21 – CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – 1.156^21

Don came down the stairs and felt an irrational relief when he saw Charlie going to make coffee. They had managed not to argue more the day before, and at least Don hoped that it would stay this way. However, because of the permanent mental and emotional tension he couldn't guarantee anything.

"Good morning!" Charlie greeted him, apparently a lot more awake than he had been the previous evening. "I take it you too want a cup of coffee?"

Don nodded, watching his brother carefully noting what lay behind his cheerful greeting. More awake - yes. Rested - yes. In a good mood, as though everything was all right - yes. However, there was also increased insecurity in the way they interacted, a fear that at any moment a new argument could emerge between them. There was the apprehension of the mafia's everlasting threat and the ghosts of panic and tension destroyed the peace picture with their brutal truth.

"Listen, I've been thinking about what you said yesterday."

Charlie tried to grin. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

Don too had to make a great effort to pull the corners of his mouth up a bit. Charlie was right. He had found that out for himself already. However, that was secondary for the time being. "You shouldn't go on working here."

"Don." Charlie's features were an open book. They had gotten rid of that matter only with a huge effort and he was determined not bring it up again.

And on top of that, he shared Don's opinion. "No, wait, listen. I mean, you shouldn't go on working here in the garage. It'd be better if you went to CalSci. You know, more people and all that." And probably no bugs, he added in his mind.

Ah yes. Charlie nodded. That sounded rational. For the time being he wouldn't be able to think straight and panic-free in the garage, not only because of the always changing dark cars in front of their house he had been trying to ignore since the night assault.

Half an hour later Don dropped his little brother off at the 'thank God' already well-filled campus and drove on to his office in his SUV. He felt a surge of gratitude welling up inside him when he saw David and Colby already sitting at their desks. Without any words they seemed to a community that was totally in sync. The two of them seemed nearly as determined as him to put the mobsters behind bars, and if he hadn't already made up his mind, his decision to tell them everything would have been made at this moment.

He hadn't needed to think long the previous evening in order to come to the conclusion that it'd be best to let his two colleagues in on the turn their case had taken. Of course, the risk that their plans could be overheard by the mafia became greater this way; but it also increased their chance of catching the criminals. And aside from that, David and Colby deserved to be in the know.

He led them into the conference room that he was absolutely certain was not bugged. Their tense and expectant features assured him that he had their attention, and so he started his report. Despite the impact his information had he was only rarely interrupted by a question now and then. The two agents waited until their boss had ended before they told him what they thought. They even waited a few seconds longer, but Don was quite sure that this was due to the fact that they were dumbstruck.

"This is bad," David said finally. "This is really bad."

"That's the conclusion we've come to as well."

"And what do you intend to do now?" Colby asked.

Don shrugged. If we only knew.

"Have you already organized protection for Charlie?" David wanted to know.

Don shook his head, but before he could reply, Colby broke in, "What? You left him alone? With the mafia going after him?" What, for Heaven's sake, was going on with Don?

David's features, in the meantime, had cleared up with comprehension. "We can't," he verbalized his fear. "The mafia's watching him. We can't be seen to be protecting him."

Don nodded heavily. "Exactly. It sounds weird, but it's safer this way."

Colby leaned back in his office chair in order to come to terms with the information. After all, he didn't know that it would get even worse.

0 – 0 – 0

"What about Sanchez?" Kalinkov wanted to know.

"He's stalling," Budanov answered. "We can't get through to him, though. Seems as if the others are also putting pressure on him so that he doesn't change his statement. And they're keeping him from us."

Kalinkov let out a discontented sigh. It was annoying to know that the FBI was on their tracks. Annoying, yes – but there were more important things. "And the mathematician? Is he still on our side? And did the FBI find out despite everything what we're planning and how we intend to proceed?"

Budanov shook his head. "As far as we know, no."

Kalinkov's unsatisfied features didn't change. Not as far as they knew – but their source of information wasn't infallible, after all. Bugs in a remodeled garage – that was more than poor.

