SATURDAY the 7th
He studied the pictures spread out on the table. Which one? The boy? The black agent? Finally he chose two pictures and picked one up in each hand. The big agent with the laughing eyes, who fancied himself a lady's man or the long haired sharpshooter? Which one?
FRIDAY the 13th
Every move you make
Every step you take I'll be watching you Vin held the little card in his hand, scrutinizing it. There was no signature, the words were typed. He was trying to figure out who he was going to have to kill. Hell, all the practical jokes he'd pulled on them, it could be any of the team.
Finally, Vin stood up and asked out loud, "OK, which of you guys left these here?" He pointed to the large bunch of wildflowers on his desk.
"Whatcha got there?" JD's curiosity was immediately up.
"Well boy, you got a lady friend you been keepin' a secret?" Buck's jovial voice rang out, as he plopped down on a corner of Vin's desk, and snatched the card out of his hand.
Tanner glared at him, and tried to snatch the card back, but Buck's longer arms easily kept the card out of reach.
Ezra came around behind Buck, and took the card out of both Buck and Vin's reach. Seeing the flowers, Ezra observed, "Mr. Tanner, it would appear, that you have an undeclared devotee."
"Huh?" JD asked, befuddled, as usual by Ezra's vocabulary.
"He's got a secret admirer, son." Josiah's smile and the big hand on his shoulder kept his words from being condescending.
"Cool!" JD exclaimed.
"Boy, you're just too danged pretty for your own good." Buck laughed.
Vin was blushing furiously, as the last two members of the team entered the ATF office. "Looks like Vin's got himself a situation." Nathan pointed to the group gathered around the crimson sharpshooter.
"We'd better go rescue him, before he shoots someone." Chris smiled. "What's going on?" He called, loud enough to cause the group to turn towards him.
"Vin's got himself a secret admirer, Chris!" JD crowed.
Tanner said nothing, but his crimson color deepened with every word JD said.
"The lad is exuberant, but quite correct." Ezra handed the card to Chris, who read it silently and handed it to Nathan. Nathan knew how embarrassing Vin was finding all of this, and kept any comments he might have had to himself.
Chris could also see how uncomfortable Vin was and decided to rescue him. His face was stoic as he demanded, "Ain't you boys got any work to do?"
Instantly, the boisterous air was gone, and the agents were all business again. Nathan went to his desk. He knew Vin would be too embarrassed to talk about this right now, and that the others would fill him in later.
"You got any idea who sent this?" Chris held out the card, as he eyed the flowers on Vin's desk.
"No." Vin shrugged, "I guess somebody'll own up, soon enough." Blue eyes met green and the two men nodded in that unspoken way of communicating they had.
"Kinda pretty." Chris commented offhandedly, as he picked up the paper wrapped bunch and smelled them.
"Yeah, I think I'll give 'em to the girls in records. Make up to 'em a little, for all my reports they gotta fix up." Vin smiled easily at Chris. He was sensitive about his writing skills, but Chris never teased him about it.
"Might be a good idea, cowboy," Chris laughed, as he made his way to his own office. Christ, he thought, Vin was giving them one more reason to moon over him, and he didn't even know it.
Vin had no idea who could have sent the flowers. He thought maybe Juanita because he'd for helping to fix her leaky faucet. Nah, he thought, she couldn't afford a plumber let alone flowers. It had to be one of the guys. If it were, he would figure it out soon enough. He walked to his desk, picked up the flowers and headed for the door.
"Hey, Pard, where ya going?" Buck called, as he spotted Vin heading towards the elevators, flowers in hand.
"Goin' to give these to the girls in records," he answered. "They'll appreciate them more than I will."
"Wait up, I'll walk down with you. They keep calling me for these files so now's as good a time as any to bring them back."
As soon as they were out the door, Buck was flirting with every woman in the outer offices. Vin just shook his head. Buck made it look so easy. Stepping into the elevator he punched the key for the basement trying to ignore Buck's tales of his latest conquest. Vin made it a point to stay out of the basement, unless it was absolutely necessary. There were no windows, and it always felt like the place was closing in on him. As they made their way down the long hall to Records, Tanner focused his attention on the floor, and off the oppressive feeling of the florescently lit corridor; following as Buck pushed open the door to their destination.
"Well, howdy, Mrs. Franklin," Buck said, laying on the charm. "You're as pretty as a picture today."
"Why thank you, Agent Wilmington," she smiled.
"It's Buck, remember?"
"Oh, she remembers alright," laughed another voice. A pretty brunette walked out from the back. "We're just immune to slick talk."
"You wound me," said Buck clutching his heart. "I don't use slick talk. You must be thinking of Ezra."
"Is there something you wanted down here, Agent Wilmington?" asked Linda Franklin.
"I just brought back the files you've been asking for so nicely."
"Uh huh," chided Terri Simpson. "You probably only kept them this long, because you wanted us to call you."
"How'd you guess?" Buck looked crestfallen at being caught so easily. He looked so pathetic when he handed her the files that Terri couldn't help but laugh. Buck immediately smiled at her, and she shook her head ruefully.
"You're incorrigible." She laughed.
Buck shook his head affirmatively and laughed with her.
Vin had been standing so quietly that he'd gone unnoticed by the two women. There was a subtle, but immediate change in their body language when they noticed the shy agent standing behind Buck.
"Agent Tanner, is that you standing back there?" Linda asked, smiling sweetly at him.
"Yes ma'am," he said, moving to stand beside Buck, who was leaning on the counter.
"What brings you down here?" she asked.
"I thought you and Miss Simpson might like these flowers," he answered, holding up the bouquet.
"Oh, they're wonderful!" she exclaimed as she took them from him.
"That was so thoughtful of you Vin," Terri said, giving him a pretty smile, as she smelled the flowers. She looked at him over the bouquet, her expression amounting to a subtle pass. Unfortunately for Terri, Vin was the only one who didn't seem to realize it. Undaunted, she tried a more forward approach. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Yes ma'am. Me and the boys are going over to Inez's for some drinks," he replied "If y'all will excuse me, I have to get back to work. I'm glad y'all liked the flowers," he added, shyly.
Buck just shook his head as he watched Vin walk out the door. He said good-bye to the women and followed Tanner. He could see that Vin had completely won their hearts and he didn't even know it. He caught up with the man at the elevator.
"I think Miss Simpson likes you," commented Buck.
"Me?" asked Vin. "I saw the way she was looking at you. Nah, she don't like me."
They got into the elevator and hit the button for the 11th floor. When the elevator stopped at the lobby and more passengers stepped on, Vin wedged himself into the corner, so that people couldn't surround him. Buck recognized a couple of women from Ballistics and couldn't help but notice the glances they were giving Vin, until the elevator stopped on the 7th floor and they stepped out of the car. Buck shook his head sadly. What a waste, he thought, all those women eyeing him, and the boy doesn't even notice. When the elevator finally opened to their floor, they moved out and Vin went straight back to the office. Spying Chris coming out of the break room, Buck walked over to him.
"I don't know, Chris. If that boy ever decides to wake up, and notice the women in this building we might be in trouble."
"Let me guess. Linda and Terri were thrilled with the flowers."
"Oh, they liked 'em alright," Buck smiled. "Terri asked if he had any plans for this evening and the boy didn't get the hint. Maybe I should tell her to hit him over the head and drag him out."
"Just leave it be Buck," warned Chris.
"Don't worry I won't do anything," he said, as they walked back to the office.
Chris went to his office but stopped before entering. He glanced over at Vin who was staring off into space. Chris knew his friend was wracking his brains, trying to figure out who had sent those flowers. Larabee also knew that he wouldn't get any more work out of the young agent today. Not until he solved his little mystery. It didn't really matter since they only had another hour left in the workday. Chris continued into his office and went back to the report he was reading.
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"Come on, let's go!" called JD.
"Keep your shirt on, kid, we're coming," scolded Buck.
JD watched as the rest of the team shut off computers or filed a last minute report. It was Friday and easily counted as JD's favorite day. It had become a ritual for them to head down to the ‘saloon', as they referred to it, and spend the evening together unwinding.
Chris came out of his office to see an impatient JD spinning in his chair. Josiah and Nathan were locking their file cabinets. Ezra was straightening the files on his desk and Buck was teasing the kid. He glanced at Vin and saw him rummaging in his desk.
"Lose something, cowboy?" Larabee asked as he walked over.
"Nope," Vin smiled as he held up his car keys and shut the drawer.
When the last folder had been filed away and computer shutdown, they headed for the elevator. Exited at the garage, each heading for their respective vehicles. Vin stopped to pet Cuervo good-night before heading to his Jeep. The cat merely accepted the courtesy as his due.
"Welcome, senors." Inez said in her softly accented English when she spied the boisterous group heading through the front doors of the bar. "The usual?"
"As always, my dear," said Ezra as he slipped into a chair by a corner table. "Mr. Dunne has been gracious enough to offer remuneration for our refreshments.
"Hey!" protested JD.
"That's for rushing me out of the office," smiled Ezra.
Inez delivered their drinks before moving off to serve other customers. The Seven enjoyed their Friday night, playing cards and swapping tall tales. When Inez brought them another round of drinks, she paused beside Vin's chair.
"Senor Vin, someone left you this note," she said, handing it to him.
"Thanks, Inez." He smiled as he folded open the single sheet of paper.
Chris watched as Vin unfolded the small piece of paper and read it. He could see that his friend wasn't happy.
"OK, which one of you sent this?" Vin demanded, looking up from the note to glare around the table at the other six men.
"Let me see," Ezra said relieving Vin of the note. He scanned it quickly before reading it aloud.
"Let me take you for a rainbow ride. There's no excuse, not to relax and get loose. It's been a long hard day, but now it's time to play. Let me take you for a rainbow ride." Ezra raised his eyebrows at the secret admirer's odd poetry. "Well, it certainly isn't Yates."
"Nah, it's Charlie Daniels." Vin informed them. "Somebody changed the words a little, but that's definitely Charlie."
"Inez, who left this note?" Chris reached out and caught the young barmaid's arm as she passed by the table.
"I do not know, Senor Chris. I just found it on the bar a few minutes ago."
Chris took the note from Ezra. It was typed on plain white paper. He was guessing that there would only be four set of fingerprints if they tested it. He had to admit, whichever one of the guys was pulling this joke, it was a good one.
Vin probably deserved it after some of the jokes he'd pulled on the others. Chris just hoped the prankster didn't take it too far. Chris listened as Vin's questions were met with a chorus of "I didn't send them" and innocent looks. Larabee smiled, if he knew Vin, the jokester was going to be paid back ten-fold.
MONDAY 16th
"GOD! Vin! Why the hell don't you let somebody else make the coffee!" Buck bellowed, grimacing. He hastily added more cream and sugar to his cup grumbling all the way back to his desk.Vin's coffee was notoriously strong or blacker than the hinges of hell, as Josiah would say. He and Tanner had made a game of being the first one in the office so he could make it. Josiah usually beat him, but occasionally Vin would make it there first. The two would then share a laugh at the expense of whichever one of the other five who happened to drink Vin's coffee unknowingly.
The other five men had made a pact between themselves. The unlucky victim would announce to the others on sight that Vin had made the coffee. And while Josiah would occasionally forego his Yerba Mate tea for some of the strong brew, usually Vin would end up finishing off the rest of his pot by himself.
Vin laughed at Buck's mumbled tirade and went back to his computer. Served him right, he thought. Forlorn love-letters and flowers would be Buck's idea of a great practical joke.
A few hours later, he stretched and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. With mug in hand, Vin sat back down and began rummaging in the top drawer of his desk for a note pad. His hand brushed against something odd. With a feeling of foreboding, Vin put his coffee down and pulled the drawer almost completely out of the desk.
"Damn!" Vin cursed loudly enough for the others to hear as he pulled the pink heart shaped box out of the drawer.
Five heads popped up from their desks when they heard the young agent's curse. Chris's door remained shut. JD couldn't contain his curiosity, and immediately made his way over to Vin's desk. That broke the dam, and the other four abandoned their desks, and joined Tanner and Dunne.
"Hey, Vin. You got another present." JD observed unnecessarily as Vin glared at them.
"You guys think this is real funny, don'tcha?" Vin's furious voice matched the looks he was giving them.
"Well, pard, you got to admit, you kinda deserve it." Buck answered jovially, ignoring his teammate's fury.
"Hey Vin, there's a note in here." JD had pulled the lid off of the box revealing 12 wrapped chocolates.
Vin glared harder as he grabbed the note out of the box and read it. Throwing it on his desk, he snatched the candy from JD and slammed it into the trash can beside his desk. He stalked out of the ATF office down the hallway towards the men's room.
The others watched him go silently. They exchanged glances and finally burst out laughing. Their voices were loud enough to penetrate Chris's closed door and the senior agent stuck his head out of his office to see what was going on. Seeing them gathered around Vin's desk, and no sign of Vin, Chris instantly realized that something must be up.
"What's going on?" He called as he walked to the loosely huddled group.
"Vin got candy, and another note." JD told him enthusiastically as he picked up the note and handed it to Chris.
"Vin ain't real happy right now, Chris." Nathan told him with a wry smile.
Chris looked at them and nodded, as he read the note aloud. "I've dreamed of this a thousand times before. But in my dreams, I couldn't love you more. I will give you my heart, until the end of time . . . You're all I need, my love, my Valentine."
"Martina McBride," Josiah offered knowingly.
"Well, at least our unseen Lothario's taste in music is improving. We can only hope that this trend continues." Ezra added, a devilish grin crossing his face. He had to admit he was enjoying this whole scenario very much. He'd been on the receiving end of some of Vin Tanner's jokes. He'd have to congratulate the perpetrator just as soon as one of the other five revealed themselves. Then, he'd have to teach Vin Tanner how to maintain a poker face. The best way to get a practical joker to stop was to fail to respond to the jokes.
"Did you send these, Ezra?" Chris asked. His voice held a warning note. He didn't like the way Vin was reacting to the messages and while they were innocent enough in nature Chris was very protective of the young agent.
"Me, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra asked, adopting his most injured innocent expression. His hand touched his chest as he stared wide-eyed at Chris. "Now, as much as I am enjoying Mr. Tanner's discomfiture, Charlie Daniels is hardly to my taste."
Buck laughed aloud as he tried to picture the elegant Southerner jamming to The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Even Chris was forced to grin and admit temporary defeat. Shaking his head at the laughing group he moved out of the room to find Vin.
TUESDAY 17th
Vin pulled up to the security gate at the Federal building and held his magnetic pass up to the scanner. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as the gate slowly rolled up. Guiding the Jeep into a parking space he cut the engine and glanced around quickly, realizing that he was the first one there. No surprise, he thought. He'd tossed and turned half the night, obsessing over this damned joke one of the boys was pulling on him. Finally, about 5:00, he gave up trying to sleep and decided to head on in to work.The young agent heard a meow and Cuervo jumped into the driver's seat that he had just eased himself from. The cat curled up into the warm upholstery purring contentedly.
"Hey, Cuervo," Vin greeted as he scratched the feline. "So, how's life treating you?"
"PRRRRow," was the only answer, as he arched against Vin's hand.
"You got any ideas who's pulling this trick on me?" Vin looked into the cat's eyes as if he half expected to see an answer there.
"Puuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr." The cat looked back at Vin, and rubbed his face against Tanner's hand.
