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Chapter 1

The dark haired man bending over the keyboard was typing furiously, his fingers skimming over the keys with amazing accuracy. With his thoughts on his task he wasn't aware of the fact that he would either chew on this mustache or his lips would mouth what he was typing and every other word that was put into print was murmured. The light tapping on the keys continued for only a moment when the lazy smile started to form and slowly spread across his face. "Yes, I'm done" he said to himself, at least he thought he said it to himself, but a soft chuckle to his right made him look up.

Vin Tanner the long haired sniper for team seven was standing next to Buck's desk. In his usual Texas draw Tanner asked," Whatcha you mumbling about now Buck?"

The blued eyed scoundrel hit the print key then said, "I just finished my report on the Resnick case. Do you realize how long I've been working on that! Damn, it feels good to write, CASE CLOSED." Leaning towards his right he retrieved the printed pages.

Buck scanned his report then looked up at Vin. He noticed the mischievous twinkle in the Texan's blue eyes and the sly grin spreading across his handsome face. He'd seen that look before on the young man and it always meant that trouble was around the corner.

Buck's curiosity getting the best of him had to ask, "How come you're standing around doing nothing; you up to something Junior?"

"There ya go again, Buck, you and that suspicious mind of yours." Shaking his curly locks he continued, "don'tcha know, I leave all that practical joke stuff up to you."

Buck couldn't help but chuckle at Vin's obvious fib, "who in the hell are you trying to kid? I've been on the receiving end of some of your pranks." The older man proclaimed.

Pointing at himself and pasting a look of pure innocence on his face Vin said, "not me partner. You have me mistaken for someone else."

Buck stood, his height putting him a few inches above Vin. "Excuse me, who was it that glued the wheels of my chair to the floor, changed the password on my computer, took all the handles off of desk drawers and that's only this week. What are you on some kind of special quest? Let's get Buck!" Placing his hand on the sharpshooter's shoulder he turned him around so that he was facing JD's desk. Both men observed their boss, Chris Larabee, leaning over the desk of the youngest member of team seven. "You need an outlet for all those practical jokes of yours, use them on Chris."

"Hell Wilmington that's a sure fire way to end up with a bullet in me."

Buck let his eyes linger on Chris for a pregnant minute. It seems like it's been ages since he had seen him smile and even longer to hear laughter coming from him. He watched as the young Mr. Dunne was explaining something to Chris. What ever it was it must have been funny. Larabee walked away shaking his head with his lips turning up with a broad smile.

"You thing maybe JD told Chris one of his famous jokes?" Vin observed.

"Who knows Vin, but it sure is nice to get a glimpse of the old Chris I knew years ago. A few years back he used to smile like that a lot, that is before Sarah and Adam died."

Four years, he thought, it's been that many years since an enemy of Chris' tried to kill him, but instead of taking out Chris the murdering bastard killed Chris' wife Sarah and their young son Adam in a car bombing meant for him. Buck Wilmington reflected on his relationship with Chris for a moment. The friendship that they shared blossomed about twelve years ago when he met the blond back in the days when they were both serving their country. The rigorous training of the Navy Seals left little time for the men to socialize off base and they soon learned the value of relying upon each other. In no time the two men became fast friend and were inseparable during the time they spent in the Navy. After they fulfilled there obligation to their country they both ended up working in the law enforcement field. It seemed like the natural thing to do. After all the military taught them to kill with their bare hands and they had special training in the use and employment of specialty arms and weapons.

Buck remembered the day that Chris had met his future bride. Without even knowing her name Larabee announced that she was going to become his wife.
When the loving couple decided to get married Buck was honored to be their best man. Buck fondly remembered the day Adam was born. How his heart swelled with love for the little boy. He couldn't have loved this child anymore if he was his own. These were some of the happiest moments of his life. He had a family that loved him and one that he cherished more than his own life.

The day that Sarah and Adam died was the blackest period that he ever experienced. He felt as if his heart was torn from his chest. The pain, he never thought that it was possible to hurt so much. He wanted nothing more then to wallow in self-pity.

Wilmington knew that as much as he was hurting, Chris was in a much darker place. So being the friend that he was, he set aside his pain and tried to help his friend. Buck tried many times to be there for him, but Chris would have nothing to do with anything or anyone from his former life. When the blond wasn't out seeking revenge he was spending time in a bottle. There was no consoling Larabee; he was drowning in his own misery.

Chris and Buck eventually parted company, going their own separate ways. Buck would always keep his ears open for any news about Chris. He was concerned about his friend, because no one was watching his back. Larabee was starting to get a reputation as being a loner. He was constantly taking unnecessary risks on the job. The times that he was forced to work with a partner he would try his best to discourage them from wanting to team up with him. More then a few of his fellow officers said that he had a death wish.

There was a period of time when Buck lost track of Chris. He thought that maybe Larabee quit the force. No matter whom he approached, no one knew where he was. Then one spring day, there he was standing at his doorsteps with a smile on his face. Chris was there to tell him that Assistant Director Orin Travis appointed him head of his own ATF team and gave him carte blanche on who he chose as his teammates and he would consider it an honor if his former colleague and friend joined him.

Shaking himself from his reminiscing Buck smiled at Vin, "Let's go see where everybody
wants to go for lunch?"

---

Chris Larabee the stoic leader of team seven was cataloguing some case folders when Buck Wilmington barged into his office. Larabee shock his head and rolled his eyes before stating, "Buck humor me just one time and knock before you come stumping into my office."

The smiling ladies man ignored the look and said, "Hey, Chris, the boys are going to go to Inez's for lunch, you want to come with us?"

Looking up from the folder in his hands he returned, "Wish I could, but I have to meet Travis."

"What's he going to do, fix you up with a date with Mary?" Snickered Buck

"Buck, you better shut-up or I'm gone a have to shut you up," Chris spat in a low growl that would have been menacing if it wasn't for the smile he was trying to keep off his face.

"Boy, you sure are touchy about Mary," Buck teased elbowing his friend.

"This has nothing to do with Mary. Travis wants to talk about another case, I'm going to meet him and get the facts, nothing else."

"Did he give you any idea what it was about?" Wilmington's voice was suddenly serious.

"Nope, he just said to meet him at Delaney's. So if you don't mind I have to finish this before I take off."

"Delaney's…maybe I should join you." Buck replied while turning his lip up into a big smile and arching his brows.

"Get the hell out of my office now," Chris hastily returned while trying to force the man back towards the door.

Shortly after Buck left his office Chris went back to putting the files away. His thoughts turned towards Mary Travis a young widow and the daughter-in-law of Assistant Director Orin Travis. He knew he was attracted to her and the pleasure he received from her company was reassuring. On more than a few occasions he wanted to ask her to accompany him, but he couldn't get the nerve to ask her out for a date. He knew he cared for her, and her son, Billy. It just scared him to get that involved with someone again. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to take on that kind of responsibility, maybe in time, but right now he just wasn't ready to let go of Sarah.

---

Chris arrived at Delaney's only a few minutes after A.D Travis who was already sitting at their table. As he approached he could see Travis didn't look very happy, in fact he looked down right upset. Chris had a lot of respect for the older man. He was the one that gave him his life back, for that Chris would always be indebted to him.

"Sir, it's a pleasure to see you again." The tall blond proclaimed while he extended his hand to his supervisor.

Accepting the offered hand Travis returned, "Chris, it's good to see you too, but you might not feel like that after I tell you about this case I want you to investigate."

"Well, Sir, why don't you give me the facts and let me decide that myself."

"I guess that's fair. Lets order lunch and then I'll tell you what I know."

It didn't take long for the older man to fill Chris in on the new case he was going to be handling. A train transporting military hardware was robbed. Team seven and an undisclosed military investigator were given the honors of handing the official inquiry.

---

Chapter 2

With his return to Team Seven's outer office, Chris couldn't help but notice the sudden change in activities of some of the members. The fast basketball game between Vin Tanner, the team sharpshooter and JD Dunne, the computer wizard was abruptly ended when they saw their leader walk through the door. Ezra Standish, the dapper undercover agent, promptly ended the heated discussion he was having on the phone. Josiah Sanchez, the renowned profiler and Special Agent Nathan Jackson were engrossed in a computer program. Buck Wilmington, bomb specialist extraordinaire was sitting on the edge of his desk sipping a cup of coffee.

Chris approached the area where each man had a desk and trying hard not to grin, he said, "Ok ladies it's time to put your play toys away, conference room in ten minutes."

The blue eyed scoundrel set his coffee cup on his desk, stood and then walked over to his boss. He then proceeded to place his arm around Chris' shoulder asking, "How was your lunch with Travis?"

"None of your business Buck," retorted Chris while brushing Wilmington's arm aside.

"Okay, so what's the new case about?" he inquired

"I plan on giving you all the info I have once we're all together," replied Larabee. Turning towards Standish's work area he stated, "Ten minutes Ezra, don't be late."

"Mr. Larabee, since you singled me out, are you implying that I'll be tardy?" the green eyed agent asked.

Glaring at his undercover agent Larabee responded, "Ezra you've never been on time for anything in you life."

Chris turned his back on the agent before he had a chance to protest and started to walk between the methodical placed office desks. His destination, his office, his own private area. He entered his sanctuary and approached his desk. Easing his lankly frame into the over stuffed chair he leaned his head back. Looking around his hazel eyes scanned the certifications and commendations that his team was awarded over the years. His visions came to rest on a picture of his fellow teammates. He stood and took the few steps to the wall and took possession of the photo. Looking at the smiling faces he smiled back. He remembered the day the picture was taken just as clearly as if it was yesterday. They'd taken a few days off and spent the time fishing, drinking, and sharing some of themselves with each other. Secrets of the souls and demons that haunted were shared and a new family was born.

As his gaze lingered on each man he thought of what they brought to the team. Josiah Sanchez, a former preacher, the tall man was such a pillar of strength for the team. His un-shakable faith in his fellow man and his spiritual wisdom was needed to help soothe their mind and soul. Over the years each and every one of them saw and felt too much pain and sorrow, but they always knew the oldest member of their family was there to guide them.

Next his hazel eyes went to Nathan Jackson, a tall black paramedic. At one time or another they all suffered from some form of on the job injury. Some of them would probably be in an early grave if it weren't for Nathan's skilled medical training. Nathan had no qualms, about who he'd give assistance too, even a perpetrator who was trying to harm the members of his own team. His bravery was unquestionable, because too many times, way too many times he placed himself in danger to administer aid to friend or foe.

Chuckling he looked at JD Dunne, the young computer expert. Chris had to remind himself that JD was older then he looked. He remembered when the young wizard showed up at his office, eager and ready to take on the whole world. Chris turned him away; telling him that he was too young. The boy didn't quit; he kept after him, until Chris finally had to hire him just so he could shut the kid up. Now, he thanked God that JD was so persistent. All of his eagerness and energy was like a shot in the arm for the team.

Then came Ezra Standish, one of the last members to join the team. When Chris disclosed the identity of the new undercover agent more then one of the team members objected to him joining. Ezra was formerly employed by the FBI and under close scrutiny for taking bribes. Ezra invariably denied the allegation and after an extensive investigation all charges against him were dropped. Chris wasn't concerned with Standish's past, but he was impressed with Ezra's arrest record and decided to give the man a chance. There were a few times Chris thought he made a mistake in hiring the con man. In the beginning Standish was aloft and not a team player, but with time and a little patience Ezra started to gain the trust and understanding of the rest of the team.

He ran his fingers over the image of Buck. He had so much regret at how he treated him in the past. Buck was more then a friend, he was his brother. When Larabee was fighting his demons Buck was there to pick up the pieces. Too many times Wilmington walked away with another bruise. If Sarah witnessed his past behavior she would have been ashamed of him. They shared so much, the good, the bad and even the ugly he chuckled to himself. It was time to tell Buck what his friendship meant to him. It was time to embrace him, a brother who stood behind him no matter what the cost.

Last, but not least there was Vin Tanner, the longhaired sniper who was formerly a bounty hunter. Vin was chasing a bail jumper in the warehouse district when he accidentally stumbled on the stake out that Chris was in charge of. The bad guys were starting to get a little nervous and decided to go for their guns. All hell broke loose and Chris found he was looking down at the wrong end of a barrel and would have bought the farm if it weren't for Tanner. Vin's fast thinking and expert shooting had the criminal withering on the concert floor in pain and Larabee thanking God that he'd see another day. Chris thanked Vin profusely and offered to help the young Texan when ever possible. Over a short period of time the two men realized that a strong bond of friendship had developed between them. Chris wanted Vin to join the team, but Vin didn't have the college education required to join the ATF. Chris was persistent; he would not give up. He called in every favor owed. He pounded on every door he could think of. With a lot of perseverance and some tutoring Vin was accepted as an employee of the ATF.

He looked at the picture one last time and lightly let his fingers brush across the glass. When did he become part of this rag-tag family? And how did these men creep into his heart? It amazed him every time he thought about this diverse group of men. He smiled thinking of the motto of the three Musketeers. All for one, one for all.

---

At the appointed time the rough-and-tumble members of team seven, known to other ATF agents as, The Larabee Gang filed into the big room that held a large oval table. Among the bantering and jostling around they slowly started taking their seats to wait for their stoic leader to enter the room. Chris arrived a few seconds behind the men carrying a file that Travis gave him at their luncheon. Placing the folder on the table he looked across at the rest of the men and then proceeded to sit down.

He sat there for a few seconds until JD Dunne asked, "So what's the new case about?"

"As soon as everyone settles down I'll tell you JD." He said looking at the younger man.

The kid scanned the room. Half stood, then spoke, "hey guys, come on I want to know what's going on"

"JD don't you ever get tired of working?" Wilmington quipped as he lightly tapped Dunne along side the head.

Chris stood and cleared this throat, a signal that it was time to get down to business.
Looking at the file in his hand he said, "I met with Travis today and he has assigned us a new case. A train belonging to the Union Pacific Railroad was stopped and robbed of its cargo in the city of Limon. The train was carrying military hardware from the Rocky Mountain Arsenal in Commerce City here in Colorado to Fort Sill in Oklahoma. The information that Travis gave me is very sparse so we'll have to do a lot of fact gathering."

"Chris, explain something to me?" inquired Vin Tanner, "why are we looking into a military robbery?"

"Yeah," JD agreed, "shouldn't they be handling there own investigation?"

Holding up his hand he signaled a holt to all the questions. "You aren't asking any question I didn't confront Travis with myself. From what he told me the reason for the Feds stepping into the case is due to the fact that the railroad receives federal dollars."

Nathan, looking at Chris said, "there's something I just don't understand".

"What is it Nathan?" Chris asked as he took his seat.

"What in the hell are military weapons doing on a civilian train?"

"I don't know and Travis didn't have an answer either. Tomorrow morning I'm having a meeting with him and the military investigator who's been assigned this case. Hopefully he will have more answers. Until then there's no reason why we can't do some investigating on our own."

"I guess this is a joint investigation and we have to share all our information with the military?" asked Josiah.

Chris thought for a brief moment then replied, "That all depends on how generous they are with us."

"Been there, done that and we all know how they work," proclaimed Wilmington.

"Let's not worry about that until we meet the investigator," Larabee shot back.

Looking to his right Chris said to JD, "I want you to get on that computer of yours and see if you can get some answers for us. Find out if there are any connections between the arsenal and the railroad that are beyond the usual. Also the transportation of weapons; does the railroad always handle that and if so, why? And when you get a chance JD see if there have been other robberies in the past like this one." Another thing, it might help if we know what the financial stability of the railroad was. If possible get me a print out of the railroad 's bank accounts."

"Chris I might have to use some back doors and hack into their systems. You know that's illegal?" He said not quite sure what his boss wanted him to do.

Chris rolled his eyes at the young man, "JD I need the answers to these and a lot more questions and I don't want to know how you get them. If you tell me what you are going to do, you might be forcing me to arrest you."

The young man stared at his boss with a look of confusion and shock on his face. He was flabbergasted. Chris would arrest him for doing what he asked him to do. "But Chris," he stammered.

"JD, you know what you have to do to get this information, just go do it and don't tell me," his boss flatly stated.

Chris turned his attention to Standish, "Ezra, I want you to go to the base tomorrow. I don't know how co-operative they'll be, but see if you can find any information on the personnel used for the transportation of these weapons."

"The army is going to be against outside intervention. They're not going to disclose any significant information to me," voiced the undercover agent.

"Then I suggest you use a lot of those five dollar words you use on us all the time," Nathan declared.

"Hey Ez, you might be more effective if you had a uniform on," Vin chuckled.

"Hell Vin, if Ezra had to go undercover in the military he wouldn't last a day. He'd have to get up at the crack of dawn and we all know that he hasn't seen the sunrise in years." The mustache man injected.

"Very funny Mr. Wilmington, I'll have you know I've seen my fair share of sunrises." He returned while he brushed the imaginary speck of lint off his suit. Smiling he looked at his friends and just above a whisper he said. "Of course I was just crawling into bed."

Some snickering could be heard from the men sitting around the table when their boss said, "Can we get back to business." Letting his eyes focus on Josiah and Nathan he carried on, "How about the two of you taking a trip to Fort Sill?'

"Sure," Nathan agreed. "What do you want use to look for?"

Larabee sat back in the chair and thought for a minute before answering, "I really don't know, maybe the two of you can just snoop around. See if you can talk to the commander of the base. Find out if they ever had any other shipments intercepted."

"Chris, how long do you want us to stay there?" Josiah asked.

He looked at the two men then replied; "I'll leave that up to you, you use your on judgement. Just make sure you stay in touch and keep me posted of all developments."

Nodding his head that he understood, Nathan turned his attention towards Josiah. "If it's alright with you I'll check out a car and we can leave first thing in the morning."

Chris next regarded Buck and Vin. "I want you guys to go to the scene of the robbery and see what you can gather. From what Travis told me, the train was stopped because of a stalled truck on the tracks."

"What about evidence, did Travis say if there was any collected," asked Vin.

"Hell Vin" Chris replied, his hazel eyes darkening, "I told you I don't have shit for information. We're starting at the very bottom and we'll have to collect our own. I'm going to ask Mike Roget in forensics to go with you in case there is any physical evidence that can be found. I can only assume that the army has taken possession of the truck. I'll have JD do a search for it and with a little bit of luck he might be able to discover where the army is storing it.

Chris looked around the room, his eyes resting on each member of the team briefly before he asked. "Are there any more questions?"

Vin locked on to Chris's gaze and said, "you didn't tell us if there were any injuries."

"Orin said that there were two deaths. He didn't know if they were military, railroad or civilian."

"It seems the foes who have pulled off this transgression have added manslaughter to their roster of crimes," Ezra proclaimed.

Turning his attention to the computer wizard Chris said, "JD, when you get the chance see if you can find out the identity of the two men who died. I want to know everything about those deaths, and try to be discreet."

"Chris they will never know I entered their data banks," smiled JD.

"Who in the hell are you trying to fool kid, I never seen you do one thing quiet," bellowed Buck.

"Oh, shut up Buck you don't know what you're talking about," Rebuked JD

"Is that it for now? Does anybody else have anything else they want to ask? If not I'm getting the hell out of here and I'll see you all tomorrow," proclaimed their boss.

---

Chapter 3

The next morning Chris found himself sitting in Travis' outer office. Helen Martin, Travis' personal secretary buzzed her boss to tell him of Larabee's arrival. He didn't have to wait long, within minutes Chris was seated in front of Travis' mahogany desk with a cup of black coffee in his hand.

Since the military investigator wasn't there the two men spent the time talking about the case. A few more minutes lapsed before Chris inquired, "Excuse me sir, but where's the military officer?" He asked with a slight touch of annoyance in his voice.

