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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: 3188
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 FOUR
Don blinked.
Whatever Crowd could have said that declaration was the very last thing Don expected. The man’s actions until now were not the actions of a cop, deep cover or not. He just couldn’t believe it, even if the man knew his way around the back of the precinct and knew about a long closed off and hidden exit. That would make perfect sense if what Crowd claimed was true but it was the only part of the whole mess that did. It wasn’t enough to convince him Crowd was speaking the truth.
“You just shot a cop.” Don started when he found voice. “And beat another senseless.”
Crowd glanced at the unconscious man lying nearby. “He’ll be fine and I haven’t shot anyone. Now move.”
Don resisted the man’s attempt to keep him moving. “No, you had Detective Mortensen shot. That’s worse.”
Losing patience Crowd shoved the agent hard against the concrete wall, forearm laid across his upper chest as he leaned in. “Look, I did what I had to do to keep my cover.”
Looking down at the gun that was also pressed against his chest Don could only come to one conclusion if he gave the claim any credence. “What cover? You were running the show. Looks to me like you’ve gone native.”
The gun was pulled away. “I haven’t gone native.”
“Then end this.” Don demanded as the pressure of the man’s arm on his chest maintained its intensity. The gun may have been pulled away but it was still pointed at him. Crowd stared back at him and for a moment Don thought he saw indecision but it was quickly gone.
“No. I appreciate you’re not one of us, not LAPD or any part of this but I need to salvage this op and you’re going to help me make this look good.”
“Native or not I don’t seem to be getting any choice in the matter.” He flicked his eyes down to the weapon inches from his chest.
Crowd followed his gaze before looking the agent in the eyes, his expression hardening. The brief hint of indecision the agent had seen moments before was gone, his path was clear. “No, you’re not.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned this is still what it was a moment ago, a prisoner escaping lawful custody holding a federal agent hostage.” He had no proof the man was undercover, no proof that this was anything other than exactly what it seemed.
Crowd leaned back in, the gun once again pressing sharply against the agent’s chest. “Look, I’ve been working too long and hard on this and I’m not going to let it go now. The buy is set. I’m making that meet.”
“If you have a meet set, this doesn’t need to go any further. Assuming you are an undercover, call your handler and SWAT can take them down when they turn up.”
“No time.” Stepping back he grabbed at the agent’s shirt and pulled him away from the wall before shoving him towards the unmarked car parked nearby. “Going to be late as it is.”
Stopping at the back of the car Don turned ready to argue his point again but stopped when he heard the trunk being unlocked. His thought derailed as he realised what Crowd intended. “No way.”
For a moment Crowd didn’t answer as he quickly reached in and pulled out the sledge hammer and bolt cutters lying in the otherwise empty trunk. “I have one shot of making this look good, Feebee. Get in.”
Don stood his ground, this was more than simply being difficult. He really didn’t want to get into the trunk, he’d found too many bodies in trunks to feel any ease at obeying that command.
“I’ll use this if I have to.” At the agent’s failure to move he touched the other weapon shoved into the front of his belt.
During the firefight and subsequent struggle the trailing wires from the TASER probes embedded in his flesh had broken but the device in Crowd’s belt was not rendered useless as a result. It could still be used in drive-stun mode delivering its charge through direct contact. The effect was perhaps not as debilitating as probes but locally just as painful. As the other man’s hand moved towards the device Don reacted.
Pushing forwards he shoved his shoulder into Crowd’s chest, driving the man back but unfortunately not knocking him to the ground as he’d intended. With his hands restrained it took a heartbeat too long to regain his balance and turn for another attempt. Crowd’s gun hand was already swinging and his weapon struck the agent on the side of the head much as he had the young officer earlier. Unlike then however the blow was not as hard, designed more to stun than render unconscious. By the time he regained full awareness Don found himself lying in the trunk.
Crowd reached over the recovering agent for the emergency trunk release cable and gave it a solid yank. He set himself and yanked again, this time the cable came free and was tossed aside. When the trunk was closed the agent would be trapped.
“I can see you don’t like this idea.” Crowd commented as he stood over the cramped agent. “I was going to make you drive but I’m betting that would be a mistake.”
Finding his voice Don agreed. “You guessed right.”
If the man really was an undercover then he wouldn’t actually kill his hostage if he refused to obey an order, the threat to use the TASER again a case in point. But given that Don couldn’t be sure of the man’s true identity if he’d been put in the position of driving his plan would have been to get them outside, into the open where other officers would have clear vision of them and stop the car. Throwing the keys out would have quickly disabled it and things would have then followed their natural course from there. Undercover or not, what Crowd had just done, was still doing, required him being taken into custody.
“I thought so.” Crowd moved to close the trunk.
