Decoy

Lane couldn't have felt more low. Even though Angel didn't say so outright, he could hear the hurt in her voice, and it made him all the sorrier. He had neglected to consider that he might be important to someone else. That someone else might want or need him in their lives. Instead, he'd looked only after his own interests. Safety for his family or not, he should have come sooner. Much sooner. His eyes remained on the table.

Mick downed the rest of his coffee and nodded thoughtfully at Angel's question. Brother and sister would have to work through their relationship later. "Well, whether help is on the way or not, we can at least establish some starting points. Like where you guys were exactly when you were taken, how many details you can remember about the entire incident..." He looked to Lane's quiet form. "Lane?"

"Huh? Oh. Right. Yeah." Lane rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I don't know how much I can help - it was all pretty confusing, but I'll tell you what I know." At least for now, the subject would no longer be on his past. He had a sinking feeling he'd need to revisit the topic again later with Angel, but at the moment, they had more important things to do...


...It was late. Or early, depending on how one would view the time. Just after three in the morning, and the night was pitch black. A set of headlights appeared at the end of the ranch driveway, paused, then drove away. With his ballcap pulled low, Con scanned the dark surroundings before moving forward. It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd been here, yet it was still familiar. His laced-up boots crunched on the gravel, although he made less sound than one would think for a man his size. Making his way to the main house, he wasn't surprised to see a couple lights on. His presence should be expected. Nonetheless, he knew about Stacy, and walked with caution. Getting up on the porch, he knocked lightly on the door and waited.

Inside, it was fairly quiet. Most had gone to bed, but a few remained up - or as up as possible with the aid of coffee. Lane had finally passed out on the couch, Eric was out making sure the girls were taken care of before he'd be back, Trent was half-asleep in an easy chair, and Luke had taken his leave earlier, unable to stay up any longer. Mick was still wide awake though, along with Rosetta, Wes, Sparky, Angel and Jeff who had joined the little group when he'd heard about what was going on. There wasn't much to do right now though. Lane had been through everything he knew at least ten times, and until they heard from the Agency or the Elite showed up, they could just remain alert and be patient - which wasn't easy. Jeff had started a card game with Wes and Sparky just to stay awake, but even that was getting less and less lively as the night dragged on.

Hearing the knock at the door, Mick jumped, not having realized he'd spaced out. Was it friend or foe at this hour? Reese had said he might send someone, but that was the last they'd heard. Without saying anything, Mick got to his feet and went to the closet first, retrieving his shotgun before going to the door. Holding it barrel-up, he paused at the closed door. "Who is it?" he called loudly.

"Con Gibbs," came the quick reply.

Mick relaxed and opened the door, still cautious, but glad to see it was a friend. "Come on in. You alone?"

"Yeah." Con entered and took a look around, giving a wave to those he recognized.

"Hey, it's the giant!" Sparky grinned. "Welcome back!"

Con wasn't a hundred percent sure what Sparky had said, but they all seemed surprised. He eyed the shotgun. "Reese didn't tell you I was coming?"

Mick shook his head. "He said he was gonna try to get somebody but that was last we knew. I thought you were off the force."

"I was. Am. Just lending a hand."

"Yeah, Reese said things were pretty crazy."

"That's an understatement. And another story. So...what's the scoop?"

It took a while, but eventually the whole story was told - from the very beginning when Lane first met everyone and found his sister, to the present and his current situation. By five o'clock, Con was sipping coffee and considering all their options. There wasn't a whole lot to go on yet, which was what he'd feared. Though Lane had provided details of the actual abduction, there were a lot of holes. Their best bet was going to be old fashioned detective work, pounding the pavement and retracing steps, unless things progressed in a different direction. He was about to ask another question when Lane joined them.

Lane trudged back into the dining room, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He hurt all over from lying crooked on the couch, and his back was killing him. But no one would hear him complain. Seeing the newcomer, hope filled his gaze. And a bit of surprise. This was one big man.

"Lane, this is Conrad," Mick introduced. "The Elite sent him to help."