"Chris he's on his way. He called just before you arrived and said he'd be a few minutes late." Travis replied.

"Orin what's his name?" demanded Chris, getting tired of waiting for the man and showing his lack of tolerance at sitting around doing nothing.

Before the AD could respond, he was buzzed by Helen to tell him that his army visitor had arrived. "Helen you may send him in now," her boss told her.

Chris set his coffee cup down, stood and turned around to face his counter part.
The door to the office opened and a tall man wearing the insignia of a Captain entered. Larabee observed the man as he slowly approached. His face was covered by the shadows cast from his hat. When the Captain stepped closer and removed his hat Chris looked at him with total shock. For just a fleeting second, if one looked close enough they would have seen an array of mixed emotions in Chris's eyes.

Travis extended his hand and the Captain accepted it and introduced himself as Captain Tim McGuire, currently stationed at Fort Riley in Junction City, Kansas.

"Captain this is ATF special agent Chris Larabee." Orin Travis said as he made the introductions.

"Chris you old war dog, it's good to see you again." McGuire said. The look in his eyes belied the smile on his face.

Chris could see the hatred the man felt for him. After all these years he hadn't let it go. He shook the other man's hand and with reservation said, "It's been a long time Tim. How have you been?"

"I can't complain, but I must say I'm a little surprised to see you. I would have thought by now you'd have drunk yourself to death," he sneered.

McGuire's words stung. Images of past incidents erratically fluttered into his mind forcing him to recall behavior that he just as soon not remember. He didn't want to dredge up the past and all the pain that was associated with it. Biting his tongue he forced himself to swallow any reply.

Sitting back in the chair he refocused his attention on Travis hoping that McGuire's comment wouldn't solicit any inquiries. He could feel anger starting to form in the pit of his gut. He knew he would have to control it now before it got out of hand.

Travis had a puzzled look on his face as he asked both men, "I can only assume that you two already know each other?"

Before Chris had a chance to respond to Orin question Tim replied, "Sir, Chris and I served in the same unit in the Navy. We were the best of friends. In fact you could say we were such good friends that I let him have everything I thought was precious in this whole world."

Chris rolled his eyes and looked at McGuire like he was a nut case from an insane asylum. "What the hell are you talking about McGuire? We were never friends. If I remember correctly you hated my guts the second you met me."

Travis looked at both men with disbelief on his face. "I don't know what the beef is between the two of you, but it ends here and now. You both have to work together on this case and I will not have any animosity while this is an active investigation. If you two want to beat each other's brain out when this is over with, be my guest. Until then, you will give each other the respect that your position is due. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?"

Casting his eyes down Chris answered in the affirmative.

McGuire saluted and snapped, "You have my word as an officer, Sir."

Taking a moment Travis scrutinized both men before he continued. "OK, now that that's settled, Captain what information can you give us?"

Opening the folder he brought with him McGuire stated, "Sir I have here a list of weapons that were onboard the train:

One hundred cases of M4A1 carbines (assault).
One hundred cases of M16A2 rifles (standard issue)
Ten thousand rounds of Standard ss 109 type 5.56mm ammunition.
One dozen of M79 grenade launchers.
One thousand 40 mm grenades.
Fifty cases of M9 9mm pistols.
Twenty thousand rounds of ammunition.

McGuire looked at Travis briefly then turned his head to the right and made eye contact with Larabee.

Chris stared at him and said, "There were enough guns and ammunition on that train to start a small war. Jesus, man, what the hell was all that doing on a non-military train?"

Looking at Chris with fire in his eyes he growled. "Listen, Larabee, I'm not the one who organized the transportation of those weapons. I'm just the guy who has to solve the crime, asshole."

"Captain, what about the people that were murdered, is there anything you can tell us about them?" Travis directed towards McGuire, hoping to cut off any retort from Chris.

Returning his attention to the assistant director he answered. "Sir, all the deaths were military personnel. There is no need for the ATF to have any of that information. The military will handle the murders of their own," he retorted sternly.

Looking at McGuire with hard cold eyes Chris asked sarcastically, "Did you take any pictures of the crime scene?"

"Yes, I have them here somewhere, let's see." Shuffling through the folder and turning over pages of paper he stopped. With brown eyes that were no wider then slits he viewed Chris. The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin, "How about that, I must have left them at the office. I'll tell you what as soon as I get back I'll have a courier deliver the pictures."

Chris' only thought at that time was to wipe the smirk off the man's face. He had to fight the urge to just reach out and grab him. "You're a real son of a bitch, McGuire" he replied with a voice full of wrath.

Travis watched the two dueling for only a few moments and knew that nothing else was going to get accomplished. He stood, looked at Larabee then at the McGuire, clearing his throat he said with venom in his voice, "Gentlemen, I believe that's enough for today. Captain I want you to send me every piece of information you have on this crime. I don't give a rat's ass if it's military or civilian. I want it all, have I made myself clear."

McGuire gritted his teeth and replied, "Yes Sir, I understand, is there anything else, Sir?"

"No, that's it, you may leave."

McGuire stood and looked down at Chris, with one final sneer; he turned and walked out the door.

Chris started to rise when Travis turned to him, "Sit back down Chris; you have a lot of explaining to do."

---

Ezra Standish arrived at the Arsenal and after a short conference with the commander was granted permission to access the personnel files. Now all he had to do was find the building that housed the records. After an infertile search he finally was forced to ask for aid and a young soldier was kind enough to head him in the right direction.

He entered the building that housed the personnel records and casually walked up to the desk. Facing a corporal he withdrew his wallet displaying his ID and presented himself as an ATF agent. "Corporal I would be most grateful if you can show me the list of the personnel that handled the arms shipment that was intercepted the day before yesterday?" He asked flashing him a smile that displayed his gold tooth.

Corporal D'Antonio looked at Ezra clearly not knowing what to do. He thought for a few seconds then responded, "Sir, I believe I'm going to have to speak to my commanding officer about your request."

"The commander of the base has given me permission and I am sure your commander would be more than happy to co-operate with the federal branch of our government," Ezra supplied.

D'Antonio picked up his phone and dialed a number. He addressed his commander and then informed him of Agent Standish's request. After a few "yes Sir, and no Sir" he hung up the phone. He eyed the smartly dressed agent standing in front of his desk. "My commander has granted you access to the file."
He stood, walked over to a filing cabinet then started searching until he found the information Ezra needed. The Corporal then proceeded to the copying machine and duplicated what was in the folder. Handing Ezra his copy he cautioned him, "When you interview these soldiers use some tactfulness, they aren't crazy about Feds."

"Young man my middle name is savoir faire." Ezra returned with disbelief on his face that someone could doubt his diplomatic integrity.

Smiling the soldier replied, "Yeah, well what ever. You will find the men on that list in building H-4. Leave here and hang a right, second building on your left."

Ezra smiled and gave the young man a two-finger salute, thanked him and left.

---

The drive to the scene of the crime was fairly pleasant for Vin Tanner and Buck Wilmington. Vin volunteered to do all the driving and that was just fine with Buck. His only complaint was the vehicle they were trying to reach their destination in, Tanner's beat up jeep.

After being bounced around and jostled for about an hour and half they entered a small town called Limon. The crime was perpetrated a few miles north of the city. The two agents called the local police to inform them as to who they were and why they were there. The police readily agreed to meet them at the site.

After negotiating through the city, they arrived at the tracks to be welcomed enthusiastically by two police officers, Cpl. Keith Winston and Officer Allan Noronah.
The four men tramped up a slight incline where one could clearly see a roped off area that had markings of a crime scene.

"I don't know if you guys are going to be able to find any evidence worth using," informed Cpl. Winston. "With all those army boys running around up here the other day there might be nothing left."

Buck nodded his head towards Vin and said to the officers, "hell my partner here is half blood hound. If there's anything out here he'll find it."

They first surveyed the area where the two soldiers were found dead. Vin was hoping that he would find some shell casing. Disappointed, he turned towards the two officers and asked, "You wouldn't know what happened to the truck that was used to stop the train?"

Officer Noranah laughed and replied, "Would you believe that we impounded it. Right now it's sitting in a garage just off Main Street."

Slapping his partner on the back Buck chuckled," Junior I think we just hit the jackpot."

"I sure would feel a whole lot better if we can find more then just the truck." Vin replied, as they came upon the area where the demolished truck once sat.

Vin started scanning the surrounding soil. He'd bent over and run his slender fingers over the terrain. Not finding anything he'd move on to next small section of ground. His eyes would dart back and forth seeking for the slightest clue. He had an uncanny ability to find what others failed to see.

While the remaining men were intent on what Vin was doing a dark blue car arrived and parked next to the battered jeep. The doors opened and two men got out. The passenger went to the trunk of the car and retrieved a black case. Hearing a sound Buck looked up, nudging Vin he informed him, "Roget's here with his assistant."

Smiling and spreading out his arms to back the men away he gazed at the soil and exclaimed, "That's good because I think we found something."

---

Chris took in a deep audible breath, what a stupid asinine thing to do. He let his emotions get the best of him. He knew McGuire was baiting him and yet he let him reel him in. Now he was going to have to explain to Travis. He rubbed his right hand over his face, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then closed his hazel eyes for just a fleeting second. He could feel Travis' orbs boring into him. Raising his eyes he looked at his boss. The assistant director sat staring back at him, the anger still present on his features. The pen that was in Travis' hand landed on the desk with a thud.

"Chris I hope you have a good explanation for what I just witnessed?"

"Sir, McGuire and I have some history that's left him with some hard feeling towards me."

"Enlighten me," demanded Orin.

Chris looked down at his hands resting on his lap before returning his gaze to Travis.

"McGuire and I were in the same unit in the Navy. Thankfully he wasn't on my team. He was always one of these guys who had to be the first one in, no matter what the situation. He wasn't a team player. I can't begin to tell you how many times he got called down for disobeying orders. Well anyway, we had a few altercations, physical ones', they always seemed to occur when there was too much alcohol involved."

"Are you trying to tell me that you two were about ready to rip each other's head off because of a personality conflict?"

Standing up, Chris walked around the chair. Stopping behind it he placed both hands on the back. "No Sir, I guess there's a little more to it then that."

Letting his eyes drift to his left he started his story again. "We had just completed a very difficult mission that ended with the loss of a team member. All the guys were in need of some down time and they needed an outlet for all the frustration that they had encountered on the assignment. So we had ourselves one blown out of a party. I think just about every member of our unit was there, lots of booze and women. Well… Tim was there with this beautiful brunette. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. The minute I saw her I fell in love with her. I knew she was the only one for me. All I had to do was to get the courage to go talk to her." Sighing he continued, "To make a long story short I finally did…At the end of evening I found her in my arms and I also found that I had made myself a new enemy."

Peering into Chris' eyes one could see that he was reminiscing about another time. He didn't cloak the emotions that flashed across his face, first a gentle smile and then pain that twisted his handsome features.

Travis didn't have the heart to intrude on the man's grief. He looked away giving Chris the time he needed.

Chris turned his back on his boss and tried to get his emotions under control. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Placing both hands on his face he rubbed his eyes and the single tear that managed to escape. When he was ready, he turned and faced the older man again.

His mask back in place he continued. "McGuire blamed me for Sarah's death. At her funeral he showed up drunk ready to kill me." Meeting Travis' gaze he shook his head very slightly back and forth, "You want to hear something funny, if it was the other way around, and he was responsible for Sarah's death I probably would have murdered the bastard."

---

Chapter 4

He wasn't really up to going back to the office. His only desire was to go home and get drunk. Knowing that this time of the day would not permit it, he'd have to set his wants aside and continue. With slumped shoulders he entered the world that was the center of his existence. Setting a foot inside the door he looked around. The only sound he could hear was JD typing on his keyboard. Off to the left of the bullpen was the break room, he'd head over there and get a cup of coffee first.

Accomplishing that minor task Chris started to work his way back to his office.

JD observing his boss heading in his direction stopped what he was doing. "Chris did you learn anything of interest at your meeting?"

Squaring his shoulders the weary blond replied, "The only thing that I accomplished was getting the list of weapons that were stolen. How about you, did you discover anything that we could use?"

"I don't know Chris. I printed the financial statements for the railroad and from what I can tell they look sound. I couldn't find anything to substantiate a connection between the army and the railroad and as far as the dead men; the military morgue hasn't filed anything on them. Right now I'm searching for the truck, and so far I'm drawing a blank." Dunne informed his boss in a voice that held a hint of disappointment.

Nodding his head he responded to the dark haired man, "You did good JD, It's still early in the investigation and there's still a lot of material we have to gather yet. I'll be in my office and when you get a chance bring me the printouts."

As he started to walk away from JD, he stopped, looked back at him and asked. "Have any of the guys called in yet?"

"Ezra did just a few minutes ago and said he'd be here shortly. I haven't heard from Vin and Buck yet."

"Did Ezra say how his inquiry at the base went?" Chris asked, hoping he would hear something positive.

"Nope, but he should be here soon," replied the dark haired man.

Turning away from the younger agent Chris headed into his sanctuary. Easing his weary body into the soft cushioned chair behind his desk he picked up the day's mail. Scanning the envelopes he noted that there was nothing that needed his immediate attention. He'd finish his coffee before he would retrieve the folder that McGuire had given him and ready the list for JD.

Within a few minutes JD was standing at the threshold of Chris' office. The computer wizard's enthusiasm was manifested in his eagerness to divulge what little he could share with his boss. Larabee smiled, as he looked at the zeal that danced in Dunne's eyes. He had forgotten what it was like to be so young and thinking that the world was your oyster and all you had to do was claim it.

The youngest member of the team entered the room and occupied one of the two chairs that were placed in front of Larabee's desk. He patiently waited while Chris finished preparing the report that JD would look into.

"Here's the railroad's info." Dunne said while handing Larabee the papers.

"Thanks kid," he said retrieving the printed pages. Larabee did a quick scan of them, and then placed them to his right.

Picking up McGuire's list he handed it to Dunne.

"Run those serial numbers through all the data banks and see if any of these guns have showed up in property storage. Also, check on any arrests that were made and if any felonies were committed while carrying one of these guns. Who knows, we might get lucky."

Hearing a tap on the opened door both men looked up to find the undercover agent smiling like a Cheshire cat. He looked at the other two agents and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Gentlemen, I hope your day was as prolific as mine."

JD glanced over at Chris and rolled his eyes.

Chris exhaled and said, "Ezra, don't give me a headache just tell what you found."

Standish claimed the chair that was parallel to the youngest man. He placed a tape recorder on the desk then opened a notebook. In as few words as possible he explained how he received the list of soldiers.

While all three men listened to Ezra's tape of him interrogating the soldiers, they skimmed over his notes.

"Mr. Larabee this next gentleman I interviewed was noticeably uncomfortable with the question's I asked. I believe the rogue has something to hide." He beamed with excitement.

"Don't keep me waiting let's hear this conversation."

Ezra leaned over the desk and pushed the play button. Immediately Ezra voice could be heard.

"My name is Ezra Standish and I am an agent with the ATF. What is your name and serial number?"

"I'm Private Richard Poole, Serial number 6548-5432-7690."

"Private Poole, did you hear about the train robbery the other day?"

"Yes Sir, I heard they got away with the weapons."

"Private, I understand that you were engaged in the handling of the arms shipment."

"Yes sir."

"How long have you had this assignment?"

"Well, uh you see, uh, I guess, well I just started."

"What did you do before this assignment?"

"I was in records."

"What was your job in records?"

"I, uh, I kind of kept track of inventory."

"Does that mean that you knew where all the supplies were stored or where they were shipped to?"

"Well, uh…. Hey Sgt. Do I have to answer his question?" %

"This is where his Sgt. stepped in and stopped our conversing," informed Ezra as he shut off the tape recorder.

"Good Job Ezra, I owe you a beer" Chris returned with a smile that said he was pleased. "I want you to do a background check on him and see what you can find out and while you're at it take a look at his service record. Does he live off base and if so, maybe we can get a record of his phone calls? Also get a copy of his bank accounts."

"Mr. Larabee, you might want to consider changing that beer to champagne." Ezra vocalized with a smirk on his face as he stood to leave the room

"Ezra don't push your luck" the leader spouted as Standish departed his office.

Returning his focus on JD he asked, "Will you make a copy of this tape and have one of the secretaries make a copy of Ezra's notes?"

"Sure thing Chris," JD answered while gathering all the material.

---

Chris shrugged his shoulders to release some of the tension that plagued him earlier in the day. Eyeing the stack of paperwork that he let slide he decided it was time to work on them. The first one he grabbed was the weekly expense report. Shaking his head no; he wasn't ready to wade through all that bullshit. This group of men had a tendency to go from one extreme to another. In the past there have been requisitions for items as cheap as a pack of gum and as expensive as a week at a chateau on the French Riviera. Setting that folder aside he proceeded to give his attention to the next one.

His progress was slow because his mind wasn't on working. His thoughts kept drifting to other matters. Taking a brief break from his task he sat back in the chair to relax. His thoughts drifted to the events earlier in the day. He hadn't thought about the day he met Sarah in awhile. For him it was love at first sight. Every time his gaze would rest on her angelic face it would take his breath away. He knew that this was the one and only woman for him and he had to find a way of meeting her. With a little persuasion he finally convinced a mutual friend of his and Tim's to introduce him to the woman who would be his future wife.

McGuire became obsessed with losing Sarah's affection. Shortly after Sarah broke off there relationship he started to call her constantly. There also were times when Chris and Sarah were coming home from their date and they'd find McGuire sitting on her front porch waiting for her. The only thing that kept Chris from smashing his fist into Tim's face was Sarah's hand on his arm and the pleading look in her eyes. McGuire's uncontrollable obsession in trying to re-win Sarah affections ended with him facing charges of stalking and leaving Sarah no choice but to take a restraining order out on him. The day that Chris and Sarah were wed, McGuire sent her six dozen red roses, a dozen for every month that they had dated.
The shrill sound of the phone pulled Larabee from his recalling of happier days. Reaching with his right hand he picked up the receiver and spoke, "Larabee."

"Hey, Sport, it's Buck."

"Where are you guys?" he inquired, happy to hear the voice of his friend of many years.

"We're still in Limon, should be leaving here shortly," replied Buck

Chris looked at the clock on his desk, noted the time, and realized the hunger pains he was feeling were due to the fact he'd skipped lunch.

"Buck I'm getting ready to head out. I'm going to go to Inez's, have a bite to eat and relax with a few beers."

"Okay, Chris, we'll see you there in a few hours. I believe we might have hit pay dirt here. We'll tell you what we found when we get there."

"You guys be careful and I'll see you later."

Hanging the phone up Larabee stood, picked up his sports jacket, threw it across his shoulder and headed out the door.

Ezra and JD were still busy at their desks trying to gather more information. He stopped and informed them of his plans for the rest of the evening. If they found anything that should be brought to his attention they knew where to find him.

---

Chapter 5

The regular patrons of Inez's knew who claimed the table in the back of the bar, most of the time the motley crew was left on their own. As long as you didn't bother them, they didn't impose their will on you.

Chris was enjoying the down time. Inez served him a steak that was cooked to perfection, and he savored every morsel. Now he just wanted to relish the taste of the brew he held in his hand.

Since it was still early evening the bar was fairly quiet. The first to arrive were JD and Ezra. It wouldn't even enter their minds that a member of the team would be sitting somewhere else. They headed straight for the rear table.

"Mr. Larabee I see that you have just gormandized a feast," observed Standish.

"Ezra I was enjoying myself," retorted Chris, trying hard not to smile. He hooked his foot under a chair and pushed it out from under the table, "JD, have a seat."

Ezra didn't bother to wait for an invitation; he pulled out a chair, sat down and proceeded to open his note pad.

