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aleo_70Author:
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aleo_70 Rating: PG 13+
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes with cameo by David
Challenge: Clue Challenge #12, June 2010 at
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hurt_don . Prompts: Who? Don; What? TASER; Where? Police precinct.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: (more mention than spoiler) Chinese Box, Rampage, Graphic, Janus List, Trust Metric and Two Daughters.
Warnings: violence
Word count this chapter: 2920
Word count total: ~21,200
Summary: It starts as a bid for freedom from a police precinct but after being taken hostage Don learns things are not quite as they seem.
CHAPTER TWO
The man glared down at the agent for a long moment before waving his gun hand at the other man. “Get him the kit.”
“Thank-you.”
“Keep him breathing.” The man told him. “He’s your responsibility, Detective.”
Don didn’t correct him, turning back to his patient as the other man returned with the kit. He was hardly an EMT but he’d seen similar wounds treated often enough that he knew the basic steps. Cutting away the trouser leg around the wound with some scissors he drenched the wound with a tube of antiseptic, seeing in the process that it was not as bad as he’d thought. Opening the largest dressing pack the kit contained he pressed it over the wound. With Mortensen’s help he got the widest bandage he could find wrapped around the leg. After critically examining his handiwork he wound another bandage over the top to increase the pressure.
“How you holding up?” He asked quietly.
Mortensen looked up at him, pressing his cuffed hands over the top of Don’s work. A pained grimace crossed his face. “I’ll make it.”
“Who are they?” Don asked as he used a smaller dressing and some saline to clean the blood off his hands as best he could.
“Gun runners. They were brought a couple of hours ago.” The detective answered. “They were due to be transferred over to the ATF for questioning.”
Don nodded. That explained why they’d been cuffed in front, it was for transport having already been fully searched and processed. Procedures in place for the comfort and welfare of prisoners had given the men an opening that they exploited. The speed at which they’d accomplished their goal made him think they had military backgrounds. Their actions since then seemed to back that up.
“Ex-military?”
“I think at least two of them are.”
“Got any names?”
“That one is Adam Crowd.” Mortensen started, jerking his head at the one in charge. “Nasty piece of work, surfaced recently from seemingly nowhere but has priors elsewhere for shooting at police. According to his file he’s suspected of having killed a few of his competitors over the years.”
The agent glanced around to see the men working their way from hostage to hostage, patting each down for hidden weapons. “The others?”
“Don’t know much about them, even if they’ve been around LA longer. His name is Brandon Murray. He’s Ash Horn, intel says he used to be in charge until Crowd came along. Uh, I think that one is known as Malloy. The last one, I can’t remember.”
Don filed the names away. “How’d they get busted?”
“Some good work by a uniform crew. They spotted them by chance, tailed them back to the house they were using and we pounced. Crowd and his crew have been on the ATF’s wanted list for a while.” Mortensen looked up. “Heads up.”
Don turned in time to see one of the men stop behind him and show him the muzzle of his gun. “You, up. Face away from me, hands on your head.”
Obeying the instructions he stood and kept his back to the man as he moved his chained hands onto the top of his head. A hand at his collar jerked him back a pace or so before it released him. Holding still he felt the man run his hands over his back and sides and down his legs, he was being searched just like the others had been.
“Down on your face.”
The order was accompanied by a sudden kick to the back of his knee and he went down hard, almost completely losing his balance. He made it the rest of the way without any more help and watched as Mortensen was searched. Satisfied with his haul the man stepped back and, seeing Don watching him, jerked his gun in a way Don took to mean he could resume his duties. Pushing himself up, feeling that his knee was already bruised in the process, he returned to Mortensen’s side and checked the dressing on the leg. Thankfully it appeared undisturbed.
“This is not good.” Mortensen commented.
Hostage situations never were but this one was especially bad with police officers held in their own precinct. There would be precious little impartiality on those outside as they worked to resolve things. That both worked for the offenders and against them. The responding officers would be emotionally invested, increasing the chances they would make a mistake, push something too hard at the wrong moment, or worse, capitulate when they needed to be strong. The negotiation and the response needed to be outsourced, to the FBI, but Don knew the LAPD would try their best to keep it in-house as long as they could. He could understand that, he would, and had done, the same when it was agents involved and he was emotionally invested.
The agent looked around again to find the men now grouped together, talking amongst themselves whilst maintaining a watchful eye on their hostages. They weren’t bothering to keep their voices down.
“What are we supposed to do now?” The one who’s name Mortensen couldn’t remember demanded. “It wasn’t supposed to turn into this.”
“We get them to let us go.” Crowd snapped.
“And how long is that going to take? We have to find another way out.” Ash declared. “We’re on the clock.”
“I know that!” Crowd glanced at the clock mounted on the wall before starting to pace as he thought things through.
Clearly too impatient to wait as his leader pondered Ash continued, “The deal’s worth too much money to let it go. We have to push them.”
