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aleo_70 Rating: PG 13+
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don, with cameos by Charlie, Alan, team
Challenge: Clue Challenge #8, February 2010. Prompts: Who? - Don. What? - Ice. Where? -Outdoors .
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
Spoilers: Nil
Warnings: drug references
Word count this chapter: 2485
Word count total: ~8,300
Summary: Scouting a potential offence location alone Special Agent Don Eppes finds himself in an unexpected situation.
CHAPTER TWO
On his knees with a diamond in his hands and a gun at his head Don didn’t exactly have the opportunity to make that escape. All he could do for now was respond to the unspoken demand of a waiting empty hand and hand the diamond up. It was without much surprise that he noted the way that One glanced around to see if his men were watching before slipping the stone into his pocket. Somehow Don knew the stone wouldn’t find its way into the rest of the haul, the others unaware that the agent had even stumbled on their true operation. Eyes narrowed at the man’s covert actions he received a close up view of the barrel of One’s weapon in response. The message was received loud and clear, he was to keep his observations to himself.
“Get back to work.”
Don managed a grip on the bag and rose to his feet, careful not to spill any of the ice from the damaged bag in the process. He turned and in a few short steps was at the back of the truck, handing the bag up. It was the last one. His situation just became that much more desperate, his knowledge of One’s theft perhaps his only weapon, assuming they even believed him or that One would let him live long enough to get the words out. Three and Four crowded in, hands back on their weapons as they waited for One to give the next order.
One wasn’t in any obvious rush, pulling out his cell and hitting a speed dial instead. “Get back here.” He snapped before putting the cell away. He finally turned his attention to the agent. “And you, get in.”
Don couldn’t help the glance up into the back of the freezer truck before looking back at One. The cold air spilling against his back was already making him shiver. Surely he couldn’t expect…
As it had earlier One’s matter of fact voice left no doubt that he was prepared to do whatever he felt he needed to. “You can unload at the other end before we kill you or we shoot you now. Up to you.”
“This is not going to end well.” Don warned.
“Not for you it isn’t.” One agreed.
“The only good fed is a dead fed.” Four quipped.
Ignoring the amused comment the agent continued. “Take the truck and drive away, it’s not like I can stop you. Killing me or taking me with you will bring down more heat than you need right now.”
A less than pleasant grin crossed the man’s face as he stepped a pace closer. His voice dropped and the tone was downright dangerous. “Right now I want you to get into the truck.”
Don sighed and nodded. Even with the death sentence hanging over his head, getting into the truck extended his life that little longer. A fact not lost on One, hence the explanation of when the agent was to die if he cooperated. For them it saved a mess at the depot that could more quickly lead the authorities to understand that something had gone down overnight that warranted investigation. This way, no mess and they could kill him once they’d rung some more work from him and then dispose of his body in a place of their choosing. It all seemed to be in their favour for him to get into the truck but he would take the slight hope One was offering and use whatever chance he got. There was still one trick up his sleeve. He turned and with a degree of difficulty clambered up, backing away into the freezing depths as One gestured with his gun. Three climbed up far enough to grab at the hanging strap before jumping back down and pulling the roller door down with him.
It was pitch black in the back of the truck but that was the least of the agent’s worries as he heard the latches being engaged. Dressed for the warm Californian night he shivered violently as the cold air being enthusiastically pumped in by the compressor blew across his unprotected skin. Already chilled from the cold against his hands his t-shirt and light jeans were going to be little help keeping him warm in what was soon to be sub-freezing temperatures. There was no time to waste. It took a couple of attempts but he finally got his still numb hand into his pocket where he’d earlier put his phone so he could feel it vibrate and dragged it back out. That decision had prevented One finding and confiscating his phone when he’d been taken, the empty holder on the belt sending the man to his erroneous conclusion.
Through the insulated walls of the truck he heard the larger vehicle’s engine start and then another that he assumed had to be the car he’d spotted. The truck’s cab was too small to carry the four men so that made sense. Getting himself back on task he was about to open his phone when the truck suddenly lurched forward, the movement causing him to slip and fall, the phone flying from his grasp. As the truck picked up pace he remained on his hands and knees, desperately trying to recover the cell from amongst the bags of ice. Fortune was favouring him as he suddenly heard a buzzing noise. His phone was ringing and had landed on a patch of floor amplifying the sound of the vibrator. Homing in he soon had it back in his hands and open, the wash of light welcoming in the dark. Getting it up to his ear he heard the voice of Alexis in Control.
“Welfare check, Agent Eppes.” She explained through some static. Standard protocol dictated that she check on him after a certain length of time if he didn’t call in.
“I need assistance.” Don started. Her timely call had saved him the trouble of trying to dial. “I’m being held by four armed men in a refrigerated truck.”
Despite being alarmed, Alexis was all business. “You still at your last?”
“Not for long, I’m being driven away now. Track my cell.” The insulated walls of the truck seemed to be blocking his cell and he hoped there was enough signal to track the GPS, it wasn’t as if he could give directions to his location as it changed.
“Received. Signal strength is low but working on it. Alerting LAPD dispatch for units in the vicinity of your last. Description of the vehicle?”
As he worked his way though the quick description he found it getting harder to speak, already the cold was making his teeth start to chatter.
“Agent, have you been injured?” Alexis asked in concern now that the urgent stuff was being dealt with.
“N-no. Freezing.” He’d already explained the type of truck so he knew she’d understand. “Hurry.”
“Stay on the line.”