Chris knew he wouldn't have to ask if they found more information, they would volunteer it.

"Mr. Larabee it seems that Pvt. Poole has come into a sudden windfall. Seven days ago the man deposited fifteen thousand dollars into his saving account."

Chris didn't hide the pleasure he felt at hearing Ezra's report, smiling he called Inez over and ordered a round of drinks. The two new comers decided it was time to have dinner. JD ordered a burger and fries, while Ezra wanted his nourishment from a New York Strip steak.

"Ezra I want you to pay another visit to Mr. Poole first thing tomorrow. Did you find out if he lives on base?" he inquired as they were served their beverages.

"It appears our suspect has a domicile not far from the base. And before you interrogate me any farther the phone-company will be furnishing me with a list of his calls for the past few months," beamed Ezra.

Chris nodded his head, "Great Ezra, JD, what about you?"

"Chris I keep coming up with blanks. The railroad appears to be clean. I can't find any misappropriations with the arsenal. There haven't been any guns logged in with serial numbers that match the ones stolen. And I have no idea where that truck is. I'm sorry Chris. I'll keep trying," JD uttered in frustration.

"JD don't worry, something will turn up. Meanwhile we have a good lead. We'll work that angle right now." Chris said trying to reassure the younger man.

---

The two agents that spent the day in Limon strolled into the bar. Buck veered off; heading over to place his order and more importantly to annoy Inez. The ladies man didn't take no for an answer. He figured eventually Inez would weaken and go out with him. Vin walked back to their table. Hitching a leg over the chair he sat down.

The ex-bounty hunter acknowledged his fellow teammates. Smiling he said, "Hey guys, how'd everything go today?"

"Buck said you guys hit the jackpot," asked the blond.

"Yeah… it wasn't too bad. We found some tire tracks and Mike made a casting of them.
The long hair agent informed his boss.

"That's all you found?" asked Standish.

"Chris that place was picked clean. There wasn't a shell casing to be found," Tanner explained.

"Hey guys did Vin tell you what we found." Wilmington bellowed as he ambled over to the round table laden down with drinks for everyone.

"Mr. Wilmington, if you are referring to the tire tracks then I guess he has," Standish replied.

"We did find tire tracks. In fact Vin found two separate sets of tracks. Mike said he should have them for you sometime tomorrow. I tell you Chris, I don't know how he found them," Buck stated as he pointed a finger in Vin directions. "I couldn't find shit and old hawk eye here zoomed right in on them."

"Did Vin tell you what we also found out?" The ladies man asked as he scanned the face's of this friends.

"I haven't had a chance Buck," injected Tanner. "I don't know if you guys have been looking for a truck that's been hit by a train. If you have, we know where to find one," he proclaimed.

JD shouted with enthusiasm, "Wow, that's great. I've spent all day searching for that truck. Where did you find it?"

"From what Cpl. Winston told me the locals keep having problems with the soldiers. The police report the dust-ups to the base, but nothing is ever done about it. So, when the train hit the truck, the local cops were the first on the scene. Now, some of the soldiers on the train told the cops about the weapons. Winston thought he would impound the truck, not sure of what would come of it," Buck relayed the story as told to him.

"Did Mike get a chance to go over it," inquired Larabee, excited about the new tidings.

"Hell, he got more then a chance. He went over it with a fine tooth comb," voiced Vin.

"I'd say our criminals are not too swift. Mike found lots of fingerprints, hair follicles and even Popsicle sticks. He said there should be no problem with getting DNA off the stuff," replied Buck. "Before I forget," inserted Wilmington. "One of the other officers heard some of the soldiers talking about one of the dead men. It appears that the dead soldier wasn't on the train and he was supposed to be on furlough."

"Please tell me you got the name of the dead soldier," asked Chris.

"Hell Chris, would I ever let you down." Buck dug in his pockets pulling out pieces of paper, "I know I got it here somewhere. Just gotta find the right one," he proclaimed. "Yo, here it is, let's see. It's Kermit Roush."

The name didn't mean anything to most of the men, except Ezra. Opening his note pad he scanned the list of names and found it. Private Kermit Roush was one of the soldiers that worked on the weapons shipment.

"Mr. Larabee it seems that Privates Poole and Roush were in the same squad," informed Standish.

"Ezra, I think we have enough to get a warrant for his arrest. Tomorrow morning we bring him in," ordered Chris.

---

After exchanging a few more bits of information the five men put business aside to enjoy each other's company. The joking and bantering steadily increased in volume. Chris started to get the feeling that someone was watching him. He slowly scanned the room; nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. He pushed the feeling down and concentrated on the conversations. Just moments later he felt it again. This time when he started to look around he saw McGuire standing a few feet from the table.

The two combatants locked each other in a deadly stare. One by one the members of the team followed Larabee's gaze, not knowing whom he was staring at until Buck turned around.

"Son of a bitch," roared Buck standing up so fast that his chair tipped back.

Chris slowly stood, never taking his eyes off McGuire. "Buck, sit down! I'll handle this."
Walking around the table he stopped in front of McGuire. "What do you want?" he growled.

Lifting his finger he pointed it at Chris' chest and shrieked," Just wanted to see the All Mighty Larabee at play, the fucking hero that always gets what he wants, and the man that would let his wife die."

Pure hatred flashed in Chris' eyes and before he could control himself he punched McGuire square in the face. The four men at the table scrambled to their leader side to keep him off McGuire. They didn't restrain Chris for fear that he would hurt McGuire. They did it to protect their boss and friend.

With a controlled rage, Buck grasped McGuire by the shirt and lifted him off of the floor.
"Get the fuck out of here before I kill you myself!" he barked in McGuire's ear, then pushed him towards the door.

McGuire rubbed his jaw and snarled, "This ain't over with Larabee." He turned his back on the group of man, threaded his way through the people standing around and walked out of the bar.

Chris sat down at the table, his men turning towards him, waiting for answers.

"Chris what the hell is that son of a bitch doing here?" demanded Buck.

---

Damn, he was tired, he felt like he could sleep for a week. Once he got himself calmed down he explained about his earlier meeting with Travis and McGuire. Not wanting to rehash the past he let Buck enlighten the rest of the men about their days in the navy and their association with McGuire.

Now he couldn't wait to get home and go to bed. Entering his driveway he pressed the button on the garage door opener. Slowly the double door raised enough to allow him access to the garage. The black truck entered and came to a complete stop. Taking the vehicle out of gear he turned the ignition off and slowly climbed out of the truck.

What happened next took him totally by surprise. Before he had a chance to shut the truck door a force plowed into him, slamming him into the nearest wall face first. The unexpected assault stunned the agent, delaying his respond time. His first instinct was to go for his gun, but hands he couldn't see grabbed him and pinned his arms to the wall. A big beefy hand secured its self to the side of his face and kept him from turning his head. He felt the first blow to the small of his back then one right after the other more pounded into him. Chris could feel the pain starting to radiate from different parts of his body, his head, back and chest took the brunt of the blows. He desperately tried to fight back, but he didn't have the ability to free himself. The feeling of helplessness was starting to bear down on him. He felt someone placing a hand on the back of his head, grab a handful of hair and with great force, smashed his head into the wall. Unbearable pain lanced through his head. It felt like the force of the blow was vibrating throughout his whole body. Trying desperately he wanted to cling to consciousness, but he knew it was a losing battle. He slowly started sinking to the concrete floor. What vision he had was dimming quickly. The last thing he felt before the darkness claimed him was a foot connecting with his ribs.

---

Chapter 6

Awareness was slow to seep into his mind. His first conscious thought was, 'What the hell is that buzzing sound?' He knew he had to shoo it away. He tried to move his arm to swat at the annoying insect, but found that generated pain. A low moan slipped past his lips. Moving his head to the side caused another moan. His name, someone was calling his name. The fog that veiled his thinking was starting to lift, the voice was familiar. Gradually his eyes started to flutter. Slowly he was able to open them to narrow slits. He could see a figure standing to his left, calling his name.

"Chris come on, Cowboy, wake up," Vin pleaded. "Chris, please try to stay awake this time? That's it partner your doing real good" Vin purred.

He tried focusing on the man leaning over the side of the bed, but his brain lacked the ability to concentrate. It kept trying to pull him back to the world of oblivion. He wanted to sink back into darkness where pain didn't exit, but the persistent voice wouldn't let him. Little by little the mist clouding his vision was starting to dissipate. He recognized Vin. He was talking to him, telling him to stay awake.

"Hey, are you trying to age me before my time sport?"

Buck: that was Buck talking to him. He shifted his eyes to his right and Buck was standing there, smiling at him. He swallowed and tried to clear his throat a few times. A glass of water with a straw appeared in front of his face. Taking a few sips he was able to respond, "Thanks."

"Don't try to talk Chris, you had the shit beat out of you," his oldest friend informed him.

"I'm in the hospital? What happened?" he asked, confusion written all over his battered features.

Vin and Buck looked at each other, worry etched on their faces, "Cowboy, we were hoping you could tell us," replied Vin.

"Chris someone tried to re-arrange your face." informed Buck.

"I don't remember. I don't remember anything. How did I get here?" he whispered.

"Josiah called, said he was trying to get in touch with you for about an hour. He kept calling your cell and home number and every time he tried he'd got your answering machine or your voice mail. He called me and I knew you should've been picking up. Hell, it wasn't that long after you left Inez's, so I called Buck and we drove to your place. We found you unconscious on the garage floor."

He tried shifting his body, God; he hurt all over. Then he tried sitting up straighter. The only thing he accomplished was enveloping his head in excruciating pain.

"Chris, will you stop moving around. You got yourself a concussion. Stay still, damn it. If you want to sit up I'll raise the bed. Damn you're an ornery son of a bitch." Vin hissed, forcing his friend back on the bed.

Chris settled back down and let his throbbing head rest on the pillow. He raised a hand to touch his face. Very gently his fingertips searched his swollen features.

Buck reached over him, placed his fingers around Larabee's wrist to remove the hand. "Chris it ain't a pretty sight right now. You got a few stitches over your right eye and some on your left cheek. Across your forehead you have a big gash they sewed up. Most of the damage is just swelling and bruising. Hey, Vin maybe now the babes will pay attention to you since Chris here looks like he wrestled a meat grinder," Buck chuckled.

"If it's just my face why does my whole body hurt?" he asked.

"Cause someone decided to leave their boot prints on you. The doctor says your ribs are badly bruised and you'll be sore for a while," Vin explained.

"When can I get out of here?" Chris asked.

"Chris you ain't going nowhere until the doctor says so," Vin told him.

"Then get the doctor, I want to talk to him," he ordered.

"I'm here Mr. Larabee."

Turning around Vin and Buck saw a man in a white lab coat standing at the door. The tall gray haired man approached the bed saying, "Mr. Larabee, I'm Dr. Craig Fletcher and I treated you in the ER. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, when can I get out of here?" Chris asked impatiently.

"Not today Mr. Larabee. You had a MRI earlier and I'm still waiting for the results. You don't have any life threatening injuries, but for your own good I think it's best if you spend the night. If the tests come back fine and there isn't any complication there's no reason why you can't go home tomorrow morning," lectured Dr. Fletcher.
The good looking doctor gave Chris a brief exam. Satisfied, he asked his patient, "Are you experiencing any blurry or double vision?"

"No," he replied

"How about pain, do you need anything?" asked his doctor.

Before Chris had a chance to respond Buck uttered, "Hell, yeah, he's in pain! He's been doing nothing but moaning and groaning since he woke up."

"Buck, the only pain I got is listening to you run your mouth," the injured man muttered.

"Mr. Larabee if the pain becomes unbearable let the nurses know. They'll give you something for it. I'll see you later today with your test results; gentlemen." Turning the doctor left the room.

Vin looked at Chris, worry written over his handsome face, "Chris, get some sleep. You look like hell partner. Buck has to go to the office and I'm going to stay here and watch your back."

"Yeah Vin, I am tired. I think I'll just close my eyes for a little while." He no sooner finished the sentence when sleep claimed him.

Both men quietly moved away from the bed so their conversation wouldn't disturb their sleeping friend. Vin looked up at Buck, sighed and said, "You know we're going to have to tell him when he wakes up."

Buck eyed his injured friend and replied, "I know, Vin, I know."

---

Chapter 7

Running, he had to keep running. If he stopped it would get him. He looked down at his feet, why weren't they moving… 'Move... Damn it. Move!' … He couldn't see the creature, but it was so close that he could feel the hot snarling breath on his neck … 'No,' he tried shouting, but nothing came out. He felt helpless. He felt paralyzed with fear. He could feel the enemy engulf him… 'NO!' He tried screaming one last time…

"Chris! Come on, Chris, you're dreaming, wake up!"

Opening his eyes with a sudden jerk he tried to get his bearing, wanting to focus on something, anything as long as it was familiar. His mind kept all logic at bay.

Vin shouted one last time, "LARABEE, LOOK AT ME."

The nightmare released its hold on him. "Vin?" he asked in between breaths.

"Damn Chris what are you trying to do? Scare the shit out of me?" he hissed, his voice full of fear.

Taking a deep breath and trying to control himself Chris gasped, "I'm sorry. It just felt so real."

"It's ok, just relax, it's all over," Tanner replied in a calmer voice.

Vin returned to the chair next to the hospital bed. Chris closed his eyes willing himself to put the nightmare behind him. A few minutes lapsed before either man spoke.

"Chris, you all right?" the longhaired man inquired.

"Yeah, Vin, I'm fine now." Larabee looked around the room, seeing that part of it was cast in shadows he realized that evening had fallen. Looking at his friend he asked, "What time is it?"

"It's dinner time, Chris. Here eat this; they brought it for you not too long ago." Vin told him as he pulled the tray up to the bed and removed the lid from the dish.

Chris wasn't hungry, that is for hospital food that tasted like Styrofoam, and so he pushed the tray away. Vin didn't say anything to him. He knew what the meals were like. Instead he opened a soft drink, poured it into a cup and handed it to his friend. Chris accepted the beverage and nodded his thanks.

Both men settled back and relaxed. Neither felt the need to speak. They were comfortable with the silence. They had their own special way of communicating with each other. Through body language, facial expression or ESP, it made no difference they always got their message across. This was one of those moments when the two friends enjoyed the absence of sound. The quietness didn't last long, as three members of the team barged in the room.

---

The lively group of men stood in front of their boss's bed and inquired how he was doing. Chris informed them that he would be leaving the hospital in the morning.

He looked at his men and seeing that two members were missing he asked, "Where's Josiah and Nathan?"

His teammates eyed each other, all four men clearly showing the worry on their faces.

"Chris," said Vin, "you sent them to Fort Sill."

Memories of the past three days crashed into his mind. Pain erupted in his head when it was flooded with all the information he'd forgotten. Placing both hands on his head he tried to hold back the torture. His friends were at his side wanting to ease his suffering. Ezra informed the nurse that he was in distress and in need of help. The duty nurse immediately went to his room and administered a pain reliever. She told him to relax the medication would start to work within a few minutes. His eyes closed tight, he tried to even out his breathing. The pain was starting to subside and he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Chris are you alright?" inquired Vin.

Taking a few seconds to answer he said, "Yeah, it's getting better."

He gave himself a couple of minutes, and then removed his hands from his face. Opening his eyes he scanned the worried expressions of his friends. "McGuire, the son of a bitch, McGuire must have beaten me up," he stated in a strained voice.

"Chris, he didn't do it. He had an iron clad alibi. He was at the police station when you were attacked," Buck explained.

Chris looked at Buck, clearly not understanding what he was talking about. "Why was he there?"

Buck peered at Vin, raised an eyebrow and nodded his head to the side. Signaling him, you tell Chris.

"Chris, McGuire has filed charges against you for assault and battery. There's a warrant out for your arrest," Vin reluctantly told him.

He would've jumped out of the bed if he had the energy. Instead he started swearing at the man. "That fucking bastard, when I get my hands on him, I'll kill him. I swear to God, that man's dead," his anger and frustration caused him to speak without thinking.

"Chris you're not going to do anything, you hear? Just stay the hell away from him. We got enough trouble without you complicating things," Buck injected.

Laying his battered head on the pillow he sighed in frustration. "You're right Buck, I know you're right." Taking a few moments to get his emotions under control he continued. "Now that you guys told me the bad new, give me the good stuff."

"Mr. Larabee, that was the good news, "advised Ezra.

---

His eyes shifted to each of his friends, feeling apprehensive he asked, "Tell me what's happened since I've been here?"

"I'll tell you what I found out about the truck," voiced JD looking at Chris. "It's titled to Andrew Manchester. Buck and I went to talk to him today. He died two years ago. His widow, she's seventy-five years old, a grandma that doesn't drive, sold the truck to her brother's son. His name is Richard Poole; she said she completely forgot about the darn thing."

Chris smiled as much as his cracked lip would let him. "That's great JD."

"Whoa, hold on partner, we lost the truck today. McGuire confiscated it. Winston in Limon called this morning to tell me," informed Buck.

"That's a minor disappointment. We got the DNA and the finger prints and Ezra was supposed to bring Poole in today." Chris proclaimed. Looking at Ezra he asked, "You did arrest him, didn't you?"

"Mr. Larabee, I hate to be the bearer of ill tidings but our suspect has flitted away." Holding up his hand, he signaled Chris that more information was following. "I arrived at his apartment first thing this morning. From close observation it was apparent that he withdrew from his resistance. I promptly descended to the base. Sadly I must report, that he was given an emergency furlough. All is not lost, Mr. Larabee. There is an APB out on him and the word is out on the streets. I have faith in my snitches, they won't disappoint me," promulgated Ezra.

Inhaling as deeply as his injured ribs would let him; Chris closed his eyes and let all that he learned sink in. His thoughts turned to his missing comrades. "Please tell me that Josiah and Nathan found something," he murmured

"Sorry, Chris, they called just before we left the office. They're heading back tomorrow," JD said hesitantly.

He felt totally defeated. There only solid lead vanished. Weariness descended on him suddenly. The last of his strength deserted him. His friend could see that he was in need of sleep.

Vin placed his hand on Larabee's arm and said, "Chris, the guys are going to head out now. You look done in, try to get some rest. I'm going to go too, unless you want me to stay."

"Vin go home, there's no need to baby sit me anymore. I'll be fine. Just make sure you're here first thing in the morning and bring the extra set of clothes I keep at the office," he said, trying to suppress a yawn.

The group of men said there good bye's and quietly departed the hospital room.

A nurse entered the injured man's room shortly after his visitors left. She handed him his medication that would ease his discomforts and asked if there was anything she could do for him.

"No," he answered.

She checked his pulse, took his temperature. They were both in the normal range. She turned off the over head light and said, "Good night Mr. Larabee."

---

Chapter 8

"Where in the hell is Tanner? Damn it, he should've been here an hour ago." He kept muttering to himself. He was up since the crack of dawn wanting to get out of the hospital. The doctor had been in already and discharged him. His pain pills were in his hand. He would've walked out except he didn't have any clothes to wear and he was afraid he'd fall flat on his face before he reached the front door. So, here he sat talking to himself and staring at the entrance to his room, which only succeeded in making his headache worse.

His best friend hardly had a chance to set a foot in the door when he jumped all over him. "Where in the hell have you been? I've been sitting here waiting for hours. Give me my damn clothes. I want to get the hell out of here," demanded Chris.

"Well good morning to you too, Chris, and thanks, I'm fine," Vin said in a scornful voice as he threw Larabee's clothes on the bed.

He sat back for a second realizing how he greeted his friend. "I'm sorry Vin. My head hurts and I just want to get out of here" he replied regretfully.

