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Undercover	By : IrenaAdler Category: M through R > NUMB3RS Views: 2309 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Part 31 �
Interrogation

The silly exchange that he�d had with Will cheered Don more
than he thought possible.� His Will was still there.� Only time would tell if there had been any
brain damage, but at least Will�s personality was intact.� The slurred speech thing worried him a
little, since, according to Amy, the part of the brain that had been struck was
where some language skills were, along with memory and hearing.� Will�s hearing seemed fine, especially
considering he�d heard so much while in the coma.� Testing his memory, well, that would just
have to wait.� Will�s talking did seem to
be improving every waking period, so hopefully Will�s brain was still just healing.� Don smiled to himself.� He had the feeling that Will would overcome any
talking issues very quickly.� Sanchez had
nailed it when she said that a non-talking Will just wasn�t right.

The door swung open and Megan leaned in.� �Don,� she said quietly, since Will was
asleep.� �I was driving out of the
parking lot when I got a call from the agents in Newport Beach.�

Don set his magazine down and quickly followed Megan out of
the room and down the hall.� In the
atrium, she handed him her phone.

�Eppes,� he snapped.

�We�ve got him,� the agent said.� �We�re bringing him in.�

Excitement rushed through Don, making his body tingle and
his voice harsh.� �Has he talked?��

�He hasn�t stopped
talking, but all he talks about are warrantless searches and Fourth Amendment
rights and shit like that.� But we did
everything by the book, I swear.� By the
book.�

�Okay,� Don said, hoping that the agent was telling the
truth.� �Bring him in.�

�We�ll be about an hour and a half.�

�We�ll warm up the interrogation room for you,� Don said
with anticipation.� He hung up the phone
and grinned at Megan.� �They�ve got our
hacker.�

Megan raised her eyebrows.�
Don realized his smile had been a bit too bloodthirsty.� He was going to have to tone it down if he
wanted to be let into that interrogation room.�
And, God, did he want to be there �

Trying to look less eager, Don handed Megan her phone and
went to tell Alan that he was heading into the office.

When Don reached the FBI office, he realized that he hadn�t
been here since he�d started his DEA training.�
That felt like years ago, but the office had changed little.� Even his desk had the same cold-case folders
on it as before.�

He walked right by his desk � it was a hot case he was
interested in.� A case that made his
blood boil.

David met him and didn�t bother with pleasantries.� �Charlie was able to narrow down the window
that the hacker could have sent the email in, to within four specific fifteen
minute intervals.� We matched that up
with surveillance footage and were able to focus in on a man named Matt Rubel.�

�Tell me about him.�

�He�s 32, Caucasian, and works on and off as a computer
programmer.� He doesn�t seem to hold a
job for more than four or five months, enough time to accumulate some money,
then quits.� He is highly sought after by
computer companies, can pretty much name his price.� They seem to view him as some sort of
magician.�

Don nodded and looked at Megan, who had gotten here before
him and was now perusing a file.�

Megan said slowly, �He�s brilliant, focused, and obsessed
with computers.� Doesn�t care if people
like him, just that they respect him.�
You�ll find him difficult to intimidate.�
The most effective way to get to him is probably to show him an error in
his work, which is gonna be hard to do.�
Charlie was very impressed by that work.�

Don�s lips twisted, remembering Charlie�s enthusiasm in the
hospital room.� He pushed the anger aside
and turned back to David.� �Family?� Friends?�

�Not that we can find,� David admitted.� �He does have two brothers, but one is living
in Europe somewhere and the other is missing completely.� He also seems to have few friends, the few
associates we could pinpoint are more in the way of rivals.�

�So if he�s so great, then how did we catch him?�� Don asked.

David grimaced.� �We
haven�t really.� He�s confessed to nothing,
and all we have is proof that he logged on to the caf�s system at the time the
email was sent.� Other people logged on
during those four fifteen minute intervals Charlie gave us, but they all had
trails � things that they did.� They sent
email or chatted or looked at web sites.�
As far as the computer is concerned, though, Rubel logged in, sat there
for thirty minutes, then logged off again.�

�He wiped the log files,� Don said.

�Exactly.�

�Not the behavior of someone with nothing to hide.�

�But not illegal either,� David said reluctantly. �We could
probably hit him with some misdemeanor charge for tampering with the caf�s
computer systems, but that�s about it.�

�So,� Don said slowly, his mind churning through the
information supplied to him.� �We have to
break him down in interrogation.�

�Yep,� David said.�
�He�ll be here in a few minutes.�

Don spent the next few minutes reading through David�s notes
and looking up every time the elevator dinged.�
Finally the elevator door slid open to reveal the two Newport Beach
agents and a non-descript man in a T-shirt and blue jeans.� Don�s eyes fastened avidly on the man at
least partially responsible for Will�s condition.�

The man looked around the office with interest, his eyes
bright.