"I don't think it could be Ezra." Vin mused absently as he continued to stroke the cat. "He don't know the difference between Charlie Daniels and Charlie Brown. Josiah just ain't got this kinda meanness in 'im. Nathan doesn't usually retaliate. It's gotta be Buck and JD. Buck keeps teasin' me about them women likin' me, and he could talk the kid into it in a heartbeat. And the kid's slick enough to think of all them songs. Yeah, it's gotta be them. Well, guess what boys?" Vin chuckled evilly, "this means war."
Vin gave Cuervo one last pet then headed for the elevator. He smiled as he thought up some things that he could do to get back at Buck and JD. At 8:00 a.m., Josiah walked into the office to find Vin already at his desk. He was typing at the computer and looked up as Sanchez walked in.
"Mornin', Josiah."
"Brother Vin," Josiah as he headed for the coffeepot. He poured some of Vin's deadly brew and took a sip. "Perfect."
"At least you appreciate good coffee," Vin smiled and went back to his typing.
Nathan was the next to arrive. Vin and Josiah were both working at their desks. None of the other guys were in the office yet. Shoot, Nathan thought to himself. I gotta be the guinea pig.
He knew from past experience that it was useless to ask Josiah or Vin who had made the coffee. They'd just laugh and tell him it was their secret and if he wanted to know he was just going to have to try it.
So, Nathan poured a small amount of coffee into his mug. Just to be safe, he added a generous amount of sugar. The minute he took his first swallow, he knew instantly who had made the coffee. "Damn Vin"! Why don'tcha just shoot us all? It's quicker than poisoning us." Nathan grumbled loudly enough for Vin and Josiah to hear.
Sanchez chuckled, and Tanner gave a small smile.
Chris was the next one in and greeted his three team members. Seeing the smile on Josiah's face and Vin's sudden interest in the floor he was instantly on alert.
"Alright, who was here first?" Chris demanded. Nathan pointed at Vin, with a grimace.
"Damn! I really needed a cup of coffee." Chris muttered as he walked to his office. Vin just smiled. A laugh heralded the arrival of Buck and JD.
"Hope you fellas ain't in the mood for coffee." Nathan warned them, pointing at Vin. "He made it."
"Dammit, Vin! That's two days this week I ain't had coffee. I ain't gonna be able to charm the ladies if you keep this up." Buck growled at the sharpshooter.
Vin just kept typing and ignoring everyone, but there was a small smile on his face.
Ezra was the last to arrive as usual. He carried a bag from the bakery around the corner. Having tasted Vin's brew once, the southerner had never trusted the coffee again.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he said as he sat at his desk.
"Mornin' Ezra," Vin called.
Buck and JD sat down at their desks and Vin hid a smile as he saw Buck trying to open the middle drawer. The drawer was stuck, and Buck yanked hard. It flew open sending feathers everywhere. The others laughed as Buck was covered in fine down feathers. JD was laughing the hardest. Buck glared at Vin, who shrugged innocently.
Chris, hearing the commotion, came from his office to see what was going on. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw Buck.
"Troubles?" he asked.
"Nothing me and Junior can't work out," Buck answered, glowering at Vin.
Chris headed back to his office and sighed. This was going to be a long day.
An hour later, JD went to get some files he had been working on from the metal cabinet that stood near his desk. When the drawer stuck, he was instantly suspicious. Getting down on the floor, he looked at the drawer from the outside. When he saw that it was only a paper clip that had gotten stuck in the tracks he relaxed. He pulled the little piece of folded metal out, and the drawer opened easily.
JD watched in amazement as a white cloud exploded around him and covered him from head to toe in flour. Buck lost it and fell out of his chair laughing.
"Vin, Vin, Vin," Josiah said shaking his head. "What are we going to do with you?"
"It would appear," commented Ezra, "that Mr. Tanner has ascertained that his tormentors are Buck and JD."
"I didn't do it!" JD cried attempting to brush the flour from his clothes. He only succeeded in smearing it into the fabric.
"Me either," Buck added.
"Uh huh," Vin said. "A secret admirer for me's just the kinda' thing you'd think was funny. And JD's got a real devious mind. He knows a lot of songs."
"Do you boys think we might get some work done, sometime today?" Chris asked in a steely voice.
They all quickly found tasks requiring their immediate attention. JD continued wiping the flour off the front of himself, while Buck brushed his back off, muttering all the while about kids with too much time on their hands.
Chris smiled and closed the door to his office.
At noon, in a break from routine, they all headed for lunch together. It was Buck's turn to pick where they went and they headed for Big Buckaroo's BBQ Beef. Ezra complained loudly that he would probably need to be hospitalized for food poisoning. At 1:00 sharp, they headed back to the office. Ezra grudgingly admitting that lunch wasn't that bad.
They rode up in the elevator with some of the secretaries giving Buck a chance to flirt with them all. The ATF team stepped out on their floor, jostling each other good-naturedly as they entered the office. Chris made a beeline for his office, when a loud curse from Vin stopped him.
He turned around to see a small sugar maple tree, tied with a red ribbon sitting on Vin's desk. On the ribbon was a heart shaped card. The entire team trooped over.
"Nice little tree, you've got there, pard," commented Chris softly.
"I bet they think so." Vin said, glaring at Buck and JD. Chris turned his gaze on them.
"Honest, Chris, I didn't send it," JD swore.
Buck's answer was just as honest, "Same here, pard."
Sighing, Vin grabbed the card, opened it and read it out loud. "I'll shake the sugar tree 'til I feel your love falling All . . . . . . . . around me You got to tend to what you planted and if you take my love for granted I'm gonna shake the sugar tree."
"Nice poem," JD commented.
Vin gave him a scowl. "Ain't a poem, JD, it's a song," Vin growled.
"Yeah, Pam Tillis," Buck supplied, ignoring the dirty look Vin gave him.
Tanner picked up the tree and threw it in the garbage. He turned his back on everyone and turned on his computer. The others exchanged looks before making their way back to their own desks.
Chris glanced at the men around him, noting the tension that seemed to permeate the air. He retired to his office thinking to himself. This joke had definitely gone far enough. It had better stop soon, or there's going to be hell to pay.
At the end of the day, while Vin was finishing a report, the rest of the Seven left the building intent on various after work errands. They didn't like leaving him alone, but they knew how sensitive he was about his writing skills. So, unless his report was urgent, whenever Vin had to stay late to finish, the others discreetly pretended not to notice.
About an hour after the others had left, Vin finally saved his file and shut down his computer. Pulling on his leather jacket he started to head out of the office when he caught sight of the little tree in the garbage. It looked so damned forlorn and unwanted. With a sigh, he picked it up.
"Ain't your fault," Vin told the little tree, feeling for all the world like he was trapped in A Charlie Brown Christmas Special. He cocked his head slightly as he looked over the foliage; for the first time noticing how pretty it really was. "I'll plant ya in the park."
THURSDAY 19th
The next morning at 7:00 a.m., the little tree bobbing pleasantly in the passenger seat, Vin pulled his Jeep into the parking lot of the Denver City Park. An hour later, with the newly planted tree waving at him in the gentle breeze, he enjoyed the quiet of the almost deserted park.Occasionally, a jogger would pass by, but other than that his only companions were the small creatures who inhabited the area.
Vin was watching a squirrel inspect the little tree, and wondering how much longer one of his friends was going to keep the joke going, when his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.
He hated the damn thing and wished like hell that Chris didn't have an iron clad rule - None of them ever went anywhere without one. Stalking back to his Jeep, he grabbed the phone. Annoyance was evident in his voice as he answered, "Tanner."
"Hello, might be nice." Chris's amused voice responded.
"Howdy, Chris. You know I hate this thing."
"Did you get your tree planted?" Chris asked. He'd been a little worried. The secret admirer seemed to be getting to Vin and Chris wanted to talk to him away from the rest of the team.
"Yeah, looks real nice. Even had a squirrel - - What the hell?" Vin dropped the phone and reached for the little square of white paper on the floor of his jeep. Leaning down, he pulled out a folded piece of plain white paper. He just knew it was another one of those damned notes. His heart pounding a little, Vin unfolded it.
I know there's no turnin' back I don't even care where we are I just wanna be inside your car You can drive me wild baby You can drive me crazy You just drive me, I don't care, With you I'll go anywhere "VIN?!? VIN?!"
"Aw hell, Vin cursed silently, as he grabbed the phone. "Uh, sorry Chris," he interrupted his friend's frantic demand to know what was wrong. "I got another one of them damned notes."
"Where are you exactly?" Chris asked urgently.
"I'm on the parking lot near the main gate of the park," Vin replied uneasily. If the note bugged Chris . . .
"I'm about fifteen minutes away. Stay put - -"
"Chris -" Vin started to tell him not to bother, but changed his mind and finished lamely, "OK, I'll wait here."
This was definitely starting to get to him. The office, the saloon, now here. He tried to remember whether or not the note was in his Jeep before he'd left the vehicle to plant the tree. He didn't see how he could have missed it, but he hadn't really been paying attention. Vin sat in the Jeep waiting for Larabee.
Suddenly, he shivered, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, as he felt like unseen eyes were watching him. The young agent looked around quickly, scanning the park. He didn't see anyone, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. But who?
Vin sighed in relief as Chris pulled into the parking space next to him.
"Hey cowboy." Chris called, as he climbed from his large truck. But his smile faded as he saw the anxious look on the younger man's face. Concern was evident in Chris's voice, "Let me see it."
"Here!" Tanner walked over to Chris's side and thrust the note at him. "I know I've pulled a lot of practical jokes on the boys, but I ain't never done nothin' that bugged none of them this bad."
Chris read the note and nodded grimly. He was going to have a little talk with the other five members of his team the minute he got back to the office.
Scrubbing his fingers through his short hair, Chris's mind was running down a list of errands he could send Vin on that would take long enough for the other six to have a meeting. Meanwhile, he had one very unhappy and distracted agent on his hands.
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Ezra was sitting at the small conference table; a myriad of accordion files, hanging folders, and notebooks spread out before him. He looked up when the door to the bullpen opened and Chris Larabee entered followed closely by Vin Tanner. They both nodded a greeting to the Southerner but moved past him without stopping.
Ezra glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past 10 a.m. Tardiness was Ezra Standish's forte, it wasn't something one normally attributed to Chris or Vin. They were usually among the first to arrive at the office. The only time Ezra saw the crack of dawn, was when he hadn't gone home the previous night. Not for the first time, Ezra wondered what the two men were plotting between them.
Vin moved away from Chris and pushed his way through the door to the break room, quietly letting the door shut behind him. Chris was torn. He made a move to follow before he stopped himself. Might be better to leave Vin alone for now. Let him try to deal with his feelings privately.
Chris turned back towards his own office. He noticed Ezra's scrutinizing gaze and he tried to turn his famous Larabee glare on the southerner but he quit when it didn't have any effect. Ezra simply raised one inquiring eyebrow at his superior. Chris shrugged mentally, rolled his eyes and moved into his office, and closed the door behind him.
"Well," Ezra muttered to himself, "That was fascinating."
He knew that Chris and Vin were keeping secrets from the rest of the team. Undoubtedly, they would tell the others when they thought it necessary. However, patience wasn't Ezra Standish's biggest virtue. He moved from his chair and walked through the empty bullpen to Larabee's office. The rest of the team was running various errands in the building. He rapped sharply on the door.
Chris's annoyed, "Come in." was all the invitation Ezra needed. He moved into the office and carefully let the door click shut.
"What is it, Ezra?" he asked in a harassed tone of voice. He leaned back in his chair and eyed Ezra critically. It didn't put the Southerner off, however.
"Has Vin discovered who has seen fit to deem him the object of their admiration?"
"Why? Do you know something?" The questions came out much harsher than Larabee had intended.
Ezra hadn't expected such a vehement response. His brow furrowed slightly before he offered a slow reply. "Nooo. Perhaps there is something you wish to share with us?"
Chris fixed the Southerner with a serious look. "You tell me if you hear anything."
Standish nodded solemnly.
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JD was so engrossed in the file on his computer screen that he hadn't heard Chris coming up behind him.
Consequently, he was startled when he felt the sudden pressure of hands on his shoulders. He nearly spilled his Pepsi all over his keyboard as he twisted to see who was behind him.
"Hey Chris," the younger agent exclaimed
The group supervisor leaned over his subordinate's shoulder to peer at the computer screen. "Song lyrics, JD?" Larabee's voice had a hard, no-nonsense tone.
The screen went blank as the kid quickly exited out of the program. Turning to face Chris, JD was surprised by the anger he saw in his boss's eyes.
"Uhhh . . . yeah, I was . . . I was just . . ." JD stammered.
The explanation was cut off by Larabee's stern order, "Everybody, my office. NOW!"
Four sets of puzzled eyes looked up to see the back of Chris Larabee disappear into his office.
Buck glanced over at his roommate and noticed the embarrassed, guilty look on JD's face. Much like that of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Pushing his chair away from his desk, the concerned agent quickly crossed to his friend. Sitting on the corner of Dunne's desk Buck leaned toward him, "What's up with Chris? He mad at you 'bout something?"
A tinge of red touched the cheeks of the younger man as his troubled eyes met those of his partner. "I don't know what's goin' on. I was just lookin' up the lyrics to that song you were butchering last night . . ."
"I was butchering?" Buck cut in, indignantly. "I think I know the words to "Lookin' Out My Back Door."
"You might know words but they sure as heck are the wrong ones."
"Now, look here, son, I was raised on Creedence. I think I know the words better than some young pup like you," Buck replied as he reached over and grabbed JD around the neck, rubbing his knuckles into his partner's scalp.
JD easily slipped out of the headlock his friend had him in and pushed himself away from the older man's grasp. Buck was pleased to see the slight smile on the younger agent's face, relieved that he was able to distract JD from whatever wrong he perceived he had done.
The respite was short-lived, however, as Larabee bellowed, "I said, NOW, gentlemen."
The five men filed into the leader's office. Nathan, Ezra, and Josiah cast questioning glances toward the remaining two, trying to discern if they knew what the sudden pow-wow was about. Buck shrugged his shoulders as he caught Ezra's eye. JD contritely kept his eyes toward the floor.
"Where's Vin?" Buck asked, as he realized that the sharpshooter was not present.
"I sent him on an errand so that we could have this little meeting," Larabee replied as he rose from his chair, his steely gaze traveling over his men.
"Is there a problem, Chris?" Josiah asked.
"Is there a problem?" the leader repeated, his tone harsh. "You bet there's a problem. I enjoy a joke as well as the next guy and I've been fairly tolerant of some of the pranks that you've pulled on each other. But, damn it, you guys have taken this secret admirer' crap too far. You've got the man wound so tight that he's liable to pound the next guy who gives him a funny look."
"When your kindergarten antics start interfering with the smooth operation of this team, the joke in no longer funny. And, gentlemen, we have reached that point. It's time for the bull shit to stop. I don't care who was behind the prank," Chris stated as he rested his eyes on JD, "but I want it to end now. If it doesn't, the instigator WILL answer to me. Do I make myself clear?"
The five team members nodded in understanding.
"All right then, get back to work."
As the men filed out of their boss's office, Buck hung back and waited for Chris to acknowledge his presence. When Larabee looked up from the papers in front of him, the seasoned agent asked, "Can you spare a minute, pard? I need to talk to you about something."
"I said I didn't care who was behind this, Buck. Let's just leave it at that."
"It's not that, Chris, I just need to explain something that you may have misunderstood."
"What?"
"When you caught JD looking at those song lyrics, it wasn't what you thought." As the leader started to speak, Buck hurriedly continued, "He was lookin' up the words to a song that he and I had an argument about last night. It had nothing to do with what's been happening to Vin. I just thought you should know."
"That it?"