"I understand," he replied. Walking closer to Larabee he teased, "Hey, cowboy, you need help getting dressed?"

"Vin, I've been dressing myself for a long time. I think I can manage today"

"OK, don't say I didn't offer, but while you're fighting with your clothes I'll get your chariot." He threw over his shoulder while walking towards the door.

---

He wheeled the blond to his jeep and waited to make sure that his injured friend got in safely before he entered the driver side. They buckled up and before Vin could turn the ignition key on Larabee said, "Let's go to the office. I want to know what's going on."

The sharpshooter looked at him in amazement, his patience wearing thin, "What the fuck is wrong with you? You're suppose to go home and go to bed. Damn it Chris!"

"Vin I'm fine, and if my headache gets too bad I got medication to take."

Vin started the jeep and when he pulled away Chris heard him say, "You stubborn jackass."

The ride to the office was spent in silence. He pulled into the garage and parked in his normal spot. He stayed close to Chris' side in the elevator. No matter how much Chris kept saying he was fine, Vin was concerned for his friend's well being.

When they entered the office Vin steered Larabee straight to his own office. "You sit your ass on that couch and don't move until I get back," ordered Tanner.

He didn't fight him. He knew Vin was right. On the short ride in the elevator he continually fought the dizziness threatening to engulf him.

The three men working at their stations got up and entered their boss's office to ask how he was doing and to keep him abreast of the case. They found him in a reclining position with his eyes closed.

"Mr. Larabee are we disturbing you?" inquired Ezra as he neared his boss.

"No, come on in and tell me what the latest developments are," he responded as he sat back up.

"Chris when I was going over Poole's telephone logs. I found out one of the numbers he frequently called was to the dead soldier Roush. So I started checking Roush's log. Guess what I found out?" Before anyone had a chance to respond to JD's question he continued. "Both men have been calling the same number for the past six months."

"Did you get a location on the number?" inquired his boss.

"Sure did, it's an answering service in Junction City, Kansas," beamed JD.

"They were calling a service and leaving messages? Did the service ever call them?" Chris asked clearly puzzled.

"All the calls they received from Junction City were from pay phones."

"JD," Chris said. "See if we can get a court order to find out who's paying the bills for the service and who hired them."

"I'm already working on it, "smiled the younger man.

Looking at his men, the team leader asked, "Anything else?"

"Yeah," coming from Buck, "Mike Roget called. He said the first of the DNA tests came back from the samples in the truck. He got a match, Kermit Roush."

Chris was thinking of the evidence they gathered when his phone rang. JD was the closest so he answered. It was apparent by the tone of his voice that he was speaking to someone of authority.

"Yes sir, I'll tell him." All eyes turned to him, "Chris that was Assistant Director Travis. He's on his way over. Want's to talk to you about something important."

---

While he waited for Travis he would rest and hoped that it would ease some of the pounding in his head. He thought about taking one of the pills the doctor gave him, but he was afraid that they might make him sleepy and he wanted to stay alert. He laid his head on the armrest and closed his eyes. The next thing he was aware of was someone knocking on his door. Before he could respond the Assistant Director walked in.

Watching the older man approach he immediately started to set up.

"Chris, I don't want you to get up, just stay where you are," Travis said. Eyeing the reclining man's face he continued, "Son, you don't look so good. Maybe you should be home resting."

"I'm ok sir," he reassuringly said.

"I'm sorry about the attack on you. In a way I feel responsible," he declared.

"Orin, you had nothing to do with it. There's no reason for you to feel that way," he refuted.

"Hear me out, let me tell you what I know, then you make your own decisions." He placed his hand on the chair in front of the desk and turned it around. Sitting down he started to explain. "I had no intentions of giving you this case. You've had a heavy caseload recently and I was going to give your team some down time. I received a call from the Director and he requested that you handle it personally. I didn't give it a second thought until you were attacked. I went to the Director, explained about McGuire and your recent injury. I asked him if he had a reason for assigning this case to you. He told me, an old friend called in a favor." Standing he walked over to the window. Looking out he continued, "He said he would talk to this friend and find out the reason for his interest in you and this investigation."

Sitting up Chris asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know, but I hope to get to the bottom of this before too long. When I find out anything I'll let you know."

Before the two men had a chance to continue with their conversation Ezra burst through the door. "Mr. Larabee I just found out from a reliable source where to locate Poole."

Standing suddenly Chris barked, "I'm coming with you." Looking at Travis he said, "Orin, we'll talk more about this later. I got to go."

He didn't bother waiting for a reply from Travis. He left his office and accompanied Ezra to the outer door.

"Chris you can't go," he heard coming from Tanner with a hint of disbelieve in his Texan drawl.

"Vin I'm going, nobody's stopping me," he replied with a look of determination.

"Mr. Tanner, I will watch him closely, afterwards I'll personally escort him home. You have my solemn promise," assured Ezra, knowing that his fellow teammate would blame him if any more harm befell their boss and friend.

---

The undercover agent relayed to his boss the conversation he had with his snitch. Ezra's informant told him Poole could be found in a cheap hotel off Jackson Street.

The two agents reached their destination and quietly approached their suspect's room stealthily. They stood at his door and listened for any type of sounds. The only thing they heard was a television. Ezra placed his hand on the doorknob to see if it was locked. It wasn't, he turned it very slowly and quietly a fraction of an inch. The two men looked into each other's eyes. Chris gave a slight nod of his head. Ezra turned the knob a little more. It was time to un-holster their guns. With one final push both men charged the room.

Poole had been slumbering and didn't realize the two agents were there until it was too late. He was half way standing when Ezra grabbed him, spun him around, and threw him against the wall.

"Who are you? What the hell do you think you're doing? You have no right to handcuff me!" Poole screamed.

"Shut up, you're giving me a headache," uttered Chris starting to feel the pain in his head as it intensified.

Ezra turned their prisoner around so he was facing them. Poole took one look at Chris and said, "Oh man, they did a job on you."

That was the wrong thing to say to Chris. Ezra stood shaking his head back and forth. The idiot just told Larabee he knew something about the attack.

Larabee stood in front of Poole, their faces about six inches apart. The agent placed his left hand around the suspect's neck. With a low growl he said, "I know your ass deep in this mess and if you don't tell me everything I want to know I'll kill you."

Poole swallowed; he could see this man wasn't fooling around. He knew the agent could snap his neck at any moment. His whole body was shaking from fear. He would tell them all that he knew.

"It wasn't my idea. I was only one of the guys…" Before he could finish the sentence a bullet shattered the window and with deadly accuracy found its intended target.

All three men landed on the floor.

Ezra crawled over to the window where the shot came through. He slowly stood up alongside it. He looked out, not knowing what he was looking for. There was no movement, he saw nothing. Looking back into the room he noticed that all was still. He slowly approached his friend. His heart was beating out of control. Fear seized him. "Mr. Larabee," he called.

There was no answer. He couldn't see Poole's body. He could only see Chris' legs. He was close enough now that all he had to do was to lean over the chair and he would be able to see Chris. He placed his hand on the back of the over stuffed chair for support. He called his friend's name again, "Chris," he didn't receive a response. He slowly leaned over and the first thing he saw was the blood-covered head of Chris Larabee.

---

Chapter 9

The tall dark haired agent picked up the ringing phone. "Wilmington," he said into it.
The caller identified himself and Buck replied, "Yeah, Mike, what can I do for you? No, he's not here right now." Standing, he walked over to the fax machine, stood, waited for a few moments. A sound emanated from the contraption. "It's coming through now. I'll tell him. Thanks for calling." He hung up the phone, retrieved the papers and walked over to the desk by the other two agents.

"That was Mike Roget from forensics. He just faxed a copy of the report on the second set of tire tracks you found at the railroad, Vin."

Leaning over his keyboard Vin replied, "I hope it's something we can use."

Scanning the paper the ladies man read, "According to this, those tires were made exclusively for trucks used by, none other then Uncle Sam."

Raising an eyebrow, the sharpshooter asked. "The army stole their own weapons? Interesting, now all we gotta do is find the truck."

"I got more," looking at the other paper he explained, "Mike found a fingerprint match from the truck that stopped the train. His name is Vincent Coletta and his last known address," smiling Buck added, "Junction City, Kansas."

JD, hearing the conversation started to check to see if there was a police record on their suspect. His other two friends approached his desk and stood behind him. Gazing over his shoulder they waited to read the information he was gathering. It didn't take long for him to find a long list of petty crimes and felonies the man committed over a long period of time. The young agent printed out copies for his fellow co-workers.

They read all that was in his criminal report. Coletta spent most of his life in and out of jail. Most of crimes that he committed were minor. Purse snatching, auto thief, breaking and entering. The last, which he was out on bail for, was more serious. He tried to rob a liquor store and nearly beat the clerk to death.

While the agents were absorbing the latest information JD's phone rang. The young man picked it up and spoke into it, "Dunne," a few seconds lapsed, "yes sir," he looked at the other men and smiled brightly, "Thank you sir, I'm on my way to pick it up now." Placing the phone back on its cradle he returned his gaze to the men standing by his side. Their expression clearly said they wanted to know what the conversation was about.

"The judge signed the court order for a search warrant and to confiscate all material the answering service has pertaining to our investigation," young Dunne beamed with satisfaction.

"That's great, Buck, you and JD go to Junction City and serve the warrant. While your there check with the local police and see if they have anymore information on Coletta." Vin ordered knowing that the two agents would follow the orders as if their leader issued them.

The three men were taking care of some minor details before Wilmington and Dunne left for their drive to Kansas. They figured it would take them approximately seven to eight hours to reach their destination. If they left now they would arrive late in the evening.
Hearing someone enter the bullpen all three looked up. Noting that it was A D Travis they all greeted him.

"Did Chris come back to his office?" asked the director.

"No, we haven't heard a word from either him or Ezra," answered Tanner.

"I have some information about the man who requested that Chris lead the investigation," Travis told him.

"What are you talking about?" inquired Buck.

"Chris didn't tell you?" he responded looking puzzled at his agents.

"No," said Vin; "maybe you ought a fill us in."

Travis sat at one of the empty desks and related what he told Chris earlier. "I just spoke with the Director again. He said his friend, a councilman for the city of Junction City in Kansas, told him it was his son who requested Larabee."

"Son of a bitch, everything is pointing to Junction City. Did you get the name and address of this man?" asked Buck angrily.

"Yes I did," replied Travis, handing him the piece of paper with the information on it.

Looking at his partners Vin exclaimed, "Why don't you guys take off? I'm going to call Chris and tell him everything we found out. When you get to Junction City give me a ring."

The two friends left to pick up their warrant, and start the long drive. They hoped when they reached their destination they would find what they were looking for.

Tanner went to his desk, removed the phone from its cradle and dialed Chris' cell number. It rang a few times before a voice said, "Hello!"

"Chris, is that you?" he implored. Not receiving an answer he tried again, "Ezra?"

"Yeah Vin, get over here right now,"

"Where are you Ezra?"

"The Crown Motel on Jackson Street, room 213. Mr. Tanner, please hurry!"

Before Vin had a chance to ask or say another word the line went dead.

Chapter 10

"Oh my God!" he said as he knelt down by Chris. The first thing his brain told him to do was check for a pulse. As he extended his hand to touch Larabee's neck Chris's cell phone rang.

Startled he jumped, the sound taking him by surprise. He listened to the shrill ringing, and then searched Chris' pockets for the offending noise. Finding it he pushed the correct button and said," Hello…" Help was on the way.

Ezra placed his fingertips on Chris' neck, the pulse was strong. He let his eyes move further up the floor until he saw Poole's body. The sight made him nauseous and he fought the urge to vomit. Now he understood why Larabee was covered in blood. The force of the bullet entering Poole's head had completely obliterated it.

He immediately stood, went into the bathroom and grabbed a few towels. He ran them under water then returned to Chris' side. He started to clean the blood and matter off of his friend's head.
The dampness of the towels helped revive the unconscious man. Ezra could hear the soft moans emanating from him.

"Mr. Larabee, please don't move. I will help you in a minute. First I want to remove Mr. Poole's remains from your person."

The cool cloth felt good on his battered head. He would like nothing better to do then to lay there and have care administered by Ezra. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of blood. Swallowing hard he asked, "Is he dead?"

"It appears the projectile has decimated his head."

Chris wanted off of the floor and tried to rise, the movement caused pain to rear its ugly head. Ezra didn't know if it was a growl or a moan Chris expelled deep from his throat.

"Mr. Larabee are you injured?" the undercover agent asked with concern.

"Ezra, I don't think there's a part of my body that doesn't hurt," he growled. "Even my hair hurts.

Trying to suppress a smile the younger man suggested, "Mr. Larabee lets get you to the divan." Ezra placed his hands under his boss' arm and helped him stand. Chris had to take a few moments to steady himself. The room didn't want to stay still. It kept spinning around. Leaning heavily on Ezra, he let the other man guide him to the divan.

The two men could hear sirens and knew it wouldn't be long before help arrived. With half opened eyes Chris looked up at his friend and asked, "Did you call the cops?"

Standish walked over to the window and peered out. "I did not Mr. Larabee. I'm sure one of the good citizens of this establishment did the honors."

Returning to Chris' side he remarked, "I spoke to Mr. Tanner. He is on his way."

He didn't say anything; just nodded that he understood.

It seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, before the police barged into the room. Ezra held his hands above his head to let the officers know that he was not a threat.
Chris was resting, leaning back on the divan. He felt lousy and at that moment didn't care what happened.

The two ATF agents showed their ID; then Ezra explained the reason for them being there.

Within minutes Vin was on the scene. He questioned his fellow agent then walked over to where Chris was resting.

Sitting alongside his best friend he let his eyes rest on Larabee's face, "Chris are you ok?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine Vin, but I'm tired of everybody asking me that," he mumbled tiredly.

The young sniper playfully retorted. "Hell Larabee if you'd stop getting hurt we wouldn't have to keep asking."

He didn't bother to open his eyes when he replied, "Go to hell Tanner."

A tall gray haired man approached Chris and Vin. He extended his hand to Vin and said, "My name is Detective Carl Summer," turning his eyes toward Chris he continued. "One of the uniform officers ran your names through the system, there's a warrant out for your arrest Mr. Larabee."

Chris placed his hand on his forehead and gently rubbed it, and then he let the hand slide through his hair. "I know, it's just a nuisance charge," he murmured, trying to sit up.

Vin easily forced Chris back on the divan and addressed the detective. "Can't he come down to the station tomorrow? He's in no shape to deal with this now."

Summer eyed the injured man and replied, "Go ahead and take off. Larabee just make sure you're there tomorrow."

Vin thanked the detective and turned his attention to the older man. "Come on Chris lets get you home and put you to bed." With Vin's assistance Chris was able to stand.

"Ezra, I'm taking Chris home. Will you take care of this mess?"

"No problem, Mr. Tanner."

---

On the way to Chris' ranch they stopped to pick up some Chinese take out. The drive was mostly spent in silence. Every so often Vin would glance over at his friend to make sure he was all right.

Larabee could feel Vin's eyes on him. Tired of the close scrutiny, Chris said with a touch of annoyance in his voice, "Vin, I'm fine. I just aggravated my head and ribs by falling on the floor. All I need is a good night sleep."

The driver, clearly not happy that his friend didn't appreciate his concern, drawled, "Why don't you bite a guys head off for being a little worried about you?"

"I'm sorry," Chris muttered painfully. "Can we just forget I said anything?"

The battered jeep pulled up in front of the Larabee home. Vin lent his support in helping Chris into the house.

Before the injured man could think about eating he had to take a shower. The blood-crusted shirt was stuck to his chest and back and he couldn't escape the coppery smell of blood. What could only be parts of the dead man turned his stomach and he knew he had to scrub the remains of Poole from his body.

Making his way into his bedroom he started stripping, discarding the encrusted clothing as he went.

Entering the bathroom he stepped into the spacious stall and turned on the taps. He let the massaging hot needles ease some of the pain from his abused body.
Fifteen minutes later and dressed in clean clothes Chris headed for the kitchen, his rumbling stomach reminding him just how long it was since his last meal.

---

The two men talked about the case as they ate. Chris informed Vin about what went down in the motel room. How Poole was getting ready to tell them what he knew. Now they would never know what secrets the man held.

Vin in return, enlightened Chris on the information that Mike Roget faxed over. He told him about the search warrant coming through and how JD and Buck went to Junction City. He also mentioned Travis stopped by and gave them the name of the person who requested that Larabee investigate the case. His name was William Hayden and he lived in Junction City. The two agents were going to pay him a visit also.

"Do you know him?" asked Vin.

Frowning he shook his head left to right, "Name means nothing to me."

"Are you sure? How about when you were in the service?"

"Vin, I'm telling you I don't know this guy."

"There sure as hell has to be a reason for this guy specifically wanted you on this case."

"If Buck and JD don't find out anything from him, I'll pay him a visit." Larabee said, trying to smile through swollen lips.

"Hell Chris all's he'd have to do is take one look at you and you'd scare the shit out of him," Vin chuckled.

The hard glare that Chris gave Vin was betrayed by the lightness in his voice, "Shut the fuck up, Tanner."

Vin got up from the table and started cleaning up the remnants of their meal.

"Vin," Chris whispered softly.

"Yeah, Chris?"

"Do you know what I did with the pills the doctor gave me?" the blond asked, rubbing his hands over his temple.

Vin turned away from the sink, put his hand in his pant's pocket and pulled out Larabee's medication and tossed it to him. "Chris why don't you go to bed. I'm going to finish up here and crash in the spare bedroom."

"Thanks Vin, but you don't need to stay. Go home, get some rest and I'll see you in the morning."

"Are you sure, Chris? Because I don't mind staying."

Larabee grinned at his friend. "I'm sure, Tanner, just throw that stuff in the garbage and lock up on your way out."

"Alright, Cowboy," the sniper said as he watched his friend made his way towards the washroom.

Chris entered the bathroom, filled a glass with water and looked at the bottle in his hand. He didn't realize how blurry his vision had become; he could barely read the label. He'd take two pills, knowing from experience one wouldn't help the king size headache he was suffering from.

He shrugged out of his clothes, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up. Hearing the front door close he gave into sleep, oblivious to the fact that at that moment events were unfolding that would change his life.

---

Vincent Coletta was afraid. He was a nobody in the world of crime. A two-bit loser who got tangled up with the wrong guys this time. He heard about Poole's death and now he was running scared. When Roush was shot at the railroad tracks he thought it was one of the armed guards that got him. Now with Poole's death he wasn't so sure. 'He's going to eliminate us one at a time,' he thought.

Coletta was standing in the alley across the street from where he had a room. He kept watching to see if anyone came to check on him… No one showed up, not even the police... He knew he should leave without going inside, but all his money was there and he wouldn't be able to run far without it. There was a back entrance to the motel. He would go in that way and hopefully no one would spot him.

So far his luck was holding out. He was at his door and he didn't see another soul. Entering his room he closed the door and leaned against it. Five more minutes, that's all he needed, then he'd be gone.
The crook grabbed his sports bag and started to throw his things into it. It was a little difficult because he was working in the dark. If he turned the lights on they'd know he was there. Next the money, he placed his hands under the mattress and retrieved his loot. He started to stuff it into the bag when a figure walked out of the shadows from a corner of the room. The hairs on the back of Coletta's neck stood straight up. He slowly stood to his full height. He'd never been this scared in his whole life. He knew that he was about to die.

The shadow raised a weapon and a silent bullet killed Coletta.