"We should watch him," he therefore said. "24/7. To see what the enemy's doing."

"But this math-guy can't leave anyway. One, we can trace his mobile at any time and two, he wouldn't dare."

"Still," Kalinkov insisted. "We mustn't take the risk. This math-guy has to stay under our control. And we have to find out what they already know."

0 – 0 – 0

Charlie was standing in front of the blackboards in his garage calculating, when suddenly the door opened. The movement was so soft that he didn't even notice at first, but when he felt the mouth of the pistol against his head, he became instantly aware. Charlie sensed his heartbeat quicken when a deep voice whispered, "Say good-bye to the world!" A shot banged and Charlie started up.

Gasping heavily, he found himself sitting in an office illuminated by morning sunlight. His head jerked around, his eyes moved rapidly and he recognized the desk and the shelves and the chaos as belonging to Larry's office. Slowly the panic subsided again. He had only been dreaming. No shot. The bang hadn't come from a pistol, but more than likely from a slammed door.

Charlie swallowed and sat up straight. His joints cracked and he stretched. Yes, that made him feel better, even if his tensed up body probably wouldn't forget that night soon – or more to the point the hours spent on Larry's office chair.

It probably would have been more sensible to drive home for a few hours of sleep but one, Charlie wasn't sure if he would find the rest he was hoping for in the Craftsman, and two, he had had to continue working on this. After all, he had (with Larry's approval) worked here all day yesterday, but hadn't been able to finish his work and at some point in time had apparently fallen asleep. However, he was so close to the solution, he could almost taste it.

His gaze fell upon the calendar upon Larry's desk. Sunday. It had to be Sunday. Good. Larry wasn't back from his conference until this evening, and most of the students would probably also stay away from the university today. So hopefully he wouldn't be interrupted by anyone. He had a lot to do.

Charlie squinted, looking closely at his latest calculations. Right, there it was he had stopped. That meant... yes, he was really close, he knew it. And without wasting any more time, he went on calculating.

Only a few hours later he saw the solution in front of him. He quickly verified the last few steps, but there was no doubt. He had worked out the mafia's aim. For at least a minute he stood motionless in front of his calculations until he pulled himself out of his zone and stumbled out of the building.

0 – 0 – 0

Sasha Andrushov was yawning. Not for the first time he wondered who had had this idiotic idea. Observing a mathematician – what on Earth was the point of that? Until now in any event, it hadn't helped them at all.

Now their mark was leaving the university. A glance between him and his colleague Ilya Ivanov was enough; then Ivanov got up from the passenger's seat and out of the car while Andrushov followed the mathematician and his blue small car. Judging from the professor's confused and somehow far-away features when he had left the campus, he was still unaware of the fact that he was being followed.

Meanwhile Ivanov had already asked a student for Professor Charles Eppes' office and received a discouraging answer. "Professor Eppes doesn't currently teach here. Unfortunately. Didn't you hear about it? Was quite a big thing. But if it's important you can try Fleinhardt's office, second floor, uh... third door on the right."

The student hurried along, and Ivanov contentedly set off. It was no coincidence that he had been given this task. Not only had he studied computing for some semesters before having been taken off the university register, but he also looked younger than the 28 years he was and resembled a student.

He knocked at Professor Fleinhardt's door, but got no answer. Good. It was child's play to pick the lock. Finally, he stood in front of Eppes' notes and studied them closely for a long moment. Then he swore softly. They were exposed; their aim was revealed. And now they had to act as soon as possible.

With his cell-phone, he called for back-up. And he informed the boss.

0 – 0 – 0

"Hey, Charlie! Did you find something?" David lifted himself from his chair when the professor had rushed past him.

Charlie turned around. He hadn't even noticed David. He didn't slow down his quick pace, however. "You could say so," he mumbled.

"Hey, you alright?" David asked. He was frowning. Charlie didn't look well... a bit out of it. However, David thought at once, that after being kidnapped, assaulted and perhaps being permanently watched that was probably quite understandable.