Don appreciated the offer but, “No. I n-need to save the b-battery.” The GPS was his lifeline, useless if he drained the battery powering it.
“Hang in there.” Alexis responded. “We’re coming.”
He ended the call and held the phone up while it was still illuminated, using the pale light to find himself a place against the wall of the truck where he could sit and wait. As the light faded he got the phone back into his pocket to both protect it from the cold and to conceal it once again and then sat, wedging himself against the wall and the roller door. After pushing away the closest bags of ice he pulled himself up into a ball, making himself as small as possible in order to reduce his heat loss as he leaned against the un-insulated roller door, the warmest surface in the truck. Tucking in his head he tried to make the most of the warmth in his expelled breath to warm his already frozen hands that he’d balled up against his chest. Hoping that either he would be quickly rescued by the promised help or that the ride would end soon he set himself to wait. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
Constant checks of the faintly luminous dial of his watch only served to illustrate how much time was crawling by as he shivered. It seemed their intel was right on this point as well, the truck was leaving LA. After a while he found himself trying to compare how he felt now with previous times he’d thought he was cold. Nothing even came close, his shivering becoming even more violent and he was unable to stop it. Knowing that for a bad sign he tried to tighten himself up into an even smaller ball even as the cold against his stinging skin started to feel warm. He knew it for a dangerous illusion and as some more time slipped by he felt his body start to relax, his twitching muscles not able to hold their tensed pose. Unable to prevent it he slid to one side until he lay curled on the floor. Losing track of time his thoughts wandered and he drifted.
The truck made a sudden turn flinging him uncomfortably against the wall. Managing an irritated thought was as much of a response as he could muster as the truck made another violent manoeuvre. Again he responded with irritation as the abrupt changes in direction continued. Finally his cold addled thoughts shifted into gear and he was able to puzzle it out. The close wailing sound of a police siren helped. The truck was being pursued, he’d been found. There was another dangerously sharp turn that had the floor tilting alarmingly upwards and flung him across to the opposite side as the truck almost rolled. There was the sound of a collision and the siren abruptly stopped. Somehow the truck returned to all of its wheels before coming to a sharp halt.
With a lot of effort Don managed to peel himself off the floor and drag himself back up until he was leaning against the wall. He leaned his ear against the roller door in an attempt to hear what was happening outside the truck, wondering absently why his ears were burning so much.
There was the sound of doors slamming that he identified as from the truck before he heard a voice.
“Check on him.” The man ordered. “I’ll check the cop.”
He heard a screech of tortured metal and could only guess at what was going on. Possibly the dark car that had contained at least one of his captors had collided with the pursuing black & white or sheriff’s car depending how far out they’d gone. That there’d been no gunfire suggested that the officer had been injured in the collision and was unable to attempt an arrest. It could also suggest that the officer was dead. There was another sound of metal on metal and this time a second voice helped to explain what was happening.
“Come on, get out. We gotta go before they catch up.”
Don figured that they were pulling their man from his wrecked car, the sound of metal screeching was the sound of them pulling a door open. There was a loud grunt and then a question.
“What about the cop?” It was One.
“Out cold.” The voice he finally recognised as Three stated. “Want me to finish him?”
“No.” One countermanded. “They’ll be too busy looking after him to come after us.”
Despite the fact that rescue was no closer Don sighed in relief. The officer wasn’t dead and by the sounds of it they weren’t going to kill the helpless man either.
“If we’re not here.” One then added. In the background Don could make out the sounds of more sirens slowly getting louder as they closed in. “Help me up.”
From that he deduced it had been One in the car and that he’d not escaped the collision uninjured. It was another small piece of good news. The sudden loud bang against the roller door moments later he wasn’t expecting. Startled his clumsy, half-frozen muscles pushed him away to sprawl on the floor.
“You still alive in there, Feeb?”
“Give it up.” He called out. Or at least that’s what he tried to say, even to his own ears it sounded unintelligible and the volume was non-existent. Moving with all the skill and coordination of a drunk Don got himself back up. Flinging out a leaden arm he made contact with the roller.
“I guess you are. Stay warm.”
At that Don managed a harder hit at the roller in frustration, the surge of anger giving him a needed boost. A short snatch of laughter was the response. The truck rocked slightly as the men squeezed themselves up into the cab designed for three in a pinch and seconds later they started to move.
The anger evaporated all too quickly as he lay back feeling now a surge of defeat. He was in bad shape, trapped and the rescue that had seemed possible a short time before was gone. His thoughts were slowing down again but his wits hadn’t totally left him as he remembered the sirens he’d heard in the background closing in. They’d found him once, they would find him again, it was just a matter of time. Without the trailing car the men now had no way of stopping a second pursuit. The situation that he’d moments ago thought was deteriorating was actually improving. Now he just had to wait it out. That thought got him moving.
While his mind was still turning over he recognised he was in the throes of hypothermia and lying stretched out flat on the floor was the very worst thing he could do even if he no longer actually felt the cold. Absently he noted that it wasn’t so much that he didn’t feel the cold any more, it was more that he actually felt like he was radiating cold out into the truck, not the other way round. It was hard, his body didn’t want to cooperate and the movements of the truck, even if not currently erratic, didn’t help but he finally managed to return to his spot against the wall and the roller. Pulling his legs up to his chest he tucked his head back down. Logically the air he was breathing out was still warmer than that he was breathing in, if he could recycle that warmth a little it could only help him hold out a little longer.
One last thought before he drifted again, at least the men hadn’t stopped to question how they’d come to be located and pursued.
Next chapter - here