---

Chapter 11

Chris Larabee awoke shortly past dawn. He went through his daily rituals, grabbed a bite to eat and headed out the door. He was surprised how good he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he slept so soundly and deeply. He hopped into his truck and pointed it toward downtown Denver. Recalling the conversation he had with Detective Summer about the assault charges he elected to go to the police station first and take care of that.
He planned to kill two birds with one stone. With his recent hospitalization he might have to re-qualify to carry a gun, so he would make use of their shooting range.

---

Vin arrived at team seven's office shortly after eight A.M. He wasn't surprised to see Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez already there. The two men always tried to get an early start on the day.

Vin questioned both men about their trip to Fort Sill and if they'd discovered anything that would be helpful. Regretfully they had nothing. Both men felt the commander and his officers were very honest and forthcoming, making available any and all information.

Vin informed Nathan and Josiah about events that took place the previous day. Poole being located then killed. Buck and JD heading to Junction City with a subpoena and looking into Hayden's request.

Nathan looked at his watch and asked Vin, "Where's Chris? Have you talked to him this morning?"

Leaning back in his chair Vin placed his booted feet on the corner of his desk, "I'm hoping he got that sorry ass of his in bed. The damn fool thinks he's superman," he explained.

"Vin, I called him last night and there was no answer," Josiah said in a voice that was marked with unease.

"Did you call his home or cell number?" inquired Tanner sliding his feet off the desk and sitting up straight.

"Both," the oldest member of the team replied. "I left him a message."

"He was exhausted last night. He probably didn't even hear the phone. I'll give him a buzz now."

Vin dialed the number to his boss' home. Hearing the recorded welcome he left a fast message then hung up. Next he dialed Chris' cell number with the same results. Now he was starting to get worried. The only time Chris didn't pick up the phone was when he couldn't. Concern clearly written all over his face he said, "I'm headed over to his place."

"Vin I'm coming with you he might need medical assistance," Nathan advised him grabbing his first aid kit.

"Josiah, stay here, we'll call when we learn anything," directed Tanner.

With that the two men were out the door.

---

Buck and JD arrived at the answering service bright and early in the morning. They served the subpoenas, to Barbara Johnson the owner of the business. The two agents asked Ms. Johnson whose name was on the account.

She searched her computer files and found that a Mr. Dale Kissel was the owner.

"How was the account paid for?" Wilmington asked.

"Mr. Kissel paid by cash for one full year service," she replied.

"Can you describe him?" Dunne asked hopefully.

"Not really, the only thing I remember was he wore a uniform of some sort."

Next she produced a list of all the calls that came for that number and a copy of all the messages the callers left.

Buck and JD took their time and viewed each message; hoping that the caller would have mistakenly left a clue. There were messages left from five men and each had left their name. The callers were Roush, Poole, Coletta, Hayden, and Bud. The ATF agents were happy the evidence was becoming more concrete. Now they had to talk to Hayden. Look up Dale Kissel and find out who in the hell Bud was.

---

Chris walked into the outer office and found Josiah was the only member of the team working at the time.

As soon as the former preacher spotted him he stopped what he was doing. As Chris drew nearer Sanchez was able to get a good look at his face. Some of the swelling had gone down and the bruises not quite as dark and taking on a more yellowish cast. Looking into his friend's eyes he asked, "How are you feeling Chris?"

He sat on the edge of Josiah desk and replied, "It's getting better. It only hurts when I breathe." He chuckled.

Peering into Larabee's eyes Sanchez inquired; "Do you think the beating you took is connected to the case we're working on now?"

Pursing his lips he returned, "I have no idea Josiah and for all I know it could be someone I pissed off in the past."

Not wanting to talk about himself any longer he changed the subject, "Did you learn anything in Fort Sills?"

"Sorry Chris, we drew a blank." He voiced, wishing that he could give the man some positive news.

Standing he headed for the break room to get a cup of coffee when he asked Josiah, "When did you guys get back?"

"We arrived last night. I called both your home and cell number, but you didn't answer. I left you a message, I assumed you got it," the ex-preacher declared.

"Sorry Josiah, I didn't hear a thing last night." Pulling his phone out of his pocket he checked it. He'd forgotten to turn it on. Walking over to the coffee maker he poured two cups of coffee. Returning his attention to Josiah he asked, "Have Vin or Nathan been in?"

Sanchez couldn't help but chuckle, "They're on the way to your house."

Handing the hot drink to his friend he asked in a confused voice, "Why are they going to my place?"

"Chris, you didn't answer your phone. They thought something was wrong," Josiah explained.

Chris sat the cup on the desk closest to him, reached for the phone and dialed Vin's cell. After the third ring he heard, "Tanner."

"Vin, get your ass back here," he ordered trying to suppress a chuckle.

Shouting into the phone the younger man responded. "Where in the hell are you? You could at least answer your phone once in a while."

Smiling Chris apologized, "I was at the police station taking care of McGuire's charge and I forgot to turn on my cell. So come on back to the office."

Placing the phone back on its resting-place he retrieved his coffee and said, "I'll be in my office."

---

William Hayden lived in a four-bedroom home in an upscale section of Junction City. He had a beautiful wife and three elementary school age children. He worked for a well-known advertising firm and had a six-figure income. Buck and JD arrived at Hayden's place of employment, showed their identification and asked to speak with him. The secretary called Mr. Hayden and informed him that he had visitors.

After a ten-minute wait they were called into his office. When the two agents entered Hayden's office they were comfortable with the room. Straight ahead and in front of a picture window sat a big mahogany desk. On the far left wall was a fully stocked bar. Against the opposite wall was a leather couch. The room was decorated in deep brown shades.

The man behind the desk stood when the agents neared. The three men shook hands then Hayden motioned for them to sit.

"Agents Wilmington and Dunne, may I ask the reason for this visit?

"Mr. Hayden, your name came up in an investigation we're conducting. We want to know how you're involved," said Buck.

"I don't understand. What investigation are you talking about?"

"A train robbery and your request for agent Chris Larabee to lead the investigation," informed JD Dunne.

The agents knew they'd hit a nerve. Hayden paled visibly when Larabee's name was mentioned.

"Mr. Hayden," Buck said, getting his attention. "You don't want this to get ugly, and it will if you don't co-operate."

Hayden didn't respond as he tried to figure out what to do.

JD thought that he would give the man a little push in the right direction. "Mr. Hayden, we can be back here within an hour with a court order to search your home, office and get a complete record of your finances. Now if you want to play hardball, that's up to you."

"You guys don't know what you're dealing with. These men don't fool around. They threatened me and my family," he stated, clearly upset.

"You tell us everything you know and we'll give you and your family protection," Buck promised him.

Looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he sighed and said, "If I tell you what I know, my life won't be worth a damn."

---

Chapter 12

Five members of the team were gathered around the conference table. It was time to make sure that everyone had all the latest information.

Ezra refreshed their memories on his first encounter with Poole and played the tape for Josiah and Nathan. He also relayed the conversation he had with the detectives at the scene of Poole's murder. The last he heard they didn't have a suspect.

Vin produced all the photos Mike Roget took of the truck that was destroyed. He pointed out the pictures of the tire tracks and produced the molds Mike had taken of the tracks. Next he showed them the DNA printout that proved Kermit Roush, the soldier who died at the scene, was the driver. He also had the DNA that proved Vincent Coletta was a passenger in the truck. He showed the team a picture of Coletta and a copy of his criminal record and all the information he was able to gather.

"Vin," Nathan said. "Do you know who bailed Coletta out of jail?

"I talked to the bail bonds man and he told me that someone else fronted the cash. He wouldn't give that person's name. Now I have a call into an old friend who's going to talk to the bail bonds man. With a little bit of persuasion he might tell him what we need to know."

Vin placed more tire track photos on the table and another set of molds. He explained that they were pictures of the truck used to haul the weapons away. Now all they had to do was check all the army trucks in the state and find the one that matched.

"Mr. Tanner I couldn't think of a more perfect job for you," Ezra chuckled.

"Hell Ez, I'm gonna take you with me and get you to crawl around them trucks."

Standish glared at Vin with an expression of complete indignation; which in turn generated laughter from the other men.

Nathan and Josiah both stated they wished they had something to contribute, but their trip to Fort Sill was in vein.

Josiah looked over at his boss and asked, "Chris what's been going on with McGuire? Has he been in touch with anybody?"

Shaking his head, Larabee replied, "Josiah, I haven't heard a word from him. I did receive the photos he promised. Not that we need them now."

"Chris, I'd like to know how you're feeling? What about your headaches, how bad are they and your vision, has your sight been blurry?"

"Nathan I'm fine. I have a slight headache. If it gets any worse I'll take the pills the doctor gave me. Every once in a while my vision does get a little blurry, but it's nothing to worry about," Chris assured him.

"What did the doctor give you for pain?" inquired Jackson.

Larabee dug into his pocket, pulled out a bottle and tossed it to Nathan, "Don't know I never bothered to read it."

Nathan caught the item and read the label, "Percocet 500 mg, you take one of these tablets they'll knock you on your ass."

Chris came back with, "One!"

"Yeah, how many did you take?" interrogated the medic.

The look on his face told the other man that he didn't follow directions. "I guess that explains why I slept so soundly last night."

Before the conversation could go any further the phone rang. Picking up the receiver Chris spoke into it. "Larabee."

"Hey sport I got some information that you're going to be interested in."

"Just a second I'm putting you on the speaker phone." Pushing a button and setting the phone back on its cradle Chris said, "We're all here, Buck, tell us what you have."

"Here's what we were able to find out. First thing this morning we went to the answering service. Dale Kissel owns the account. The woman who took his order said the only thing she remembered about him was he wore a uniform. There were five people who called and left messages, Poole, Coletta, Roush, Hayden and Bud. When we talked to Hayden he told us who Bud was. His real name is Norman Goodland aka, The Weasel. See what you guys can find out about him."

"Mr. Wilmington, I shall execute your order expeditiously," Ezra returned.

"Ezra," retorted Buck, "will you stop throwing around those five dollar words of yours."

"Mr.Wilmington, I'll have"…before he had a chance to finish his sentence Buck cut him off.

"Ezra, will you let me finish. Next we went to pay a visit to Hayden. Chris, the man was forced into asking for you."

"Buck, how was he forced into that?" Chris demanded.

Buck continued, "He has a major gambling problem. He said he owed money all over town. A few months ago he was approached by, Chris are you sitting down? Wait until you hear this name."

"Buck, just tell me the damn name!" commanded Chris.

"How's Carlo Fiorella grab you."

"Son of a bitch, Fiorella's involved with this?" Chris swore.

"Yep, seems he brought all the markers Hayden owed. Told Hayden if he didn't do what he wanted he'd break both his legs and then he'd start working on his wife and kids."

"Great job, Buck. You and the kid go out and have a good time tonight. We'll see you sometime tomorrow." Ending the call he looked at his men.

"Ezra, you and Josiah hit the streets and see what you can find out about Goodland or The Weasel. Vin, we need to get Coletta. You and Nathan start applying a little pressure on some of the snitches. He's out there somewhere and we have to find him."

Opening his mouth to say something else he was cut off by the ringing of the phone again. Looking at the flashing light he could tell it was an interoffice call. Picking it up he responded, "Yes…Send him right in." He returned the phone to its original location, looked at his men and said, "Travis is here, and he want's to talk."

Everyone started gathering the material off the table and place it into an evidence box, but before they had a chance to finish Travis, Detective Summer, a gentleman in a suit and two uniformed officers entered the room.

Chris addressed Travis, clearly not knowing what was going on, "Sir."

"Chris I am so sorry about this. If I had the power I wouldn't let this happen." With those few words, Travis had the undivided attention of the members of team seven.

Chris let his eyes gaze from Travis to the two men in suits and the officers who now stationed themselves at the entrance of the room. Returning his eyes to Travis he asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"Agent Christopher Larabee, my name is Detective Robert Schmidt." Reaching into his breast pocket he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Chris. "I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Vincent Coletta."

---

Chapter 13

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stood there in total shock. Ezra immediately grabbed the warrant out of his hand and started reading it.

Vin was in the face of Detective Schmidt and in a demanding voice asked, "How was Coletta murdered and where the fuck is your evidence?"

"Coletta was shot and when we take Mr. Larabee to the precinct we will show him the evidence we have to prove he committed this murder." Schmidt said, never taking his eyes off of Chris.

The detective produced two more court orders and handed them to Larabee. "This is a search warrant for your home and one for your office. I have a team already headed to your home. There is another team waiting downstairs.

"Chris," Tanner shouted, "all you have to do is have a residue test and it will prove you haven't fired a gun."

Ezra saw the look that flashed in Chris' eyes for a brief moment. "Mr. Larabee, I would advise you not to say a word until you have counsel available."

"I think you're right Ezra." He responded letting out an audible breath.

"Mr. Larabee," coming from Detective Summer, "out of respect for Mr. Travis we will let you walk out of here without handcuffs."

Chris turned facing his men; "Vin, you and Josiah go to my house."

"You got it brother," Josiah responded, "Vin lets get over there."

Josiah took hold of Vin's arm and had to drag the younger man out of the room. Vin didn't want to leave his friend behind. His face was a picture of confusion and anger. It was beyond him how they could even think Chris would commit cold-blooded murder.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra directed at him, "I'm going to call your attorney and have him meet you at the precinct."

"Chris," coming from Nathan, "don't worry about the office. I'll take care of everything here."

Chris looked at his two friends and just nodded his head that he understood.

"Mr. Larabee, may I have your weapon?" asked Detective Schmidt.

Removing his gun and shield he started to place them on the table when Travis reached out and intercepted them. Looking into Larabee's hazel eyes Orin said, "Chris these will be waiting for you when you get back."

"Yes Sir," was his only reply.

Chris listened as Schmidt read him his Miranda rights, he looked at Nathan and Ezra, nodded, and then walked out the door with the two uniformed officers.

---

Josiah and Vin were breaking all the speed limit laws to get to Larabee's ranch. They weren't rushing because they feared what the police would find. They were anxious for the two people who would be at the home now. Jose and Rosie Cortez was an older couple that adopted Chris many years ago. Shortly after the Larabees' purchased the sprawling ranch they discovered a need for help. Chris loved working with the horses, but between his job, Sarah and the upkeep of their home it didn't leave him much time to attend to the animals. It was a lucky day for both men when Jose knocked on Larabee's door looking for work. Ever since then Jose would come every day to groom the horses, clean the stalls and exercise the animals.

When Sarah was pregnant Chris insisted that she have help with the home. Rosie was more then happy to take over the house keeping chores. When Adam was born Rosie and Jose became the grandparents the child didn't have. The loss of mother and child was felt deeply by the Cortez's.
On this day the couple was performing their daily routine when the police descended upon the home.

Rosie was working in her favorite room of the house. The living room looked exactly the same as it did when Sarah was alive. Sarah's love for decorating showed in this and the adjoining dinning room. She chose different hues of blues to adorn the windows and walls. The furniture was from an early English period. Sarah loved the delicate wood carvings that trimmed the brocaded sofa and chairs. The oriental rugs of blue, green and cranberry covered the highly polished hardwood floors. Another one of Sarah's love was fresh cut flowers. During the summer months she would pick them from her own garden. When that wasn't possible she would buy flowers once a week to place on the dinning room table.

Placing the vase on the table Rosie stood back to admire the beautiful flowers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a few cars pull up the long driveway and stop. Chris had told Jose and Rosie if anyone came to the house that they didn't know; never under any circumstances let them in. With that thought in mind Rosie headed for the back door. She ran into the stable in search of her husband to tell him of the men arriving.

Within a few minutes the detectives and officers were standing in front of the Cortezs informing the spanish couple of their intentions.
Two teams would handle the search of the property, one taking the house and the other the stable and surrounding buildings.

---

Vin and Josiah arrived as the police were starting the search of the house. The two agents without hesitation sought out Jose and Rosie. They found them in the den sitting on the leather couch with an officer standing guard. Showing their ID they were allowed to speak to the couple.

Vin knelt down in front of them and asked, "Are you two alright? They didn't hurt you? Did they?"

"We're fine, they didn't hurt use. Why are they doing this?" Jose asked.

"They think Chris committed a crime so they're searching his house for evidence." Vin stated, his voice laced with intense displeasure.

"There are times when the hand of the law is being misguided," informed Josiah.

"Vin," Josiah said wanting to get his attention. Tanner stood and leaned closer to Sanchez. "I called last night, left a message on the answering machine; I didn't think Chris was here. We got to get that tape," he whispered.

"Shit, damn it. I wonder if anybody else called and left messages." Vin returned clearly worried.

Before either man could do or say anything else on the subject an officer walked into the den with the tape in his hand. Approaching the detective he said, "Sir, we found a tape in the answering machine and there were a couple of messages from last night on it. According to these messages Larabee wasn't home."

Josiah felt responsible for adding to Chris' problems. Nearing the detective he stated, "Just because a man doesn't answer his phone doesn't mean he isn't home."

"That may be true, but it's not up to me to decide. I'll leave that up to a court of law," conveyed the detective, not happy that he has to search the home of a fellow law enforcement agent.

"Josiah, It ain't gonna do any good. They're just doing their job. I just hate it when they're doing it against one of their own," Vin mouthed his displeasure.

The two men returned to were Jose and Rosie was sitting. Jose would bless himself every time he would hear one of the horses act up.

Vin smiled and said, "Maybe Peso will kick the shit out of one of them." That thought brought a smile to everyone's face.

"Sir," all turned to see a uniformed officer addressing the detective, "I think you better come out to the stable. We found some weapons."

---

Chapter 14

Chris sat at the table that faced a two-way mirror. He had a handcuff around his left wrist that was attached to the metal table. The door was left open and he heard what was music to his ears. Chris had to smile at the smooth talking southerner. Ezra had followed him to the precinct and demanded that he be permitted access to the interrogation room when Larabee was being questioned. The detectives refused stating that he was not Larabee's lawyer therefore he had no rights. The undercover man spewed forth what he claimed to be laws and prior cases that allowed the unfortunate victim of the law to have him, Ezra P. Standish at his side. Ezra used every five-dollar word, as his teammates called them, on the detectives. The officers finally relented only because Ezra had them so confused and had implanted a fear of losing a righteous bust.

The southerner entered the small cubical and occupied the vacant chair across from his boss. He made sure that he was centered in front of Larabee. Hoping to block the police on the other side of the mirror from viewing any signs or facial expression they might want to convey to each other. He smiled at the blond haired man and said, "Mr. Larabee."

Chris smiled broadly feeling very lucky to have friends who'd stand by his side. He looked deeply into the green eyes across from him and said, "Ezra, you are so full of shit."

His grin was so wide that the gold capped tooth flashed. Pointing his fingers toward his chest he responded, "Moi… Mr. Larabee never."

Chris let his eyes roam around the room for a few seconds then he returned his gaze to the southerner. For just a passing moment he let his friend read the fear that had him in its clutches. Chris knew that as different as they were, there were some things about them that were the same. With one final smile he let his mask fall back in place.

Ezra recognized the look, God only knew he used it enough himself. "Mr. Larabee I spoke with your attorney's office. It appears that he is in court at this hour, but will arrive as soon as permitted."

In a voice that was subdued he commented, "Thanks, Mr. Standish, you've been more then a friend."

---

Nathan stood like the tall guardian he was. He vowed to protect the information and material that his team had collected.

There were times when they had to spill some blood to accomplish their task. It always made it harder to reach their goals when the blood loss was from one of their own. This was going to be one of the most difficult periods for the team. The leader, who was always at the helm, would not be able to guide them. Nathan felt that there were forces at work trying to rip the team apart.

A detective sitting in front of Larabee's computer was trying to gain access to important case files. With all the different ways he tried he was denied access. Turning toward Nathan he requested, "Agent Jackson, I need to view these folders, but your boss has them password protected. Can you give me the password?"

