Part I - Into the Wilderness

Shambala country, Africa
Present day

He was going to kill Bruce, he really was. In an extremely slow, painful way. Perhaps even involving some sort of excruciating torture before delivering the final blow. Chinese torture, that would do.

Ezra bit his lip as yet another sharp, low-hanging branch scraped against his body, ripping cloth and tearing skin. He was covered in cuts and bruises, beyond exhausted; he would kill for a single drop of water, and the remorseless sun beating down on him made it seem like he was inside a sweltering oven.

Not to mention, since his watch had been smashed in an earlier fall, he'd lost track of how long he'd been wandering through the dense jungle. And it was all Bruce's fault for abandoning him in this endless labyrinth of tropical vegetation, at the mercy of the perilous fauna.

What the hell had he been thinking, taking up with a self-centered, arrogant, prickly bastard like Bruce? What the hell had him thinking a relationship between them could possibly work? They couldn't even see eye-to-eye on the most basic of topics, let alone important stuff.

But this, this took the cake. Being invited on a vacation in an exotic country to 'patch up' their differences, only to be left stranded in the middle of nowhere after a fight... Oh, yes, Bruce was going to regret it. Assuming, of course, a band of starving lions didn't decide to have Ezra for lunch, or he didn't die of dehydration first.

As if triggered by his crazed thoughts, he heard a most welcome sound; running water. There had to be a river or stream nearby. He stood frozen for a moment, trying to discern where the noise was coming from, his legs taking him in that direction of their own volition.

He nearly sobbed as his eyes spotted a stream of clear water right before him. He knelt on the bank, submerging his head and neck into that marvelous freshness, then drank his fill, remembering not to swallow too rapidly, lest he fell sick. He remained seated for a long while, enjoying a well-deserved rest, before deciding to proceed with his mission. Sooner or later he would find civilization, a way to return to Shambala City, and then Bruce would get his just desserts... With icing on top.

He had barely risen to his feet when suddenly he sensed he wasn't alone any longer.

"Bruce?" he whispered, hoping his lover had come back for him. "Is that you?"

The sound of rustling leaves reached him from several directions. He shuddered, realizing he was about to face more than one person or animal. His breath caught as the bushes were pushed aside, and he found himself abruptly surrounded by a dozen black men. All of them wore nothing more than a loincloth at the waists and bone necklaces at their throats. The paint smeared on their faces and chests and the spears in their hands as they drew closer didn't exactly reassure Ezra he was in safe hands. Especially as he recognized some of the bones adorning their necks as being human vertebrae.

'Oh, I can see the headlines now,' he thought inanely to himself. ''FBI agent on vacation in Africa eaten by tribe of cannibals'. How low can you get, my Lord?'

That was his last coherent thought for some time, as the men chose that moment to attack. He managed to evade the spears, punching and kicking as best as he could, but he was at a great disadvantage and still fatigued, and soon began to lose ground.

Two of the cannibals had succeeded in throwing him on the rough earth and were attempting to subdue him when gunshots echoed. In less than a second, he was free and the tribesmen had vanished out of sight.

Ezra remained on the ground, eyes closed, panting for breath as he silently thanked whatever deity was responsible for saving his sorry hide. He finally opened his eyes as the familiar purring of a motor halted next to him. It was a jeep, carrying three white men, all of them armed with machine guns.

"Gentlemen, am I to assume you are my timely saviors?"

One of the men, in his forties and sporting a goatee that contrasted dramatically with his bald head, grinned wickedly. "You are. My name's Benzin; these are my friends, Collins and Bloom."

Ezra sat up slowly. "In that case, I must thank you. I would have deeply regretted leaving this life as someone else's gourmet dinner."

The men chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't thank my lucky stars just yet," Benzin said, his grin widening.

Ezra raised an eyebrow in query.

"We've been looking for you," Collins said. He was a giant of a man, big and strong, and would have probably given most wrestlers a run for their money. "We witnessed your fight with your... er, friend. And how he took off in the jeep you'd rented and left you alone. Perfect opportunity, as far as we're concerned."

"Perfect opportunity for what?" Ezra echoed, dread surging through him. Talk about getting out of the frying pan and into the fire. It would seem his 'saviors' had a hidden agenda.