“Wait!” Don said sharply. “You say you’re undercover, what about that mess upstairs? There are officers needing assistance. You could help them. That’s more important than any op.” The fact that Crowd had caused everything by his own actions Don didn’t point out.
Crowd’s head briefly turned back towards the door and the set of stairs they’d used to escape to the garage. With the distance and concrete between them they could no longer hear gunfire but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any. He regarded the agent again and the slight hesitation Don had seen earlier was back but was just as quickly quashed. “They’ll be okay.”
“You can’t know that. Officers need assistance.” Don repeated, hoping the catch phrase would trigger a reaction but this time there was none.
“Get down.”
Don had risen up slightly whilst making his final plea, high enough that he would be struck by the trunk lid as it came down. Crowd’s hand was already on the metal, pulling downwards forcing him to fall back to avoid any further injury. The abrupt movement set his head to pounding, three blows in quick succession more than enough to cause a headache, but he ignored the pain.
In the first few moments he could see nothing, the darkness absolute after the comparative brightness of the garage. He used those few seconds before he could see anything useful to pluck out the now useless TASER probes and toss them aside. By the time the car started moving he could see pinpoints of light around various fittings. A minute or so later as they accelerated up to road speed having driven out of the garage without resistance Don could finally see enough to orient himself and get down to the business of escape. Rolling onto his back he couldn’t help the push upwards against the lid over him. Unsurprisingly nothing happened. With the removal of the emergency release cable there was not going to be any easy way to get the trunk open. In the limited space he twisted and felt around on the carpeting for a tab that would let him left sections of the flooring. He was hunting for the tool kit normally stored in a compartment under the floor. Mostly designed for changing flats it was going to be poorly stocked but it might provide him with a way of getting the trunk open or at the very least provide him with a weapon.
He found the tab and lifted only to find nothing underneath. The tool kit was gone. He slammed his fists onto the floor in frustration. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, people driving cars that weren’t their own rarely bothered to check that they were fully equipped with the basics. He was sure the detectives would ensure they had a sledge hammer and bolt cutters, otherwise known as master keys, but unimportant stuff like tool kits were easily overlooked. The LAPD’s fleet management section, just as the FBI’s, included roadside assistance for mechanical issues. As a general rule there would not be any real need for any tool kits, even if it would be against operational requirements not to have one.
Bracing himself against a sharp turn he resumed his search. Knowing he was trapped and giving up on finding an escape were two vastly different things. There had to be a way, he just had to find it. There was no way of knowing how long this ride would take or what he might find at the end of it. Crowd had said he wanted the agent to help him ‘make it look good’. While he didn’t know what that meant he could only figure it wasn’t going to be good for him.
He’d gone over the trunk twice and found nothing to aid his escape when the car came to a halt. This was longer than the previous stops at what Don had assumed were intersections and he tensed, his search had not found him anything to use as a weapon either. The vehicle shifted and a car door slammed a second or so later, Crowd had gotten out. Don shifted his position so he could face whatever was to come next but the trunk wasn’t opened. There were faint voices then a rattling sound he was able to identify as a roller door. A few moments later Crowd had returned to the car and they moved forwards followed by more rattling as the roller presumably was lowered behind them. Having only sound to work with Don could only assume that they had just driven into a warehouse or large storage shed located somewhere not all that far from the precinct judging by the short drive. Unfortunately industrial or semi-industrial areas were a dime a dozen in Los Angeles and he couldn’t hazard a guess where he might actually be. The vehicle again came to a stop and this time he could hear the voices clearly.
Without knowing where he was or what new situation he'd landed in he decided to remain still and quiet, bringing attention to himself prematurely could be even more dangerous than his current predicament.
“You got away.” A man stated.
At best only an hour had passed since the hostage situation had developed at the precinct however it was easy for Don to believe that news of the incident was out, along with news of who was involved. He was well aware of the efficiency of the local media with well cultivated inside contacts.
“Yeah.” Crowd responded.
“Kind of convenient.”
“What? There was nothing convenient with what went down today.”
The voice continued, clearly suspicious. “You escaped, just like that. The others didn’t.”
“What’s your problem? I made it out, that’s all that matters.”
“You did, they didn’t. I don’t know you.”
“C’mon, you know me.” Crowd’s voice dropped its belligerence as he tried to dig himself out of the developing confrontation. “We’ve met.”
“Once.”
“So? In this business you don’t make buddies, you make deals.”
“You only make deals with people you can trust.” The questioner corrected.
“What’s not to trust? I got the weapons, you got the money. Easy.”
“Not easy.” The man countered. “How did you get away? The news said nothing about anyone getting away. We were about to leave when you pulled up. And that looks very much like a police car.”
“Didn’t exactly have access to my truck now did I?” Crowd answered. “Of course it’s a cop car, I boosted it to get here in time. Now, can we get to business?”