"Where are the others?" Charlie inquired without answering David's question. He was still trying to understand the result, to grasp it. David silently indicated an interrogation room. Through a windowpane they saw the two agents and a woman stand up, shake hands before the woman finally rushed past them.

"Hi Charlie," Don greeted him. "Got something?"

Charlie nodded.

"Good," Colby said, one corner of his mouth lifted up, "'cause I'm really getting fed up with these witness statements."

Charlie just stared at him solemnly, but Don was already leading them into an empty conference room. "So?" he asked while Charlie opened his laptop. "Have you found out who killed Norvtcharov?"

"What?" Charlie seemed confused. "Ah right, that... Yeah... uh, seems as if it was a certain Pjotr Malenkov, a member of the sub-mafia. I have to verify it, however, that's not what I'm here for."

"But?"

And finally Charlie could let it out. "It's the Janus List."

The three agents stared at him. "What?" David finally asked.

"Their aim is the Janus List," Charlie repeated. He had difficulty expressing it clearly. "The mafia. They want the List. I still don't know how they intend getting it, but the probability is 83% that it is the aim of the two groups."

His gaze was resting upon Colby, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that Don's and David's heads were also slowly, as in a trance, turning towards their colleague. The reason was obvious. Not more than a year had passed since they had all thought that Colby was with the Chinese and a traitor, not only a traitor to his country, but also to the FBI and – last but not least – to his friends.

Back then, an ex-spy and cryptographer named Taylor Ashby had given them – via obscure channels – the Janus List. And on this Janus List they had found Colby's name. After the apparent betrayal by their friend and colleague they had all gotten more or less off course. It hadn't helped either that Colby had escaped. Not at first. After his escape however, they had finally been able to clear up the issue, and they'd found out that Colby wasn't a double, but a triple agent and was therefore on their side. That didn't mean, though, that after the clearing up of the case everything had been all right again. It had taken them a long time to build up a basis of trust again and to forget about the whole thing as well as possible.

And now it had caught up with them again.

Charlie saw Colby swallow. "But there is no Janus List anymore," he then said, frowning.

Charlie's voice was calm. It only trembled slightly from excitement. "There's a new one."

The others stared at him. "How do you know?" Colby asked, not comprehending.

"I don't know certainly," Charlie confessed, and the others exchanged meaningful, though still uncertain glances with I-knew-it-features before he continued his explanation. "But I know at least that there was one some weeks ago."

Their glances switched back into confusion-mode.

Charlie shrugged. "I was working on something else when I found out about it." He tried to smile. "You have access to quite a lot of pretty interesting high security information when you have the proper clearance."

The others were silent for another couple of seconds, trying to take in the meaning of Charlie's words.

"And how do they intend to get it?" Don finally asked, recognizing unwillingly that his voice sounded a bit hoarse. It was inconceivable – this stupid Janus List was evoking all the memories and feelings from the first episode. Colby's betrayal... Don's doubts about everything and everyone...

"That's what I said; I don't really know yet which way they're going to chose. I have to make another game theory analysis."

Colby sat up with a jerk. "Hold on!" Considering the dumbness of the situation that had been there until now his voice sounded disturbingly sharp. "What's that supposed to mean, 'which way'? Are you saying that there are several methods they could use to get the List?"

It couldn't have been more obvious that Colby was aghast. After all he himself had been on this List once, even if it had only been for the sake of his cover, but the fact that people could get those names so easily – no, he just couldn't understand that.

Charlie, however, didn't do him the favor of denying everything, but just nodded as an answer to Colby's indignant question.

"And," David hesitated for a moment, "where is this List supposed to be?"

Charlie didn't answer, but just looked at David in a way that Don knew only too well. "No," he said, trying to convince himself. His little brother wasn't telling them that right now. "No, Charlie, you can't be serious."