"We were... doing some business in Shambala a few days ago, when we saw you and your loverboy." Bloom leered. Contrary to the other two, who did look like mercenaries, Bloom resembled anything but. Short, slim, and with the face of a weasel, he was as different from the others as could be. "We recognized Bruce Fraser immediately; after all, he's one of the biggest millionaires in the US. Then we realized how... close you two were. We've been following you around, hoping to get you alone."

"Yeah. I'm sure Mr. Fraser will give up a small fortune to have his lover back at his side." Benzin laughed merrily. "Up and at 'em, boy. We have places to be and ransoms to demand."

Ezra sighed and rose to his feet, allowing Collins to bind his wrists. There was no way he could escape, not with three firearms aimed at his head. Perhaps the only solution was to wait for Bruce to pay the ransom and hope these men wouldn't kill him afterwards. At least he would stick to that plan until a better one came along.

Bruce got to live after all, and without having to suffer any torture. It was an annoying thought.

---

Ezra was expertly driven through the jungle, until they reached a clearing where a pavilion had been erected. Benzin shut down the jeep's engine just as a fourth man exited the pristine white tent.

"That's our boss, Geils," Bloom said helpfully, pulling Ezra out of the jeep and towards Geils.

"I see you finally managed to capture our prey," Geils said softly, a smile playing on his lips. Ezra watched warily as the mercenary's blue eyes explored his body with a cool, smoldering interest. It made him uneasy to realize Geils was openly showing sexual interest in him. "Did you search him?" the gang's leader finally asked.

"No." Collins replied.

Geils chuckled, approaching Ezra slowly. "Then, by all means, allow me." Ezra gritted his teeth as Geils 'searched' him thoroughly, or in other words, pawed at him more fervently than strictly necessary. The only thing found was his wallet, and Geils raised his eyebrows in surprise as he looked inside. "FBI? An idle millionaire and a Fed? You two *are* quite the pair, aren't you?" He looked at Benzin. "Go back to town, find Fraser and tell him we have his boyfriend. Tell him he either gives us two million dollars by Friday or we will deliver Agent Standish here back to him... piece by piece." He brushed his fingers lightly over Ezra's jaw. "And it would be such a shame to ruin perfection. Bloom, take him inside."

"Right, boss." Bloom dragged Ezra inside the tent, throwing him on the floor. "Now, behave or we'll be forced to hurt you. I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't be too happy to get you back with a broken arm or leg, would he?"

---

Left temporarily alone, Ezra didn't waste any time exploring his surroundings. The inside of the tent was spartan. A table and four chairs stood near the center, a few backpacks were tucked in a corner, along with two lamps, four bedrolls, canteens, jerry cans of water, and crates of provisions.

"We travel light," Geils said, having walked in during Ezra's inspection of the place. "Due to our... profession we're forced to move often."

"What happens now?" Ezra asked.

"Now, if you give me your word not to try to escape, I'll let you to have some food and water, and a change of clothes. I believe we're about the same size."

"I'd appreciate that. However, that's not what I was referring to."

"I know," Geils replied, as he cut Ezra's ropes and helped him stand with surprising gentleness. "It's up to your boyfriend. If he pays the ransom, I'll let you go. If he doesn't, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you. Although I confess that in your case it will pain me to do so. But we do have a reputation to uphold round these parts."

Ezra snorted. "Of course." Geils gestured for him to sit at the table, and brought him some food and water, which Ezra gladly devoured. "So, you are actually attempting to convince me that if Bruce pays the ransom you won't kill me? You might be able to break camp at a second's notice, but even assuming you're using aliases, I have seen your faces. How can you let me live?"

Geils shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter who knows our names or faces. It's not the first time we've done this. The authorities will do nothing. This country is a gold mine for the right people. Most tribes are at war with each other, and are as primitive as they come, even by this continent's standards. Only the capital city shows any promise, and both the government and the big shots running it care only about power and the American dollar. We've been here for years and we're still running free. Right now, only Larabee's crowd poses any threat to us."

"Larabee?" Ezra asked, biting into a juicy peach, and frowning as Geils' eyes darkened and focused on his lips.

"A group of do-gooders who recently settled down in Shambala country. Their aim is to improve the tribes' living conditions, help put an end to their petty wars, if possible. And of course, put a stop to operators such as myself."

"What exactly do you do, besides kidnapping FBI agents and holding them for ransom?"

Geils smirked. "Oh, this and that. Whatever the guys with the big bucks want me to do. Now, I think it's time for that change of clothes." He rose from the table and set a basin on the wooden surface, which he filled with water. "I'm afraid showers are out of the question, but you can still wash away the dirt with this." Next he brought out a pair of cream khaki pants and an army green t-shirt. "I'm sure this will do for now."