Nathan stood behind the man and read the folders he was trying to view. He turned towards Travis and said, "Sir, he's trying to get into case files that contain sensitive information. If some of the names that are listed in these files were ever made known they could have serious repercussions."

Before AD Travis could answer, the detective confronted Travis with, "How do we know that Larabee doesn't have some of his crimes hidden in these files?"

Travis only had to glance at Nathan to see that he was seething with anger. The black man was clenching his fist at his side. Fighting the urge to pick this bastard up and throw him out of his boss' office. Placing his hand on Jackson's arm he reassured him by responding "I will take total responsibility for the contents of those files. Leave them alone."

"But Sir," retorted the detective.

Eyeing the man sternly Travis directed, "I said that's enough. Now get the rest of your men and get the hell out of this office. There are men that have work to do here." Letting his gaze return to Nathan he read the silent thank you that was issued.

---

The small interrogating room had just gotten smaller. Mr. Kevin Austin, Esq. was now sitting next to Chris. Knowing that his boss was in capable hands Ezra begged his leave to pursue a more fruitful avenue of investigating. Beside the acclaimed barrister Detectives Schmidt and Summer were now facing Chris. The attorney had made it quite clear that no one would question his client until he scrutinized the arrest and search warrants. Taking the time that was needed he read each and every document.
Indicating that he was satisfied with the official papers and the way they were executed he addressed the two police officers, "Detectives, I would like to know what grounds you had to base these warrants on?"

Detective Summer stood and then walked out of the room. Detective Schmidt looked hard at Larabee, but aimed his reply to the attorney, "Mr. Austin, I was called to the scene of the murder of Vincent Coletta. The man was killed with a high powered weapon at close range. While conducting the investigation we found the murder weapon wedged between the trash receptacle and the outside wall. We immediately bagged the weapon and sent it to the lab for prints and shell markings. The shell that took the life of Coletta was retrieved from the wall. There is not doubt that this weapon fired the deadly shell."

As Schmidt was explaining what they found Summer entered the room carrying a weapon that was tagged. He placed the gun in the middle of the table and an evidence bag that housed a spent shell.

Schmidt picked up the weapon and held it in front of Larabee asking, "Have you ever seen the weapon before?"

Larabee didn't need to look at the lawyer to know if he should answer the question. He stared at Schmidt's rugged face and replied in the negative.

Curling his lip in a sneer the detective shot back, "How can you explain your finger prints all over the weapon?"

Before Chris had a chance to respond his lawyer placed his hand on his arm and said, "My client doesn't know how his prints were found on the gun."

Schmidt wanted this man. He was bound and determined to make sure Larabee didn't walk away from the charges leveled against him. This would be a feather in his cap if he could bring down someone of Larabee's stature in the world of law enforcement. Reaching into a breast pocket of his jacket he pulled out another plastic evidence bag and waved it in front of his face. "Where were you last night?"

Chris leaned into Austin and whispered in a voice that only the lawyer could hear explaining why he didn't answer the phone. The attorney listened and nodded. When he heard enough he faced the two detectives and replied, "I have advised my client not to answer."

"Mr. Larabee," Detective Summer said getting his attention. "I spoke to you a few days ago at the murder scene of a Richard Poole. You and a fellow agent were there to bring Poole in for questioning. During the so called interrogation Poole was murdered with the same gun that shot Coletta."

Taken by surprise Chris responded, "No I didn't know. I never received the ballistics report."

"Detectives I want you to present all your evidence now before Mr. Larabee answers any more question. I am advising my client not to say another word on this matter until we can view all that you have." Turning his full attention to Chris the attorney leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

---

Chapter 15

The officers wouldn't let them into the stable. The young uniformed cop standing guard was apologetic. He could only guess as to how they were feeling. Their friend and co-worker was being charged with a number of crimes and all they wanted was to help.

When the officers entered Larabee's home and announced that they found weapons Vin and Josiah felt there heart skip a beat. The two men looked at each other in total bewilderment. Sure Chris had guns, all kinds of guns. What agent didn't, but his were all registered and normally under lock and key. Today the weapons that were stored in the gun cabinet were in police custody. The first thing that the police did was to tag and bag them. If there were more guns in the stable where did they come from? Did Chris know about them? If he did, why didn't he ever mention them? What the fuck was going on?
Josiah and Vin were straining their necks to look inside, but only one of the double doors was open.

Vin's instinct was pushing him on. He wasn't satisfied with having to wait. He stood in front of the cop only inches from his face and in an intimidating voice he growled, "get the fuck out of my way and let me in."

If one observed the rookie's eyes they would have seen fear, but the young man squared his shoulders and halting said, "Sir, I can't. I have to obey orders."

Josiah latched on to Vin's arm and pulled him out of the rookie's face. Vin turned on him with anger deep in his blue eyes. Ripping his arm out of Josiah's clutches he barked; "Get you fucking hands off of me."

Taken aback by the sudden outburst by Tanner the former preacher backed off and raised both hands in the air to let the other man know that he wasn't going to interfere. He took a few steps away from Vin, and then turned and ran his hand over his chin before saying, "That young man is only doing what he's been told. Look at his face, look real good Vin, because any damn fool can see that he'd give anything not to be in the position he's in right now."

Vin knew Josiah was right. The kid wasn't to blame for what was going on. Hell, if he were ordered to guard the entrance he'd use whatever force was necessary. He knew what spurred the outburst. Fear, deep in his gut fear. The kind that twisted your stomach into knots. He was afraid not only for his best friend, but also for himself and the other members of the team. Someone was trying to destroy Larabee and if they succeeded the aftershock would bring down team seven of the ATF.
Tanner hung his head trying to get his anger under control. He inhaled deeply then raised his eyes to search out his friend. Josiah had moved closer to the rookie and was apologizing for Tanners actions. Vin slowly approached the young man. Extending his hand in friendship he said, "Some times I can act like a real ass, I'm sorry."

The officer accepted the hand and apology replying, "Sir, there's no need to apologize for the loyalty you feel towards your friend."

The sounds emitting from the stable seized their attention. They backed away from the door as they heard footsteps nearing. The closed section of the door opened and two officers exited carrying a metal box about five feet long. As the police passed in front of the agents they couldn't help but read the markings on the box… Property of the U. S. Army.

---

The only sound coming from the outer office was the pounding on a keyboard. There was no laughing and joking around that one normally would hear as the workday ebbed. Nathan was silently swearing to himself. This was a job JD would accomplish with ease. His talents didn't reside in the use of gathering information from a computer.

After the police left empty-handed Nathan spent about an hour getting Larabee's office back in order. Those men didn't care how disruptive they were. They were on a fact-finding mission and nothing was going to stand in their way. Well, that is until they ran into Travis.

Since Chris was being accused of murdering there main suspect, Nathan thought he would try to find some information on the two other names that Buck gave them earlier. He typed Goodland's name into the criminal data banks. Reading the man's arrest record wasn't very enlightening. He was just another loser that spent his whole life one way or another going in and out of the system. Scanning the file Nathan realized that there was not a current address on the man. Hell, now he'd have to go out in the streets to find the location of The Weasel.

The next name he entered into the systems was Carlo Fiorella. There was no doubt that Buck and Chris knew the man. The name sounded familiar to Nathan, but he couldn't recall where he heard it before. He waited while the computer searched its data banks to produce the facts he needed. Within a few minutes Fiorella' life history was placed on the screen for Nathan to view. The man had an extensive arrest record for drug smuggling, money laundering, illegal gambling and murder. What amazed Nathan was there was not one conviction. For some reason all the witness recanted their stories and said they made a mistake in identifying the wrong man. The one witness that insisted that it was Fiorella disappeared. As Nathan read more on the man's life of crime he noticed that it abruptly ended seven years ago. There was not one entry after that date.

When Buck got back from Junction City he was going to have to ask about the crime lord. Reaching over he pushed the print button on the computer. As the printer was sprouting out the papers Ezra walked into the office.

Ezra advanced to Nathan's desk and stopped, both men quickly eyeing each other. Neither man wanting to gaze too long for fear of what they might find. Nathan was the first to break the silence. "Ezra," he asked, "What happened at the station?"

Ezra started from the beginning. When the police escorted Chris out of the building they immediately handcuffed and placed him in the back of a patrol car. He went on to explain how he had to convince the detectives to let him stay with Chris until his lawyer arrived. With Mr. Austin' appearance Ezra departed.

Next Nathan made Ezra aware of the events that took place during the search of Larabee's office and the lack of them finding anything they could use against their boss.

He retrieved the pages from the printer and handed them to Ezra stating, "I ran the two names Buck gave us earlier and this is what I found."

Standish lets his eyes roam over each page. Holding up Goodland's record he remarked, "After I left Mr. Larabee I visited those closest to the world of crime. I have permeated Goodland's name amongst my snitches. I hope Mr. Larabee will not be upset over the monetary loss to gain this knowledge."

"If it gets Chris out of jail I think he'd be more then happy to pay,"

"I'm sure you're correct Mr. Jackson." Scanning the record of Fiorella he added, "Sounds like a charming malefactor. I'm curious, why is this transgressor so interested in our Mr. Larabee?"

Before Nathan had a chance to respond to Ezra' question two of their fellow agents barged into the office.

Nathan and Ezra didn't have to ask how the search went at the house. It was written all over Vin's face.

---

Chapter 16

The two detectives left Chris and his attorney alone in the small interrogation room. In the middle of their questioning him another officer entered the room and whispered something to Schmidt. The man didn't try to suppress the joy that leaped into his eyes or the smile that turned up his lips. He bored deep into Chris' eyes with a wordless look that said I got you, you son of a bitch. Chris felt the noose tightening around his neck. His gut telling him that things just got worse.

Austin didn't like how the questioning was turning. He hoped that Chris would be able to clear up some of the statements that were made. Turning toward Larabee he asked, "Do you recognize that weapon?"

Chris didn't have to examine the weapon to know where it came from. He could spot a military issued weapon a mile away. He looked straight at his attorney and replied, "I've never seen that gun before, but I know where it came from."

Clearly not understanding what his client meant he asked, "Would you like to clarify that for me?"

Chris started to explain about the investigation he was conducting and the robbery of the weapon that was sitting on the table in front of him.

He'd just finished telling his story when the door opened and Summer and Schmidt re-entered the room. Summer reclaimed the chair at the table. Schmidt stood alongside the two-way mirror and leaned against the wall. Chris waited for them to start questioning him again.
Nothing was being said. They just stared at him. He knew what they were doing. God only knows, he did it enough to suspects he wanted to break. Stare at them hard and long. Make them nervous. Watch them sweat. You do it long enough you might hit pay dirt. He wanted to chuckle at the obvious tactics they were using. Next they'd probably use the good cop, bad cop scenario.

The silence was broken when Mr. Austin got tired of playing what he considered games. He cleared his throat and demanded, "I've asked you once already, now I'm asking for the last time. Where is all the evidence you have against Mr. Larabee?"

Schmidt pushed away from the wall, waked over to the table. Placing both hands on the table he leaned into them. Ignoring Chris he spoke to the attorney, "We have a murder weapon that was used in two deaths with his finger prints on it. He has no alibi for the night of Coletta's murder. The search of his home produced a case of M16 rifles. The serial numbers match the ones from the train robbery. The train robbery that he's supposed to be investigating." The detective straightened, walked to the other side of the table. There he pointed a finger at Larabee and continued, "That son of a bitch was behind the robbery."

If he weren't cuffed to the table, he would've tried to strangle the bastard. He couldn't ever remember being this angry before. God damn it, someone set him up. Who hated him enough to go through all this trouble? How in the hell was he going to be able to clear his name? Fuck!

---

The hour was getting late and still the four men were in the office. They searched files. They called fellow agents that they knew were loyal to Larabee. They contacted informants wanting to know what was going down on the streets. They learned nothing. No one was talking. So they sat and waited. They waited for two members of the group that started the drive back from Junction City as soon as they learned of the events that unfolded earlier in the day.
Nathan knew that Buck would have been upset with the guys if no one bothered to inform him of Chris' arrest so shortly after they escorted Chris off, he called Buck and JD.

---

They could feel it hanging over them like a heavy cloud. Fear and worry two words that they were becoming very familiar with. They sat with their own thoughts each trying to figure out what was going on and how they were going to free their friend and boss from the ridiculous charges that he faced. As the somber men sat with these thoughts the shrill ringing of the phone echoed loudly in the room.

Vin snatched the receiver out of the cradle and in an anguished voice spoke, "Tanner." He listened intently to what the caller was telling him, jotting down what he heard.
His teammates paid close attention to his facial expression. Hoping to learn about the one-sided conversation.
They heard him say, "I know I was there" another minute of silence then, "I plan on being there. Thanks."
Placing the phone back on its cradle Vin related what he was told. "That was Chris' lawyer. He thought we should know about the charges and evidence they have against Chris. He's charged with murder in the first degree in the death of Coletta. They suspect he had something to do with Poole's death, but they don't have any solid evidence. He's also has been charged with robbery of military weapons."

The three men that were occupying their chairs were out of them in a flash. Spurred on by the ridiculous charges that were filed against their boss. Each man voiced his objections at the same time. Vocally they were trying to be heard over each other. As the tones increased so did their anger. Their rage wasn't directed at each other. It was just their way of expressing their frustration. They were so intent on venting their displeasure's they didn't hear Buck and JD enter the office.

The two newcomers looked at each other wondering what caused the turmoil. Buck decided to take matters in hand. Placing two fingers between his lips he blew out hard producing a piercing whistle. The entire clamor abruptly ended. Each man looked at the other and wordlessly apologized. The four agents knew this was not the time to let their emotions get out of hand. If they were going to help Chris they must remain united.

Buck let his eyes drift over each of his friends. Shaking his head he asked, "What the hell is going on here?"

Stepping forward Josiah replied in a solemn voice. "Anger may stirs up dissension, but the love we have for our fellow man shall right all wrongs."

"Mr. Sanchez your faith is to be admired. I just hope what you say is veracious." Ezra proclaimed as he returned to the chair that he had occupied.

"Buck, Vin just spoke to Chris' lawyer. He was telling us about the charges that have been leveled against Chris. Things got out of hand. There's not much more I can say," informed Nathan.

Stepping alongside of Buck, JD asked, "What kind of evidence do the police have?"

Vin returned to his desk, sat and looked at the paper he had scribbled on. His teammates either rested on the edges of a desk or pulled up chairs. Whatever they were comfortable with. With an audible sigh he began, "The police found the murder weapon that killed both Poole and Coletta." Vin swallowed hard not wanting to repeat what the damaging evidence was. Keeping his head down he continued, "Chris' fingerprints are all over the murder weapon." Not giving his friends a chance to comment he finished relaying what he and Josiah had witnessed earlier. "They also found a case of M16 rifles in the stable that were from the train robbery. Chris is going to face arraignment tomorrow at 9 a.m. and I'm going to be there."

All was quiet for a few minutes. Each man absorbing what they just heard. They had to work fast and effective if they wanted to keep their boss and friend from spending the rest of his life in prison. They knew the answers they searched for would be found on the streets.

---

He faced a long and sleepless night pacing back and forth in a narrow strip, between the door and wall, which were only eight feet apart. To the left of the door was a cot that he had tried a number of times unsuccessfully to rest on. To the right was the urinal and a sink. Above his head a single light bulb incased in a metal frame would provide the only source of light in the room.

They placed him in solitary confinement for his own good. Because of who he was they couldn't house him with the rest of the inmates. There was always the possibility that a fellow inmate had been brought down previously by him. Jailhouse talk spreads fast and in no time the news of Chris Larabee being jailed would find its way to every prisoner and the guards wanted to make sure they didn't find him in the morning with a home made knife stuck in his stomach. Chris Larabee had the misfortune of making too many enemies over the years.

It wasn't the thought of being in jail that crated on him. Hell, it wasn't the first time he ever spent a night or two in jail. There were a couple of times he remembered waking up in a cell. He'd gotten drunk, started a fight and they carted him away to sleep it off, but always the next morning he'd walk out of the cell and go home. No, this was different. He felt totally cut off from everything and everyone. All he had were these fucking four walls. There was a small opening in the door that he would be able to look out of, but the damn guards wouldn't open it. He would look at the light bulb every once in while and wonder when they were going to shut it off. He could feel the panic starting to grow. Every step he took, every minute that passed would put him closer to complete darkness.
He was scared.

The moment that he dreaded was upon him. He stopped his pacing, turned slightly to his left and searched for the cot. He would have to control all the unspent energy coursing through his body. Sitting on the bed Chris rested both elbows on his knees. He lowered his head until it was cradled in the palm of his hands. His fingers gently massaged his eyes and temples. It surprised him that his only source of pain was from the headache that had grown at a steady pace all day. His ribs and face were healing and in a few more days most of the bruising would fade away. He wished he'd remembered to bring the medication the doctor prescribed for him.

His thoughts wondered to his friends. He knew that Buck and Vin would move heaven and earth to ensure that he got out from under these charges. He chuckled; good ol' Buck would probably try to break him out of jail. He also felt confident that the rest of the guys would do everything that was humanly possible to obtain his release.

How in the hell did he get into this mess? Why didn't he see it coming? He should have known better. He felt as if his life was falling apart in front of him. Chris Larabee was going to spend the whole night berating his self. Because of his failure to control events in his life his friends would lose all they sacrificed and worked for.

---

Chapter 17

The office of team seven of the ATF was abuzz with activity shortly after dawn. From the haggard looks of the members it appeared no one had a restful night sleep. Vin curled up on the couch in Chris' office trying to rest his weary mind and body. The other members of the team went home in the wee hours of the night. Now they were gathering again so that each man would know exactly what his duties would be for the day. They sat around the large oval table eyeing the map of Denver that was spread over it. After a lengthy amount of time of searching data banks and records they realized the only way they would help Chris was by being on the streets. The city of Denver was going to be divided up amongst five members of the team. Each man would receive a section and they would canvas the area trying to locate Goodland and Fiorella. Vin wasn't going to participate in the street search. His time was going to be spent at the courthouse. Chris' arraignment was scheduled for nine a.m. and Vin would be present. The first thing he had to do was go to the locker room, shower and change into his spare set of clothes.

---

Chris was awoken earlier then the rest of the prison population. The guards wanted to make sure he would have the shower area all to himself. They escorted him down a long corridor that leads to the showers. Upon arriving at their destination an officer handed Larabee his toiletries and told him he had ten minutes to complete his task.

He stood under the hot spray that was massaging his weary body, enjoying the force of the water. He placed both palms of his hands on the wall that housed the nozzle and leaned in leting the water hit his head and run down his body. Lost in thought his time slipped by before he realized it. Hearing his name, he straightened and looked towards his left. One of the guards was standing a few feet away from him.

"Lets go Larabee we don't have that much time. You also have to visit the Doc," the officer informed him.

He shut off the water, dried himself and slipped back into the offending prison jump suit.
He hated the feel of the prison garb. The material was ruff and the uniform wasn't cut to his body proportions. His attorney was supposed to stop at the ranch and pick out the clothing he felt would be appropriate for the arraignment. He just hoped that the man would be coming soon. Following the guard once again they headed to the infirmary so Chris could have his ribs re-taped.

---

Vin sat in the courtroom with a dozen or so men and women; some lawyers and others family members of those being arraigned. He looked at his watch and found that only five minutes lapsed since the last time he checked. He was getting frustrated with the wait.

The hearing was scheduled for nine a.m. and it was almost half past the hour and the judge still wasn't sitting on the bench. He looked around for Larabee's attorney, but didn't see him Vin hoped this was not going to be one of those days where the court took its good old time.

