FIC: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 24/?
Title: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 24
Author: Valerie Vancollie (valeriev84 [at] hotmail.com)
Characters: Don, Charlie, Alan, David, Colby, Nikki, Billy Cooper
Rating: 15
Summary: There was a certain irony to the situation, that the brother who was a federal agent had been abducted to be used as leverage against the brother who was an applied mathematics professor at a highly respected college. Don Whump, Charlie Angst!
Betas: aleo_70 & fredbassett
Spoilers: Uncertainty Principle, Vector, Man Hunt, Protest, Dark Matter, Spree, Two Daughters, Brutus, Finders Keepers, One Hour, The Janus List, Breaking Point, Black Swan, When Worlds Collide, The Decoy Effect, Jack of All Trades, Arrow of Time, The Fifth Man, Greatest Hits, Angels and Devils
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Numb3rs characters, items or situations. I only lay claim to the original aspects of the fic.
Part VI: Billy: Hospital
Chapter 24:
Thursday, 18:01
Basement, 372 Kinnard Avenue
It seemed like an eternity to Billy before his cell rang and he answered it to hear the voice of the 911 operator he'd spoken to earlier. An eternity during which he could merely sit beside his former partner and keep an eye on the boy Don said had been coerced into the whole thing by a threat to his sister. He hardly dared touch Don for fear of hurting him. The younger man was covered in blood from head to foot, although he suspected, and hoped, the blood on his suit pants was from his torso and not from additional, and as of yet undiscovered, wounds.
Despite the first aid courses he'd been forced to take over the years with Fugitive Recovery, Billy knew he was hopelessly out of his league. He'd seen countless corpses which looked better than Don and he was worried about doing more harm than good if he tried anything. The majority of the wounds seemed to be closed and covered in dried blood. The ones that had been reopened in whatever had happened just before he'd entered the basement, were already clotting or merely bleeding sluggishly and he was afraid of making things worse by touching them. Besides, he didn't think it was worth the pain it would cause his friend and he was afraid of sending him into shock. He'd heard enough of the conversation between Don and Frazer when he'd entered to know exactly what his partner had intended.
The fact that he'd nearly goaded Frazer into killing him seconds before help had arrived was going to hit Don at some point and Billy didn't want to aggravate that mental bombshell with yet more pain. Not to mention that he didn't have a clue as to the extent of Don's internal injuries and was afraid of making things worse inadvertently. So, instead, he'd remained protectively at his partner's side, letting the other man clasp his hand. If that helped Don fight off the pain and remain more or less conscious until the paramedics arrived, then he was happy to oblige even if remaining still clashed with the need that coiled in his gut to get up and pace; to do something to someone- preferably something painful and preferably to Keane. He wished desperately that Frazer wasn't dead, that the man was still alive so he could kill him again, slowly and painfully. He wanted to give the fugitive a dose of his own medicine and see what he thought of being cut a thousand times with a knife, to feel the blade dragged across his skin.
That, however, wasn't possible and Billy tried to push the thoughts aside. He'd had no choice and didn't regret his actions for an instant. His split-second assessment of the situation had called for immediate and lethal force, forgoing even the usual warning that was normally required before firing on a suspect or fugitive. The immediate and clear threat to another agent's life had overridden that and he'd fired a double tap at center mass, killing Frazer almost instantly. It had been made necessary by the fact that the other man's finger had already been on the trigger. Despite all of that, Frazer's quick death grated and he wanted to do something, to make someone pay for what had been done to Don.
It was tempting to walk over to Keane's prone form and exact some manner of revenge on the man who was apparently responsible for Frazer's escape and presence here, but he knew he couldn't. The last thing Billy wanted was for Keane to get off on some technicality. Not on his watch and not after what Keane had done. Besides, it seemed like Don had already gotten the man good. He felt a swell of pride for the younger man and what he'd managed to achieve despite the odds stacked against him. Eppes had given them hell and had nearly managed to overcome two armed opponents despite his condition.
"Special Agent Cooper?" the calm voice inquired when he answered the call.
"Yes," Billy said. "That the ambulances I hear?"
"Along with several units of LAPD. Can you come out and meet the officers?"
"No can do. As I said before, I have an agent down and a wounded high-risk offender. In addition, I now also have a civilian present as well."
"Has the building been cleared?"
"I've done a preliminary sweep and found only a body in an upstairs room. We're in the basement, the door to which is in the kitchen."
"Officers coming in now, to be followed by paramedics."
"Copy," Billy replied, biting down the urge to demand that the EMTs were sent in right away as he closed his cell. "You still with me, Donny? EMTs are on their way."
"Yeah... is good."
"So who was the poor guy upstairs anyway?"
"Special Agent... Jeremy Banner."
Billy swore loudly. "One of yours?"
"No... traitor."
"Traitor? Wait, NSA?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, so how'd he end up eviscerated?"
"Eviscerated?" Lawson squeaked, losing what little color he had left.
"Uh..."
Before Billy could try to backpedal, the boy was up and darting awkwardly for the restroom. Since the door to the room was open and he could see the entirety of the small space, he let him go, deciding not to leave Don who'd taken on an ashen pallor as well.
