A DISH BEST SERVED COLD
"Wilkins, did you get anything?" Don said, sitting down at his desk. "No can do, boss," Wilkins replied, swiviling to look at Don, "None of them had enemies. In fact most of them were urged not to transfer." "Was there anything else tying them?" "No," David replied, "There were crossings on cases, but none with all of them. As for the interchange on the cases there were no loose ends or anyone left with power to hit back." "So we have nothing," Don replied, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah," David replied, tossing the file he was holding on his desk. Don covered his eyes tiredly with his hands. "Maybe there was something from before their work in the bureau," Wilkins suggested. Don glanced over at him. Sliding his hands down from his face he leaned forward again. "Maybe," he said, "How long will it take to pull up the file?" "I can have it here by morning," Wilkins replied. "That's the best you can do?" Don asked, harsher then he would have liked "Sorry, boss, but I'll need a lot more details then are in the file at the moment," Wilkins replied, seeming to let the comment slide. "It's okay," Don answered, "Just get it as soon as you can." "Yes,sir," Wilkins replied. With that he stood up and headed off. Don let out a loud breath. David shot him a questioning look. "You okay, Don?" he asked, rememberint what Wilkins had told him. "Yeah," Don replied, "I'm just tired." David paused for only a second and replied, "Why don't you go home? You heard Wilkins, he can't get the file till morning." Don opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. "You're right," he muttered, "I haven't slept in my bed for about a week." "No time like the present." Don snickered. "See you tomorrow, David," he replied. "See you," David called back holding up his hand. Don walked to his car. Rubbing his eyes as he opened the door he climbed in. Starting the car he backed out of the parking space. Something felt strange, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Pulling out of the garage he turned into the lane. Casually he looked at his rearview mirror. Hethen realized what was wrong. The mirror was askew, as though someone had bumped into it. Reaching his hand up he adjusted it. Suddenly, two strong arms grabbed around his waist and something sharped poked into his ribs. "Ahh!" he called out grabbing a hold of the wheel as the car started to move. One arm and the sharp point moved up till it touched his chest. "Drive where I tell you," someone whispered behind him, " And don't even think of doing something stupid." Don's mind instantly evaluated the situation. Despite the self preservation instinct fighting to stop the car and get away, his FBI training kept it's hold. Cautiously he did whatever the owner of the voice said. "There's no point in doing this," Don said after driving himself and his so-far captor slightly out of the city. "Quiet!" the voice whispered, "Don't you think the others tried that. Now park here." Don manuevered the car into an empty lot. "Put your hands back here," the voice said. Don did as he was told, but prepared to grab his captor's arm. The thought proved to no avail as he felt metal wrap around both hands. Struggling slightly he realized his captor had handcuffed him to his car seat. Before he could say or do anything, though, a sudden pain errupted in the back of his head. Darkness enveloped in front of his eyes as he sank into unconciousness.
Back Home Numb3rs Main Page Next