“We will. We just have to wait for them to call first.”
“I say we kill one of them now.” Ash said. “We do that, they’ll call.”
At that threat Don and all the other hostages tensed. If the men took that path it would turn into a blood-bath with heavy losses on both sides. He could see the frustration and felt it himself, used to having control over a situation he knew he had no control here and there would be nothing he could do to prevent whatever the men decided to do.
“They’ll bust in guns blazing.” Crowd argued back with a brief glance at the agent who’d made that self same point a short time earlier. “No, we wait for their call then we get things moving.”
“We don’t have time for this.” Ash complained.
“We got enough. Someone keep watch at the door.”
Crowd’s order effectively derailed the argument, one man went to the door and leaned his ear against it to hear what was happening on the stairs. The others spread out to cover their hostages.
“They don’t look too happy about it either.” Don finally replied to Mortensen’s comment.
“Probably thought they could just bust right out.”
“With a few less people in here they may have had a chance at that.” Don countered. He couldn’t but help remember the time the bullpen had been shot up, one man with a hostage had practically enjoyed free run of the floor until they were able to finally corner and shoot him. That had taken far more time than today’s attempted escape before it stalled.
“Where are you going?” Crowd suddenly demanded.
Don turned back to focus first on Crowd and then where the man was looking. Ash was at the rear of the room and had opened the door that the men had just come through.
“Looking for a way out.”
“There’s nothing back there.”
“Oh?” Ash said in surprise. An expression of suspicion crossed his face as he turned to fully face the other man. “How would you know that?”
“If there was an exit there don’t you think they would have taken us out that way?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Ash went through the door.
“Is there an exit?” Don asked Mortensen as the thought crossed his mind to wonder why it was that Crowd seemed so sure that there wasn’t.
“Not one they’d find.” The detective answered, keeping his voice low.
“So there is one?”
“Not any more, some ordinance breach or whatever. It was closed and the room it led from is now full of lockers. You can’t even see the door.”
“But it’s there?”
Mortensen nodded before gazing thoughtfully at the open door leading from the dayroom. “You think we could have a go for it?”
Glancing around at the four remaining men and seeing their alertness he shook his head slightly. “Probably not. Just an option to keep in mind.”
Ash returned a minute or so later and shook his head at Crowd’s questioning look. The otherwise silence of the room was broken when a desk phone rang.
Turning towards the sound Don determined it was coming from a desk near the middle of the room. “Samuels?”
“Probably.” Mortensen answered. “He’s the shift supervisor. The captain’s out so he’s in charge until he comes back.”
Crowd didn’t waste any time picking up the phone. “This is your fault. … You know what I want, a way out. … Well, sooner would be better than later. Your man’s bleeding up here.”
There was a longish pause as Crowd listened to the negotiator before abruptly standing. “There’s a time limit on this. I, we, want out now with guaranteed safe passage. Two cars ready and waiting in ten minutes. … No, ten minutes.”
“They said they were in a hurry.” Don commented at the unreasonable demand.
“They know the longer this takes the harder it is going to be for them to get out of here.”
Which was part of the reason the manual required negotiators to slow everything down, it was supposed to allow both sides to think on their moves but it also allowed the police time to shut down all avenues of escape.
“I don’t have time for this. Call me back on one of these cell phones.” Crowd ordered before slamming down the landline handset.
Watching in increasing concern as the man started pacing beside the desk where they’d piled up the officer’s equipment Don could only wait for Samuels to call back in. The standoff had only just begun but the men’s urgent need to be elsewhere quickly for their own purposes was only going to be bad for the hostages. Crowd had said he was going to push it and it seemed now things were going to come to a head fairly quickly, despite the best efforts of those outside.
A cell started to ring, an old fashioned bell ring tone. Sorting through the pile of phones on the desk Crowd selected one and answered the call.
“Are the cars going to be there in ten?” Crowd asked as he again sorted through the items on the desk, selecting one of the weapons and looking it over. Clearly the answer on the other end of the line was not what he wanted to hear. Moving away from the desk as the negotiator continued speaking he stopped a couple of yards away from Don and the injured detective. His gaze focused on the two men as he spoke harshly into the phone. “You’re not listening to me. How about you listen to this?”
The man raised the item he’d selected, pointing it at Mortensen.
“No.” Don moved, placing himself between the weapon and the man’s target. The detective was already hurt, he didn’t need anything more done to him.
“Someone’s taking a ride.” Crowd warned.
“Me.”
“Suit yourself.” The man adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger.
Don heard the pop and then nothing for a second or so as he felt the shock pass across the muscles of his chest, thrumming in time to the rapid pulses from the TASER. The pain was intense as his muscles cramped up and his arms curled up to his chest, completely beyond his control. After the initial second or so his other senses recovered and he could hear the rapid clicking but that was all he was capable of doing until the cycle ended. He knew it would only be five seconds but it was a damned long five seconds.