"Frazer gutted him?" Don demanded, hoarsely.
"Basically," Billy said, suddenly realizing what Don was thinking.
Billy felt his own stomach drop at the thought. Was that what Frazer had been planning for Don?
"Okay, if he was a traitor, then why'd Frazer kill him? Had he outlived his purpose?"
"Not yet."
"So?"
"So someone... may have... made him realize... his ultimate fate."
"Yeah?" Billy questioned, a smile spreading across his face. "You stir up some trouble for Keane? Despite being restrained down here? Remind me never to underestimate you."
"Didn't... work."
"Hey, you took one of them out of the equation, that's nothing to sneeze at, whether it went how you wanted it to or not."
"Agent Cooper?"
The voice distracted Billy and he looked back towards the door through which he'd entered. "Yeah, down here."
Two uniformed LAPD officers soon appeared in the doorway and Billy indicated the restroom so that Lawson didn't inadvertently startle them. He could instantly tell the second cop was a rookie by the way he paled and looked like he might follow Lawson's example as he looked around the room. He couldn't blame the guy too much, though, as the basement looked like something out of a nightmare with the area of bloodstains on the concrete floor, the corpse and two seriously wounded men, one of whom had clearly been tortured. The stench of fear and blood added a repugnant smell to the scene while the heavy, bloodstained and splintered chair lying on its side against the far wall left little of what had happened to the imagination.
The senior and more experienced officer approached them, though he too cursed when he got a good look at Don.
"You that missing FBI supervisor the Bureau's been trying to find? Agent Eppes?"
"Yeah," Don confirmed.
"Didn't think you'd be found alive, not after the first few days."
"Wasn't supposed to... happen that way."
"Good thing things didn't go according to their plan then. That guy over there alive?"
"Yeah," Billy confirmed. "Been out since I got here."
"Really?" the cop, Stevens according to his uniform, threw Don a look of admiration. "We'll keep an eye on him while you get Agent Eppes settled with the paramedics. They'll be down in a moment."
"Cop..." Don began, then swallowed and tried again. "Cop killer... Keane."
"What? That one?"
Don nodded and Billy leaned over him, worried.
"One of ours?" Stevens' voice was hard, urgent.
"No... Detroit."
"City doesn't really matter, not with this; nor does the affiliation. Cops, agents, we're all on the same side."
Billy threw the man a grateful smile but then turned his attention straight to the man and woman in paramedic's outfits that rushed down the stairs.
"Over here, this one first," Billy ordered, moving out of the way.
Because he was watching them so closely, Billy saw the way both of the EMTs blanched when they caught sight of Don and the extent of his injuries. At first it puzzled him, as he was sure that they must have seen far more gruesome wounds than what Don was currently sporting. Then it hit him. It wasn't the extent of Don's injuries that was affecting them, but rather the cause, or the nature, of them. Yes, paramedics were used to seeing serious and horrific injuries, but normally they were the result of unintentional causes- accidents, fires, natural disasters- or deliberate ones- murder, suicide, rape, beatings. What they were seeing now, however, was torture, pure and simple. That was something he'd bet they were a lot less used to seeing, especially to this extent.
As he watched them set up next to Don and start examining him, Billy wondered what they'd think if they realized that their patient hadn't been tortured for information or to get him to do something, but rather for the pleasure of hurting him.
"Agent Cooper, what about this one?"
Billy looked over to find that the rookie cop had managed to refrain from puking his guts out and was now instead holding onto Lawson's arm. The boy looked better though he was still pale and shaky and obviously the cause of some concern for one of the other two EMTs who'd arrived. The man was standing by, clearly wanting to have a look at Lawson, but waiting until he was cleared to do so.
"He's an NSA cryptologist who was probably coerced into whatever the hell was going on here."
That was apparently enough for the paramedic as the man instantly approached Lawson and started looking over him, paying particular attention to his wrists and the bloodstained handcuffs.
"The blood's not mine," Lawson stated, looking towards Don. "It's from when they were used on Agent Eppes."
Just as he returned his attention towards his former partner, Billy caught the dirty look the paramedic sent him. The man had obviously deduced that he was the one who'd transferred those cuffs from Don to Lawson. He dismissed the man, knowing that it was easy for the EMT to criticize his actions when he hadn't been there. He'd been caught in a bad situation with an agent down, a wounded but still alive high-risk offender and a potential civilian victim though he couldn't be sure of the boy's loyalties and only had Don's take on them. Though he trusted his former partner implicitly, he didn't know the extent of Don's interactions with Lawson nor all of the details of what had been done to Don.
After nearly a week of captivity, the possibility of something like Stockholm Syndrome setting in was very real, especially if Lawson had been the one to provide Don with food or comfort. Compared to Frazer and his knife, almost any kindness would have been enough to throw the donor of said kindness into sharp contrast. Billy didn't think it likely given what he knew of Don's character and his sheer stubbornness and resourcefulness, but it was a possibility and he simply couldn't take the risk. Not with everything that had been at stake, including Don himself.