"Just Con will do." Con extended his hand. "Sorry we're not meeting under better circumstances."

"Me too." Lane shook his hand before he slumped down in an extra chair. "Any bright ideas?"

"Not yet. But we're working on it."

Without warning, Lane's cell phone rang, setting everyone on edge. It took just an extra second for Con to realize the sound was a ringtone and his eyebrows rose. "Is it them?"

Lane fumbled with his phone before nodding.

Con shot up from the table and went for his bag. "Answer it," he ordered. "Keep them on the line."

"But-"

"Do it!"

Lane let it go a couple more seconds before answering. "Hello?" He looked at question to Con who had already returned and was setting up his laptop. "Yeah, no... What? It's five in the morning! I'm not even awake yet. I thought you were going to wait for me to call you."

Con's leg bounced under the table as he waited for his laptop to boot up, then started opening programs and pulled out some further pieces of high-end technology to plug in. He motioned for Lane to keep talking.

Lane swallowed hard. "I told you when I had something solid, I'd let you know! Besides, you haven't let me talk to Travis like you promised." He rubbed his forehead wearily as he was turned down again.

Con set a hand on his arm. "Throw him a bone," he whispered. "You've got to convince him you're trying to do what they want."

Lane covered the microphone. "I don't have anything!" he hissed, frustrated.

"Tell them you learned about the computer chips and you just need to find out where they are." Con pointed to the phone sternly. Lane had to keep it together, or this whole thing would go south.

Lane gritted his teeth, but obeyed. "You wanted me to find out about those computer chips, and I am. I just need a little more time. I got 'em to talk about it yesterday but I don't know where they're keeping them yet." He paused as he listened. "How many times do I have to tell you, I can't work miracles?! I don't understand why you think I can just waltz in here and overnight have all the answers you want! Now let me talk to Travis!"

Click.

It took all his willpower for Lane not to slam his phone down on the table. He shot a glare to Con. "Thanks to you, they now want to know where the chips are by tomorrow."

Con didn't react to the anger, and simply kept his eyes on the monitor. "We lost time since I wasn't set up yet, but the call came from within a fifty mile radius. Do you think your son is being held in the same place you were taken?"

Lane sighed. "I don't know... I suppose it's possible." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I have no idea."

Con glanced around at the others. He had more questions - they needed to figure out exactly where Travis was. But Lane was in no shape for further promptings. "How 'bout we take a break and get some rest, huh? We'll be able to think straighter in a few hours."

"No." Lane remained stubborn. "We have to find him. We have to get Travis out of there. I'm not going anywhere until we're closer to an answer."

Con stood up and towered above Lane. "Come again?"

Lane wasn't sure whether this huge officer was kidding or not. He was angry at being pushed around, but too tired to fight. He was beyond frustrated, but too exhausted to think straight. Con's eyes stared at him so intensely that he finally dropped his gaze first and scooted his chair back. "I'll be in my bunk," he mumbled. "But only for a little while."

Once he'd left, Con sat back down again and returned to his computer.

Mick's eyebrows had risen. There seemed to be an edge to Con that wasn't there before. Not quite harsh, but not as gentle as he used to be. The presence of hearing aids hadn't gone unnoticed either, but no one had drawn attention to it. "You gonna take a break, too?"

"Probably should."

There was a long pause until Mick spoke again. "Kinda hard on Lane weren't you?"

Con finally looked over at him. "If he woulda stayed here any longer, he was going to either collapse or pick a fight with all of us."

Mick had to agree. But still.

Con's eyes shifted back to his work. He needed to map out this entire area and familiarize himself with the territory again so they could come up with some possible locations. He didn't like it that he was here and that a kid's life was on the line. It was too much responsibility. But...he hadn't been able to say no...

...Had the doorbell just sounded? Con wasn't sure. Sighing, he got up from the couch where he'd just about been asleep. It was his day off and he was trying to take advantage of it and get some rest while Jamie was at work so they could enjoy a quiet evening together. Getting to the door and opening it to see Reese was not in the plans. "Reese? What's going on?"

