DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, just like to play with them!! The characters from the television program The Magnificent Seven are the property of Trilogy and The Mirisch Co. I am making no money from their use. This Story is created for entertainment purposes only, no infringement intended. Thanks also to MOG for creating the ATF sandbox for me to play in. Not to be copied without permission from the author.
RATINGS: PG - violence, mild language
WARNING: This Story contains an alternative Universe theme, if this type of story is not to your liking or will somehow offend you please delete this mail immediately and do not read any further. Furthermore this story contain semi graphic images of a violent nature, if you feel this may disturb you please find a different story that you will enjoy.
Part 2
Vin opened one eye and groaned. Lord, but his head hurt! He tried to move and couldn’t. He forced his one open eye to focus, taking in his surroundings, interpreting what he could see through the blurry haze of his vision. The more alert he became the more pain he felt. He could also feel cold air and yet there was something warm on his left leg, his face and arms. His left hand lay in his lap and he forced the fingers to move, to find out what the warm stuff was. When his fingers registered wetness he knew it was blood. At the same time the nerve endings in his leg awoke and Vin felt nauseating pain from his shattered limb.
Vin knew that if he didn’t do something, soon, he would surely bleed to death. He remembered being rammed by the SUV, seeing Becker in the driver’s seat, felt the sensation of tumbling down the mountainside trapped in his Jeep. He knew that there would be little chance of help. The road above him was undoubtedly impassable by now and it wasn’t heavily traveled on a good day.
Becker was the reason he was on this road in the first place. Becker and Roberts. Vin and Ezra Standish had been on a case, a sting operation, undercover. The sting had gone very badly and Becker’s older brother had been killed. The younger Becker had sworn revenge.
When Becker and Roberts had made bail the following day, Vin’s immediate superior, Chris Larabee, had ordered both Vin and Ezra to disappear to one of their safe houses for awhile. So, despite storm warnings, he had headed out for his cabin and Ezra had gone off to his condo in the suburbs.
Vin tried to take stock of his injuries. His left leg was obvious, broken and bleeding for some reason. Compound fracture or just broken and cut? He felt blood running down his left arm, but he seemed to be able to move it. He couldn’t open his left eye and his face felt like it was on fire. His chest and right arm hurt. He could move the arm at the shoulder and somewhat at the elbow with a great deal of concentration, but his fingers refused to cooperate and they, too, were covered in blood. His right leg seemed all right, as near as he could tell.
He felt the cold creeping over him and knew he had to do something, now, or never do a thing again. He tried to remember where the nearest house was along the road. It had to be at least two miles down. But that was the only chance he had. He would have to find a way to make it to that house. And if there was no one there? Well at least he could break in and get warm, maybe find some medical supplies until he could find a way to get further down the mountain. His mind was foggy enough that he didn’t even think of the cell phone in his coat pocket.
Vin tried to release the shoulder harness, but his right hand still refused to work. He received tiny daggers of pain traveling up his arm for trying. He reached across his aching chest and used his left hand, the blood-covered fingers slipping off the latch several times before finally managing to push the release button. He shrugged free of the harness and pushed his left shoulder against the door. There was resistance and a sudden release, causing his upper body to fall headfirst out the opening and into the snow, his left leg twisting painfully as both legs remained in the vehicle. With a scream, he used his right leg to push himself free of the wreckage that was once his beloved Jeep.
He lay in the snow trying to gather his strength as more of the heavy white flakes fell upon him. He tried to sit up, but the broken ribs in his chest gave him pause once more. His limited vision began to swim and he collapsed back into the snow. His world faded to black.
The big man moved forward and knelt by the young man. He removed the heavy glove he wore and reached out, feeling for a pulse. He placed the glove back on his hand, then slid one arm behind the injured man’s back and another under his legs and lifted him effortlessly. Then he carried him up the mountainside and into the woods.
Up on the road, Becker cursed. Tanner was still alive and he had help. Well he wouldn’t be alive for long.
Chris Larabee knelt by his undercover agent. Ezra Standish was propped against the wall of his condo, his knees pulled up, his elbow against one knee, holding a handkerchief to the bleeding wound just inside his hairline. A small Derringer dangled from the fingers of his other hand. Chris gently extracted the gun from the man’s hand.
“Ambulance is here, Ezra.” Chris said softly.
“It would be greatly appreciated if you would not talk quite so loudly Mister Larabee. And I would prefer not to ride in one of those gawd-awful vehicles with the obnoxious lights and extremely loud sirens, if you don’t mind.” Even a crack on the head wasn’t enough to dampen Ezra’s notorious vocabulary.
“Well, I’m afraid I’m going to pull rank on you about that one Pard.” Chris linked one arm under Ezra’s elbow and helped the man to stand. When the undercover agent and con man started to sway, Chris grabbed hold tighter and walked him the few steps over to the waiting gurney.
“Any word yet on our compatriot, Mister Tanner?” the man asked as the paramedics helped him onto the gurney and strapped him down. Chris glanced over at JD Dunne, who shook his head even as dialed Vin’s cell phone once again.
“No, not yet Ezra. But you know Vin, he’s probably holed up at his cabin by now and ain’t nobody gonna find him there.”
“I sincerely hope you are right Mister Larabee.” Ezra replied. Chris motioned to the paramedics to take him away.
“I want full security around him. Starting now.” Chris told the police officers that had arrived at the scene. Then he turned and moved over to where his remaining men had gathered.
“What are the road conditions?”
“Interstates are clear of snow, but icy as hell. No chance of getting anywhere on the roads leading up to his place just yet.” Buck Wilmington replied. The big man looked down at his feet, then back up into Chris’ stormy eyes. “But I pulled a few strings. There will be a plow and sand truck heading up that way within the hour. We can follow them up.”
“Good job. Let’s go.” Chris cast one last glance at the body of John Roberts. If Roberts was here then Becker had gone after Vin.
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