All Disclaimers Apply


Josiah grinned, knowing good and well that he and the rest of his team would be buying a lot of beers at the saloon if and when they made it out of the god forsaken mess they were currently in. "You can count on it, Captain. The Magnificent Seven always pay their debts."

****************

"If I recall correctly, that is 5,465 dollars that you now owe me, short stuff." Buck Wilmington picked up the coin that he and JD had been tossing and winked at the younger man. "But, we'll just call it even if you pick up laundry duty for the next month and clean the bathroom upstairs."

"A month of washing your shorts and socks," JD groaned. " And going into your own version of Denver's landfill. I don't think so, Buck. I'd rather pay the money. How 'bout double or nothin'?"

"Sounds like you two have an interesting home life?" LJ smiled at the two bantering men, before reaching over to check the bandage on JD's shoulder.

"Interesting is not quite the word I would have chosen," Ezra replied, lazily from his reclined position beside of Vin.

"No, I'm sure you would have said something like 'highly captivating' or 'immensely stimulating'." Victor pronounced each word with more of an exaggerated southern accent. "Interesting is much too 'common' for someone of your stature."

Trayven opened one eye and glanced at his partner. It wasn't usually Boone's style to cop an attitude, but again he'd learned in the three years that they'd been partners to always expect the unexpected. At least growing up the way that he had prepared him for something.

"Actually," Standish drawled as if he hadn't heard the sarcasm in Victor's voice, "if I was going to describe the bachelor's retreat that my friends pass off as a domicile, I'd never use the words stimulating or captivating. Repulsive or abhorrent would be much more appropriate."

"That's our home your talking about, Ez," Buck shot a mock look of disgust in the southerner direction. "We work really hard to make it looked lived in."

JD was focusing on the exchange between his friends but still flinched when Lawrence dabbed at the wound on his shoulder with a wet cloth.

"Perhaps you should concern yourselves with making it look livable, instead of sufficiently occupied."

Buck grinned down at JD and squeezed his good arm when the doctor finished up and replaced the dressing. "What do you think, kid? Should we rethink our housekeeping strategies?"

Dunne forced the smile that he knew Buck needed. "I think Ez is full of crap, Buck."

"I'd say that was a fair diagnosis." Vin surprised them all by adding his two-cents worth. The sharpshooter had been in and out of consciousness for the last half hour. "Considering the constant line of bull he keeps on the tip of his tongue."

"Sounds like someone I know," Tray spoke up, ignoring the glare that Victor shot him.

"At least I know when to keep my mouth shut." Boone rolled his eyes when the doctor dabbed at the cut on Trayven's lip, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the young detective.

"Now that's a trick I wouldn't mind seeing you perform, young man." Lawrence's unexpected comment had Buck and Tray laughing. The incredulous look on Boone's face made it worse and soon the room was filled with a lighter atmosphere.

Unfortunately, that didn't sit well with Billy Sage, who yet again found it necessary to stir up trouble. "Hey Quinn," he called to his boss who was sitting at one of the tables with two of the other armed men. "If these people are having such a good time, maybe we don't need to let them paramedics in, after all."

"Listen, you little shit." Wilmington started to get up, but JD had a death grip on his wrist.

"Buck, don't."

Lawrence gave the mustached, ATF agent a disapproving glance before being the one to stand up. He faced the freckled-face kid and sighed. "Look, son. I'm working under the only conditions I've been granted, but these men need medicine and more supplies than I have on hand. I'm making do," LJ willed his voice to remain calm. "Besides, haven't you heard that laughter is the best medicine?"

"Leave them alone, Billy," Quinn's voice left no room for disobeying. "Malcom won't like you disrespecting his old man."

Billy started to reply but an excited voice from the door changed his mind. "They're coming, Josh. Four paramedics with some boxes of equipment."

"Meyers, go help Sanders guard those people in the back. I don't want any surprises." Harris stood and nodded for his other men to follow him. "Keep them covered until we can search them."

"Yes sir." Meyers unlocked the door and kept himself out of a view as he pushed the door open.

Wordlessly, the four medics filed into the restaurant under the watchful eye of Josh Quinn. "Drop your things and get your hands in the air. All of you. Now."

Chris Larabee put down the med box he was holding and slowly lifted his arms above his head. He watched as Ethan followed his lead along with the two legitimate paramedics John and Roy.