His thoughts strayed to his fellow agents. While he was sitting here they were out in the streets trying to find anything that would help Chris. By nature he was not a praying man, but today he silently prayed to God for just a little bit of help.

Hearing the doors of the courtroom open he looked up. The accused that were being arraigned were lead into the courtroom and told to occupy the chairs against the left wall. Larabee was the last of the ten men to enter the room and take a seat.

---

Ezra once again was visiting his loyal snitches. After he left the ATF offices he headed towards the section of Denver he was too canvas. He spent the next couple of hours talking to his informants. Most of them didn't have any information and those that did told him what he already knew. There was one name that kept popping up in a few of the conversations. A man who had made his living at feasting on unsuspecting women and conning them out of their money. He was known on the streets as Bradley. Ezra thought about the con man and what he could remember about him. He was a good looking guy in his late forties with dark hair and the most striking blue eyes. The one thing that Ezra recalled mostly about him was his voice. He didn't speak words he purred them. He had one of those silky voices that mesmerized the listener. Well if he knew anything Ezra was going to pay him a visit. He heard that he frequented a local drinking establishment in the south side of town. Before venturing into the pub he would call the rest of the team and find out how the investigation in their fact-finding mission was going.

---

The bailiff called order to the court and requested that everyone stand for the entrance of the judge. Once his Honor claimed his seat of authority he immediately requested that the first case be presented. As usual they were calling the names by alphabetical order. Vin hoped that most of the names would begin with letters in the latter part of the alphabet.
To Tanners displeasure, he learned that that was not to be. Chris' name would be the next to last to be called before the judge.

The lunch hour was fast approaching when in a clear voice the bailiff said, "The State of Colorado verses Christopher Larabee."

With his attorney at his side Chris was led to the table that was to be used by the defense.
A few feet to his right the lawyer that represented the Attorney General's office had laid claim to that table. Chris sat leaning slightly forward in the chair with both arms resting on the table. He listened to the bailiff read the charges filed against him. He couldn't believe how they kept mounting. Now they'd added two more charges, conspiracy and obstruction of justice. At the rate he was going, he'd be lucky if he saw the light of day again.

"Mr. Larabee, are you ready to enter a plea?" the judge asked.

Chris and his renowned barrister stood. Directing his reply to the judge, Austin said, "Your Honor, on behalf of my client I am entering a plea of not guilty on all charges."

The judge looked at Chris and asked, "Mr. Larabee, do you concur?"

Without a moments hesitation Chris replied, "Yes, Sir."

The two men sat down, and then the judge addressed the court, "I will set a date for your hearing when I have a chance to review the docket. Right now we have to settle the matter of bail."

Before the defense attorney could respond, Herman Chappell, prosecuting attorney for the state, injected, "Your Honor, because of the serious nature of these crimes and the fact that Mr. Larabee has the means to flee, the state is asking that bail is denied."

"Your Honor, Mr. Larabee is an upstanding citizen of this community," retorted Austin. "He has dedicated his life to law enforcement and has assisted the courts numerous times to bring the guilty to justice. Mr. Larabee has received the highest accolades that the state can award. His team has an outstanding arrest and conviction record. They have been hailed, by the justice system, the best in the land. It would be a mockery to his fellow officers and the personnel that administrate the laws if these facts were ignored.
Your Honor, it has come to my attention that you have received a number of requests, from some very prominent members, on both federal and state level. They are asking that you give careful consideration to the facts that have been presented to you. These members of our system have pledged their support in trying to unfold the truths behind this travesty of justice. I am asking you to give this man a chance to right the wrongs that have been leveled against him."

"Your Honor, that was a touching speech by the defense attorney, but his client has been charged with some serious crimes. The court can not permit the accused to be released on bail. Your honor, don't let a few stray letters from some curmudgeons influence this court room," injected the prosecuting attorney.

"Mr. Chappell, don't ever tell me what I can do in my own courtroom," retorted the judge clearly not happy with D.A's. remark "And another thing, I don't think the Governor of this state would appreciate being called a curmudgeon."

Chris could hear a few chuckles coming from the people who sat in the gallery. In fact he was hard pressed to suppress a snicker himself.

Addressing the court the judge continued, "I have given careful consideration to all the facts presented to me. Despite the evidence on file I have made a decision. Mr. Austin, bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars. Bailiff, will you please escort Mr. Larabee to the clerk's office." Slamming down the gavel he continued, "call the next case."

Through most of the arraignment Chris felt like the cold hand of fear was trying to strangle him. Now all he wanted to do was jump for joy. He couldn't believe it. He was going to be released on bail. Between his ranch and the insurance money from Sarah's death, that he could never bring himself to touch, he would have enough to post bail.

Feeling a hand rest on his shoulder he turned toward his attorney. Looking into Austin's blue eyes all he saw was confidence. Smiley broadly, Chris stood and extended his hand to the barrister. Shaking his attorney's hand he said, "Kevin I can't thank you enough. You're a miracle worker."

Smiling at his client he remarked, "All I did was to make a few phone calls. Now let's take care of your bail. I have the deed to your ranch and a letter from the bank stating the amount of funds available."

Chris looked over his shoulder in search of a certain longhaired sniper. Spotting Vin he smiled and gave a silent thank you for his support before he was ushered away.

Vin was elated, he couldn't believe that Chris was going to be released on bail. He admired the courage of the judge. He had placed himself in a very vulnerable position politically. If Chris doesn't show up for his court appearance, the judge can kiss his career good-bye.

---

Chapter 18

When Ezra brought his jaguar to a stop in front of O'Reilly Pub he saw Buck's truck sitting at the mouth of the alley across the street. Josiah and Nathan were still in their sections of the city having a few more stoolies they felt needed to impart with some knowledge. JD, having accompanied Buck exited the passenger side of the truck. The three men would join forces at the threshold of O'Reilly's.

The mustached man ambled over to Ezra and asked, "Tell me again Ez, why you wanted us to meet you here?"

"Mr. Wilmington, I believe it would be prudent to enter this establishment with some form of back-up." Standish enlightened.

Buck and JD looked at the front of the building that housed the pub, and then they scanned the surrounding street. Neither man could find anything that looked threatening. Looking at each other they shrugged their shoulders.

Returning his gaze to Ezra Dunne asked, "I don't get it. It looks fine to me."

"Mr. Dunne, looks can be deceiving," quipped Ezra. "Are you gentlemen ready?" he asked turning away and entering the pub before either man could answer.

Upon entering Buck knew this was the kind of bar he would enjoy spending many hours in. The curved wooden bar was to the left with an array of potables lined against the mirrored wall. On the parallel wall a shuffle board table and a half dozen pinball machines sat for the customers too whittle way the hours. Between the two walls sat a dozen or so assorted tables and chairs. In the rear of the room a pool table with the balls in the rack waiting for anyone who wanted a game.

The bartender was a big burly man with a head full of unruly red hair. His build was such that when Buck stood in front of the bar he felt dwarfed by the man. In a baritone voice the saloonkeeper inquired of the three newcomers, "What can I get you?"

Ezra smiled at the large man, pointed to his two friends and replied, "My associates and I would like a few words with Bradley."

The bartender scrutinized the men standing in front of him. Deciding they were harmless he said, "give me your name and I'll see if he wants to talk to you."

Ezra reached into the breast pocket of this well tailored suit and pulled out a business card. Handing it to the barkeep he said, "tell him Maude sends her regards."

Buck and JD looked at Ezra with raised eyebrows and mouthed, "Maude?"

"Bradley was one of my mothers many suitors when I was just a sapling." He reluctantly disclosed.

"He dated your mom Ezra?" JD blurted out.

"Yes, Mr. Dunne, he did and I am happy to say that it was in a different life time."

Buck realizing Ezra' discomfort over the subject elbowed JD and gave him a look that read shut up. JD stood with his mouth gaping open and confusion written all over his face came back with, "What?"

Before either man could respond the weight-lifting bartender neared them and said, "Bradley is waiting for you in the back room."

The three agents entered a room that was abuzz with activity. Ezra was well aware of what took place in this secluded section of the bar. Buck and JD taken by surprise let their eyes roam over every foot of the room. They scanned all the chalkboards that lined the walls and the many phones that sat on the tables near each board and the dark haired man sitting at the desk writing.
Bradley looked up when he heard his guests approaching. Standing, he smiled and extended his hand to Ezra saying, "Ezra, my boy it's a pleasure to see you again. How many years has it been?'

Accepting the extended hand Ezra replied, "Far too many Bradley, far too many."

Watching JD's face Bradley stated, "I see your young friend here wasn't aware that this is a betting parlor," he remarked as JD tried to come to grips with the knowledge that he was standing in a room that was in the midst of breaking a handful of laws.

"He doesn't get a chance to get out much." Buck remarked as he placed a finger on JD's lower jaw and forced his mouth shut.

"Ezra, I'm sure there's a reason for this unexpected visit?" Bradley observed.

Pulling up one of the many chairs that sat in disarray around the room Ezra rested his body in it. His partners taking the hint, retrieved chairs for themselves.

"Bradley, I'll come right to the point. I'm searching for two reprobates. The first is Carlo Fiorella and the second is Norman Goodland, aka, The Weasel or Bud," Standish imparted.

Bradley placed both hands together, palms touching. Letting his fingertips come in contact with his lower lip he thought for a few moments. The three agents sat in silences waiting for the man to speak. Clearing his throat he began, "Funny that you should mention Fiorella's name. Here's a man that vanished a few years back. No one knew what happened to him. Then within the past year he started to re-acquaint himself with his old cronies. Myself, I haven't seen him. Don't know where he is, but he's around." Bending over he pulled out the low drawer of the desk, retrieved a pocket size book and started scanning the pages. Finding what he was looking for he continued, "Goodland, he's been here a few times. Placed a number of bets on NBA and the NFL."

He looked around the room, spotting the person he wished to speak with and called him over, "Jimmy, do you know where Goorland can be found?"

A young blond haired man dressed in jeans and a tee shirt neared the desk. He eyed the three men sitting in front of his boss. If Bradley wanted them to have the information who was he to argue with them. Facing the three he said, "He lives in a rooming house on Stout Street and I believe he likes to watch the girly shows in that strip joint on Second Street."

Thanking Bradley and the young man the agents left the bar to continue there quest.

---

The three agents had just entered the third of the five boarding houses on Stout Street. Buck showed the proprietor the picture he had of Goodland and asked, "do you have anybody staying here that matches this photo?"

The man casually glanced at the picture and replied, "Yea, he's in 211 and he goes by the name of Goodman." Not showing any interest in the men asking, he went back to reading his magazine.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed down the hall that led to 211. Standing in front of the door they debated on how they were going to gain entry. Buck took matters in his own hands and just knocked on the door. The two other men rolled their eyes and shook their heads; not believing that Goodland would be stupid enough to open the door.

Within seconds they received a response, "Yeah, who's there?"

"Hey Bud it's me, open up," supplied Buck shrugging his shoulders.

With a look of total amazement on their faces they heard Goodland opening the door.
As soon as there was enough room between the door and the frame the three agents charged. The little man didn't stand a chance from the force that plowed into him. First the wooden door hit him in the face, and then a tall dark haired agent landed on top of his prostrated body.

Ezra and JD watched the comical scene as Buck tried to disentangle him self from the arms and legs that were flailing in the air. Finally achieving freedom, Buck stood and accosted his friends; "you two could've helped, you know?"

Turning back to Goodland he leaned over and picked up the weasel by grabbing the front of his shirt. The dazed man stood at Buck's side swaying back and forth. Leading the man towards the couch he let him flop onto the cushion.

Ezra faced him and said, "Mr. Goodland, it's time to parlay."

Goodland looked at Ezra then eyed the other two men and asked, "what the hell did he say?"

Taking out his Gun and waving it in front of Goodland's face Buck retorted, "It's quite simple, you talk or die."

"Ok, ok, ok, I know that language. What do you guys want to know?" The weasel stated while he tried to scoot further into the couch.

Ezra again confronted the crook; "Myself and my two esteemed colleagues are members of the ATF. Well, you see Mr. Goodland we are investigating a train robbery. We are also trying to collect information on why our fearless leader, a Mr. Chris Larabee has been framed for the crime and a few unessential murders."

If it was at all humanly possible Goodland would have just slipped into the cracks of the couch. The already pale man lost what little color he had, taking on the appearance of a corpse. He looked at the agents with eyes that were pleading for his life. Finally accepting his fate he replied, "I'm a dead man."

Not knowing whom they could trust, it was decided that Goodland would have the pleasure of spending the next few days in the company of Buck and JD. The unsuspecting malefactor had no idea what waited for him at the CDC, the center for disease control a name that the team fondly gave the unkempt apartment.

---

Chapter 19

A week passed since the members of team seven had the opportunity to gather as a unit. Chasing clues and unforeseeable events had kept one or two members detached from the group. Now, they were all converging on Buck and JD's dwelling. Goodland was there the only key to unraveling all the perplexities that plagued them. The men were bound and determined, before the end of this day they would know everything Goodland did.

Vin received the call about Goodland when he was waiting for Chris outside of the courthouse. Now the two men charged the tenement wanting to get their hands on the weasel.

---

Goodland sat on the straight back chair that was placed in the middle of the living room. Surrounded by his interrogators the little man was scared shitless. His biggest fear was from the man that glared at him with the coldest green eyes he had ever seen. He knew that this was Larabee. Swallowing hard he said, "I know what you want and if you help me, I'll give you Fiorella."

Chris stood in front of Goodland, sneered and said, "You dumb shit, you're going to tell me everything you know or you'll never walk out of here! Understood?"

"You can't kill me. You're a cop, it's against the law," he spouted with more confidence then he felt.

A malicious grin lifted the corners of Larabee's lips. Grabbing hold of the front of the man's shirt he lifted him from the chair. Bringing Goodland's face within inches of his, Chris said, "You stupid fuck! What's one more murder charge?"

Goodland forgot one of the most important principals of negotiating. If a person has nothing to lose, you have nothing to bargain with.

Blanching visibly the crook asked, "what do you want to know?"

Chris released the front of the man's shirt and let him fall back on the chair. Nostrils' flaring he asked, "Where's Fiorella?"

Looking to his right and left, then back at Chris he responded, "I swear to God, I don't know. If I needed to get in touch with him I'd call an answering service."

"Why did he want me to investigate the train robbery?" Chris demanded of him.

The smell of fear was permeating from Goodland when he answered, "I don't know."

Swiftly, the right hand wrapped around the weasel's throat. Squeezing his hand Chris slowly started cutting off Goodland's air supply. Goodland clawed at the hand, trying to free himself. When that didn't work he looked at the remaining men with a plea of help in his eyes. No one moved a finger; they stood watching the life being squeezed out of him. With one last bargaining tool, Goodland's garbled voice gasped, "I know where the guns are stored."

Chris' fingers immediately released their hold from around the man's neck. Goodland rubbed the area that was already showing signs of bruising. Taking a few deep breaths the felon scanned the room. The poor man didn't know what to do. If Fiorella found out that he talked, he was a dead man. If he were thrown in prison he'd end up being someone's play toy or biting a bullet. Whatever way he chose, he was going to lose.

Watching Goodland, Chris realized that the man was stalling. Losing his patience's he stretched his hand out to Vin and ordered, "Give me your fucking gun!"

Without hesitation the weapon was slapped into the palm of his hand. Pulling back the slide he checked to see if there was a round in the chamber. Without looking up Chris said, "JD, get me a water bottle."

"Chris, if you shoot him here it's going to make a mess," Buck declared.

Stepping closer Nathan said, "Chris, don't do this, it's just going to make things worse for you."

Chris tilted his head slightly towards Vin and he winked at him. The unnoticed movement by the rest of the team communicated his true intention to the sniper. Vin would play along.

Turning his gaze back to Goodland he replied, "I got no choice. The fucking bastard won't give me the answers I need. If I start with his kneecaps, he might be more willing to talk with a bullet in them."

"Chris," said Vin wanting to get his attention. "You know, Partner, there are other ways to make him talk without making so much noise."

With a wicked grin on his face Chris asked, "Would you like to put on a little demonstration?"

Pulling out the bowie knife sheathed on his belt the sharpshooter stood in front of Goodland. Squatting down in front of the man he placed the blade against his chest and slowly cut the thread that held the button in place. Moving on to the next button he said, "You guys are going to have to hold him down while I skin him."

Goodland's eyes just about popped out of his head. His features taking on the expression of sheer horror. Watching the blade slowly slide down his chest he started screaming, "He has them in a warehouse down by the river front!"

Vin removed the blade from the man, looking up at Chris he inquired, "What else do you what to find out?"

While Vin remained squatted in front of Goodland, Chris stood behind him and asked, "Does he have a buyer for the guns? And when's the deal going down?"

As Goodland eyed the two men he could feel the sweat rolling down his back and chest. Taking a couple deep breaths he tried to calm the wild beating of his heart before he answered the questions. In a shaky voice he spoke, "I don't know whom he's selling the guns to, but I know that the deals supposed to go down some time tomorrow night at the warehouse."

Placing his hand on Vin's shoulder the leader communicated the silent thank you. Looking up he inspected the eyes that bored into him. What he observed was uncertainty, they didn't know if he would go through with his threat. He couldn't say anything that would re-assure them or let them know that his intentions were groundless, because he didn't know himself. Sighing he forced the doubt he read in their eyes away, he would deal with it later. Moving closer to his teammates he said, "We got a lot of work ahead of us tonight."

---

Goodland was handcuffed to the radiator while the team went about their work.

With JD's computer skills he was able to find the layout of the warehouse district. Josiah had a friend who worked with the department of buildings and inspection. He furnished the blueprints of the warehouses.

With a little more persuasion from Vin, Goodland gave up which of the many building belonged to Fiorella.

Ezra was paying a visit to a judge he knew, that would occasionally partake of a poker game with him. They wanted the bust to be legal, so they needed a search warrant.

Chris just finished his phone call to Travis. He had to keep his boss abreast of what was going to be happening.

Pushing the pizza boxes out of the way Nathan spread the blueprints on the table. They assumed that the building would be locked and that it might have some form of security. They also knew that they had to find a way to breach the building without alerting anyone. They couldn't go to the warehouse building manager for fear he would pass onto Fiorella that the authorities had gained excess. They also couldn't jimmy or break the security locks because that would clearly tell Fiorella something was afoot. Hunched over the table the men studied the plans before them.

They checked the layout of the roof, hoping that there was a ventilation fan that could be removed. Disappointment at not finding one, they knew this was not going to be an easy task. The square structure had only one way in, and that was through the wide main door.

Vin wouldn't give up. He'd been in buildings like this before and knew that if you looked hard enough you'd find your entrance. Turning towards Goodland he asked, "Do you know if either of the structures along side of Fiorella's is occupied?"

Goodland thought for a moment then answered, "The one just before his is empty."

Buck faced the crook and asked, "How do you know?"

"There was a fire in the building and the owner had to remove everything from it and the reason why I know is because I saw him empty it." He spat at Buck.

"Since they don't have individual ventilation fans they might have a system that does the whole row of buildings," stated Vin.

"Are you saying that the two ends of building would house the fans and that there would be duck work that would run the length of the building?" asked Josiah.

"That's about it Josiah. If we can get into this building and climb through the ducks then we can drop right into Fiorella's place." Vin said as he pointed to the warehouse next to the crime lord's.

"Is it possible?" asked Chris with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Look at this," Tanner said, pointing at a specific part on the blueprints, "this has to be a vent, it's just not marked."

The men all eyed the area Vin pointed out and hoped he was right.

It was settled, they knew how they were going to go in, now the only problem was they didn't know what time the meet was schedule for. That meant only one thing, it was going to be a long day.

