Author:DreamBrother
Summary:When federal agents start becoming the target of a nameless, faceless killer without any apparent agenda, how long before one of the team becomes the next agent down?
Disclaimer:Numb3rs isn't mine.
Author's Note:An experiment, doing something a bit more case-related. Solve a mystery, find the bad guy etc. Also, I needed to get the opening scene out of my head, where it's been since late May, story can be developed later, even if it's a typical one and has been done a million times before. But first, I need my Coco Pops, I'm hungry.
Also, I'm not very aware of police protocol etc, so bear with me.
Guarding the Guardians
(Introduction)
The FBI group and the CalSci group, with one Alan Eppes presiding, were gathered around the dining table at the Eppes' Craftsman home. It was a tight fit, but they managed. Dinner had been served and eaten, and everyone was now enjoying a huge helping of home-made vanilla ice-cream, courtesy of Larry Fleinhardt and his container of liquid nitrogen.
"You know you've come a long way from Winchester, Idaho when ice-cream is made in front of you at the dinner table, in the space of a few seconds," commented Colby, as he accepted the serving Don passed to him.
"Man, it's taken you this long to realize that? I knew this wasn't New York when I found out there are no decent pizza places at all, and you have to drive everywhere," said David.
"Come on, David, you're saying that as if you don't love having an excuse to drive that big red jeep of yours around," chided Megan, looping an arm through Larry's as he got done with mixing the liquid nitrogen and serving the ice cream.
"And according to statistics, New York and Los Angeles are total opposites when it comes down to the main means of transportation, with most New Yorkers not owning a car, but in L.A there's a registered vehicle for every 1.8 people," contributed Charlie.
"Well I can tell you for certain that transportation is not a major cause of concern in Antarctica, that's for sure," added Millie, "but it's not my home town so I guess that doesn't count."
"What I'd like to comment on is how we've managed to work our way from talking about instant ice-cream to forms of transportation across the United States and Antarctica in the space of a few sentences," said Alan.
"After all these years, does it still surprise you Dad?" asked Don, as he leaned back in his chair.
Alan was prevented from answering as Don's cell-phone rang, and as though a switch had been flipped, David, Megan and Colby paused in whatever conversation they were engaged in with others at the table to look at their team-leader as he answered the phone and listened to the person on the other end.
"Eppes," greeted Don in his usual succinct way. Whatever the person on the other line said, however, wasn't usual. All those sitting around the table didn't need to be trained in the art of reading body language to guess that the semi-bowed head and the clenched jaw were not reactions to good news. All as one, they listened to Don's side of the conversation:
"Which agents? ... Any witnesses? ... Have their families been informed?" Don's tone then changed from questioning to commanding, shedding any surprise or shock to take control of the situation at hand, "Their team lead is in Dallas… have his family taken to a safe house until we figure out the motive and have him picked up by an agent as soon as he lands… I'm with my team, I'll brief them. Address? Alright, we'll be there in 20," and with that Don flipped his phone shut and looked up to see all eyes on him.
"Don?" Megan was the first to query, worry leaving the slightest of traces in her voice.
"Harper and Collins have been shot and killed. They were off-duty, underground parking garage at Harper's apartment building, no witnesses. Looks like it might have been pre-meditated. Let's go," said Don, getting up and clipping his cell-phone on to its place on his belt and checking that his gun was in its holster. His team mimicked the move but Megan could not prevent herself from saying:
"But Collins just got married a month ago," protested Megan, the shock of losing two fellow agents in the space of a few seconds cracking her professional demeanour for a second. David and Colby were also not far removed from mimicking Megan themselves, their eyes not leaving Don, brows furrowed.
Don paused before answering, "So it couldn't have been the wife. Even Collins couldn't have pissed her off that fast," the almost detached and uncaring words were enough to make Megan remember that they couldn't break down now; the time to mourn was for after. "AD Wright's already informed the families, Gallagher's been told, he's flying back now. Wright wants this to be our main priority, so Megan, I need you to go to office and sign off and transfer our other cases and start pulling records on the last few cases the guys worked on and check if any of the people Harper Collins are responsible for putting in jail have been released in the past… year. Let's roll."
And with that, the agents started moving towards the front door, grabbing their coats on the way out, Don was the last to leave but before he left he remembered that they weren't alone. Turning to the CalSci contingent and his father, he said, "Sorry guys, we'll try and stick around for longer, next time."
Charlie quickly found his voice and piped up, "Do you need me to come with? I can get a head start on some calculations, help you-," but was interrupted by his brother.
"Not now Charlie, let us get a handle on the situation first, I'll call you when we need you, alright?" Without waiting for an answer Don turned on his heels and followed in his team's footsteps, outside the front door.
Charlie and Alan, as well as Larry, Amita and Millie, sat in silence as they heard car doors open and slam, engines start and vehicles pull away from the driveway and down the street. The turning on of sirens was the last sound to reach their ears.
TBC
Well, there you have it. The intro. I'm not sure how quickly I'l be writing the story, I might just take it slow, fill in the gaps with oneshots. Hope the one-sided conv. didn't get too confusing and that I've got the gist of it across.
But then again, I do not doubt the power of reviews to make me write faster and to keep the muse well-oiled :-). Good, bad, let me know what you think. Ooh, mail's here, I wonder if my Jeff Buckley album has come -zips off to check-