Finally it stopped and, contrary to popular mythology and television, he wasn’t stunned unconscious by the shock even if it took him another second or so to realise it was over. Don found himself slumped partly over Mortensen, breathing heavily as he quickly recovered. He got himself moving, shifting his weight off the wounded man and leant back against the cupboard beside the detective as he looked back up at Crowd.
“Got that?” The man taunted into the phone, the sensitive microphone would have picked up the noise of the discharging TASER. He briefly pressed the cell against his chest muffling his next words. “What’s your name?”
“Eppes.”
Bringing the phone back to his ear Crowd continued. “Your man Eppes here has got some balls, but that ain’t gonna help him much if you don’t do as I say.” The man frowned at the response, repeating Don’s name before, “Huh?”
Don had seen the man’s expression change and found himself pierced with a hard stare as the phone was again covered. He could figure what had just happened, the negotiator had just reacted in confusion at the unfamiliar name. Before he could say anything to explain who he was the pain was back as the trigger was again pulled on the TASER. The probes still embedded carried the latest charge to his muscles.
“Who are you?” Crowd demanded when the cycle stopped.
It took Don a moment, the recovery was slower this time, during which he was sure the man would fire the TASER again but he got the words out. They would soon discover it for themselves anyway if they searched him more thoroughly and checked his ID. He pulled the lower edge of his jacket aside exposing the badge on his belt, “Federal Agent.”
“ATF? DEA? What?” Crowd demanded, not bothering to take a close look at the badge.
One of the other offenders that had moved closer to stand near the table at the sudden increase in tension now sorted through the weapons there, coming up with Don’s Glock. He provided the clarification before Don could, recognising the weapon as standard issue. “FBI.”
“Looks like we got us an FBI agent up here.” Crowd announced into the phone at Don’s confirming nod, his tone almost gleeful. “I’m not talking to you any more. Call the feds and tell them what we want. I want to hear from them in five minutes or he gets more of this.”
This time the phone was held close to the TASER as the man set it off again, the clicking would be transmitted loud and clear.
It took longer this time for Don to recover, three hits in such a short time left his muscles twitching. The pain from the cramping was gone instantly the cycle ended but he felt a wave of fatigue as if he’d just completed a heavy upper body workout and his muscles ached.
“Happy you took that ride now, Feebee?” The man asked, the TASER held casually down by his side. It didn’t need to be pointed towards his target to work, the trailing wires to the probes would carry the charge no matter where the TASER was pointed from several yards away.
Don didn’t bother answering that. He shifted and felt the pull from one of the barbed probes that had gone through his shirt and penetrated his skin over his stomach. The other probe had gone into his jacket at his shoulder and had also hooked into his skin but wasn’t as painful, small as that pain was compared to the charge the device delivered. There was an easy way to fix that and he reached with his restrained hands for the probe at his stomach, intending to pull it out.
“Uh, uh. Leave it.” Crowd ordered. “I like having you on a hook.”
Don pulled his hands away and glared up at the man. Tethered to the TASER the man could jolt him whenever he pleased. Many more cycles could be delivered before the battery was drained. It was not hard to figure that a TASER was an excellent device for torture if misused as the man had already demonstrated. Unfortunately for Don the stringent policies and procedures in place governing how officers used the devices did not apply to the criminal.
“Name and section so I can tell them who we got when they call.”
There was no point in refusing the information. “Special Agent Don Eppes, Violent Crimes Squad supervisor.”
“A boss. Nice.” The man was pleased, not only a federal agent, but a senior one. “You just scored yourself a trip when we leave.”
No surprises there, Don knew he was now their number one hostage. He made no comment and the man simply turned away, taking a seat at a desk close enough that the wires hung loosely. The TASER itself was put down carefully, kept close to hand as he waited for his call from the FBI.
“You should have let me take it.” Mortensen said quietly.
Checking the detective’s leg Don looked up. “No way.”
“Now they’re targeting you.” He eyed the wires trailing away from the agent’s torso.
“So? It’s just a TASER. Hurts like hell but nothing permanent.” Don didn’t need to indicate the man’s bullet wound to illustrate that point.
Next chapter - here
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no subject
Date: 2 Nov 2010 04:28 (UTC)*grins some more*
no subject
Date: 2 Nov 2010 15:24 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2 Nov 2010 21:34 (UTC)no subject
Date: 3 Nov 2010 02:51 (UTC)no subject
Date: 3 Nov 2010 10:02 (UTC)Don just has to be in the thick of it - key hostage, buried alive, whatever.
no subject
Date: 3 Jan 2011 14:30 (UTC)I do wonder what the other detectives present are thinking. Or Samuels.
Спасибо за инфу
Date: 30 Jun 2011 13:28 (UTC)Благодарю за блог
Date: 30 Jun 2011 22:09 (UTC)Классный блог!
Date: 26 Jan 2012 17:33 (UTC)Благодарю за блог
Date: 15 Feb 2012 09:46 (UTC)