Charlie's gaze swiveled to Don, though it didn't change. "You're not seriously telling us that…?" However, Charlie's gaze confirmed his theory. "You know where the List is and can't tell us?"

Charlie lowered his eyes and that was enough of an answer for Don.

He stood up abruptly, turning away from the others, only to turn back two seconds later in order to appeal to Charlie's common sense. "Charlie, this is important! If you know who has the List..." He left the rest unsaid.

"I don't know who has it," Charlie eventually said. "I only know which... agency has got information about it."

Don inhaled deeply. "Okay." Inhale another time. Just don't get irritated. They were as close to their aim as they had never been and his own brother was blocking their path, but – hey! – it was nothing. "Okay." He paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Thinking was so hard at the moment. "So could at least anyone of you ascertain that this time none of us is on this damn List?"

"Of course not," David hastened to say.

Colby's answer came nearly at the same instant, though it was much more cynical. "Do you seriously believe that I'm agreeing to go through all that again?"

Don took another deep breath, this time mostly caused by relief, but as he was nearly expecting, Charlie also destroyed this. "Uh, Don – a spy wouldn't necessarily admit that he's a spy."

That was followed by another few moments of silence. Don and David stared at him, but Colby only examined the desk in front of him. "He has a point there," he consented in a barely audible voice.

Don whirled around. "What are you trying to say there, Granger?"

"Stay calm, Don. I wasn't lying to you. But there is no convincing argument for you to believe that."

The silence that was now dominating the room was oppressing. Reverberating. Don stared at Colby as if he was the first human being he had ever seen. What was that supposed to mean? Was Colby just trying to tell him in a very cryptic way that he was again a spy; that he was again lying to them?

Don studied the angular face. He noticed the dark rings under the eyes, and he remembered that Colby – just like himself – had worked extra hours these past few days in order to bring the mafia behind bars.

Or was he just pursuing his own aims?

His gaze was still pointed. Colby didn't look at him, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was lying to him. No, it didn't. And the accentuated cheekbones, the sign that he was clenching his teeth – tension or memories? And if Don knew that – would that help him?

Don sighed. "All right," he said. He still wasn't sure if he was signing his own death sentence right now or dooming their plan – as awfully little thought out it was at this point of time. But he knew what to do. "I guess we're all in the same boat. We all haven't got the necessary means to find out if one of us is a spy or not. But I, for my part, trust you."

He let the sentence hang in the air for a moment. And his colleagues understood. They were aware of how much Don's words meant in this case.

"Okay," Don continued, much more neutral and back to his old commanding tone. "Then let's go. David, Colby – I want you to try to track down further members of the two mafia groups so that we can question them and maybe find out something about their plans. Charlie – you'll try the same thing, find out how they intend to get the List and what exactly they want to do with it."

Charlie nodded briefly and left the headquarters. Don looked after him for a moment. He inhaled deeply. He still hadn't come to terms with the fact that Charlie was withholding such important information from him, but that wasn't everything. The fact that it was suddenly so normal again to give orders to his brother and to see them being followed without argument made him a little uneasy.

0 – 0 – 0

While opening Larry's office door he knew immediately that something wasn't right. And it wasn't until he was already standing inside the room that it occurred to him that it should normally have been locked Had he maybe forgotten about that earlier in his excitement? Perfectly possible.

Charlie had also covered the few steps to the desk when he realized that there was something else that wasn't right. For although it always took some time with low-energy bulbs, experience told him that the room was taking too long to light up.

All of a sudden the darkness meant danger. Was there somebody here? The mafia...?

The next instant, Charlie scolded himself for his paranoia. Probably the bulb had blown. Or he hadn't pressed the light switch properly. Or...

Charlie didn't have the opportunity to think of further theories, for at this moment he was pulled hard from behind, an arm around his throat. His bag banged onto the floor and a sharply sweet-smelling cloth was pressed over his face.

Only twenty seconds after Charlie had entered the office, he was lying on the floor unconscious.