A DISH BEST SERVED COLD
Don sat with his back pressed against the ice cold wall. The concrete floor didn't give much comfort to his painfully throbbing legs. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he layed his now free hands across them and rested his head. He knew he should keep his eyes open and get used to the light, but he couldn't. For some reason, his brain refused to do anything but try and figure out the events so far. "Sit down," the man had ordered pushing Don into another chair. Don watched as the other man walked over to the stool across from Don. Sitting down he stared at him, as though trying to figure him out. "What do you want?" Don asked, "Why did you kidnap me and the other agents?" He watched as a small smirk spread on the man's face. "Typical," the man finally said, "You always thought you could figure me out. Geez, Don. Wake up and smell the coffee," the man jumped down from the stool and approached Don. Don uncharacteristically pushed himself back as the man leaned forward to look into his eyes. He saw a flash of anger erupt behind the other man's eyes. Suddenly the meaning of his words clicked. "Who are you?" Don demanded. The small smirk flickered into a large smile. "Think about it, Don," the man replied, standing up, "Just think about it." With that he presented a key and shoved Don to his knees. Unlocking the cuffs he kicked Don to the floor and made a run for the door. Don pushed himself up in time to see the man peek out from the door. "Remember, Don," he replied, "Some good acts come at a price." Don made a running dive for the door but it was shoved closed in his face. Angrily he pounded on it. Grasping the handle he tried to force it open, only to find it locked. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. A small rumble in his stomach interrupted Don from his thoughts. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. As that small complaint hit home, so did the rest. His legs began to ache again and he started to realize how bright the rooms lights were. To keep his legs from hurting more and to conserve his energy Don sat on the ground, and that's were he remained. Replaying the event in his mind again, Don still didn't have a clue what was going 't even recognize the man's voice and therewas no connection between him and the others. He didn't remember working with any of them other then Edwards. Suddenly he heard the sound of the door open. Looking up, he immediatly covered his eyes in pain. The light was a lot stronger then he thought. He felt the metal strap to his hand and someone physically lift him up. "Time for the test, Don," his captor sneered, and dragged him off to an unknown fate. Terry paused, noticing Charlie's lack of communication. Looking him over she noticed, worryingly, that his eyes were glazed over and his hands clasped together as if grabbing something invisible. "Charlie," she said, suprised she grabbed his attention, "You need to concentrate. We need you help. For Don's sake." Something in those words instantly triggered a reaction from Charlie. Looking over at her with desperate eyes he murmered, "Do you have any hard data I can use." Terry nodded towards a file on the dash board, "Right there, Charlie." The young man grabbed the folder, as though his life depended on it and began leafing through it's contents. Terry watched, her background arousing curiousity in her. Then, feeling like she was invading something sacred she pulled her eyes away and let Charlie work.
Charlie barely noticed the plane ride to L.A. or getting through the airport. He didn't even notice as Terry led him carefully to the car. Numbly he took a seat in the passenger side and listened as Terry explained what little they knew on the way to the office. Everything passed in immediate flashes with no real chronology to it. In fact, for the first time in his life numbers didn't have any consequence for him.
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