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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.

Chapter List
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Part 4� Cut Loose

Saturday morning, Will and Don met with the DEA team one last
time.� Both Will and Don committed to
memory the phone number that twenty-four-hours a day would connect them
directly to the team.� Getting to access
to a phone would be the trick.� A few
last minute instructions and updates � a new case had come in to the local
hospital that gave them a wider picture of Cloud Ten�s side-effects � then Don
and Will were cut loose.�

Sanchez shook both of their hands, wishing them luck, before
Don and Will got into Will�s car.�

�Think we�re ready?��
Don asked.� He sounded
anxious.�

�Babe,� Will said with a smile, �I was born ready.�

Don rolled his eyes and relaxed minutely.�

Trying to relax as well, Will put the car into gear.� It was a type of work he excelled in, he told
himself.� Short-term, high stakes.� He glanced over at Don.� Highest
stakes possible.

It didn�t help that they were going in without guns or any
means of communicating with their backup.�
If �backup� was the right word, because their nearest aid would be at
least 20 minutes away, the closest a team could get to Clear Creek without
causing suspicion.� Don and Will pulled
out of the parking lot, leaving behind the black van containing the rest of the
team, and set out for the Santa Monica Mountains.

On their drive, they reviewed what little their predecessors
had been able to glean about Clear Creek�s likely drug connection.� The day manager, Guy Perez, and the night
manager, Lynn Cole, seemed legit.� More
suspicious were the owners of the retreat, John and Jarvis Richland.� The Richland brothers had a private house on
the grounds, a large house with a suspicious amount of security.� Various people came and went from the house
at all times of night.� Several times a
mysterious white delivery truck had been spotted in the driveway.� Sure, the retreat needed deliveries, but all
those trucks were identifiable.� The one
time that the DEA had been able to trail the white van and look into it after
it had stopped at a truck stop, it was empty, with no traces that the drug
canines could recognize.

After a while, Don and Will got to talking about the philosophies
behind undercover work.��

�It seems impossible to pretend 24 hours a day,� Don said.

�You don�t pretend,� Will said earnestly, �You become
another person, you are that person.�

Don put his hand on Will�s leg.� �How do you do it?� he asked quietly.

Will looked down at the steering wheel.� He�d never told anyone this before, and it
would probably sound stupid.� Still, this
was Don.

Will tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, a nervous habit
he�d never been able to break, and said,�
�I picture Will Stevens separating from my body, leaving my body as sort
of a blank slate.� Then I take Will
Stevens and imagine folding him up smaller and smaller, and sort of stick him
way back in my mind.�� Then I put on a
new person, like a new skin.�� He tucked
more hair behind his ear.� �I always
picture a thin, invisible string, like fishing line, which goes all the way
back to the person, me, Will Stevens, that I�ve put away.� When I remove the other person, I fold them
up and put them on a shelf, like a set of clothes.� Then I pull the string and Will Stevens
suddenly expands and sort of rushes at me and overwhelms the blank slate and I
become myself again.�

Will looked at Don out of the corner of his eye to see what
he thought of this silliness.� Don was
nodding thoughtfully.�

After a moment, Don asked, �Why do you think you�re so good
at it?�

Will gave him a bitter smile.� �I spent large chunks of my life trying to be
someone I wasn�t, trying so hard that I sometimes succeeded and could be the son my parents wanted.� But it wasn�t me.� I guess I just developed a knack for becoming
other people.�

Sighing, Don stroked Will�s cheek.� �I love you,
Will Stevens.�

�I know, I know,� Will said, turning his head to kiss Don�s
hand.� �Well, I�m gonna be Will Stevens
this time in everything but name.�� He
met Don�s eyes.� �I hope I can pull it
off.�

Don smiled warmly and put his hand back on Will�s leg.� �I have no doubt you can.� You�re one of the best.�

Will�s heart lightened and he grinned. �Well, yeah.�

Don laughed and they drove the rest of the way in
comfortable silence.

An hour later, they pulled into a long, winding driveway
through a pristine oak wood.� Will sighed
to himself that such a gorgeous area might hide the manufacture of such a
destructive drug.� Then Will banished all
thoughts of drugs and concentrated on thoughts of a relaxing vacation.

They parked in front of a small building, tastefully blended
into the local woodlands.� They got their
luggage and walked into the building.� A
soft fountain gurgled away in one corner of a small lobby.� The place practically oozed tranquility.� A blonde woman at the desk looked up with a
bright smile.

�Reservation for Park?��
Will asked.

�Yes,� the desk clerk said.�
�Welcome to Clear Creek!� I see
you two will be with us for a week.�

�Yeah,� Will said with a wide grin.� �A whole week.�

�Wonderful!� the clerk said.�
She handed Will a folder packed with brochures and flyers.� �We have a wide range of activities for you,
from sports to yoga to talk therapy.�

A small Latino man came out of the door behind the desk.� �Hello!�
I�m Guy Perez, the manager,� he said, reaching out a hand.

�Will Park,� Will said, shaking his hand.�

Don reached around Will and shook Perez�s hand as well.� �Don Sanger.�

�So what do you boys do that lets you take a week off?�� Perez asked pleasantly.

Will and Don grinned at each other.�

�A whole week,� Don said happily.

�I�m an EMT � Emergency Medical Technician,� Will said.� �And Don is��

�An independent fugitive retrieval specialist,� Don said
quickly.

�Aw,� Will said with a smile, �Bounty hunter is so much
sexier.�

Perez looked impressed.

Don rolled his eyes. �Then people start asking me if I know
�Dog� or thinking I�m some Wild West cartoon character.�

�No?� Perez asked, smiling.

�Naw,� Don said easily.�
�Tracking fugitives is weeks and weeks of boredom then a few minutes of
sheer adrenaline.�

�You love it,� Will teased.

Don shrugged and smiled.�
�Has its moments.�

Perez looked back and forth between them.� �An EMT and a bounty hunter?�

Will nodded.� �We met
when Don got a little � too enthusiastic with subduing a fugitive.�

�He was a serial child rapist,� Don said, with a hint of
dark satisfaction.

�Ah,� Perez said.�
�So, what can Clear Creek do for you?�

�Nothing,� Will said fervently.

Don grinned.� �What he
means is that we�re looking forward to a week with no interruptions, no calls
in the middle of the night, no emergencies, no taking off to Phoenix at a
moment�s notice.�

�We can do that,� Perez smiled.� �A week of relaxation and time together, no
interruptions allowed.�

�Lovely,� Don said.

�So, first step,� Perez said, �is to give up your electronic
leashes.�

They nodded and handed over their cellphones.�

Perez said with firm cheerfulness, like he expected
resistance, �And to make sure you don�t go sneak off to check your voicemail,
your car keys.�

Will fished out his keys and handed them to Perez.� He felt a small shiver of apprehension as he
saw Perez lock the phones and keys in a small safe under the front desk.

Perez picked up the key-cards to their room and led them out
the back door, onto a wide veranda.�
Chatting about the amenities, Perez walked along a winding sidewalk, Don
and Will following behind.

Breathing deeply, Will looked around at the green gardens,
small pools and fountains, beautiful flowers and bushy alcoves.� Forty-eight
hours, Will reminded himself and let the relaxation flow into him.
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Undercover