Chris had to admit that Buck and JD did a better job than he imagined at covering their reactions to his entrance. Not always the ones to control their emotions, he was pleased when both avoided his gaze completely. Ezra couldn't have looked more subdued, and Vin, well, Vin had yet to move since he entered.

"Now this is how it's going to be boys," Quinn talked as his other men patted the medics down, "you can attend to the wounded, keep them from bleeding to death on this nice clean floor, and then report back to the boys in blue. I'll give you exactly 15 minutes to do it in."

"That's not much time," Roy, the blond medic, spoke up. The man had been a paramedic for over fifteen years, and had seen his share of bad things. He wasn't about to be intimidated by the likes of Quinn. "It'd be easier if you'd just let us take the wounded out with us. Then we could get them moved to a hospital."

"Not happening." Josh laughed. "Now get moving before you waste any more of your precious time. You get ten minutes, now."

Roy started to say more, but the slight nudge from Larabee and the threat of shortening the time that they had left with the patients kept him from it.

"We'll take these two," John nodded towards JD and Trayven. "You and Chris take the other. He looks like he's in pretty bad shape."

Freeman's men had thoroughly went through each of the containers that the medical team had brought in and allowed the paramedics to retrieve them.

Ethan picked up his gear and went to Tray, leaving JD to John's expert care. "Are you all right, sir?" He knelt beside his brother and tried not to look overly concerned at the state the older man was in. "What happened to your head?"

The SWAT team member gently reached out and began removing the bloodied bandage from around Tray's head.

Boone and his injured partner exchanged very confused glances before the wounded detective attempted a reply. "I got pushed into the bar."

Ethan didn't even blink, but his dark eyes seemed to grow colder. "And your face?"

"He pushed someone else into the bar." Boone answered this time. "But it didn't look that great to begin with."

Ethan had to fight back the smile that threatened to part his lips as the insult registered on Trayven's face. "It's lucky you have such a hard head, I don't think anything's broken."

"How would you know?" Tray said softly, flinching away from his brother's probing. "You get a medical degree since yesterday?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Tray rolled his eyes, frustrated that the one person in the world he did not want to see in harm's way had just entered an extremely dangerous situation. "Two."

Ethan nodded and reached into his box and removed some antiseptic and fresh bandages. "Hold these, please." He handed the packs of gauze to Boone and then began applying the medicine to Tray's wounds.

"What the hell are you doing here," Tray whispered when Ethan leaned in closer to attend to the cut on his cheek.

"Working." Ethan carefully applied a small butterfly strip to the gash, and continued on to the next wound. "I always wanted to be a doctor, remember?"

"No," Tray shook his head, "that was me, who wanted to play doctor with Sally Moore that lived down the street. Remember?"

Ethan met and held his brother's gaze. "We're going to get you all out of here. Just be ready when they make the exchange."

"What do you mean we?" Tray tried to move away as Ethan ran his hand up the injured side his brother was still holding. "I knew Santos wouldn't let you anywhere near this situation." Despite the detective's attempts to be very quiet, Sage had heard his whispers.

"No small talk, Mackalister."

Both Trayven and Ethan looked up at the man standing beside them. "He has to answer my questions so I can assess his condition." Ethan covered.

"This one will talk your head off, dude, if you let him." Billy grinned at Ethan. "Shame you have to go and mess up all that hard work I did on him."

The SWAT member returned back to his task, but not before memorizing every detail of Billy Sage. Ethan planned on a clean up project of his own when this thing was over.

"So, is he going to be all right?" Victor asked, hoping to break the tension he could feel building in the already electrically charged room.

Ethan glanced in the detective's direction as Billy sauntered over to see what John was doing with JD. "He better be."

"Right," Victor sighed. It wasn't the first time he'd been the recipient of one of Ethan's subtle warnings. The man had that look on his face now. The one that said 'if he doesn't make it, then neither will you. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Ethan was the younger brother, and that Boone, himself, had been placed in a position to watch out for Tray when the darker Mackalister wasn't around to play protector.'

"Ethan, I need you over here." John's voice sounded urgent and the SWAT member quickly gathered his things together.

"Take it easy, and try not to move around too much." Ethan turned back to Tray. "You could have some cracked ribs, I'm not sure."