"Thank you," Ezra said. Realizing Geils was still standing there looking at him expectantly, he added, "I suppose asking for a little privacy would be too much?"

The mercenary laughed. "You're a Fed, Ezra... Can I call you Ezra?"

"Oh, please do," Ezra muttered sarcastically.

"Thank you. As I was saying, you're a Fed. The moment I turn my back, you'd very likely try to leave my company. Besides, I'm certain I'll enjoy the show very, very much."

Flushing with both anger and embarrassment, Ezra stripped off his torn shirt, using it to clear the worse of the dirt clinging to his torso. He could feel Geils' eyes glued to his body, but refused to acknowledge the man or to make matters worse by snapping at him. After donning the t-shirt, he took off his equally ruined pants, rushing to clean himself up and nearly sighing with relief when he was once again fully clothed. Geils seemed about ready to pounce on him and that was the last thing he needed.

"I can see what Fraser sees in you," Geils said, his voice husky. "You have a beautiful body, Ezra. Tell me, are you a top or a bottom?"

"None of your business," Ezra snarled angrily, sick of the man and his disgusting stare.

Geils didn't seem offended or upset at his tone. "Perhaps. But I would love to find out. And maybe I will, soon."

With that Geils finally left the tent, but before Ezra could even think of an escape route, both Bloom and Collins were back to guard him. It seemed more urgent than ever for Ezra to make a break for it as soon as possible. He didn't think Geils would resist the forbidden fruit for long, no matter the outcome of his 'business' with Bruce.

---

Ezra hadn't meant to fall asleep siting at the table, but after hours tramping through the jungle and the fight with the cannibals, he had been exhausted. He woke up to the sound of the jeep returning, night having fallen long ago. Collins was waiting for Benzin with Geils, but Bloom was still keeping an eye on him.

Ezra watched through the open tent door as the three men outside talked quietly by a small fire; Benzin was obviously recounting his talk with Bruce. After a while, Geils nodded and walked in, leaving the other two to sit by the fire.

"Out!" he ordered Bloom, who rushed to obey.

The mercenary sat near Ezra, the light from the two oil lamps illuminating the pavilion enough for the man's grim expression to be perfectly visible. Ezra's heart tightened at that; something was amiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hardly aware he was whispering.

"I'm afraid I have bad news, Ezra," Geils said, and he seemed honestly sorry.

"Bruce refused to pay the ransom?" Ezra ventured, only half-surprised.

"Not exactly. When Benzin arrived at the hotel you two had been staying in, Bruce was gone."

Ezra shot up from his chair, not sure if he had heard correctly. "What?! What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"I mean that he paid for the room, asked the receptionist to hold your things for a few days and caught a flight back to the States. He left you behind."

"The little..." Ezra snapped, angrily. "I suppose it's too late to hire your services and have you torture that son of a bitch to death?"

Geils chuckled. "Way too late. I'd be arrested the moment I set foot in the States. Same thing with Bloom and Benzin. But I still know a few people in the right circles. If you really want it done..."

"No! No," Ezra repeated more calmly. "I was merely... blowing off steam. I can't believe he left without so much as a second thought, after our fight this morning." He sat dejectedly on the table. "Now what?"

"Normally, I'd kill you, since I'd have no further use for you. Fraser having left means we'll get no money. But there's something about you..." Geils shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. "I'd like to propose a deal."

Ezra narrowed his eyes. "A deal?"

Geils nodded. "Stay here, Ezra, with me. I'm not a man who often indulges in his carnal desires or allows others to witness them. But I lost it the moment I laid eyes on you. I'd very much like you as part of our team, and being a Fed, you have what it takes."

"How can you trust me not to run the first chance I get?" Ezra asked, curiously.

"You'd be watched for a while, of course. But in this business, there comes a moment when there is no turning back and you'd be in as deep as we are."

"Meaning I would be stuck with you," Ezra drawled sarcastically. "I assume there would be other... duties I would be bound to perform for you?"

Geils didn't pretend to misunderstand. "My bedroll has been empty for a very long time, Ezra. Perhaps I'm not what you consider appealing, but I'm sure you'll come to enjoy my touch in time, and I promise never to hurt you. Not unless you give me cause to."