"Yeah, that's it." Buck turned to leave.
"Buck?"
Wilmington stopped and glanced back at his long-time friend. "Yeah?"
"Thanks," Chris replied, his voice no longer calloused, a wry grin on his face.
"Anytime, pard." He flashed Larabee a big smile as he slowly closed the door behind him.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
In a deluxe sky box, courtesy of Rain's boss; Rain, Casey, and Team Seven, minus Chris and Vin who had a late meeting with AD Travis, watched the Rockies lose to the Dodgers. Their talk drifted invariably to recent events. Ezra filled them in on the extra-curricular activities of their two missing teammates and of the less than amused response Chris had given when Standish brought up the topic of Vin's secret admirer.
Kicked back in the living room setting of the luxury box JD grabbed a piece of popcorn from the tub that Casey held in her lap and flipped it into his mouth. "Did he get something else?"
Ezra fiddled absentmindedly with a deck of cards he had found behind the small bar, shuffling them through his slim fingers. "Nothing was mentioned, but I was under the distinct impression that something had occurred this morning."
"Maybe--"
But Buck interrupted, "No, JD."
"What?!"
"You ain't gonna ask Vin if he got anything else. It's his business."
"Who says I was gonna ask?"
The only response to his question was the poorly controlled laughter of four men and two women who knew the young agent too well.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
MONDAY the 23rd
The next day passed without incident and by Monday morning, Vin seemed to be back to his usual relaxed self. He, Chris, and Josiah, had returned from lunch, with Tanner sucking on a lollipop one of the girls behind the counter at Kyoto Teriyaki had given him.They had been back about an hour, when a young male voice interrupted Chris as he sat on the corner of Vin's desk joking quietly with his best friend.
"Agent Tanner? 'Scuse me, sir, this was left at the front desk for you."
Vin looked up to see Todd Wallace from Reception offering him a plain white envelope. Tanner took it with a smile and with no thought of the previous notes that had been left for him. He ripped one end of the envelope open and dumped his debit card out onto his desk. His mouth quirked in a disgusted grin, "Oh, that was good." He held it up for Chris to see. "Remind me to tip Becca extra next time we go for teriyaki."
Larabee shook his head and smiled, "You need someone looking after you."
Tanner raised an eyebrow, "You volunteerin'? Hell, if you do laundry, I'll take ya up on it." He picked up the envelope again and tapped out the small folded note that was in it, "I can pay ya. I have a real good job."
"With what you could afford, it would be indentured servitude."
But Vin wasn't smiling. He had opened the piece of white paper but dropped it as if it were on fire as soon as he saw the typewritten letters.
I don't care too much for money For money can't buy me love Can't buy me love Everybody tells me so Can't buy me love No, no ,no, no Chris was up and on the phone in a second, dialing the extension that would connect him with Reception. "This is Agent Chris Larabee, put Todd on . . . .You just dropped an envelope off for Agent Tanner. Who left it?! . . . Well someone must have seen, it's a goddamn Federal security building! . . . You do that! . . . No, my extension."
Larabee slammed the phone back in its cradle. He was vaguely aware of the other members of his team staring at him, but he didn't care. "I need an evidence bag."
"Think I have one," JD began rummaging in his bottom drawer, coming up with the desired clear plastic item seconds later. He held it out to Chris at arm's length, not wishing to get within the radius of the tension that emanated from his leader.
Larabee gingerly scooped the note, the debit card, and the envelope, into the bag and pulled off the protective strip before pressing the sticky seal down, securing the papers in the carrier. "JD, take this downstairs."
The young man took the bag and jogged toward the elevator, looking over his shoulder as Chris called out orders. "Tell 'em I want everything on it . . . latent print, ink, fiber . . . I wanna know what forest the tree for the damned paper came from!"
Vin was just getting off the phone himself, "Talked to Mao Yin, she thought I took the card, Becca thought the same thing. Neither one of them remembers anyone around while I was at the counter," he said quietly and flopped down into his chair. Only the pencil he was repeatedly stabbing the blotter on his desk with, gave away his anxiety.
Larabee looked around at his grim faced team members. This had clearly gone beyond a joke and the rest of the team was now as determined as Vin to identify the secret admirer. Secret admirer my ass, the senior agent thought. This a damn stalker! "Buck," the senior agent motioned the lady's man over.
"Yeah Chris?" Buck was at his side in seconds.
Chris spoke softly, so that Wilmington was the only one who could hear. "I think Vin needs some down time. I'm gonna take him home. Make sure he's OK. Let me know if you find anything out."
"Sure pard," Buck agreed, just as quietly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of Junior and we'll see what we can find out."
They shared a look and then Chris turned to the Texan. "C'mon cowboy, we're gonna knock off early."
Vin looked at him and then shrugged and grabbed his jacket. He was halfway to the door, and didn't notice the concerned looks the rest of the team exchanged. Vin Tanner giving in graciously worried them all.
THURSDAY the 26th
The ATF bullpen had been especially quiet the past few days. Vin, on the other hand, had been getting more agitated each day, when he walked into the office, not knowing what to expect. Chris and Vin walked into office together. Chris had suggested that Vin allow one of them to pick him up for work until the stalker was identified and he'd uncharacteristically agreed.The entire team, including the notoriously late Ezra, were already there. Chris headed to his office and Vin headed for the coffee pot, when the door opened again and Todd Wilson stood there holding a thin 8 ½ by 11 inch manilla envelope. "Agent Tanner, got a delivery for you," he said and took an instinctive step backward, when seven men advanced on him.
Vin glanced at the men around him seeing the wariness he felt in their eyes. Reluctantly, he began reaching for the object, but Chris's swift reflexes stopped him midway.
"Let me check it first." Larabee's voice held no room for an objection as he maneuvered himself in front of the sharpshooter.
Vin stood and glanced over his leader's shoulder, partially grateful for his protectiveness, but also a little perturbed at his quick acceptance of it.
Chris checked the outside of the envelope, carefully for any sign of tampering or something that shouldn't be there. It seemed sort of ridiculous. After all, the envelope wasn't thick enough to be threatening, but they weren't taking any chances. He slid a letter opener under the corner and slit the flap open. Larabee dumped the contents onto the nearest desk. He heard Tanner gasp behind him, when picture after picture of the sharpshooter clad only in his boxers, and practicing his kata in his living room, fell onto the desk.
A folded white paper, identical to all of the others fell out and Chris picked it up by a corner and shook it until it opened. He let it flutter to the desk and every man in the room strained to read the words.
Summer skies and lullabies Nights we couldn't say good-bye And of all of the things that we knew Not a dream survived Photographs and memories All the love you gave to me Somehow it just can't be true That's all I've left of you
The sharpshooter felt his heart stop and his blood run cold. The verdict was in, this was no ordinary fascination, but a frightening obsession with the potential for deadly.
"Damn!" Buck's strained yelp brought the two men back to reality as Larabee began barking orders.
"Todd, who the hell delivered this? Josiah, get this stuff to the lab, ASAP!"
Chris had never felt such intense anger as now, which proceeded to double as he caught the ashen features of his best friend. "Don't worry, cowboy. We'll find out what the hell's going on, one way or another." He laid his hands on the shaken agent's shoulders.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ezra stared at the computer screen before him. Ostensibly, he was supposed to be finishing his monthly reports, but he couldn't shake the thought that worried at his mind. The music. There was a clue in the music. Not in the appropriateness of the lyric, but in the songs themselves. But what? It danced at the edge of his awareness but try as he might he wasn't able to grasp it. With a frustrated sigh, Ezra shoved his desk chair back, grabbed his coffee mug and wandered into the break room.
Since the coffee in the pot hadn't quite taken on the consistency of Carolina mud, Ezra poured himself a cup. Leaning against the counter behind him, he stared over the rim of the coffee cup. Seeing nothing.
Sting, Martina McBride, Pam Tillis, The Beatles, Jim Croce . . . A rather esoteric collection of music if you asked him. Classic rock, country, pop. Seemingly, the songs had nothing in common. Yet, there had to be a link. Ezra took another sip of the coffee, grimacing at the bitter flavor. What was it? People's tastes in music didn't generally cover that wide a range of musical styles. Well, his tastes didn't. Lord knows, what kind of music this crew would indulge in at any given time. He'd been subjected to the lot of it. Another mindless sip as Ezra's mind perused the riddle.
"Hey, Ezra?" Softly.
There was no response.
"Ezra?" A hand waved in front of his face.
The insistent voice was louder. With a start, the southerner jerked out of his reverie very nearly spilling black sludge coffee down the front of his green silk shirt.
"Careful there, Ez," Buck suggested as he steadied Ezra's hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra replied and picked up a napkin to clean the coffee that had slopped over the top of the cup, off of his hand.
"What sort of person has such a varied interest in music?" the southerner mused aloud.
"I don't know, Ez," Buck answered without looking up from the coffee he was pouring. Buck brought the full cup up to his face. He sniffed the aroma with an appreciative smile before taking a sip.
"Mmm, that's good stuff."
Standish watched the man with a raised eyebrow. Leave it to Buck to turn the simple act of drinking coffee into something akin to a sexual experience. It reminded him of Buck's behavior at the poker party at Vin's last month . . .
Poker party at Vin's . . .
"I knew it!" Ezra suddenly declared.
"Knew what? Who?" Buck asked, abandoning the coffee.
"It's been under our noses the whole time," Ezra responded excitedly. "Let's go tell the others," he suggested and headed for the bullpen.
"Wait a minute," Buck called and hurried after him. "You didn't tell me yet," he finished.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ezra stood in the open doorway of Chris's office and announced loud enough for everyone to hear. "Gentlemen, I believe I've solved our mystery."
"You know who's been sendin' me this stuff?" Vin asked enthusiastically, as he sat up straight in the chair across from Chris's desk.
"No," Ezra admitted reluctantly. He licked his lips and took a deep breath
before continuing. "But I do know where he got his musical inspirations," he added smugly.
"You wanta share, Ezra?" Nathan suggested from the doorway, where the other four men had gathered.
"It's a rather unusual collection of songs, you must admit." What we have here is someone who is familiar with vintage rock, pop, country, southern rock. I dare say the list goes on." Ezra paused for effect before continuing. "Clearly, our stalker has an extensive CD collection with a rather broad range in styles. Does it sound like anyone we know?"
Puzzled glances were shared between the six men.
"Out with it, Ezra." Larabee's voice was strained.
"I was reminded of the last poker party at Vin's . . ."
"Ezra, I don't have time . . ."
Ezra stopped Chris's tirade with a gesture. "Patience, Mr. Larabee. I met with a rather unfortunate run of bad luck and was forced out of the game early. I spent the time between hands perusing Vin's cd collection. Vin's rather extensive cd collection . . ." The southerner trailed off as his words sank in.
"Son of a bitch."
Chris's oath was the only sound in the room.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Vin didn't like it. Not one bit. He knew Chris was doing it to protect him but it didn't mean he had to like it. When Ezra had pointed out the stalker was using lyrics from CD's in Vin collection, Chris had been furious. He had told Vin that he was staying at the ranch. Vin had protested that he could take care of himself. It had quickly escalated towards a full blown argument until Josiah intervened. He had quickly convinced Vin it was for the best. It still didn't mean Vin had to like it though.
Chris drove Vin over to his apartment to pack. Moving from the parked truck to the front door of the building, Vin was stopped by a bunch of "his kids". Clamoring for his attention, they began filling him in on all the news and gossip of the neighborhood. Chris just shook his head and smiled. Vin had done wonders with his small corner of Purgatorio. Drugs and gang wars were almost nonexistent on the street corner surrounding Vin's building. Vin finally disengaged himself from the children from the children and they headed for the elevator.
"Don't bother, Senor Vin," Carlita said as she saw them walk by her perch on the bottom steps of the building's stairs. "The elevator is out again."
Looked like another talk with the landlord was in order, Vin thought as he turned and headed up the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he was several yards ahead of Chris. He didn't pause to wait for the older man just headed straight for his apartment.
"Hold on, cowboy, let's go together." Chris called from the stair well.
Vin sighed trying to keep his annoyance under control at Chris's overprotectiveness. The man took his babysitting duties seriously, Vin thought. Chris soon caught up with him and together they walked to the door. Vin turned the knob only to find the door locked. He rolled his eyes then dug in his pockets for his keys. Chris had convinced him to start locking his door and he still wasn't in the habit of having his keys ready when he reached it. He had protested that the kids needed to use his computer to do homework after school. Chris had stood his ground telling him to give a few of the mothers in the building keys to his apartment. Vin had agreed but he still wasn't used to it. With a little fumbling, he finally got the door opened. Vin stopped immediately in the doorway and Chris could see his body tense. Chris immediately went on defense his hand straying to the 32 under his arm.
He surveyed the room but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary in the clutter scattered around the apartment but obviously Vin did. Chris watched as he glanced around the room trying to figure out what it was. Suddenly Vin's eyes stopped at his collection of CD's piled haphazardly along the wall by the stereo. The younger agent strode over and began to rummage in the CD's then let out a curse.
"What is it?" Chris asked.
"He took my Beatles' CDs," Vin answered.
"You're sure?" Chris asked and Vin nodded. "Anything else out of the ordinary?"
"Nah," Vin said then stopped. "Wait, what's this?" Chris watched as Vin pulled out another CD. "I don't remember buying this Billy Joel CD."
Chris watched as Vin carefully opened the plastic case. When it was open sitting on top of the CD was a familiar white piece of paper. Vin picked it up and put the CD on top of the others. Chris looked over his shoulder as he opened the letter.
I took the Beatles Left Billy Joel My little good byes "What song?" Chris asked looking around the room.
"Ain't sure," Vin said puzzled. "Not one I recognize, but he must have known I liked the Beatles and Billy Joel."
" Damn!" Chris cursed. "Alright, get your stuff we're out of here."
Fifteen minutes later, Chris pulled away from the apartment and Vin watched his home fade out of sight. How long? he wondered silently, would it be before he came back here? They rode in silence for nearly an hour. However, Chris pulled off the interstate several exits before the road leading to the ranch.
"Thought we'd stop for dinner," Chris answered before he even asked.
"Not hungry."
"Well , I am."
Larabee pulled into the Texas Land and Cattle Company. It was a very casual place to eat and the older man knew Vin would be more comfortable there, than in a fancy restaurant.
The interior of the building was decorated with a rustic atmosphere. Rough paneled walls dotted with western prints. Spurs and saddles were scattered around the room hung on the walls. At their request, the waitress brought them to a booth in the far corner of the dimly lit room. They debated the merits of ordering steak rare or well done just letting the atmosphere of the place ease the tension that had been riding them all day. When their dinner came, they ate in silence listening to the music piped into the room. Vin was nursing the last of his beer listening to the song on the jukebox when the waitress returned and handed him a note. Vin sat up so suddenly his spine popped in protest. His mind was screaming at him to just throw the damn thing away. He opened the note instead.
Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? With your cowboy boots and your painted on jeans, Why your almost given me a heart attack, Waltzin' right in here looking like that. It took a few seconds before Vin realized that the song the lyrics were from was currently being played through the speakers scattered around the room. In a near panic, he began frantically searching the room looking for a face. Any face. One he recognized or someone taking far too much of an interest in the events unfolding at the far booth. The room was packed. A noisy group in the corner was harassing the waiter clearing their dinner from the table. Couples were perched on bar stools or on benches lining the walls waiting for their tables. Wait staff was busy carrying full plates of food to the tables and whisking away empty dishes. Noting the escalating panic on Vin's face, Chris reached over and snatched the paper from the sharpshooter's shaking hands.