---

Chapter 20

The team arrived at the office in the usual manner with Ezra, always being the last to show up. They gathered in the conference room to review the plans for the bust. Not knowing the hour for the exchange of guns for money, it was decided they would arrive at the warehouse around noon. Vin, Ezra and Buck would breach the ventilation system and enter Fiorella's building. The first thing they would do is check the crates for weapons and verify the serial numbers. Next they would find appropriate hiding spots that would give them a good advantage point. Josiah and Nathan would be in a car so they could cut off any suspects that try to flee. Chris and JD would be in the communications van.

Clad in their tactical vests they checked their weapons one last time before heading out.

---

The metal building was huge from the inside. Looking at it from the outside one never got the impression it was so deep. Entering through the main doors and going to the right there were long rows of crates and boxes. Some of the crates were in the process of being shipped out. Others looked like they just arrived and were waiting to be opened. To the left of the door were more crates, but they sat in disarray. Also to the left were metal stairs that led to a second floor. This floor was half the length of the building. The office, constructed mainly out of glass was on the second floor.

---

The hours slowly passed for the men that were crouched in their hiding places. The conversation was on the light side. Throughout the bantering and joking they maintained a vigil eye and ear on their job.

Ezra and Buck had the luxury of standing, and stretching out the kinks that had a tendency to play havoc on their muscles. Buck choose to do his waiting on top of a row of crates. Ezra had chosen the small utility room close to the stairs. Vin was not so lucky. Being the sharp shooter he always took the high ground. His area was barely able to accommodate his body. Finding a small opening between the vent and the roof he squeezed in. Josiah and Nathan would take turns getting out of the car and stretch their aching bodies. JD and Chris could take a step or two in the cluttered van.

The sunlight vanished hours ago. The only form of light coming from the large white sphere that graced the evening sky. The chatter had long ago ceased. Chris, concerned about his team and their inability to escape boredom, would make contact with each man every half-hour just to make sure all was well.

"Vin, how're you doing, Partner? "Chris asked.

"Still hanging in there cowboy, but if they don't come soon I'm gonna' piss myself, "Vin returned.

"Buck what about you?" the leader inquired.

"Hell Chris I'm fine, but I could use a bite to eat," Wilmington replied.

"You guys hang in there and when this is over we'll go to Inez's to get a something to eat. My treat," informed Chris.

"Mr. Larabee, I'd prefer lobster," stated Ezra.

"Ezra, I don't…" Chris didn't have the chance to finish before he was interrupted by Josiah.

"Chris we got company. There are two cars heading your way."


"I got them Josiah, they're slowing down… This looks like it might be them… Nobody make a move, everybody hang frosty…Vin, when they get in there you tell me everything that's going on!"

"Copy that," Vin relied.

"Chris we got a third car coming at you," cautioned Nathan.

"Gotcha' Nathan. You guys copy that?" asked Chris. One by one the men responded to their leader's query.

When the large sliding door opened the cars pulled into the warehouse. A passenger in the second car got out and walked over to the control box to activate the over head lights.
The three agents that had spent the past hours in darkness had to shield their eyes from the offending light. Slowly they adjusted to the brightness.

"Ok guys, tell me what we got in there?" requested Larabee.

"Mr. Larabee, from my vantage point I would say there's about ten men," relayed Ezra

"Chris, Fiorella was in the second car. He's standing by it talking to someone inside," Buck softly said into his mouthpiece.

"Vin tell me everything you see?" implored the blond.

"First car, three men, including the driver all standing along side the car… Second car, driver still in the car. Front seat passenger and Fiorella outside of car, but Fiorella is leaning towards the open door talking to someone in the back seat… Third car, four men, outside of car, including the driver. I think they're the buyers. They look like they're from the Middle East."

Vin could view all the participants of the gun exchange. The last and final man exited the car. Vin locking the scope on his face said, "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. Look who the hell we got here."

"Son of a bitch, I should've known that bastard would have his hands in this," proclaimed Buck.

"What the hell's going on? You guys tell me, who got out of that car?" demanded Chris.

---

Chapter 21

Spending the best part of the day in a small area that you could barely move in was enough to play havoc on one's nerves, but he had learned years ago how to prepare for such a task. For some reason the many years of training wasn't paying off today. He was having a hard time staying within the confines of the van. At first the chattering between the guys kept him entertained. When that started to die down he tried to have a conversation with JD. After a couple of hours of talking to the young man he began to feel like he was on a different planet. He had no idea what the kid was talking about.
Giving up he sat in silence until the next radio check.

As the cars entered the warehouse he could feel the adrenaline start to kick in. Every nerve, every muscle, every part of his body was tense. He wanted to be in that warehouse. He had to know what was happening.

"What the hell's going on? You guys tell me, who got out of that car?" demanded Chris.

"Chris, listen to me, if I tell you, you gotta' stay put until this goes down," warned Vin.

"Give me a damn name Vin," he angrily retorted.

"Larabee, its McGuire," informed Vin.

Son of a bitch, he thought, McGuire. That damn prick was behind the whole thing. The robbery, the murders and framing him. He wanted to get his hands on the man. Growling into his mike he said, "When the buy goes down McGuire is mine, you got it, he's mine."

"Mr. Larabee you will not receive any interference from us," agreed Ezra.

"Josiah bring the car closer to the door. Be prepared to block it. Vin, I want to know the minute they make the exchange," ordered Chris.

He knew McGuire hated him, but he never thought he would go to this extreme to get even with him. Because of the man's jealousy, the past week had been hell. The longer he stood waiting the angrier he became and he knew he couldn't go into that warehouse when his emotions were not under control. With an iron clad determination he would suppress his anger until he had McGuire in his clutches. Standing at the door of the van he inhaled deeply, holding his breath until he could feel his muscles relax. He repeated the exercise until his mind and body had only one focus and that was to bring down the criminals.

He concentrated on the voices of his men. Then he heard the words, "The deal went down, it's a go," from Vin.

Jumping out of the van Chris ordered, "Ezra, Vin and Buck, you guys stay put until we get into the warehouse. Josiah, when JD and I are at the door bring the car up."

As the four men ran into the warehouse Chris shouted, "ATF, everybody freeze."

Buck and Ezra both showed themselves, letting the crooks know that there was no escape. One of the Middle Easterners decided to make a break for it and pushed his co-conspirator into another. That set off a chain reaction of everyone diving for cover with guns drawn and firing.

Chris landed behind a crate to the left of the door. Keeping an eye on McGuire he watched him take cover closer to the steps. Chris could hear the distinct bark of Vin's rifle followed by a grunt of pain or the thud of a body hitting the floor. As the gunfire became more sporadic Chris spotted McGuire making his way up the stairs to the second floor. Shouting out to his men he said, "give me cover I'm going after McGuire." Without waiting for a response, he went after the Captain.

Tucking the gun into the waistband at the small of his back he started running up the steps only a few feet behind the man. Taking a leaping jump Chris tackled McGuire and they both went down hard on the metal floor.

McGuire brought a booted foot up and kicked Chris in the shoulder, loosening Larabee hold from around his leg.

Chris hissed with pain, but shook it off as he saw McGuire starting to move again.

Re-gaining his footing Larabee sprinted the short distance and seized the back of McGuire's shirt halting his get away and turning him around. Now the two combatants stood face to face.

Glaring at his adversary Chris snarled, "You want a piece of me, come on and get it?"

McGuire sneered as he replied, "I'm going to send you to hell, Larabee."

The two opponents circled each other waiting for the best moment to strike. McGuire lowered the fist that was guarding his face and Chris took advantage of it and hit him with a quick right, then followed up with a left upper cut. He smiled as he watched McGuire stagger, but not for long.

Shaking off the effects of the solid blows McGuire landed a solid punch to Chris' midriff.

Larabee stepped back and tried to catch his breath, realizing he couldn't take to many hits to his healing ribs. He would just have to fight him in a different way.

Lowering his head and shoulder, Chris charged into the man, hitting him squarely in the chest. The force of the blow propelled both men through the thin outside walls of the office. Chris felt the glass cut into him as they shattered the clear pane. The sudden sensation of sticky moisture on his skin told him that he was bleeding. He had to act fast to get the best of the larger man. Scrambling to his feet he faced McGuire who looked as tattered as he did. Chris faked a left jab and when McGuire went to cover, the blond landed a solid right to the other man's jaw. From the effectiveness of the hit McGuire stumbled and fell back out of the office.

Chris exited the room through the same opening. His adrenaline still pumping him on he headed for McGuire again.

Recovering quickly McGuire counter-acted and landed a punch to Chris' face with enough force that propelled the ATF agent backward, falling over a crate and landing hard on the floor. Stunned he couldn't move; the gun tucked into his belt jabbed into his back causing unbearable pain.

McGuire charged and was met by a foot in the stomach that propelled him over Larabee's body and onto the metal flooring with a loud crash. Chris scrambled to his feet wanting to reach the man before he had time to react. McGuire swung his long leg around, catching Chris behind his leg, successfully bringing him down onto his back again. Dazed from the fall, Larabee let too many seconds pass.

McGuire threw his full body weight on top of Chris pinning him to the floor. An arm went across Chris' throat, cutting off his air supply. He could feel darkness encroaching upon him. Using both hands he tried prying the arm from his neck without success. Gathering what little strength he had left he swung his right fist into the side of the Captains nose. He heard the sickening sound of bone and cartilage breaking. McGuire howled with pain, but didn't release the hold he had on his adversary. Desperate Chris brought his right hand up to McGuire face and dug his fingers into the man's cold eyes. McGuire shrieked with pain, bringing both hands up to his bleeding face.

Gasping for breath Chris tried to push his antagonist off of him. Failing, he slammed his right hand into the side of McGuire's head forcing the man to fall sideways. Chris rolled to his right wanting to get his feet under him. He was so tired and his whole body ached, but he refused to give in. He was determined to be the one to finish this fight.

He slowly got to his feet and turned to face McGuire. What he saw compelled him to reach for the man's out stretched arm. Larabee's gun had slipped out of his waistband and now was in the hand's of McGuire.

Chris grabbed the wrist holding the gun, wanting to re-direct its aim. The fight had changed now that a weapon was going to be used instead of fists. The two men standing close to the edge of the platform were in a tug of war for the gun that was slowing going in between their bodies. Chris tried to force the weapon upward, but McGuire having more arm strength was bringing it down.

Inches separated them. Two arms and a gun stood between them. Chris pounded his right fist repeatedly into McGuire's head. McGuire using his left hand pushed under Larabee's chin forcing his head back. The two combatants were in the dance from death when the sound of a gun going off was heard throughout the whole warehouse.

They looked into each other's eyes both registering shock. One, as he felt the bullet rip through his side, the other, as he felt the weight of the injured man take him off balance, forcing both men to fall to the hard concrete floor below.

---

The gun battle lasted for only a few minutes and thankfully, from Vin's position he was able to take down the gunman that posed the greatest threat to the team. Out of the eleven wrongdoers six were either dead or wounded. They handcuffed their prisoners and secured the area. The calls were placed for medical assistance and police support. Now they watched as the two men fought on the upper floor.

The sound of a gunshot vibrating throughout the building held team seven's attention. No one took a breath as they observed the two men standing so close to the edge of the platform. In shock, they watched their boss and McGuire slowly fall the twelve feet to the concrete below.

"No," screamed Vin as he repelled his body down the length of the rope. Buck and Nathan ran towards their fallen friend leaving the rest of the team to deal with the prisoners.

"Oh my God," murmured Buck as they neared the two still bodies that lay on the blood-covered floor. McGuire landing on his back and Chris lying on top of the obviously dead soldier.

Vin ran to his friend's side, falling to his knees next to the bodies. He started to place his hand on Chris's back when he heard Nathan shout, "Don't touch him. We don't know what kind of injuries he has and we don't want to aggravate any of them."

Pulling his hand back he watched as Nathan gently placed two fingers along side Larabee's neck. Finding a weak pulse he said, "he's alive, but he won't be for much longer if he doesn't get medical help soon."

---

Chapter 22

Awareness was like an elusive butterfly that was just out of your reach. He could hear them talking and asking him questions, he just didn't know if he responded. He thought he had cried out when the paramedics moved him onto the backboard, but he wasn't sure.
He felt the pressure being applied to the gunshot wound to his side and wanted to move away from it.
His eyes flutter opened and he could see Vin standing behind the EMT. He tried to concentrating on his friend's face, but his vision wouldn't stay focused. He listened to the words that were being said to him, "Chris hang in there", but his mind couldn't comprehend them.
He felt them left him to the gurney and wheel him to the ambulance.
The trembling in his pain racked body forced him to squeeze his eyes shut tight. When the pain finally threatened to overwhelm him, he gave in and let the darkness claim him.

---

This was becoming a bad habit with this group of men. They were spending so much time in the waiting rooms or visiting a fellow teammate that the hospital staff began to greet them on sight. Now they had another member of the elite group in need of medical assistants.

Vin couldn't sit still so he paced up and down the waiting room. The rest of the team claimed the hard plastic chairs against the far wall. Every time the double doors to the ER opened all eyes turned towards it. Each hoping that the person coming through was going to give them some good news about their friend and boss.

They passed some of the time talking amongst themselves, each one going over what they saw or how they perceived the outcome of the bust. They rehashed over and over the events of the past week. No matter how the pieces of this puzzle fell they know that they had no control over the outcome.

The sound of the double doors opening captured their attention. A dark haired women approach them asking, "are you gentlemen here for Chris Larabee?"

Vin, immediately at the women's side responded, "yes Ma'am, how is he?"

"My name is Doctor Charlotte Cummins and I am the chief resident here. I just finished a preliminary exam of Mr. Larabee and right now we are waiting for his surgeon to arrive," she stated making eye contact with each man.

"Doctor Cummins exactly what are his injuries?" inquired Nathan.

She looked at the clipboard she held. Smiling she said, "Mr. Larabee is an extremely lucky man. The least of his injuries is a multitude of cuts and abrasion and the re-bruising of some ribs. The gunshot wound to his side had a clean entrance and exit without damaging any vital organs. The only problem is a high blood loss. X-rays show that there were no broken bones from the fall. He should make a full recovery barring there aren't any complications. If you gentlemen wish to go to the waiting room on the fifth floor his doctor will speak with you after surgery. Now, if there is no other question I have other patients to see."

Each man thanked the doctor for the information she shared and watched as she re-entered the ER.

---

Sitting in another waiting room, but this time they were more relaxed. The fear that had each man in its clutches was brushed aside with the reassurances from Doctor Cummins. Vin sat apart from the rest of the team sipping on a cup of coffee. Ezra, JD and Josiah had fallen asleep. Nathan was engrossed in some reading material. Buck stood looking out the window; dawn would be spreading its golden rays upon the land in a couple of hours.

Lost in thought Vin didn't hear the man approach until Buck called his name. Looking up he saw a doctor standing in front of him. "I'm assuming you gentlemen are here for Mr. Larabee?" he asked.

Nathan woke the three sleeping friends as he went to stand next to Buck and Vin. Rubbing the sleep out of their eyes they joined the rest of the team.

"I'm Doctor Anderson and I performed the procedure on Mr. Larabee. Surgery went as expected without any complications. He's in recovery right now and in about an hour he should be in his room. When he's moved a nurse will come and get you," he informed them.

He eyed the six men standing in front of him and asked, "Are there any questions?"

No, they had no question. With that the doctor took his leave.

They went back to sit in the chairs they occupied earlier. Buck went and sat next to Vin. Taking in the haggard appearance of the younger man he asked, "How're you doing Vin?"

Vin leaned forward in his chair resting both elbows on his knees. With his head bowed he replied, "I tell you Buck, when I saw him fall it scared the shit out of me. I think I forgot to breathe there for awhile."

Placing his hand on Vin's shoulder he returned, "I know what you mean junior. I thought for sure that Chris was dead."

Gazing into each other's eyes they saw they shared the same love and friendship that bonded them to their injured friend. Slapping Vin lightly on the shoulder the two men relaxed and waited to see their friend.

---

Returning to awareness he could feel warmth on his hand. The subsiding pain permitted him to open his eyes. Sluggishly his vision started to clear. Moving his head slightly to his left he could see a head of long brown hair lying on his bed. Shifting his fingers that were clutched in Vin's hand he tried getting the sniper's attention. When that failed he softly called his name.

"Vin, wake up," he hissed.

Haltingly the sleeping figure moved his head then opened his eyes. A lazy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Sitting up straight he stretched the kinks out of his stiff body. Smiling broadly the sniper asked, "How you doing cowboy?"

"I'm getting to old for this shit."

"You think maybe it's time for you to get that old rocking chair out and leave all the action to us young'ins."

"Ain't gonna happen Tanner, so forget it."

"Then stop getting hurt. You're scaring the shit out of me."

"Scaring you, trying being on the receiving end of it. I'm beginning to think that there isn't an inch of me doesn't hurt."

Looking intently into the blue eyes Chris could read the fear that his soul mate was trying to cover up. Silently he let his partner know that he was going to be around for a long time.

Breaking eye contact he asked, "Vin, what happened with McGuire and how did the bust end?"

"McGuire's dead, when you fell off that platform you took him with you. Luckily he broke your fall."

"How about Fiorella did we get him and the guns?" asked Chris

"Sure did sport," said Buck standing just inside the door.

Chris smiled when he saw his long time friend walking toward him and acknowledged him, "Buck."

"Damn Chris you look like you fell out of an ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down," Buck teased him.

Rolling his eyes he chuckled, "That's what I like about you Buck. I can always count on you to brighten my day."

"Glad to be of service sport."

"Now tell me what happened with the bust?" Chris asked curiously.

"We got the bad guys. We got all the stolen weapons from the train. The best part is, we really nailed Fiorella this time stud. From what we can gather Fiorella and McGuire met a couple of years ago in Columbia, South America. They found out they had something in common, their hatred for you. I guess McGuire thought he'd kill two birds with one stone. Gets some money and get rid of you at the same time."

"Yea, they almost got away with it too," injected Vin clearly still upset with Chris's latest mishap.

"Well I'm still alive and in no time I'll be ready to kick ass. By the way, when in the hell am I going to get out of here?"

Smiling at the injured man his friends knew that all would be right. The family had weather another battle and the aftermath would only make them stronger.

---

Epilogue

The team had gathered at Chris' for a Sunday barbecue. They spent the day joking, drinking and just enjoying each other's company. Chris was sitting in the lawn chair watched his friends play a game of touch football. He wished he could join in the fun, but it was only three weeks since he was shot and the doctors still had his activities restricted. So he sat laughing at their antics and thanking God that he was given the opportunity to be a part of this family.

Even though the bust had taken down the miscreants Chris still had to deal with his arrest. Through intense interrogating and negotiating they were able to come up with enough evidence to convince the courts that Chris was innocent and that McGuire and Fiorella had framed him for the murders of Poole and Coletta.
His team, he fondly thought, worked long and hard hours trying to clear him. They wouldn't let him participate in their search for the truth. They said the courts might get the impression that some of the evidence was tainted if he had a hand in the gathering of it. So he sat on the sidelines and watched as his brothers, his friends, his life was rebuilt.

He was deep in thought when Buck sat down next to him.

Buck, concerned for his friend asked, "Chris, are you ok?"

With a wistful glaze in his eyes he said, "I wish Sarah could've been here. She would have loved these guys." Looking over at Buck he smiled at his long time friend.

"That's true partner and if Sarah was here you'd have six other men fighting for her affections."

Laughing he said, "All hell, then I'd have to shot you all."

Buck reached into the cooler and retrieved two cold beers. Holding one out to Chris he asked, "You ready for another one?"

Looking deep into Buck's eyes he conveyed the affection he felt for the man. Smiling he said, "Thanks brother."

THE END