Ezra pretended to think about it, while in reality attempting to discover a solution to his plight. There was no way he was going to become a mercenary, and worse, Geils' plaything, but he was certainly in deep water. Bruce had been the one with the money, the one who had offered to pay for the vacation. Ezra was stuck in Shambala without a penny to his name and no way back home. Still, first things first.

"All right," he finally said. "It's not like I have any other choice, and I value my life."

"Excellent!" Geils jumped up from his chair, taking hold of Ezra's hand and pulling him to his feet. "You won't regret this, Ezra, I promise," he assured him, just before his mouth came down on Ezra's.

Ezra forced himself to respond to the hard and demanding kiss, parting his lips. An idea suddenly sprang to mind. Making sure Geils had his eyes closed, he reached for the lamp sitting on the table, his lips never losing contact with the other man's. When the lamp was firmly gripped in his hand, he slammed it against Geils' head, grinning as the man crumbled to the ground in an untidy heap.

"Serves you right, you disgusting bastard," he muttered.

Fearful the loud sound might have been heard by the others, Ezra peered outside, but the mercenaries were still sitting by the fire, sharing a bottle of whiskey. With luck, they would drink themselves into an alcoholic stupor, allowing him to steal the jeep and get the hell out of here.

But before he did that, he had to make certain Geils wouldn't make any noise. Checking to make sure he hadn't hit Geils too hard, he rummaged in the backpacks until he found rope and a piece of cloth. He then bound and gagged his would-be lover, and set out to wait until the other three were out of commission.

---

Bloom was the first to drop, then Benzin, and finally Collins. Obviously his larger build made him more resistant to alcohol. Ezra waited until he was certain they had passed out before slowly crawling out of the tent, towards the jeep. He reached it without a hitch, only to realize there was no key in the ignition.

Fiercely glad he had learned how to hotwire a car at a young age, he spent precious seconds doing just that, always keeping an eye on the drunken men snoring by the fire. He sighed with relief as the vehicle purred to life, then set the headlights to maximum, and began to drive through the undergrowth.

Bloom staggered abruptly out of the darkness and into the bright gleam of the headlights, his machine gun aimed at the jeep. "Stop!" he slurred, swaying dangerously.

"Get out of the way!" Ezra retorted, having no intention of surrendering now.

"No, you stop!" Bloom shouted, adjusting his aim.

"Fine." Ezra stepped on the gas pedal, purposely hitting Bloom. The impact flung him into in the air. He landed on the jeep's windshield before collapsing on the ground.

Ezra didn't stop to see if Bloom was still alive; he kept driving through the tangled thicket, holding the wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he prayed he wouldn't hit a tree or any of the night creatures he glimpsed occasionally as he sped by. Lady Luck must have been on his side, for he kept going steadily, making good time, getting further and further away from Geils' camp.

It was dawn when the jeep finally made a sputtering noise and halted. It had run out of gas. Ezra got out of the vehicle and glared at it, as if willing it to start again. Now, what?

---

Part II - Chance Meetings

They had been returning to their camp after a night spent with the Durak tribe when Chris heard the rumble of a jeep driving in their direction, then suddenly dying down. Signaling the others, they made their way towards the sound, weapons ready, as there had been sightings of Geils and his lackeys in the area recently.

The vehicle was Geils' all right. Chris recognized it as soon as he saw the license plate, but the man standing next to it wasn't one he had seen before. He would have remembered. Tight cream khaki pants and an even tighter green t-shirt framed a lithe, but muscled body that spoke of controlled strength and fluidity.

Chris cocked his gun. "Hold it."

The stranger turned at the sound, green eyes throwing daggers at them as he huffed, "Well, and what do you gentlemen want with me? To eat me, fuck me, or kill me?" he asked bluntly.

By Chris' side, Buck laughed heartily. "Seems like you're having a bad day there, pard. Something we can do to help?"

"That would depend on you," the man replied. "And what your intentions towards my person are."

Nathan pointed towards the vehicle. "That jeep belongs to Geils."

Chris noticed the increase in tension in the stranger's body.

"Are you and Geils acquaintances?" the man asked softly.

JD snorted. "Hardly. We've been trying to catch him for months now."

The stranger tilted his head, pensively. "One of you gentlemen wouldn't happen to be named Larabee?"

Hiding his surprise that this man should know his name, Chris nodded. "I am. Chris Larabee."