Larabee had hoped the waitress was slipping Vin her phone number. It happened a lot when they ate out together. As he read the note, Chris mentally chastised himself for letting his guard down. Even if it had only been for a few hours. He managed to catch Vin's attention and was somewhat taken aback by the fear that radiated from his friend's eyes. Suddenly, the Texan bolted for the restroom. Chris followed at a more leisurely pace so not to draw attention to himself.
When he entered, he could hear Vin retching in the stall. The past couple of days had been rough on Vin, but the blond was somewhat surprised that they had taken this kind of toll on the man. Chris locked the door behind him and waited for the younger agent to come out. A few minutes later he did and walked over to the sink to rinse his face. When he was done, Chris handed him a paper towel. Larabee rested a hip against the sink, folded his arms and studied the younger man with a narrow look.
"Thanks," he whispered and took the towel in a shaking hand.
"Don't worry Vin we'll get whoever's doing this."
"I can't believe I let 'im get to me like this."
"Yeah, well he's getting to me also."
"I can't believe he's following us."
"I don't like that either but there isn't much we can do about. Ready to go out?"
"I reckon."
Chris only stopped long enough to leave money for the check and the tip on the table. Vin grabbed a few of the peppermint candies left with the bill trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth. They drove to the ranch in silence. Vin moved into the guest bedroom and slung his duffel bag onto the floor. He sat down tiredly on the side of the bed and shrugged out of his jacket. He unfastened the gun and holster he wore under his arm and looped it over the headboard of the bed.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chris walked into the kitchen, and threw his keys onto the table in the entryway of the lodge-style home. With nothing better to do and needing an excuse to keep his hand's busy, he brewed a pot of coffee. When the coffee was brewed he poured himself a mug and waited for Vin. When a half-hour passed and the sharp shooter failed to make an appearance, Chris got nervous and headed for the bedroom. Vin was sprawled across the bed asleep. He smiled to himself thinking that at least the man felt safe here. Tossing a brightly colored Pendleton over the man, he moved back into the living room. He idly flipped on the laptop computer and started sorting through his E-mail messages. His mind wasn't really on the task at hand though. Instead, he was thinking about what they'd do to the stalker when they caught him.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Vin felt like he was trapped. He had been at the ranch for a couple of days and already he was going crazy. He was saddling one of the horses to go out for a ride when Chris caught him.
"Where ya headed."
"For a ride." Vin answered almost sullenly. He eased the bit into the gelding's mouth slipping the bridle over the horse's ears.
"Not alone." Chris had leaned back against the rail fence studying the sullen agent sharply.
"Nope. Kinda figured the horse would be with me." Vin turned back to the saddle double checking the cinch before he turned to glare at Chris.
"That wasn't what I meant."
Vin knew exactly what Larabee meant but he'd be damned if he started letting people treat him like a child that needed to be watched. He figured it was about time to remind Chris of that. It went downhill from there.
As Chris watched his friend stalk off, leaving him with the saddled horse, he wasn't sure who he was more pissed at; Vin for not realizing it wasn't the brightest of all ideas to go riding alone - or himself for pointing out, in no uncertain terms, how stupid the idea was.
"Diplomatic as always, Larabee," Chris sighed and took the horse inside to remove the tack.
He knew Vin was getting restless. It was a good thing the others were coming over tonight to watch the Rockies game. They could entertain him for the evening. He unsaddled the horse and brushed it down. He was putting the animal in the corral when Vin came out to stand by the fence.
"Sorry, Chris."
Chris just shrugged off the apology.
"No harm done."
"I don't know how much more of this I can take. There been any leads?"
"Nothing. It's frustrating. We haven't received all the lab results, yet, but they've been pretty inconclusive. Bond paper available at any office supply store. No prints on them except ours."
"Well, maybe we lost him. I haven't gotten anything since I came out to the ranch."
"It's possible, but I doubt it. He's always known where you are."
"I reckon."
"Come on, I could use some help fixing the fence. Those horses insist on fighting over it."
The afternoon passed quietly. The natural silence stretching comfortably between the two men. As evening approached, Vin grabbed a shower before heading to the kitchen to make his salsa. Vin was chopping a handful of yellow hots when Chris appeared freshly showered. He grabbed two beers from the fridge handing one to Vin while eyeing the contents of the bowl nervously.
"Damn Vin," Chris said when he smelled the peppers. "Are those the hot ones?"
"Yup," Vin said with a smile taking a bite of one. "Want one?" He offered a yellow pepper to Chris.
"Hell no! I fell for that once. Not again." Chris raised his hands in defense and retreated to the living room.
Vin laughed and finished with the salsa. Lugging in more beer from the garage, he quickly stocked the fridge. Chris had just offered to give him a hand when the chime of the doorbell startled them both. Both men found it necessary to get their breathing under control when the front door opened.
"Howdy, Pards," yelled Buck, as he walked towards the kitchen.
He was carrying a grocery bag full of snacks and dropped it on the counter. JD followed carrying a case of beer. He handed it to Vin before immediately heading for the back of goodies. Vin stared at the boy ruefully before heading back to the garage to store the beer.
"We the first ones here?" The kid asked
"Yup," Chris said.
JD spied the salsa and the tortilla chips. He ripped open the bag and grabbed a chip. He scooped up the salsa shoving the entire chip into his mouth.
"Hey this is good," he said. He failed to notice that Buck, Chris and Vin were eyeing him intently. Then, his eyes started to water. "Oh shit!"
He ran around the counter and over to the sink. He turned on the cold water and started to drink directly from the faucet. Vin laughed and Buck shook his head.
"There should be a warning on your coffee and your salsa," Buck said.
"Oh God, my tongue's still burning," JD complained and turned off the water.
"Here JD, put some salt on your tongue and eat it." Vin said feeling sorry for him.
JD just stared at Vin in disgust. "And why should I trust you?"
"Because it will help your burning tongue."
Finally, JD did as he was told, grimacing. Josiah and Nathan walked in just in time to see JD shaking salt from the shaker on to his tongue.
"Let me guess, Brother Vin made some salsa." Josiah laughed.
"Damned near killed me," JD complained.
"It can't be that bad," Josiah said and tried some. His eyes watered but he smiled. "Whoa, now that has a kick."
"You two keep eating stuff like that and you'll end up with an ulcer," Nathan warned.
Vin rolled his eyes and they laughed. Nathan and Josiah had brought a four-foot hero sandwich. Gathering up plates and goodies the entire group moved into the living room.
Ezra was the last to arrive carrying bags from his favorite gourmet restaurant. He went out to the kitchen to arrange the hor d'oeuvres on a plate. He placed the plate on the coffee table in the living with a flourish.
"Now this is more like it," JD said as he snatched a cracker covered with prosciutto and mozzarella.
"Alright, gentlemen, which gastronomic delicacy am I avoiding?" Ezra asked suspiciously.
"The salsa!" they all cried in unison.
"Y'all just have no taste," Vin grumbled. "Just leaves more for me."
"And you're welcome to it," Josiah shot back.
Chris laughed and turned the big screen TV on. The game was entering its third inning when the doorbell pealed.
"I got it!" Vin yelled as he jumped up.
He opened the door to find a messenger serviceman holding a box.
"I have a package for Vin Tanner," he said.
Chris watched from the living room. He was on instant alert when he saw Vin's body language change. One minute he was relaxed and in a heart beat he was on the defensive. He watched Vin tip the deliveryman and close the door.
The others sensed the atmosphere change and Nathan muted the TV. Vin hadn't moved from the door and Chris walked over to him. He saw Vin had a plain brown box with his name on it.
"I'll take it," Chris offered as he went to take the box from Vin.
"No it's alright, I got it," Vin said as he walked to the kitchen. The others followed.
Vin carefully checked the box for any wires. When he was satisfied there weren't any he took out his knife and cut the tape. The others gathered round as he cautiously opened the box. What they found inside shocked them all.
Inside was Cuervo. The box had been lined with plastic so the blood wouldn't leak through. Taped to the top of the box was a note. Vin wouldn't touch it. Josiah took it off and read it out loud. "Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine. I like to feed you with a little tuna on the side. Every time we get together. I sure have a good time. You're my friend. You're the best. Mi amigo"
"That's Jose Cuervo by Shelley West," Buck said.
Chris watched as the color drained from Vin's face. All of them liked the cat but Vin was especially attached. He walked over to the younger man and he could see he was shaking. Chris could see JD wasn't doing much better. He had his hand over his mouth and had moved closer to Buck. Ezra leaned down to take a closer look.
"It's not the feline we are acquainted with," he said.
"How do you know?" Chris asked.
"Cuervo is a male. This one's a female."
They all looked again. Ezra was right, it wasn't Cuervo. Vin noticed something else when he bent to look closer. The cat was still breathing.
"Oh God, it's still alive!" he cried.
He picked up the box and ran for the door. He grabbed Chris's keys to the Ram.
"I'll drive," Chris said catching up to him. "The rest of you stay here. We'll be back."
They ran out to the Ram and climbed in. He pulled out of the drive and headed for the highway. There was an emergency animal hospital not too far away. Chris watched Vin gently stroke the cat. He talked quietly to the injured animal reassuring it as much as himself.
Twenty minutes later Chris pulled into the parking lot for the hospital. He barely had the Ram stopped before Vin jumped out and raced for the door. Chris finished parking the truck then followed him. He walked in and saw one of the techs take the cat from Vin and head in the back. Vin stood by the counter not sure what to do.
"Come on Vin, lets have a seat."
Vin nodded and followed Chris over to the chairs. He sat down and pulled his knees up under his chin and lowered his head to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs and sat there. Chris had learned that Vin usually sat like that when he was upset or worried. He had seen him do it numerous times when one of the team was in the hospital. They didn't wait long before the vet came out.
"I'm sorry there's nothing we can do. I'm afraid I'll have to put her to sleep."
"You're sure?" Vin asked in a small voice.
"Yes, I'm sorry." he answered and Vin nodded. "Would you like the body so you can bury it?"
"Yes," Chris answered when he saw that Vin had walked away. "Thank you."
The vet nodded and went through the doors. Chris turned to see Vin had walked over to the corner. He started towards Vin when he screamed and punched his fist into the plaster wall causing it to crack. Chris could see he was shaking from rage. Vin turned hate filled eyes to him.
"I want this creep. I want ‘im bad," Vin hissed.
"So do I, cowboy, so do I."
A few minutes later the tech came out carrying a cardboard box and handed it to Vin. He went to pay the bill. He apologized for the wall and told them to send him the bill for the repairs. Chris waited for him by the door and they walked out together.
The ride back to the ranch was a silent one. Chris pulled up to the door and they got out. Vin headed for the barn with the box in his hand. Chris followed but kept at a distance. Vin got a shovel and went to a small patch of wild flowers behind one of the corrals. He dug a hole and opened the box and took out the small white bundle and placed it in the hole then covered it with the dirt. He placed a large rock on top so scavengers wouldn't dig it up. After returning the shovel, the two men headed back to the house. The others were still there when they walked in. Vin ignored them and went to his room and closed the door.
"What happened?" JD asked.
"There was nothing they could do. They had to put it sleep. We brought it back and Vin buried it behind the corral."
"How is he?" Buck asked, lifting an eyebrow towards the bedroom.
"He's upset and pissed. He punched the wall at the vet's."
"Brother Vin has a right to be mad. This mad man has stepped over the line with this gift."
"I want you guys to check everything," Chris said. "Don't leave anything unturned. Even if it seems too far fetched. Whoever it is, he hides his tracks very well."
"Don't worry, Chris, we'll check out everything," Buck said.
"Yes we will check every inconceivable scenario," Ezra assured him.
After everyone left Vin walked out of his room and walked to the living room. Chris had been putting the food away and watched as Vin had a seat on the couch. Chris grabbed two beers and walked into the living room. He had a seat next to him and handed him the beer. Vin took it raised it to his lips and finished it in one drink. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling.
"Why me Chris?" he asked and looked at him.
"I don't know, Chris said softly and put a hand on his shoulder. "But, I promise you we'll find him."
Vin closed his eyes. He hated feeling like this - - scared.
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Chris watched as Vin made what must have been his 100th circuit around the sofa and the easy chair in the living room. The sharpshooter came to a stop once again at the West-facing picture window. He stared out into the inky blackness. The wind rattled the windowpane as a few large drops of rain splashed against it. The approaching storm lit up the western horizon in a brilliant lightning display. Nature's little temper tantrum was lost on Vin though as he restlessly began to pace the living room again. Chris's voice finally caught his attention.
"You planning on replacing my carpet after you wear a hole in it, cowboy?"
"Sorry, Chris," Vin gave the man a rueful stare and half-smile.
He forced himself to sit in one of the overstuffed easy chairs and began to idly flip through a Louis L'Amour novel Chris had left on the small end table. He could feel Chris's eyes boring a hole into his back.
Chris had just given his full attention back to his computer when he heard Vin mutter a curse and the soft thud of the book being tossed on to the table. He was back on his feet and pacing the room again by the time Chris shut the program down and looked up.
"Ya know, Vin," he said softly, "This isn't a prison. It's just for a few days until we can get a line on his guy."
"I know that, Chris. It's just…Hell, I don't know. Seems as long as I'm stuck in here then whoever this bastard is, he's won."
"It's just for a few days," Chris soothed, "And he hasn't won. Not yet."
Larabee was about to continue when the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted them. Vin was visibly startled. Chris never took his eyes off him as he answered the phone.
"Larabee."
Vin had once again begun to pace the room when something in Larabee's voice stopped him. He immediately turned his attention back to Chris.
"Speak up, I can't hear," Chris's voice had become louder as he tried to combat the static affecting his phone lines. He could barely hear the voice on the other end. Whoever it was they sounded frantic.
"Buck? Buck, is that you?" The voice on he other end faded in and out but he did manage to catch brief snippets of the conversation.
"JD…car accident…he's at Four Corner's General…head injury, Chris. Need you…here." The voice faded out again as static hissed through the connection. Chris cursed. The storm must be messing with the phone lines. It happened sometimes.
"Look, Buck. Stay calm. I'll be there as soon as possible." Chris listened for a second longer before pulling the phone from his ear and shutting it off. He was out of his chair in seconds.
"What's wrong?" Vin's voice brought him up short.
"That was Buck. JD's been in a car accident. He's at Four Corner's General. I'm going there now."
Vin headed straight for his coat, "I'm goin' with ya."
"No!" Chris tone was sharp. He put out a hand to stop Tanner. "You're safer here. Turn the alarm system on again once I'm gone."
Vin sighed in frustration. He knew Chris was right but dammit all he was beginning to feel like a prisoner. He only nodded to Chris. Within minutes, the man headed out the door into the growing thunderstorm leaving Vin alone with his thoughts.
Vin turned to the kitchen. He'd make himself some coffee and try to occupy the time somehow. Rummaging around in the cabinets, Vin found the old fashioned stove top percolator. He knew Chris kept the coffee for it around somewhere. His search was rewarded when he moved it to the small pantry. A bold flash of lightning lit up the night sky as Vin passed the back door. It was gonna be a helluva storm, he decided.
Vin had finally measured the coffee into the metal basket and reassembled the coffeepot when a noise from outside caught his attention. He placed the pot on the counter and moved to the back door. He was forced to turn off the kitchen light and flicked the switch that powered the porch light in order to see anything but his own reflection.