"Can I come in?"

"Is Jamie okay?"

"Oh yes. Yes. She's fine. But can I talk to you for a minute?"

Con frowned. What was going on? "Yeah, okay." He let Reese in and returned to the living room to sit, turning up his hearing aids. "What is it?"

Reese eased down in a chair and folded his hands. "I need your help."

Con rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not coming back?"

"I'm not asking you to come back. But I do need your help." Reese leaned forward. "We're in the middle of an intense case, I'm shorthanded, the FBI is breathing down our necks, and there's a situation that needs our attention in Texas."

One of Con's eyebrows quirked. "At the ranch?"

"Yes. An old family member showed up. Angel's brother. He's got a son who's just eighteen years old and the Agency's taken him in the hopes of gaining intel on the ranch. The ranch needs help getting the boy back safely but they can't go to the police, and I can spare no one right now." Reese looked Con in the eye. "I need you. A young man needs you. You're the only one I'd trust to send in alone to help, and you know I wouldn't ask you unless I was desperate."

Con's shoulders sank. "Don't ask me to do this."

"I'm asking. No strings. One time. And if someone here frees up before the case is over, you'll be released from your responsibility."

"I don't think I should-"

"For an innocent kid, Conrad... please..."

Mick rising from the table brought Con's attention back, and he sighed. Maybe he was the one who needed a break. His ears were throbbing but he didn't dare take out his hearing aids at this point, and it made him grouchy. Actually, this whole thing did. His eyes shifted over to the other side of the table where Angel was. What was her take on all this? He wondered.

"What was he like when you knew him before? Your brother, I mean."


Jason nodded thoughtfully, listening to Nate. He turned his attention to Garret again. Reese seemed to still be leery about him - was it just fear based on experience, or was it wisdom? Jason couldn't tell. What he could tell, was that Nate trusted Garret. And right now, if Jason had to bet money, he'd have to admit it seemed Garret was being genuine. Of course, he was most likely a very good liar, but Jason had pretty good instincts, and he trusted Nate's instincts, too.

"I say let's do it. As much as I hate to admit it, it makes sense to take a different approach this time. Unfortunately, all I can do is provide backup or communications. If I've got a tail, they're gonna be watching me and I can't risk blowing this."

Garret could feel his pulse start to quicken. All he wanted was to be one of the ones to go in. To prove he was on their side so he'd have more freedom. His eyes shifted to Nate with question and just a hint of hope. "Two men would do it," he tried to convince him. "One as a decoy - someone who would act as though they were attempting a one-man rescue mission. It would lead the operative away from his post just long enough for the real rescuer to get the girl out."

"How can you be so sure there's only one Agency man?" Jason questioned.

"I can smell it."

Jason squinted at him. Was he bluffing? "What about the threat of a second captive?"

"If they're there, we get them both out. If not, we at least get one."

"And what danger does that put the second target in?"

"A lot." Garret wasn't kidding. "But if you don't rescue one, both are going to die. This is a mission built solely on torturing Justin. That, plus the threat, means they already plan to kill someone in such a way to affect him personally. It's one of their scripted methods. If we don't act now, both will be killed. As long as you don't know who the second target it is, you can only try to get one out and just pray we find the other one in time."

Jason sighed. He saw the look of hope, but didn't know if they were ready yet to put Garret in the field, let alone on such a high-risk case. "Wyatt might be a good choice," he suggested. Reese might choose Gunner, but Wyatt had a cooler head for something like this. "Or you could use Katie as long as I stay put here." He paused in thought."The decoy had better be good though."

"Agreed." Garret nodded. "They need to be able to move fast, keep the operative away long enough for the rescue to take place, and know how to keep themselves alive if or when the operative catches them."

Jason's eyes went back to Nate again. Garret knew his stuff, no doubt. And if he was going to be involved, Jason would rather Garret be the decoy than an Elite officer. But it wasn't his call to make. It was Nate's.