"Ezra Standish," the man introduced himself with a lopsided smile. "Geils did mention you, as a crowd of do-gooders, if I'm not mistaken. And before you ask, no, I am not one of his henchmen. I was merely unfortunate enough to run into them yesterday. If you still wish to pursue him, you might follow the tracks I left as I drove here. Shouldn't be too difficult. However, considering I wasn't a willing guest of Geils' and that I managed to escape last night, I highly doubt his camp remains where I last saw it."

"We'll chance it anyway. Mind going with us? We might need a hand," Josiah said. "They're a small group, but nasty. I'm Josiah Sanchez, by the way. This is Buck Wilmington, Vin Tanner, JD Dunne, Nathan Jackson. Chris you already know."

Ezra nodded. "All right. If Mr. Larabee has no objections, I would appreciate joining you. It would be a pleasure to witness Geils being apprehended."

"No objections," Chris assured, trying to get a feel for Standish. The man was soft-spoken, obviously intelligent, and quick on the uptake. He also appeared fearless and seemed to adjust to a situation with amazing ease.

"We have two jeeps hidden not far from here," Vin said. "Come on."

JD drove the first one, with Nathan, Josiah and Vin as his passengers. Chris took the wheel of the second, with Ezra by his side, and Buck in the back seat. They began to backtrack Ezra's path through the jungle, going as fast as they could considering the terrain, but Chris had to agree with the mysterious man by his side; Geils and his men were probably long gone.

"So, what do you gentlemen do out here in the middle of all this flora and fauna?" Ezra asked, eyes on a pair of monkeys playing tag through the tree-tops.

"Didn't Geils tell you?" Chris took the opportunity to glance at the other man without being noticed.

"Not much. Besides mentioning you had been attempting to capture him, all he said was that you wished to improve the local tribes' living conditions and prevent them fighting each other."

"That's true. We were hired by Judge Orrin Travis to come down here. You might've heard of him, he was pretty well known back home for speaking his mind," Buck said. "His son, Stephen, was with UNICEF. Two years ago, Stephen visited Shambala during a charity operation and ended up staying. He divided his time between helping out the poorer tribes and running a small newspaper that did its best to unmask the government's illegal dealings with mercenaries, and their shady business deals with other companies, countries and so on. He turned up dead last year, murdered. No one knows what happened, the killer was never found. The Judge and his daughter-in-law, Mary, decided to keep Stephen's work alive. She runs the newspaper, although at a more low-key pace, and he throws fund-raisers so we can remain here and do what we can for these people."

"What exactly does each of you do?" Ezra asked.

"Nathan's a doctor, Josiah is an anthropologist, JD can drive or fly anything with an engine, Buck and I were hired to keep the peace, and Vin is our guide," Chris told him. "His folks were explorers, came to Shambala when he was five and ended up dying in a cave-in accident. He was taken in by the Durak tribe, can speak most of the local dialects and knows the backcountry better than he knows himself."

Ezra gave Chris a shrewd glance. "And what did you and Mr. Wilmington do before you were hired to 'keep the peace'?"

"We were mercenaries."

Ezra nodded. "Like Geils."

"We're nothing like Geils!" Chris snarled, offended. "That bastard raids villages and kidnaps women to sell into the sex trade, or the strongest men to be taken to the diamond and gold mines the government insists don't exist."

"I'm sorry," Ezra said, contrite. "I didn't mean to suggest you were like him, just that you had at one time shared the same profession. Not all mercenaries are the same, like not all doctors, or teachers, or politicians are the same. But I sense a particular urgency for finding Geils?"

"Yeah," Buck chimed in. "He stole a shipment meant for us. It had medication and vaccines, among other things, that we desperately need to stop a virus spreading to some of the local villages. It's harmless to us, a sort of influenza virus, but for these people... We're talking malnourished, never vaccinated, lacking everything we take for granted. Their bodies just can't fight it."

"And Geils stole the shipment?" The anger in Ezra's voice was clear.

"Yes. Somehow he was told about it and got to the airport before we got there. We know he sold it to someone and we need to know who, so we can get back as much of it as possible. It'll be months before Travis has enough money to send us more vaccines," Chris said grimly, remembering the deaths he had witnessed during the last weeks. The virus didn't spare anyone, not women, not children, not men. It was ravaging the villages like the plague, killing by the dozens to a point that some tribes were even at risk of disappearing completely as all their members were dying.

"I wish I had known. Perhaps I could have made him tell me who he sold it to." Ezra shook his head. "I didn't hit him hard enough."