“Just like that. Boost a car and drive away.” The man was still not happy with Crowd’s explanation, ignoring the offer of getting down to the reason they were all there.
“It's a cop car, they don't stop cop cars." Crowd explained. "Besides, had me a hostage.”
Listening in the trunk Don tensed again as it appeared he was about to be brought into things.
“What hostage?”
“A feebee.” Crowd supplied. Don heard footsteps approach the rear of the car. “Still got him.”
“What? And you brought him here?”
“Yep. Figured he still had a use.”
Don was momentarily blinded as the trunk flew open. Before he could clear his vision he was grabbed by the arms he’d raised to protect himself and hauled out. Again Crowd manhandled him, shoving him away from the car towards a tight group of seven men standing a few yards away. It was as if he was being presented for inspection. Pulled to a stop there was a moment of silence as the men looked at him and he them.
The seven men ranged in type. He could only guess at who’d been questioning Crowd but the man standing at the front of the group in an expensive suit was a fair bet. Behind him five of the six were dressed more like workers, comfortable jeans and shirts. The last man was somewhere in between, expensive dress jeans and button down shirt. He was holding an aluminium briefcase. Given the lack of time to fully assess the situation he had to go with what it seemed on first blush, suit was the buyer, the dress jeans goon was the bag man and the rest muscle. The guns the last five were openly carrying aided that conclusion.
Glancing beyond the men he could see a flat bed truck and a small shipping container resting on the floor. An overhead crane was in position but not hooked up to the container. He didn't have time for anything else as the bag man stepped forward slightly and peered downwards at Don’s belt. Following the other man's line of sight the agent saw that his jacket was pulled open far enough by Crowd’s grip on his arm to expose his badge.
The bag man confirmed Don’s ID as he pulled out his own gun. “FBI, not ATF.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Suit said, distinctly unhappy at the development. “What were you thinking? He can identify us.”
“No he won’t.” Crowd promised. “Thought you might doubt me and I figured I was going to need to prove my credentials. This fix that?”
Don didn’t need any explanation of where this was headed even if it was being spelt out. Four million dollars was in play according to Ash which meant this deal was far beyond any street deal for a job lot of .38 specials. This was a serious deal with serious stakes and the last thing needed by either side was a federal agent in the mix, even a captive one. Crowd now had no other real option if he was to prove himself. Don’s situation was impossibly desperate. The crushing grip on his upper arm and the gun pressed hard against his ribs, not to mention the group of armed men, severely limited his chances of survival.
“You do it.” Suit ordered.
“That was the plan.” Crowd agreed.
“Not smart,” Don started to argue, breaking his silence. All thoughts of Crowd being an undercover had evaporated. The amount of danger the man had just put him in when there had been other options removed the doubt. It had all been a ploy to make his escape easier. “Killing me will-“
“Shut up!”
The solid jab to his ribs with the gun muzzle punctuating the instruction had him shutting up. Looking at the expressions on the faces of the men watching he saw a complete lack of concern for any consequences of what was to come. They had their preferred solution to this problem and Crowd seemed more than prepared to apply it. Don’s options, severely lacking as they had been, were now reduced to zero.
“Hurry up and we can get down to business.” Suit snapped. He brushed imaginary dirt off his immaculate clothing. A hand waved. “Over there somewhere, I don’t want any blood on me.”
“Sure. No problem.” Crowd responded.
Don was dragged bodily away, the grip on his arm tightening even further if that was possible. He glanced back to see the bag man following a few yards back, probably in case Crowd chickened out or Don made a break for it. He figured the first was unlikely and gave the second a good try but with Crowd’s firm grip he wasn’t able to pull free. Even if he had no real chance of getting away, being shot trying to make good his escape was better than the alternative waiting for him. For his efforts he received a yank and a shake that almost had him stumbling to the floor.
A few more yards on and it didn’t matter, shoved and tripped he hit the dirty concrete hard, barely able to prevent his face smashing into the floor. It was all over, but he got himself moving, not wanting to face his death lying on the floor. He made it up to his knee with the intention of standing and turning to face Crowd to see it coming but a heavy hand on his shoulder kept him down. He started to try to shake it off, the threat to kill him if he disobeyed an order really somewhat redundant now but a painfully hard squeeze had him stopping automatically. The hand left his shoulder and he heard Crowd step back. Free to move he found he couldn't as the sheer reality of what was about to happen came crashing down and froze him in place. Heightened senses heard small metallic sounds he was far too familiar with and there was no time left for anything.
A shot rang out, followed by the sound of a body falling.
A moment later there was a metallic clatter as the murder weapon was dropped to lie next to the body. That gun could never be used again. The executioner stood a second or so longer, staring down at his handiwork before turning and walking away, followed by the other man.