Vin waited until his eyes had adjusted to the dim light offered by the single bulb. The corrals and barn were situated some 20 yards from the main house. Everything glistened wetly the raindrops flashing silver in the small circle of light. Nothing seemed out of place. Vin was about to shut off the porch light and return to the kitchen when movement near the corrals caught his eye. A large shape moved quickly across the lawn marked by a flash of red hide. "Ah hell," Vin thought, "one of the horses must be loose."
Fortunately, Larabee kept his few horses penned separately. It kept them from scarring and maiming one another in their quest to be herd boss. It also kept any horse that escaped its pen from running off. They preferred the company of the herd to exploring the surroundings alone. It was unlikely the horse would actually stray from the place. However, Vin decided he couldn't take any chances. The horse would have to be caught before he hurt himself or somebody ran over him. Turning, Vin grabbed his light coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He checked for the presence of his H&K. With some trepidation, he punched the code that disarmed the alarm system and stepped out into the storm.
The wind immediately pelted cold drops of rain into his face. He hunched over and tried to shield himself from the fury of the storm. A thunderous clap followed a bolt of lightning. Damn horse, he thought somewhat uncharitably. You're going to get us both killed. There was nothing to be done about it, he supposed. Horses weren't prized for their common sense. How the horse had gotten the gate open was anybody's guess. Chris usually double-latched his as a precaution against the occasional escape artist. Must have left it open after feeding time this afternoon.
Vin gratefully stepped through the big double doors of the barn. The dry warmth was a welcome change. Even in the short walk from the house his hair was plastered to his head. He grabbed up the closest halter and moved into the feed room. Chris would have a fit if he learned he'd enticed a horse to him with grain. Hell, Vin thought wryly, Chris will have a fit if he finds out I left the house. For any reason. Well, there might be a few things tonight that Chris just didn't need to know about.
Vin moved back out into the storm. "Okay, Caballo, where are ya?" he muttered softly to himself. A squeal from behind the barn answered his question. He moved around the end of the barn to the side the horse runs attached to. The object of his search could be seen making his acquaintance with Chris's bay gelding near the far run. The horses occupying the next two runs were bucking and dancing excitedly around their small pens. Nothing got a horse more excited than someone running around loose. Vin shook the can of grain hoping the stray would hear it over the rain. He kept the halter at his side and began to move towards the animal.
In the end, catching the sorrel proved to be easy. Some soothing words and a lip or two of grain from the can and Vin slipped the lead rope around the animal's neck. The halter quickly followed and Vin buckled it into place. The gelding easily accepted his recapture.
"Alright, fella, let's get back to your pen. I gotta get back inside that house before your owner gets back." Vin led the horse around to the front of the barn and into the double doors. Sure enough, the half door leading into its stall was swung partially open. He quickly turned the animal loose in its stall. He rubbed its forehead between the eyes and communed silently with him for a moment before stepping out of the stall. He examined the gate latch carefully. Looked like it had worn from too much use and simply snapped. He'd have to use some baling wire to relatch the gate. Vin pushed the door closed and moved to the bin where Chris kept the wire. Pulling a piece free, he doubled it over and moved back to the gate.
The silent watcher in the darkened corner of the barn watched as Vin Tanner examined the locking mechanism on the stall door. The figure moved quietly behind Vin as he returned to the door to wire it shut. The ceaseless pounding of rain on the roof of the barn masked the sound of any movement. Very slowly an object clasped in a black-gloved hand was brought into firing position the laser sighting marking the prey. With Vin bent over his work and completely unawares, the silent figure pulled the trigger. The bolts leapt from the gun pelting his quarry square in the back.
Even through the heavy oilcloth of the barn coat, 50,000 V T-Waves didn't feel too good. The force of it threw Vin against the wooden partition. His thoughts split apart as he slid down it onto the concrete floor of the aisle way. His arms and legs seemed to belong to somebody else. They refused to obey the signal his frantic brain kept sending out. Stunned, all he could think was that Chris was going to be pissed.
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The automatic doors leading to the ER of Four Corner's General swished open as Chris strode into the building. The waiting room was crowded. It usually was, Chris reflected. His eyes scanned the room. There was no sign of Buck. He wasn't lurking near the doors leading to the treatment rooms either. Puzzled, Chris headed to the front desk.
Out of habit, he had his badge out and flashed it in the face of the LPN stationed there.
"I'm Chris Larabee. One of my agents was brought in earlier. Car wreck," Chris's words were terse.
"His name, sir?"
"J.D. Dunne."
Chris turned slightly and scanned the room again while the nurse scanned the computer screen in front of her. His attention was brought back to the girl when she spoke.
"I'm sorry, but we haven't admitted a JD Dunne. Or any other car accidents, for that matter."
"What?!" Disbelief quickly crossed Chris's face. His eyes seemed to impale the girl. "Check again."
The nurse was about to protest citing her other duties when something in Chris's demeanor caused her to refocus on the computer. Chris watched her fingers tap lightly across the keyboard. He stared at them willing her to find the information that he wanted to hear. Needed to hear. A gnawing ache was forming in the pit of his stomach. When the girl looked up again, her face told him everything he needed to know.
"Sorry, sir, but he hasn't been admitted to this . . ." She never finished her sentence when the man before her uttered a stream of curses and shoved away from the desk.
Chris forced his way back to the doors leading outside. He stopped under the overhang and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He rapidly punched in the familiar numbers and hit the send button. Cursing silently, he stared out into the ceaseless rain as he waited for the phone to ring. A sleepy voice greeted him.
"Hello?"
"Buck, it's Chris," Chris's forced himself to remain calm. There could still be an explanation. "Where the hell's JD?"
"What? Chris, what're you talkin' about? I can hear, JD, now. He's playing something on the Nintendo in the living room."
"Dammit!" Chris's curse rebounded over the phone. "Buck, get the boys together. Meet me at my place. Now!" Chris didn't wait for an answer. His finger stabbed at the end button. He was dialing the phone as he plunged into the rain and moved towards his truck.
"C'MON, C'MON! Answer the damn phone, Vin!" The phone continued to ring. Chris hit the end button and immediately punched the number again. Maybe he had just misdialed. Shouldn't the answering machine have picked up? Ending the call, he stabbed the numbers brutally. Once more, the phone rang endlessly. Chris pulled himself into the cab of the truck mindless of the water staining the upholstery and tossed the cell phone into the passenger seat. The engine roared to life. He backed out of the parking spot tires squealing, shoved the truck into gear and headed for home.
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The silent figure stared at the prone figure sprawled on the cement floor. The bolts were reeled back into the gun as the attacker moved to kneel beside Tanner. With a booted foot, Tanner was roughly shoved onto his back. The body came to a stop when Vin's shoulder and back hit the barn wall. Kneeling down, the figure roughly grabbed a handful of long hair and pulled his captive's head closer to his face.
"You alive?"
Vin felt himself shoved roughly onto his back. Vaguely, he thought he should go for his gun. Get his feet underneath him and run like hell. Both options sounded damn good. He just couldn't get his treacherous arms and legs to obey his brain. A hand grabbed his hair and he was jerked upwards. His eyes locked with those of the figure leaning over him. Oh God! Vin's shock coursed through his body. It was a man.
"Yeah, you're alive. Bet you're wondering what happened to you. Let me explain." The man brandished a somewhat unwieldy gun-shaped object. "Air Taser. Guaranteed to disable any would-be bad guy. Course you ain't a bad guy, are you?" He leered at Vin. "Wondering why you can't move your arms and legs? Disrupts the nerve impulses. Course, you being a cop and all you probably know all this."
Even as he spoke, Vin's attacker was placing the gun in a canvas carryall retrieved from a darkened corner of the barn. Vin remained still as he felt a rather unpleasant tingling sensation take up residence in his legs. Thoughts tumbled over in his mind. He tried to force them into some semblance of order. He needed to remain calm. Yeah right, Tanner, remain calm. That oughta help. The tingling in his legs had spread to his arms. It felt like someone was pricking him with needles. Highly unpleasant, as Ezra would say.
He had been introduced to the air taser during a weapons demonstration at an ATF training seminar. Luckily, the weapon was non-lethal. However, no one had mentioned how miserable it was. Dammit Vin, concentrate! To hell with the damn taser. You're flat on your back, with a damn psycho. Sometimes, Vin hated that little voice. Almost without thinking, Vin forced his legs to move.
The nameless figure kneeling next to him saw the knee-jerk reaction. A small smile crossed his features. Tanner was a tough one. It just served to make this little game all the more interesting. He swiftly searched the ATF agent for weapons, his hands rough. It didn't take long to discover the H&K in the hip holster hidden by the long folds of his coat. Tanner, he noted, also kept a small knife strapped inside his boot. A very nice one, too. He turned back to the bag. It was obvious the effects of the taser were beginning to wear off. Tanner was beginning to twitch. Well, He had a little something that was guaranteed to keep his prize docile.
Vin watched as his assailant rooted around in the bag for a few minutes. The entire time he kept trying to force his arms and legs to obey the commands sent by his brain. His eyes watered with the effort it required to move even a few inches. He couldn't ever recall being this helpless. He was unable to resist when he was quickly and expertly disarmed.
The cement under Vin's back and legs was starting to become cold and very hard. Rivulets of water from his long hair were running down his neck in icy rivulets. It felt like someone's icy fingers were caressing his back. He shivered mentally although the action never reached his muscles. The effects of the taser still preventing any coordinated muscle use.
The only hope he saw in this situation was that he was still alive. Whatever his intentions, the bastard hadn't killed him. Yet. The use of the taser was further proof that murder was not foremost in his mind. Course, sometimes there were worse things than dying. Another almost involuntary spasm ran through his legs. However, he was still unable to control them. Dammit, all he needed to do was kick this psycho's head in and this whole damn nightmare would be over and he couldn't control his big toe.
"Gotta a little something here for you." The tone of the man's voice was almost gleeful.
At least somebody was enjoying this, Vin thought because he sure as hell wasn't. The pins and needles sensation in his arms and legs was finally starting to fade. Given a few more moments, he might be able to get his feet under him. When he saw what the man held in his hands, he knew he wasn't going to have a few more moments. The overhead fluorescent lights glinted of a small amber colored bottle. More ominous was the syringe and needle that was being inserted into the rubber septum. Deftly, the plunger of the syringe was drawn out and colorless liquid quickly filled the vacuum space.
Seeing Vin's eyes drawn unerringly toward the syringe, the man spoke again.
"Ketamine hydrochloride," he said lightly as he gently tossed the bottle back into the bag. "Courtesy of your local vet. You know, they really should have better security. Nothing but a thumb lock on the back door and a glass fronted medicine cabinet. It wouldn't keep a five-year-old out of the stuff." As she spoke, he carefully placed the syringe and needle on the floor beside him. He reached for Vin's jacket, giving a small laugh when Vin managed to jerk back away from him.
"Gonna have to tell the manufacturer's of that gun it don't work as good as they say. Fifteen minutes is what I was told." He grabbed the zipper of Vin's jacket and jerked it down freeing it completely. He brutally pulled it off his left shoulder and down his arm effectively pinning Vin's arm to his side in the process. At this point, Vin began to struggle in earnest. His feeble attempts only seemed to amuse his captor.
"Nice try, but I don't have time for this. Larabee's going to be back soon and I don't think he'd take too kindly to all this. Besides, it would spoil my plans." His voice had dropped to a throaty silken tone.
He effectively stopped Vin's movements by placing one knee on Vin's neck and cheek and leaning his weight onto it. Craning his neck to look behind him, Vin's captor picked up the syringe. Without wasting time, he pulled up the sleeve of the t-shirt Vin was wearing and plunged the needle into his exposed bicep.
Vin jerked reflexively when the needle hit home. He swore he could feel the cold liquid as it left the needle and entered his body. Oh God, no. The burning sensation increased as his body protested the needle in his arm. Vin was about to give voice to his misery when a strange sensation passed over him. He blinked his eyes dizzily. Suddenly, the gravity of his situation didn't matter. The lingering effects of the taser, the bastard who was grinding his face into the floor, the needle, none of it mattered. It was as though he had been completely removed from the nightmare. Some part of Vin's mind tried to tell him this wasn't right, that this shouldn't be happening, when a welcome darkness surrounded him and cradled him in its embrace.
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The rear wheels of the Dodge Ram locked up as the brakes were applied, sending the truck sliding across the mud-slicked drive. Before the truck had stopped completely, Larabee wrenched open the door and was sprinting across the rain-soaked lawn leaving the truck engine running. The headlights threw eerie shadows across the small yard. The rain had stopped by the time Larabee had reached the turnoff to his place, but lightning flashes in the distances promised yet another storm was on the way. Chris already had his gun in his hands, safety off as he took the slick front steps two at a time. His boot heels echoed hollowly on the deep-set porch. Approaching the door, his instincts as a cop of fifteen plus years warred with his fear for Vin. One demanding that he enter the darkened house slowly, even wait until backup arrived. Worry for his friend demanding he search the building immediately. The worry for Vin won out.
Instincts took over somewhat as Chris came to a stop to the side of the front door. Reaching over he banged on the wooden frame loudly. While there was a chance that he'd alert any intruders to his presence, he realized that his arrival in the truck had probably given him away already.
"Vin, it's Chris! Let me in." Only silence greeted his attempts to call Vin. To his dismay, he discovered he'd left the keys to the house in the truck across the yard. Chris swore viciously. Deciding against re-crossing the yard to get the keys, Chris began moving around the wraparound porch. Deftly avoiding the rocking chairs and porch furniture, Chris eased around the side of the house. He was careful to avoid silhouetting himself against the windows. The lights from the Dodge illuminated part of the lawn that rolled down into the barnyard. There was no sound coming from the animals save for the rattling of feed tubs and occasional stomping noises.
Light spilled across the side porch from the window in the great room. Chris carefully edged his way up to the window to try to get a look inside the room. The solitude of the house rarely necessitated the use of the window blinds allowing Chris an unimpeded view of the room. He knew that he was risking a bullet from Vin if the sharpshooter mistook him for a prowler, but he trusted Vin not to shoot until he knew who or what he was shooting at. Assuming that Vin was anywhere around. Lamps that flanked the ranchero style sofa softly lighted the great room. The scene was utterly peaceful and Vin was nowhere in sight. Chris was somewhat reassured that there were no signs of a violent struggle. Moving quickly across the window, Chris rounded the corner to the rear porch.
The floodlight above the back porch lit up the rear yard. Everything glistened wetly under the harsh fluorescent light. Chris knew that the light had been off when he left. He wondered what had prompted the sharpshooter to turn it on. As Chris approached the back door off the utility room, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Gripping the gun tightly, he carefully surveyed his surroundings. He retreated into the darkened recess of the porch until he ran into the solid presence of the wall at his back trying to lose himself in the porch shadows. The yard remained still. Lightning flashes from the approaching storm lit up the western sky. Chris had never regretted leaving the frenetic pace of the city behind for the peaceful surrounds of his small mountain place. Until now. The isolation that he'd so cherished was quickly turning ominous.
Chris eased his way along the wall until he reached the door leading into the utility and kitchen. Never taking his eyes off the yard, Chris felt along with his left hand until he found the cold metal knob. With a twist of the knob, the door swung open silently. Chris swore. He knew damn well that the door had been locked when he'd left for the hospital. With one last quick glance across the yard toward the barn, Chris moved inside the darkened utility room. Deciding to risk it, he called out softly for the sharpshooter.
"Vin, you here?"