"Is that it? No other doctor's orders?"

Ethan gave his brother a disgusted look. "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning." When Tray merely gave him his usual sideways grin, Ethan reached out and grabbed his wrist, giving it a slight squeeze. "And don't get dead. Understand me?"

Tray nodded. "You bet."

The SWAT officer reluctantly let go of his brother and moved on to where JD was being treated.

"What can I do?" Ethan looked from Johnny to the young man.

"I need you to get me an IV and some morphine from the drug box."

Mackalister nodded and moved to get what the paramedic had requested. Johnny turned back to his patient. "Looks like the doctor did a good job of taking care of you, Mr. Dunne."

"JD," the agent replied. "Mr. Dunne makes me sound as old as Buck here."

"Now don't go gettin' sassy, son. I'll have them knock you out for a while." Wilmington replied around grin. He'd been holding his breath nearly the whole time the paramedic had been checking over his best friend.

"I don't think I'd mind being out." JD said tiredly.

"Are you in a lot of pain, JD?" Johnny asked. "Does it hurt anywhere besides your shoulder and collar bone?"

"He was complaining about his back hurting." Buck turned anxious eyes on the medic.

Ethan returned and handed the supplies to Johnny. "Where about is the pain?"

"Below my shoulder blade, on my right side."

Johnny's eyebrows furrowed for a moment then he nodded. "The bullet could have ricocheted off the collar bone and lodged in the latisimus muscle."

"That doesn't sound good." JD looked up at Buck. "Does it?"

"Hell, kid, I don't even no where a latisimus is." Wilmington squeezed the younger agent's arm.

"The muscle lining each side of your back." Ethan looked at JD. "You know, like when you do a lat pull at the gym."

Understanding shown in the hazel eyes and he nodded slightly. "Not near my spine."

"No," Ethan answered, not really knowing if he was giving a truthful answer or not. But he did know what the young man was getting at, and giving him one less thing to worry about could only help to improve his condition. "Probably closer to your ribs."

"That could explain why it hurts when I breathe." JD offered a slight smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." Ethan turned to Buck as Johnny started JD's IV. "Are you Wilmington?" he asked softly.

Buck nodded, his eyes momentarily glancing in Chris's direction. He'd been more than surprised to see his old friend saunter in with the other paramedics. "Are you a real paramedic?"

"As real as your boss." Ethan handed Johnny a piece of tape to use on the lead in. "The name's Mackalister."

"Like Tray?" JD was trying hard to ignore what the paramedic was doing. This new bit of information was at least giving him something to hold on to. Chris had a plan. He had to have. They were going to get out of this after all.

Ethan nodded. "When I claim him."

"Who thought of this crazy plan?" Buck asked.

"Does it matter?" Ethan shrugged.

Wilmington sighed. "Damn."

"Just be ready when the exchange takes place. We don't have much more time."

"JD," Johnny spoke up again, "I'm going to give you something to help with the pain. It's not enough to put you out, but it should help."

"Thanks." Buck answered for his friend.

********************

Ezra had moved out of the way as soon as he saw Chris heading in their direction. Their leader took up the southerner's vacant spot at their partner's side and placed a hand on his best friend's forehead. He frowned at the cold clamminess he felt there.

"He's in the early stages of shock." An unfamiliar gentleman pointed out. Along with his rumpled suit and tie, the man was wearing a stethoscope, and Chris had the uneasy feeling that he recognized right away that Chris wasn't what or who he was pretending to be.

"This is Dr. Freeman." Ezra locked gazes with Larabee. "He's been kind enough to offer us assistance under these dire circumstances."

"Before you waste your breath, he's my son." Dark eyes met green ones. "And I recognize you from court. You're the legendary Chris Larabee. The man responsible for bringing Malcom in."

To his credit, the man kept his voice low, but he didn't seem pleased with the recent turn of events. "This man needs a real physician, not some hot shot cop playing at being a hero."

"Chris?" Blue eyes fluttered open and a disbelieving smile crossed Vin's face. "I thought I heard you."

To Freeman and Roy, Vin's comment might have sounded strange. After all, Larabee hadn't even spoken one word, but Ezra understood what his partner meant perfectly. Vin didn't need to hear Larabee. He could feel his presence.