When another two paramedics entered the basement with a stretcher, followed by two cops carrying another stretcher, Billy knew that more than two ambulances had been sent. A strangled shout from Don instantly had Billy at his side.
"Sorry," the female EMT said. "He's definitely got some broken as well as cracked ribs."
"Hey, Donny, you still with us?" Billy asked, softly touching his former partner's pale face.
He didn't like the way he'd clenched his eyes shut nor the sweat now on his brow. The attack on Keane and Frazer had clearly taken a lot out of him and it was finally starting to hit Don. That and Billy assumed the knowledge that he was now safe was probably sapping his remaining strength as the adrenaline finally left his system. In response to his question, Don opened his eyes and looked at him.
"Wanna sleep."
The plaintiff quality of Don's voice hit Billy like a physical blow and he had to swallow before he could reply. "Soon, Donny, soon, but first we need to get you to the hospital so the doctors can have a look at you."
"Tired."
"I know, but you need to stay awake until you get to the hospital, okay?"
"'kay."
"There we go, that's better."
"Okay, Agent Eppes, I need you to follow my finger with just your eyes, don't move your head," the female EMT instructed and frowned at his reactions. "Did you take a blow to the head recently?"
"Yes... but also... drugs."
"You were drugged?"
"Yeah."
Billy swore, clenching his fists as the urge to walk over to Keane and hurt him rose within him once more. "Do you know what they used on you?"
"No. In... cabinet."
"I've got it," one of the officers who'd brought the second stretcher in said.
Grateful, Billy watched long enough to ensure that the man pulled on gloves prior to touching anything before he turned his attention back to Don and the paramedic attending him. While waiting for the officer to retrieve the drugs, she continued her exam, her partner scribbling down notes.
"Okay, we've got two sets of bottles in the cabinet," the officer reported, holding two evidence bags. "Neither are marked or labeled in any way. The first is clear while the second is amber in color."
"Were both used on you?" she asked.
"Yes. Clear is sedative... tranq."
"Do you know why they used it?"
"To control him," Billy stated when Don looked at him. "To make him pliable."
"And the other?"
"Pain... pain enhancement," Don said, his voice unsteady as a tremor traveled the length of his body.
This time Billy was unable to remain crouched on the floor. Instead he shot to his feet and took several steps towards Keane before jerking himself around and taking a few steps in the opposite direction. His jaw was clenched so hard it ached and he longed to smash his fist into something but resisted the impulse. The rage was so great he was, for once, speechless. The soft exclamations he heard around him indicated that he wasn't the only one enraged and horrified by this latest revelation.
By the time he'd gotten his emotions under enough control to face Don once more, Billy turned to find the other agent being lowered gently onto the stretcher. The expression on his face indicated how painful the maneuver was, but he managed to choke down any cries of pain that tried to escape. A quick glance about proved that Lawson had been escorted out of the room and that Stevens was standing near Keane as two more paramedics worked to get him ready for transport. Most of the other officers had cleared out to keep from contaminating the scene, so Billy decided it was all right for him to follow Don out of the basement.
He'd really like to accompany Don in the ambulance to the hospital, but as the first one on the scene and the only FBI agent present, Billy knew he should remain and supervise the evidence collection. He mentally cursed procedure as he checked his watch, stunned to find that only a little time had passed since he'd called Sinclair. It was unlikely that he or anyone else from Don's team would arrive any time soon, especially if they had to send someone to inform Don's family of his rescue.
When they stepped outside, Billy found that the once deceptively calm and peaceful neighborhood had been transformed into a veritable zoo of activity. Emergency vehicles of several different types stood parked haphazardly on the driveway, lawn and street, several of them still flashing their lights though, thankfully, not their sirens. The first row consisted of his own car and the police cruisers followed by the ambulances and the mandatory fire engine.
The cops standing about instantly made way for the paramedics and the gurney upon which the stretcher had been placed. Their expressions took on a hard, furious edge as they caught sight of Don and his injuries. Billy himself had to admit that, as bad as it had appeared in the basement, the injuries looked far worse out here. The sunlight threw the contrast between the paleness of what little skin was visible with the blood and bruises into sharp relief.
Billy looked up once more just in time to see an unmarked black Suburban with lights pull up to the outer edge of the initial response vehicles. Hopeful that Sinclair might not have been at the office when he called, he altered course and headed towards the Suburban. As he approached, he saw that neither of the two men who stepped out of the car were familiar even though their suits immediately identified them as fellow agents.
"Special Agent Billy Cooper," Billy introduced himself. "You two with Don Eppes' team?"
"Not his immediate one, no. I'm Henry Gray and this is Nathan Richards, we are part of the Violent Crimes Squad though. How is Agent Eppes?"
"Not so good. He's been tortured extensively but they're loading him into an ambulance now."
"What can we do to help?"
"I've called Sinclair and he's on his way, but I'd like to accompany Don to the hospital."
"We can take over the scene until Sinclair arrives. What do we have?"
A quick synopsis of what he was knew was all Billy was able to relay to them before any further discussion was cut short by a sharp, desperate cry of pain and fear that he instantly identified as Don's.
Chapter 25