Silence. Surveying the darkened laundry room revealed no missing sharpshooter. Quickly crossing the small expanse, Chris made his way into the darkened kitchen. Light spilled across the room from the adjoining great room. On the butcher block was his old coffee percolator and a can full of coffee. The room was silent and empty. Chris threw caution to the wind and quickly made his way through the rest of the house. Vin was nowhere to be found. The only sounds were the old grandfather clock in the entryway marking off the seconds as they ticked by and the brushing of a ponderosa pine against the roof of the porch.
It was a big place, he told himself, trying to keep the fear for his friend in check. He still had the barn and outbuildings to check. Vin could still be here. Still be all right. Knowing that he was grasping at straws, Chris made his way back to the kitchen and found himself staring into the business end of an H&K.
"God dammit, Chris! You just don't do that to a man!" Buck's strident voice broke the silence of the house. He jerked the gun barrel up and away from Chris' face and pulled back sharply.
Breathing heavily, Chris forced himself to remain calm trying to slow the beating of his heart. The situation was rapidly deteriorating out of his control and he hated it. He fumbled blindly at the wall behind him until his hand hit the light switch flooding the kitchen with bright light. Buck stood directly in front of him hands clenching and unclenching around the butt of his gun. He was clearly trying to regain his composure. JD was off to the side, gun also drawn and ready.
"What the hell's going on, Chris?" JD's voice broke the silence that had descended on the kitchen. He was squinting slightly against the glare from the light. All he knew was that Buck had woken him from a sound sleep and hustled him into the truck. The drive up to Chris's place had been accomplished at a speed that no sane man would attempt on the winding, twisting, and wet blacktop. They'd entered the yard to find Chris's truck abandoned the engine still running and no sign of either man.
"I don't have time to explain," Chris said shortly. "Vin's missing. I've searched the house. You and JD check the barns. I'll search the other buildings."
Both men nodded curtly. Years of following Chris's orders first and asking questions later ingrained in them.
"Oh, and Buck."
"Yeah, Chris."
"Try not to shoot anyone. Especially me."
A smile lit up Buck's face temporarily smoothing out the lines of worry. "Will do, Boss."
Both men exited the kitchen with Chris dogging their heels.
The three men spread out over the yard calling for Vin. Chris moved off to the Morgan building used to store equipment needed to keep his place functioning. JD and Buck split up at the barn. JD moved inside the darkened building while Buck made his way around the side to check the turnout pens and hay shed.
JD hit the master switch on the wall the fluorescent lights humming as they surged to life. A few items in front of an end stall cluttered the otherwise empty barn aisle. A few heads popped over the half doors soft brown eyes staring at him curiously. In a rare display of restraint, JD stayed near the entrance while his eyes adjusted to the glare of the lights. Moving cautiously down the length of the building, he peered into each stall by turns. There was a chance that Vin had come into the barn to check on the horses and had received a hoof to the head for his efforts. He was nearing the end stall when he noticed the halter, lead, and coffee can of grain lying in front of the half-door. The door had been wired shut. Fluttering in the breeze that flowed down the aisle was a white sheet of paper impaled on piece of the baling wire holding the stall door closed.
Icy fingers crawled down JD's back as he remembered the other bits of white paper he'd seen over the past few days. Nervously his eyes darted up and down the barn aisle. He was suddenly acutely aware that the sounds of the horses and the wind blowing through the vents on the roof would make it very easy for someone to sneak up on him unheard. The passageway remained empty. The only area he couldn't see into was the wash rack next to him. The tack room across the hall was padlocked shut. Eyeing the flapping paper with trepidation, JD decided that securing his immediate area took priority. Quickly checking over the half door revealed another empty stall. Its occupant could be seen standing quietly in the outdoor run. JD edged his way past the stall to the adjoining wash rack. Gripping his gun in a sweat slick palm, he eased his way around the corner. The space was empty.
Deciding he'd had enough of being alone, JD quickly moved back down the barn aisle to summon the other two men.
"Hey Buck! Buck!" The mustached agent immediately appeared from his search in the hay shed. "You better go get Chris. I found something."
He's got eyes of the bluest skies as if they thought of rain. I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of PAIN His hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I'd hide and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by. The typed words on the paper mocked Chris. He resisted the urge to simply wad up the note or better yet just rip it to shreds. Instead, he held it carefully by two corners to avoid marring any possible prints left behind by Vin's kidnapper. Not that he held out much hope for that. So far, Vin's stalker had proven too wily to leave behind something as simple and damning as a fingerprint.
JD jostled his elbow slightly as the boy read the words over Chris's shoulder. He whistled softly.
"Guns ‘n' Roses. Sweet Child of Mine," he said before continuing, "One of Vin's favorite bands. He changed the word's slightly but that's Guns."
Another song from Vin's CD collection. What the hell was going on here? Seeming to snap out of his introspection, Chris started giving orders.
"JD, call Nathan, Josiah, and Ezra. Get them out here. Now! We're going to search every inch of this property. I'll call AD Travis. Tell him one of my agents is missing. Buck, you better call the County Sheriff. We'll need all the help we can get. Tell ‘em to bring dogs"
Buck winced inwardly. He couldn't help but think that one of the dogs the search and rescue team would bring would be an animal trained to find cadavers. He prayed it didn't come to that. Both for Vin's sake and Chris's.
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The figure lay huddled in the center of the bare mattress resting on the floor. Occasional jerks and tremors of the arms and legs the only sign of life. Their movements purposeless.
"She's dead, boy…" the voice of the long forgotten policeman harsh in the ears of the 9-y-old boy.
Behind the uniformed officer the boy could see the body being wheeled out of the rat-infested hotel room. One bloodied hand hung from the sheets the body was wrapped in. To his horror, the sheet-draped form stirred. The head of the corpse turning towards him. The sheet fell away revealing sightless eyes and long golden hair matted to the face by blood. The macabre scene reminded the boy of those scary movies that his Mom had forbidden him to watch. He'd watched them anyway, of course, when his Mom wasn't around. Those sightless eyes stared accusingly into his frightened blue ones.
The little boy tried to move, to scream, to tell the police officer his Ma wasn't dead. The scream stuck in his throat when he couldn't draw enough air. He tried to run, but his arms and legs just wouldn't obey his terror-stricken brain. He felt like he was trying to wade through neck deep water. Then, the corpse with the face of his Mom started to speak to him in her sweet voice.
"Why didn't you stop him, son? Why'd you let him do it? I thought you were a Tanner, boy."
He started screaming trying to drown out the accusations from that beloved voice. He hadn't…He hadn't let his Mom die…
"NOOOOOOO!!!!"
The figure on the bed jerked violently and came awake with a shudder. The light from the single bare bulb hanging overhead blinding him as it pierced through his eyes. Closing his eyelids against it provided no relief. The light stabbed through to his brain sending needles of pain radiating outward.
He groaned and turned slowly onto his stomach pressing his face into the sagging mattress. It wasn't enough. In desperation, he brought his hands to his face barely cognizant of the fact that they were shackled together. He buried his face in his hands as another uncontrolled spasm ripped through his legs.
Despite his best efforts, he found himself falling back into his dreams, the voice of his dead Mother chasing him down.
"I thought you were a Tanner boy."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chris watched the activity around his ranch as the FBI took combed the property, searching for any small clue. Everyone gave him a wide berth as he glared in frustration from the porch post he was leaning against. The rest of Team 7 was used to Larabee's black moods and they left him alone.
The leader of the FBI team had started to read Chris the riot act when he learned they suspected a stalker earlier. Only the timely intervention of AD Travis had saved the FBI agent from Chris's wrath. It had been Travis who had insisted on the FBI taking over the case. The minute the AD had gotten Chris's call, telling him about Vin's disappearance, the older man had informed Team 7's leader in no uncertain terms, that the FBI was now in charge. Of course, the senior agent had protested, but Travis was adamant. The team was too emotionally involved in the case. Period. Chris had stormed off and taken up his stance on the porch.
"Chris sure is mad," JD said glancing at Chris.
"Can't say as I blame him," Buck growled. "I can't believe Travis didn't back us up on this."
"Gentlemen, I believe the venerable Assistant Director is right in his assessment of this case," Ezra argued.
"How can you say that?" JD asked shocked. "We should be the ones looking for Vin."
"I have to agree with Ezra," Josiah said. "We're all too emotionally close to the case."
"And, you gentlemen have missed another crucial factor. This will clear us to check more clandestine leads," Ezra added with a smile.
"Fancy pants, I like how you think," Buck smiled.
Chris was furious. He hated the fact that the FBI would be handling the case. He knew it was the right decision but he couldn't just sit idly by, while some mad man held Vin. Hell for all they knew the mad man, was a mad woman.
That was the problem. They had no leads and it looked like the FBI was also going to come up empty here. Dammit! It was as if the stalker knew exactly what they would look for. Chris pushed himself off the post with that thought. So far the stalker had left no clues, nothing they could use to follow him.
Larabee couldn't believe he hadn't noticed this sooner. The stalker obviously knew police procedure and was mocking them. Chris stepped off the porch and headed for his team.
"Hey Chris," Buck called as he got closer. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm pissed, Buck, that's how I'm doing!" Chris said angrily. "Should have known this was getting dangerous."
"We were all remiss in that assessment," Ezra said. "We all assumed it was some elaborate practical joke."
"Yeah," JD agreed.
"Have any of you noticed something about the clues he leaves," Chris asked.
"He doesn't leave any Chris," Nathan pointed out. "Except for the notes and there's never anything on them."
"Exactly," Chris exclaimed.
"It's as if he knows what we would look for," Ezra said looking at Chris.
Chris wasn't surprised that the wily undercover agent had figured it out so fast.
"Hey you're right," Buck said in surprise. "That means they ain't gonna find nothing here either."
"I don't think they will," Chris agreed. "But now we know we're looking for someone who knows police procedure."
"Which still leaves us with a large population of miscreants," Ezra pointed out.
"I know," Chris agreed tiredly. "But it's a place to start."
"Could it be someone from Vin's past?" JD asked.
"It's possible," Josiah agreed. "Vin made a number of enemies while he was a US Marshal."
"We're heading back to the office," Chris said starting for the vehicles. "JD, I want you to pull all of Vin's files, past and present."
"Right," JD said just happy to know his computer skills would help.
"You think maybe someone got out of prison and came looking for revenge?" Nathan asked as they stopped next to the Ram.
"Maybe," Chris said in frustration. "I just don't know."
"We'll find him Chris," Josiah said placing a reassuring hand on Chris's shoulder.
Chris nodded and they moved towards their respective vehicles. They now had a place to begin and were eager to get started.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
The bright light pierced the darkness and Vin groaned and closed his eyes against the painful glare.
"Smile for the camera, Mr. Tanner," called a voice the sharpshooter was sure he'd heard, but couldn't place.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
They'd been at it for three days. JD had given them computer printouts of all of Vin's arrests as both an agent and a Marshall. Over half of the men Vin had played a part in arresting were still in prison. Of the 83 suspects left, 27 were dead. That left 56 men for Team Seven to account for. By the end of the second afternoon, 40 of the men on their list had been eliminated. And of the 16 remaining suspects, they'd been able to find alibis for seven of them. That left nine possible suspects. JD had printed out pictures and rap sheets for the nine men.
Now, they studied the pictures and read the rap sheets with sinking hearts. All of these men were vicious criminals, some of them murderers several times over. If any of these men had Vin, their was little hope for the Texan's survival.
"DAMMIT! Where the hell is the coffee?" Chris in frustration, as he rooted through the cabinet under the coffee maker.
"It's right here, Chris," Josiah said gently and lifted a bag of the coffee three inches from Chris's hand. "Why don't you go on over there and let me make it," the big man suggested, gently stilling Chris's hand with his own bigger one.
Larabee glared at him, breathing hard for a minute, before his whole body seemed to deflate along with his anger. Sighing wearily, Chris nodded slightly and headed towards the rest of the team.
Just as Chris crossed in front of Buck's desk, the office door opened. All six agents turned towards it and Chris warily headed for a messenger holding a large manilla envelope.
"I've got a delivery for Special Agent Larabee," the pimply faced teenager from the mail room said in a bored voice.
Chris hastily took the envelope and stood staring at it, while the young man left the office. The other five agents immediately surrounded him and stared apprehensively at the slim envelope he was holding.
Taking a deep breath, Larabee ripped open the top, too impatient to fumble with the string fastener. Peering inside, he muffled a curse and then hurried to the first desk and dumped the contents. Polaroid pictures, spilled out in a jumbled pile and he took a few seconds to spread them out and flip over the upside down ones, with a pencil.
Angry words and muffled curses escaped the other five men, when the sharpshooter's image appeared. He was lying on a bare mattress, clad only in his boxers. His hands were manacled together and his ankles were shackled and chained to a bolt in the wall.
Chris however said nothing, just stretched his hand out and traced the air just above a photo. His finger followed the outline of Vin's body, not touching the actual picture, lest he destroy the meager hope of a fingerprint.
"Hey guys, this is good, right?" JD said hesitantly. "I mean, it means he's alive," the young agent added hastily.
"Yeah JD, that's just what it means," Nathan said, a broad smile on his face.
"Mr. Dunne, remind me to buy you a drink, when this is all over," Ezra said and gave the boy his trademark two fingered salute.
Josiah picked the envelope up by a corner and reached in and pulled out a note that hadn't fallen out when Chris dumped the pictures. Carefully unfolding it, he read, "Are you looking for Blue Eyes? No, Don't you tell me, you gave up on him. Are you looking for blue eyes. You've got to find him. Something tells me, he's wanting you to."
"Bastard!" Chris cursed.
"Wait, there are two more," Josiah said grimly, and read the next note, "It's been fourteen years of silence; fourteen years of pain; fourteen years that are gone forever; that I'll never see again"
"Fourteen years?! Vin can't have any enemies from fourteen years ago," JD exclaimed. "He was just a kid back then."
"You're right kid," Buck said grimly and exchanged a look with Chris.
"That means, that Mr. Tanner is the bait, not the intended victim," Ezra put into words what they were all thinking.
"What's the last song, Josiah," Chris asked in a calm voice. However, his eyes shone with an icy determination. They'd been on the wrong track, but now they had the scent and would track their prey relentlessly.
Josiah's deep voice was sorrowful, as he read the words; I hear the train a coming, it's rolling round the bend, and I ain't seen the sunshine, since I don't know when, I'm stuck at Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin' on.
"Folsom Prison Blues," Ezra said quietly and the others turned to him in surprise. He shrugged and ignored the looks. "I believe gentlemen, that we can eliminate, myself, Mr. Jackson, and Mr. Dunne, as the target of our quarry's revenge. I also believe, that anyone who had spent any time at all observing Mr. Wilmington would have chosen Mr. Dunne, as the best way to get to him. That leaves only you, Mr. Sanchez and you, Mr. Larabee. While, we can't rule you out yet, Mr. Sanchez, I believe, that Mr. Larabee is most likely the intended target."
"Folsom Prison; fourteen years ago; and knows police procedure;" Nathan reiterated the clues they had.
Chris had been listening silently, but suddenly he looked up sharply. "I know who the son of a bitch is!" he declared. "And you do too, Buck. George Sanders."
"Sanders!" Buck exclaimed and let out a whistle. "Yep, he's just the kind of sick son of a bitch would do something like this."
"Care to elaborate, brothers?" Sanchez suggested.
"A dirty cop Chris took down fourteen years ago. But he wasn't just dirty. He was one sick freak. He liked hookers, but he wasn't always gentle with ‘em if you know what I mean," Buck informed them.
The other's did indeed know what he meant. They'd all seen some of the things men did to the women who made their living on the streets.
"Anyway, we couldn't nail him for them, because the witnesses all conveniently left town, but Chris got him for taking bribes and extortion. He went to Folsom Prison."