�Not intimidated at all,� Megan said quietly at Don�s
shoulder.

�We�ll see about that,� Don growled.

Megan put her hand on his shoulder.� She didn�t have to say anything.� Don nodded and closed his eyes, taking a few
deep breaths.� This guy sounded like he�d
cry Police Brutality if he even got looked at hard.

The agents put Rubel in an interrogation room and Don let
him stew there for a few minutes while he got himself under control.� He couldn�t hold himself back for long,
though.�� He got to his feet and went to
the room, Megan following behind him.� He
appreciated Megan being there to keep him in check and also resented the hell
out of it.

He pushed open the door, strode across the room, pulled out
a chair, turned it to face Rubel and sat down.�
Megan followed slower and sat across the table from Rubel.

�I�m Special Agent Don Eppes,� Don snapped.� �And you are in a helluva lotta trouble.�

�Oh, really?� Rubel said with a smile.

Don ticked the items off on his fingers. ��We�ve got you for computer fraud, abuse,
extortion, interfering with federal investigations, endangering federal
officers��

�You haven�t got anything��

Don interrupted, �We have evidence that you sent emails that
directly led to the serious injury of federal officers, as well as aided in the
commission of multiple felonies.�

�It put two agents in the hospital,� Megan said in her
gentle voice.� �One almost lost his
life.� And it allowed a great deal of
drugs to get to the streets.� Is that
what you wanted?�

Don continued, �You logged onto the computer in the caf�,
you sent the email to John and Jarvis Richland, you warned them that Will and I
were at the retreat, including our names and descriptions, you helped them set
up an ambush for us.�

Megan said, �Maybe you didn�t intend to cause injury, just
to warn them.� Is that what happened,
Matt?�

�Good cop, bad cop,� Rubel laughed.� �You guys really do that shit.� Even if I had
sent any emails, you have no proof.�

�We have proof,� Don lied.�
�Your electronic fingerprints are all over this.� We have you cold.�

�Yeah, yeah,� Ruble snorted.�
�You can lie or say anything you want to try to make me confess, but
that doesn�t make it true.�

�You don�t deny that you were in the caf�,� Don said.

�Why should I?� Is it
suddenly a crime to visit an Internet caf�?�

�Why�d you clean out the log files?�

�So people like you wouldn�t go poking around in my
business,� Rubel sneered.

�Why, if you have nothing to hide?�

�Oh, you�re not going to get me with that Patriot Act
bullshit!� If I don�t give up my civil
liberties, I must be a bad guy.� I
believe in privacy but that doesn�t make me a terrorist.�

Don gritted his teeth.�
It didn�t matter that there was some sense in Rubel�s arguments.� All that mattered was Rubel held the key to
who had put Will in the line of fire.�
Don was glad of one thing, however.�
Rubel�s belief in his own superiority was keeping him from asking for a
lawyer.

�Who did you get the information from?�� Don snapped.

�What information?��
Rubel said snidely.� �Baseball box
scores?�

�Who in the DEA told you about the operation?� What did he do, call you?� Email you?�

�You are so out of your depth,� Rubel chuckled.

Don jumped up, his chair skidding.� �Out of my depth?�� Don growled, advancing on Rubel.� �Out of my depth was trying to stop my
partner from bleeding to death with an old T-shirt.� Out of my depth was watching him struggle for
every breath.� Out of my depth was not
being able to do anything about the bullet
in his brain!��

�Don!� Megan yelled in his ear and Don realized that he had
Rubel�s collar gripped in his hands and was shouting in Rubel�s face.

With a snarl, Don dropped Rubel back into his chair and
pushed his way past Megan and out of the office.� He got around a corner where he couldn�t be
seen by Rubel and took his anger out on a metal trashcan, putting foot-sized
dents in it.� He kicked it over and over
until the red haze cleared from his vision.�
He stood, gasping and shaking.

Megan cautiously put her hand on Don�s shoulder.

�Thanks,� Don mumbled at last.

�Yeah,� Megan said quietly.

Silently they walked back past the interrogation room and
into the observation room.� On the other
side of the one-way mirror, Rubel was straightening his shirt and patting down
his hair.� He had a smug look on his
face, obviously pleased that he�d made Don lose control.

Don folded his arms and glared through the mirror.� He felt the familiar frustration of a failed
interrogation, but this was multiplied ten-fold.� �You know what we need?�

�Someone to shut the blinds and make invisible bruises?�
Megan responded sharply.

�Nope,� Don said with grim humor.� �We need a fan.� Get Charlie.�
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