Standish pulled his gaze from Tanner and looked at the doctor. "I hate to disagree with your diagnosis, sir, but I believe this is just what Vin needs."

"Hey, cowboy," Chris quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of Freeman's men could hear them. "What happened to that burger you owed me?"

Vin's smile grew and he struggled to answer. "I figured you'd get hungry and come looking for some food sooner or later."

Malcom's father looked somewhat surprised at not only the reaction Chris received from his patient, but also shocked at the depth of sentiment and compassion in the legendary Larabee's expression. Still, he quickly slipped back into his physician's facade.

"He needs a hospital and a surgeon. Warm fuzzies are not going to stop that bleeding in his belly."

Roy, who had been busy taking Vin's vitals and starting an IV glanced up at the doctor's words. "You think we have internal bleeding?"

Freeman nodded. "The abdomen area is rigid and he's been in a great deal of pain. I believe the bullet nicked either the liver or the bowel when it passed through." LJ rubbed at his eyes. "Hell, its no telling what kind of damage we're talking about."

"But he's going to be okay? Right?" The pleading look on Chris' face yet again caught Freeman by surprise and he once more berated himself for raising a son who could cause such pain.

LJ glanced down at Vin, who'd seemingly slipped into unconsciousness again, although he still maintained a grip on Larabee's hand. "If he gets proper attention. Soon."

Chris looked from Freeman to Roy. The paramedic nodded his agreement with the doctor's assessment. "I can set up the IV to combat the shock, and the bleeding is pretty well under control, but he needs a surgeon."

Larabee glanced to Ezra. With a silent look the southerner had resumed his position at Vin's side and watched as Chris stood and walked purposively towards Quinn.

"Shit!" Buck whispered and Ethan glanced up from helping John in time to notice the deadly look on Larabee's face as he passed by them.

"Fuck." The SWAT officer started to stand also but a hand clasped hold of his wrist.

"Be cool, brother." It was Victor. His dark eyes met Ethan's. "If dinner's ruined, we've got dessert." Boone hitched his chin over his shoulder in Tray's direction.

The younger Mackalister looked past the broad-shouldered detective to meet his brother's gaze. Tray glanced down at his own hand that was tucked underneath his leather jacket, and holding a small .38.

Ethan instantly recognized it as the back-up that Tray carried in his ankle holster. Had Freeman's men been dumb enough to miss something so obvious?

With another thought, the SWAT officer looked back up at Tray and wondered if his brother was actually dumb enough to take on five heavily armed men with a Saturday Night Special.

The hint of that crooked grin plastered on the older man's face was the only answer he needed.

He was more than stupid enough.

With a very bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, Ethan turned back to Buck.
"Larabee better know what the hell he's doing."

Chris ignored anybody and everybody except Josh Quinn as he strode through the cafe. "We need to get these men to the hospital, NOW."

Quinn had suspected that this one would cause a problem the minute he walked through the door. "Look, Dr. Suess, I told you before, they're not leaving. You can see what wonderful miracles you might be able to pull off, but that's it. Got it?" Josh poked his finger in Larabee's chest, surprised when the man didn't even move.

"Yeah, I got it, but these men dying isn't gonna help your case any." Chris was slowly losing his cool and he knew it. If he didn't get out of there soon, they would probably have one hell of a blood bath on their hands. He kept Quinn's gaze locked with his long enough that the other man was the first to look away.

"You got 2 minutes." Josh turned his back on the ATF leader and quickly lit a cigarette.

Larabee composed himself, hoping to make his anger that of a medical professional who's job was hindered, rather than a man who's family was in jeopardy. He returned to the space at Vin's side refusing to look at any of his men until he had his emotions in check.

Finally, he glanced to LJ, noticing the medallion hanging from his neck. He nodded towards it, "can I borrow that?"

Freeman gave the agent a quizzical look as he reached for the gold chain around his neck. "All right, but can I ask why?" He handed the necklace to Larabee but wouldn't release it until he heard an explanation.

"I want to use it as sort of an insurance policy for the demands." Chris hoped the older man wouldn't make him explain further, because he was still unsure of the complete plan himself.

Lawrence nodded and let the piece of jewelry go, returning his attention back to the paramedics who were finishing up.

"We've done all we can here." Roy quickly packed up the medical supplies, glancing at his partner to confirm he too was finished.

Part 5