"Seems like we know who our man is, now all we have to do is find him," Nathan said.
"JD, get back online and find out everything you can for us," Chris ordered. "Buck, see what you can find in our own files. I'm going to call the FBI. The rest of you, start calling in favors and anything else you can think of."
The office exploded into activity, as the six men set about with the first real hope they'd had, since Vin had disappeared.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"DAMMIT!"
The five agents in the bullpen exchanged uneasy glances, when they heard Chris's angry curse followed by the sound of the telephone receiver being slammed home. The fact that they could hear it clearly through his closed office door, did not bode well.
The door flew open and Larabee appeared shaking his head angrily. "We're on our own boys," he announced in short clipped tones, that didn't leave any doubt as to how furious he was. The FBI in classic bureaucratic style has added George Sanders to the suspect list. They'll investigate him thoroughly, just as soon as they finish running down the other leads they have."
"WHAT!?" JD questioned incredulously. "By then, Vin might be -"
"We'll just have to find him ourselves then," Buck interjected smoothly, the look he shot the kid warning him not to say another word.
"Easy Chris," Josiah said softly and put a warning hand on Larabee's shoulder. "If we're going to find Vin, we've got to keep our wits about us - - and our tempers in check."
The blond looked as though he was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Instead he took a deep breath and then asked as professionally as possible. "Alright, what's the next step?
"Gentlemen, I believe I may have an idea."
All eyes turned towards the debonair undercover agent.
THE NEXT DAY
"Time for another shot, Vin. You don't mind if I call you Vin do you?" George Sanders asked cheerfully and smiled broadly, as he reached down and grabbed the sharpshooter's arm.Vin looked up in confusion and tried to figure out what was going on and where he was. If only the fog that seemed to shroud his brain would lift. The sharpshooter was sure he knew the man, but he just couldn't seem to remember where he knew him from. Suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his arm and then nothing.
"Almost time, Tanner. Almost time," Sanders looked down at the unconscious man, his face cold and hard, his voice without a trace of the cheeriness from just moments ago.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
They all stared at the envelope, their hearts nearly pounding out of their chests. Would this one contain the picture where Vin's lifeless eyes stared up at them?
Nathan picked it up gingerly and looked to Chris. The blond nodded, giving the black agent silent permission. Jackson dumped the contents and saw that there was another Polaroid photo, and the medic alert medallion, he himself had given the sharpshooter, when they discovered that he was allergic to penicillin.
The photo had landed face down and Nathan flipped it over with some trepidation. It was Vin and he was clearly alive and sighs of relief emanated from the agents.
Chris picked the picture up by a corner and studied it closely. He couldn't be certain, with the poor quality of Polaroids, but Vin looked ill. The expression on his face was one of bewilderment, and Larabee was almost certain, pain.
"He's alive, Chris. You've got to hang onto that," Buck spoke comfortingly.
"For how long?" Larabee demanded bitterly.
"Chris, come on, let's take a walk. Get out of here for a while," the mustached agent suggested.
"I don't want to take a damn walk!" Chris replied angrily.
"You've got to - -" Buck tried again.
"Just back off, Buck!" Chris shouted angrily.
"Chris, you gotta take a break. You're not gonna be any good to Vin or to yourself, if you drop from exhaustion," the mustached agent said calmly.
Chris glared at him, but Buck didn't give an inch. Finally Chris broke eye contact and stalked to his office. He came back out with his jacket a few minutes later.
"I'm going to lunch," Larabee stated fiercely, his expression daring any of them to so much as smile.
"You want some company?" Josiah offered softly.
The fierce expression on Chris's face dissolved, leaving only tired concern there when he answered. "No thanks, think I'd rather have some time to myself."
The others exchanged worried glances and Chris smiled in spite of the gravity of the situation. "Really, I'm just going to walk to the saloon and get a burger," the senior agent reassured his team, and left the office.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Twenty minutes later, Chris sat in a dimly lit booth inside the saloon, sipping a coke and waiting for Inez to bring his food. An eerie feeling of being watched swept over him and he anxiously scanned the recesses of the saloon, eyes searching for anyone out of place. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, and Chris dismissed the feeling as nerves and worry about Vin.
"Senor Chris?" Inez's warm brown eyes peered at Chris's in concern. "Are you alright?" she questioned solicitously.
"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine, just worried about Vin," Chris replied tiredly.
"You'll find him, Senor, you must have faith," Inez said sincerely, with a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. "Oh, this was left behind the bar for you," she added and handed him a neatly folded square of white paper.
Chris took it with shaking hands and thanked her quietly. He sat staring at the note for several minutes. This is it, he thought and took a deep breath and unfolded the paper.
"Meet me in the alley, if you want Tanner alive."
"Showtime," Chris said softly and headed for the rear exit of the saloon.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"You sure that thing's workin', JD?" Buck inquired from the driver's seat of the van for the third time in the last half hour.
"Yeah Buck, everything's working fine," the young agent replied exasperatedly, without taking his eyes off of the monitor. "Chris just said ‘Showtime'. The guy musta made contact. We'll know soon enough, if it worked."
"OK, kid. I know you know what'cher doin'. It's just that - -" Buck's voice trailed off, and JD finished.
"It's just that, it's Chris and Vin's lives at stake. I know, Buck. I know."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Larabee cautiously opened the rear door of the saloon. Peering around, he saw nothing but an empty alley. He waited a few moments, but no one appeared. "Damn. Looks like he's not going to show up boys," the blond agent said into the mike hidden in his collar. "I'm going back inside. Maybe he's in there."
Chris grabbed hold of the door, when all of a sudden a sharp force in his back propelled him forward. He fell stunned against the door, before sliding to the ground. His first thought was that he had been shot. No, I've been stunned he realized. Stunned with a taser. This must be how he grabbed Vin, Chris thought frantically, as he struggled to get his body under control.
At that moment, he felt his body rolled over onto his back and George Sanders crouched over him, grinning evilly.
"Shhhh," Sanders indicated with a finger over his lips. The ex con hurriedly searched Chris's body and clothing, until he found the wire hidden in the agent's shirt. Carefully removing it, so that the tiny battery stayed connected to the listening device, Sanders laid it on the ground near the rear door of the saloon.
He quickly departed and within minutes, he had pulled an old conversion van up to the rear door of the saloon. Chris was still on his back, trying desperately to regain control of his extremities. Hastily, Sanders slid the side door open and manhandled Chris's floundering form inside. The minute he had the blond agent on the floor of the van, Sanders handcuffed his arms behind his back and then shackled his ankles, in the same manner as he had Vin.
He met Chris's eyes, with a satisfied smirk. "What's the matter, Larabee?" he gloated. "Something go wrong with your plan? By the time those bumbling fools realize you're not on the other end of that wire, we'll be long gone." With that, he slammed the door shut and reentered the driver's seat.
Leisurely, he exited the alley, and drove past Buck Wilmington sitting in the front seat of an ATF surveillance van. Grinning, he waved surreptitiously at the agent as he drove past.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"It's working fine Buck," JD answered, before Wilmington could ask. They had known Sanders would look for a wire and so they'd given him one. But they'd also hidden a tiny tracking device in Chris's shoe. And the device was emitting a satisfying red signal on the grid that JD was monitoring.
"He's moving," Nathan's voice crackled through the speaker phone. We're on ‘im."
"Worked like a charm," Josiah's voice chimed in. "Looks like he's heading for the warehouse district."
"Don't lose them, whatever you do," Buck ordered tersely, knowing that it was unnecessary.
"Mr. Wilmington, whatever else we may do today, losing Mr. Larabee and the vermin driving that van will not be part of it."
"I hope you're right, Ez," Buck said and pulled his own van out into the traffic.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chris woke to a pounding headache. He tried to massage his aching temples, but his hands came up short. When the blond agent managed to get his eyes open, he realized that it was because his hands were shackled to the wall with a chain. He was lying on the floor facing a wall of cinder blocks. The room was damp and now that he was awake he could feel the cold seeping through his clothes.
Chris slowly sat up and turned so that he was leaning against the wall. As he turned he was shocked at what he saw at the far end of the room. Vin lay curled into a ball and shivering on a threadbare mattress on the cement floor with only his boxers on.
Larabee could see the shackles around his ankles and the raw flesh underneath. Vin's dirty hair obscured his face. Chris moved towards him and cursed when the chains brought him up short again.
"Vin," Chris called. "Vin!"
Chris saw him jerk when he called his name loudly. He was relieved when he saw one of Vin's blue eyes peering at him through his tangled hair.
"Its OK Vin," Chris said softly. "I'll get you out of here."
"No!" Vin cried. "Stay away from me!"
"Easy Vin," Chris said soothingly.
"Don't touch me!" Vin cried sitting up and backing away from Chris. "Why are you doing this?"
"Vin," Chris said reaching out his hand. "It's me Chris."
"Why are you keeping me here?" Vin asked in a pitiful voice. "What do you want from me?"
As he sat on the cold floor, staring at his best friend, Chris realized that Vin thought he was Sanders. On closer examination of the room Larabee could see there was only the one door and no windows. The cold seeping through the cinder blocks was making him shiver and he guessed Vin was even colder. The illumination from the single light bulb high in the ceiling left a lot to be desired. Chris turned his attention back to Vin.
"Vin," Chris said reaching out his hand. "Don't worry I'll get you out of here."
"Don't touch me!!!" Vin tried to scream, but it came out as a hoarse croak.
Vin didn't want this man touching him any more. He just wanted to go home. Maybe if he was really quiet he'd go away.
Chris watched, as Vin seemed to fold in on himself and get really quiet. At first he thought that the sharpshooter had passed out, until he noticed his eyes were open and staring. Chris cursed and moved back.
"Sanders, you bastard!" Chris screamed. "What did you do to him!"
"Temper, Temper," Sanders said from a small opening in the door. "I do believe you've frightened him."
Chris glanced towards Vin and saw he was rocking from side to side. Vin had his arms covering his face and Chris could hear his rapid breathing. Chris stood and walked towards the door. The chains didn't let him get far.
"Its me you want," Chris said. "Let him go."
"But I've had such fun with him," Sanders laughed. "I think I'll keep both of you."
Chris cursed again as Sanders walked away. Chris slumped back down against the wall. He didn't say anything and Vin slowly began to relax. Tanner's eyes were open and staring dully back at him, without a hint of recognition. Sighing, the blond leaned his head against the wall. He only hoped the rest of the team got here soon.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Looks like they're holed up in that warehouse over there," JD pointed out to the others. He and Buck had pulled up behind the van the others were in and Nathan, Josiah, and Ezra had joined them in their van.
"No question," Nathan affirmed, reading the signal. "We saw ‘em go in and the signal stopped moving. OK, time to call in the big boys."
"We need to watch the rear of the building, until they get here," Josiah reminded them.
"Right. Josiah, JD and I will take the front, you guys cover the back. Nobody moves in, until backup gets here," Buck instructed.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Vin seemed to have fallen asleep and the older man studied his teammate. The Texan was filthy and he looked ill, but other than a few bruises on his face and torso, he seemed unharmed.
"Hang on cowboy, calvary's on the way," Chris said quietly, unsure if his best friend could hear him, or even understand him.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"FBI's on the way," Ezra informed Buck through the cell phone.
"Give you a lot of grief?" Buck questioned, keeping one eye on the rear entrance of the warehouse.
"Let's just say that AD Travis and Agent Larabee have an interesting appointment when this is over," the undercover agent said with a grimace.
"Glad I ain't the one in charge of this," Buck replied and turned to JD. "Calvary's on the way, kid," he briefed his partner, unknowingly echoing Chris's words to Vin.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
JD waited with Buck for the signal to move in. When the cavalry arrived, in the form of the FBI team assigned to find Vin they weren't happy.
The team leader read Buck the riot act about his interference. The two agents were on the verge of coming to physical blows, when Josiah imposed his body between them and reminded them of why they were there.
"Your energies might be best focused on the problem at hand, brothers."
The two agents had the good grace to flush guiltily, before they shook hands and got down to business.
Just then, Nathan and Ezra arrived then, having been replaced at the rear of the building by an FBI team.
Plans were quickly made as JD checked to make sure Chris was still in the same spot. When he confirmed Chris hadn't moved they were assigned an area to enter the building. Buck gave the FBI team pictures of Sanders so they would know what he looked like.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
The only thing left to do, was to wait for the signal to move in. JD was fidgeting nervously. Every minute that they waited, Sanders could be hurting Chris or Vin. Or worse. The kid shifted again, at that thought.
"Sit still kid," Buck scolded in a whisper.
"Damn Buck they waited much longer and he's going to get away," JD
protested.
"I have to agree with Agent Dunne's assessment," Ezra said.
Buck felt them same way they did. If the FBI didn't give him the go ahead soon he was going to take Team Seven in on his own and the consequences be damned. Just as Buck was deciding if they should go in or not the signal was given for them to move in. JD flashed Buck a smile as Ezra rolled his eyes.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
The FBI team was handling the back of the warehouse and Team Seven, the front. They went through the door and moved cautiously into the corridor.
"We're in," Buck said softly into his transmitter. "We're splitting up now. Out."
It had been decided Nathan and Josiah would make their way to where Chris was hoping Vin
would be there also. Nathan carried a hand held receiver. A tiny red light blinked repeatedly, indicating what they hoped was Chris's position. Josiah had a pair of bolt cutters, since they knew that Vin was shackled.
Ezra moved cautiously along the left-hand wall with his gun drawn. Buck and JD were moving along the right. When they came to a closed door Ezra signaled that he would open it and Buck nodded. Ezra pulled the door open and Buck and JD moved quickly inside fanning out. When they were sure it was empty the kept moving
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Josiah and Nathan made their way as carefully and as quickly, as they could to the basement. Once downstairs they moved along the hallway until they came to a steel door. The door was bolted from the outside and had a small window at the top. Josiah peered inside to find Chris sitting on the floor and Vin curled on a filthy mattress against the far wall. Josiah nodded to Nathan and he pushed the bolt back. They opened the door to find Chris standing protectively in front of Vin.
"About time you got here," Chris growled. "They catch Sanders yet?"
"Not yet," Nathan answered, dropping to his knees beside Vin.
"Damn, can you get me out of these?" Chris said holding up his manacled wrists.
"As a matter of fact I can," Josiah said as he held up the bolt cutters. "We knew Vin was chained so I brought them along."
"Nathan give me your gun," Chris said as Josiah cut the chains and the wrist manacles.
"We called in the FBI team assigned to Vin's case," Nathan said handing over his gun and communications equipment. "Be careful."
"Take care of Vin," Chris said. "I'm going after this bastard."
They watched as Chris checked the hall before leaving the room. Josiah handed the black agent the bolt cutters and positioned himself by the door, Nathan hastily cut the chain that shackled Vin's ankle to the wall. The loud clank of the chain dropping to the cement floor, woke Vin and he panicked.
"No! Stay away from me!" he rasped out in a hoarse whisper, as he moved away from Nathan. His frightened eyes stared unfocused at his team mate.
"Easy Vin it's alright," Nathan said holding up his hands.
Vin didn't know who this person was, but he did know he wanted out of this room. He tried to bolt for the door, but in his weakened state, he was barely able to totter a step, before Josiah's strong arms wrapped around him.
"NO!" Vin's voice was painfully weak, as he struggled against the arms holding him. Suddenly, his body went limp and he slumped unconscious in Josiah's arms.
"Put him down here, quick," Nathan instructed. The ex medic quickly cut the manacles on Vin's wrists. He threw them onto the floor and gave the Texan a hasty once over.
"Damn!" he cursed, and held up Vin's arm to show Josiah the needle marks he found.
Jackson pulled off his ATF jacket and laid it over Vin's upper body. Without a word, Josiah handed Nathan his own jacket and it was quickly tucked around Vin's lower torso and his thighs.
Nathan stood up wearily and turned troubled eyes to Josiah. "He's cold and I don't think he's had much to eat or drink. He's got a few bruises, but it doesn't look like he's hurt too bad. I just wish we knew what Sanders injected him with."
Josiah laid a hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. Suddenly, he motioned to silence. He nodded his head towards the door and Nathan tensed, wishing he had the gun he'd given to Chris. They stood side by side, in front of Vin. Josiah's gun was pointed towards the door. Whatever happened, they determined in an unspoken agreement, Sanders would not get near Vin again.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Larabee moved silently through the warehouse. A sudden noise off to his right, behind a door caught his attention and he crept towards it. His heart was pounding in his chest, as he kicked the door open and aimed his gun at the center of the doorway. "Freeze!" he demanded harshly, of the figure standing directly in front of him, holding a gun.
"Chris, it's me, Buck!" Wilmington called softly and froze instantly.
It took a few seconds for Buck's words and face to penetrate Chris's consciousness. Finally, he lowered his gun and relaxed visibly. "Damn, Buck!" he exclaimed and shook his head in relief. "Nate and Josiah are with Vin. The basement's clear."
"As is the first floor," Ezra informed them, as he joined them.
"He's either on the second floor or the third floor then," JD offered.
"Wilmington here, basement and ground floor are secure," Buck informed the FBI agent on the other end of his transmitter. "Got it. Out," he finished. "FBI's gonna take the second floor and we're gonna take the third floor," he told the rest of the team.
"Let's go," Chris instructed.
They entered the stairwell, passing by two FBI agents stationed there, to make sure Sanders did not come back down the way he came.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"FBI!"
Josiah and Nathan heard the agent call as the steel door was flung open. Josiah kept his gun trained on the door, until a face that wasn't Sanders appeared in the doorway.
"ATF!" Nathan quickly called and Josiah lowered his weapon. "Get an ambulance!" Jackson demanded and was gratified to hear the FBI agent call in, requesting paramedics.
"We ran into your boss, while we were checking this floor," the agent informed them. "He told us you were here. There's no sign of Sanders down here."
Both ATF agents said a silent prayer of thanks, as they waited for the paramedics and news of their team.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
George Sanders silently cursed Larabee and his team. He'd worked and planned for so long for his revenge and they'd taken it away from him! Silently he made his way towards the fire escape. If he could just get out of the building, he'd slip away and be free to return later. This time, he'd kill Tanner, right in front of Larabee. And then he'd kill the man who'd ruined his life. He just had to make it to the other end of this hall and into the room where the window led to freedom.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Larabee and Standish took the left and JD and Buck went to the right, at the top of the stairs. Offices ringed the cavernous open space in the center of the building. They'd circle the hall, checking each room before they met at the stairwell dead opposite of the one they'd just exited.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Sanders peered out of the office door, that he was hiding behind. LARABEE! The man was there 30 feet away and heading towards him. The fugitive looked out of the window and saw the FBI agents milling around below. There was no escape. A sneer formed on his face. The least he could do, was take Larabee with him.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chris and Ezra checked the next office methodically. Nothing. Larabee moved to the next door, and Ezra followed him. A small sound from the room they'd just cleared, caught the southerner's attention, but at that moment, Chris threw the door of the office he was ready to check open and Ezra turned back to his team leader. He started to follow Chris inside, when another tiny sound caught his attention again. "Chris," he called and headed back for the room they'd just checked.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Sanders laughed silently to himself, as the two agents left the office he was hiding in. He waited for the soft snick of the door closing, before he noiselessly lifted the ceiling panel and lowered himself to the floor. He saw the door knob turn and quickly secreted himself behind the door.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ezra warily opened the office door. He flipped the light switch on and stepped into the room and looked around. Nothing. Just my overactive imagination, he thought and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to leave, he barely had time to register the dark form coming at him, when blackness overtook him.
Sanders used the pistol he was holding as a club and brought it down hard on Ezra Standish's head.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chris had entered the next office, when he realized that the undercover agent wasn't behind him. "Ezra," he softly and froze, waiting for the undercover agent to answer. He waited a few seconds and pivoted, only to stop short, when he found himself face to face with George Sanders. His eyes flickered to the hallway outside of the door. Where was Ezra?
"He's not coming," Sanders replied with a smirk.
"You can't get out," Chris advised him. "Your only chance is to give yourself up, now."
"So, I can send the rest of my life in prison? No thanks," Sanders replied coldly. "The only thing I care about now, is making sure that you go with me. You're going to die, Larabee."
Chris Larabee stared coolly at Sanders as he cocked the cocked the hammer on the gun. The ATF agent was determined that he wouldn't give the scum the satisfaction of seeing the fear he felt.
"See you in hell!" Sanders said cockily and pulled the trigger.
Chris tensed waiting for the bullet, but it didn't come. Both men stared at the gun in shock for a millisecond, before they reacted. Larabee rushed forward and the two men began a death struggle for control of the gun. Sanders struggled to pull the trigger on the gun, and Chris fought to turn the gun away from him.
A loud retort shocked both of them and they stared at one another for a tense second, before Sanders turned away and stumbled out of the door, unseeing. He fell heavily against the wooden railing that circumvented the hallway and his momentum carried him over the edge before Chris could reach him.
The blond stared down at the dead man for a second, before he turned to search for Ezra. The southerner's feet protruded from the open door of the office, where he was sprawled face down. His heart pounding, Chris turned him over.
"I need an ambulance," he screamed into the mike he'd borrowed from Nathan.
"Sanders?" Team Seven's leader heard his undercover agent whisper and he sagged with relief.
"Dead," Larabee answered succinctly. "It's over."
JD and Buck charged around the corner of the hallway and stopped at their feet. The worry on their faces gave way to intense relief when Ezra moaned softly.
EPILOGUE:
"Agent Larabee?" a tall figure in green scrubs called, looking uncertainly around the room. Immediately five men clad in black jackets emblazoned with ATF crowded around."Give the man some room guys," an imposing blond ordered.
They immediately retreated a few feet. He could, however, still read the anxiety that was written all over their faces.
"I'm Chris Larabee," the blond introduced himself. "This is the rest of my team." Chris gestured to the four men. "How are my men, Tanner and Standish?"
"I'm Dr. Andrews. I'm sorry I don't have any information on Agent Tanner," the doctor replied, "but Agent Standish has a slight concussion. I'm going to admit him overnight for observation. It's pretty much SOP for this type of injury."
"Can we see him?" Chris asked, worry underlying the question.
"As soon as he's settled in his room. I'll have the nurse page you when he can have visitors," Dr Andrews said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, the ER is crammed to overflowing. Must be a full moon or something." Without another word, the doctor shouldered his way through the doors leading to the trauma unit.
"That's good news about Ezra," JD offered trying to break the silence that descended on the group.
"It is that," Josiah agreed. With a clasp of his hand to the young agent's shoulder, he moved back to his seat to wait for news of Vin.
Buck circled the waiting room impatiently; stopping occasionally to stare at the doors leading to the ER. Try as he might, he couldn't will them to open and produce Vin's doctor.
"I'm going to check with the receptionist. Maybe she'll know something this time." Nathan strode out of the small area heading in the direction of the reception desk and the harried clerk vainly trying to keep the chaos of the trauma unit under control.
"That's the sixth time he's gone in two hours." JD's comment drifted over the silent men.
Larabee didn't answer just continued staring at off into space. Tension emanated from every pore in his body. He hated hospital vigils.
After some time, Nathan returned to the room.
"It's gonna be awhile before we get any information on Vin. They still don't know what Sanders used to drug him. I ran into Banks, the lead agent with the FBI team. They found several vials and syringes at the site. The state lab's analyzing them now to be sure that what's on the label is
what's in the vial. Heard they dragged some poor chemist from his bed to get it done," the medic informed them.
His voice cheered considerably when he added, "The good news, is that we can see Ezra. He's in room 242. The receptionist will page Chris if there's any word on Vin."
"Let's go," and "Lead the way," rang out as Team Seven left the waiting room.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Gentlemen, either come in or stay outside, but whichever you choose to do, please do it quietly," Ezra admonished his teammates from behind the gel pack that covered half his face.
"How'd you know it was us?" JD asked curiously.
"The distinctively different sounds of the footwear you gentlemen wear gave you away," Standish informed him. "And, that obnoxious cologne of Mr. Wilmington's," he added.
Much to Buck's chagrin, the others all laughed. Ezra tried to join them, but was forced to stop with a groan when the throbbing ache in his head worsened.
"How's Vin?" he asked, his tone serious as he slid the ice pack from his face.
"No word yet," Nathan told him. "They're still working on him."
Before Ezra could question him further, he was interrupted by the hospital's intercom system.
"Chris Larabee to the ER."
"Go," Ezra said simply gesturing towards the door. He slowly pulled the ice pack up to cover the bruise on his forehead. Josiah squeezed his forearm slightly before following the others out of the room.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
A tall young man, dressed in turquoise hospital scrubs, was waiting for the group at the Nurse's station in the ER.
"Agent Larabee, I'm Dr. Landry, I don't know if you remember me, but I treated Agent Tanner once before," the doctor introduced himself.
"I remember you, Doctor," Chris acknowledged. "How's Vin?"
"Lucky," the doctor stated. "We're fortunate. Based on the labels from the vials found with Mr. Tanner and the little he's been able to tell us and some classic behavior patterns, we've been able to narrow down what he was dosed with. Ketamine hydrochloride."
The announcement was greeted with five blank stares.
With a tired smile, Landry continued. "It's a dissociative anesthetic. Unfortunately, when administered improperly, it's associated with severe adverse reactions. These include but aren't limited to violent and irrational responses to stimuli, disagreeable dreams, hallucinations."
Landry paused to take a breath before continuing. "Normally, ketamine would be administered with diazepam to reduce the side effects. Mr. Tanner wasn't so lucky. It is possible that he will experience these unpleasant occurrences for days, even weeks, to come. The good news is the adverse events should decrease in time and there won't be any permanent effects. We're also treating him for exposure and dehydration. Fortunately, he's young and healthy, and he should bounce back relatively quickly."
Thanks doctor," Chris said gratefully. "Can we see him?"
"Yes," Dr. Landry replied. "But, he needs his rest, so don't stay too long."
With that, the doctor shook the extended hands of the Team Seven members and turned towards the nurses station and the piles of paperwork.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Vin groaned and covered his eyes against the bright light that assaulted him as he awoke. Every muscle in his body ached. Slowly, he moved his hand away and as he rapidly blinked his stinging eyes, he realized that the light had dimmed.
He tensed, fear that whoever had done this to him was back to dish out more misery. It took him a second before he realized that Chris and the rest of the team were standing beside his bed.
His bed?
No, not his bed. A hospital bed. There was no mistaking that antiseptic smell that pervaded hospitals everywhere. He was in the hospital and the others were with him. What had happened? How had he gotten here. Wait, something wasn't right! Vin shook his head bring one hand up to rub his tired eyes. He blinked stupidly at the IV line taped to his wrist. Desperately, trying to clear away the cobwebs, Vin studied the room trying to figure out what was wrong.
EZRA! Where was Ezra?
He tried to ask the question but he couldn't seem to make any sound come out. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Nathan.
"Take it easy, Vin," the black agent said softly and reached back to take the glass of water Josiah poured from the small pitcher on the table. He lifted Vin's head slightly, with a gentle hand behind the long haired man's head and then he held the glass up so that Vin could take a few small sip from the straw. Easing Vin's head back onto the pillows, Jackson handed the glass back to Josiah.
"How you feelin' Vin?" JD asked in a concerned voice, unable to contain himself any longer.
"OK," the sharpshooter rasped out and then turned and searched the room with his eyes again. No, Ezra wasn't there.
"Ezra?" he asked hoarsely.
"He's OK, just had a little disagreement with the butt of a gun. He's got a pretty big headache, but he'll be back to comin' up with bad excuses for bein' late to work in no time." Buck smiled and winked at the younger agent.
Vin nodded in relief and yawned immediately. "What happened?" His words were slightly slurred, as he fought the effects of the medication from the IV and his own exhaustion.
"We found your Stalker, Vin." Josiah spoke up from where he was standing at the foot of the bed.
"Yeah, it was great. We really pulled a number on that guy. He never knew what hit him." JD broke in.
"Not so great when the FBI AD meets with Chris and AD Travis next week." Nathan intoned solemnly.
"Yeah, maybe Ezra should attend that meeting. It'll be character building, for sure," Buck said with a grin and winked at Vin.
Vin just stared at the group, confusion evident on his face as he tried to follow the indecipherable conversation taking place above him. He glanced at Chris, silently pleading for rescue.
Chris caught Buck's eyes and nodded slightly towards the door. The big man smiled and gave Vin's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Hey fellas," he suggested. "Why don't we let Sleeping Beauty here get some sleep."
Wilmington pointed to Vin, who was obviously struggling to stay awake. The sharpshooter tried to scowl at him, but had to yawn instead.
"Well Vin I'm going to head down to Ezra's room and let him know you're alright," Josiah said. "You take it easy."
"Think I'll go with Josiah," Nathan said. "Somebody's gotta make sure Ezra isn't giving the nurses a hard time."
"Alright," Vin smiled weakly and watched as they left the room.
"Speaking of nurses," Buck said wiggling his eyebrows. "There's a cute little filly on this floor that I want to get to know better. You do what the nurses tell ya."
"I better go with Buck," JD said getting the idea. "Make sure he doesn't trip over his tongue."
Vin chuckled as Buck said he heard that and grabbed JD around the neck. Now that everyone was out of the room it just left Chris. Vin's memory was still a little fuzzy about what happened but something was bothering Chris. He heard someone mentioned that Sanders knew Chris. He figured Chris must have been blaming himself for what happened.
"Weren't your fault Chris," Vin said.
"If Sanders hadn't wanted revenge on me, none of this would have happened," Chris said as he stood next to the bed. "He chose you because you are my friend."
"So you saying you don't want me as a friend," Vin said. "That way I can't be hurt?"
"That's not what I'm saying," Chris said shaking his head.
"Good," Vin said with a yawn. "Cause I ain't leavin' and you can't make me not be your friend. Stuff happens, Chris."
"Yeah it does," Chris admitted with a tired smile.
"Just do me a favor," Vin said.
"Anything."
"Next time someone wants revenge make sure they know Buck's your friend too," Vin said as he closed his eyes.
Chris smiled as he watched Vin drift back to sleep. He took a seat and leaned back thinking it was good to have friends.
THE END
Song |
Artist |
|
| Every Breath You Take |
|
The Police |
| Rainbow Ride |
|
Charlie Daniels |
| Valentine |
|
Martina McBride |
| Shake the Sugar Tree |
|
Pam Tillis |
| Drive Me Wild |
|
Sawyer Brown |
| Can't Buy Me Love |
|
The Beatles |
| Photographs and Memories |
|
Jim Croce |
| Little Goodbyes |
|
SheDaisy |
| Jose Cuervo |
|
Shelley West |
| Sweet Child o' Mine |
|
Guns n Roses |
| I'm Looking For Blue Eyes |
|
Jessi Colter |
| Fourteen Years |
|
Guns n Roses |
| Folsom Prison Blues |
|
Johnny Cash |