"You hit him?" Buck sounded surprised. "How did you run into him anyway? And since we're on the subject, what do *you* do for a living?"

"Ah... I'm an FBI agent. As for my run-in with Geils... a friend and I were here on vacation. My friend is Bruce Fraser, the -"

"The millionaire?" Buck interrupted.

"Yes. Geils and his men saw us together and decided to follow us for a few days and kidnap me when the chance arose, so they could ask Bruce for a ransom. Only by the time they finally captured me, Bruce had been forced to return to the States and they lost the ransom. Knowing they were going to kill me, I provided for my own emancipation. I managed to knock Geils out, waited until his men were passed out drunk and stole the jeep. I did run over Bloom, I'm not certain if he's alive. I drove all night and then met you gentlemen."

Chris frowned as he heard the story. Somehow he knew there were some details missing, but he wasn't about to press Ezra for them. It was none of their business and it didn't feel right to pry. Besides Chris had to concentrate on the important thing; catching Geils. They needed to get that shipment back before it was too late for the people in Shambala.

---

Even with the help of daylight, it took them a few hours to reach the location of Geils' camp. And as Ezra had predicted, the mercenaries were gone. All except for Bloom, whose body was lying lifeless on the ground.

"Guess you did kill him after all, Ezra," Vin said as he kicked the dead man lightly. "Couldn't think of a better end for this slimeball."

"Now what?" JD asked. "Maybe Vin can track them? We can look for their new camp."

Chris shook his head. "It'd be a waste of time. Geils will be sure to cover their tracks and is probably miles away by now. We better head back. We can take Ezra to town and ask around. Maybe someone knows who Geils sold the meds to."

"Can't find any trace of them anyhow," Vin said, while checking the ground in several different directions. "We'd be going round in circles. 'Sides, the vegetation is damn dense in these parts. Even if they weren't being careful, it would be hard to find anything."

"We should take Bloom's body with us. There's a reward for him, dead or alive," Josiah said. "We could buy some medication with the bounty, enough to treat the worse cases for a couple of days."

Nathan rubbed his forehead tiredly. "That's like trying to stop a gunshot wound from bleeding with a band-aid. But I guess it'll have to do."

Chris nodded, and they tied Bloom's body to the front of one of the jeeps. When they reached Shambala City, the two vehicles separated. JD and the others went to deliver Bloom to the authorities and collect the reward, while Chris and Buck went to see Ezra off.

Once parked in front of Ezra's hotel, Chris was oddly reluctant to see him go. He followed Ezra to the main entrance.

"You going back to the States?" he asked.

"Eventually. I might stay for a few weeks. After all, I was here on vacation before Geils came storming into my life."

Chris handed him a card. "This is the address of a bar here in town run by a friend, Inez. If you ever need anything, or if you want to get in touch with us, go there. She'll know how to reach us."

Ezra looked down at the card. "The Four Corners Bar. Inez. All right. Perhaps I'll pay you a visit before I leave. After all I didn't get to say goodbye to your friends. Or to thank you all for your assistance. If not for you, I would still be in the middle of the jungle waiting for a miraculous rescue."

"Well, you got us Bloom, so consider it even." He shook Ezra's hand firmly, holding it for a little longer than necessary. "See you around."

He went back to the jeep, sat behind the wheel, and watched as Ezra went inside the hotel.

"Nice, isn't he?" Buck said as he jumped from the backseat to the passenger seat.

Chris glared at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Buck chuckled. "Nothing. Just that I saw the way you were looking at him. It's been a while since I've seen you take an interest in anyone."

"Well, don't get your hopes up. He's leaving for home, remember?"

"Yeah. But I'm sure he isn't going today. You know where he's staying, you could see him tonight, maybe ask him out to dinner... Afterwards, you go up for a nightcap, one thing leads to another..."

Chris shook his head. "I don't think so. He didn't give me any hint that he's interested, and he didn't seem like an one-night stand kind of guy."

Buck shrugged. "So? Neither are you."

Chris gunned the jeep, not bothering to reply. Buck was right. He had liked Ezra a lot; the way he looked, his voice, the way his face dimpled as he smiled, even the way he felt, on the few occasions they had sort of bumped into each other. But he wasn't about to jump into bed with someone he had just met. No matter how desperate Buck thought him to be, he just didn't need the aggravation. Better to let it go.

---

Ezra watched through the tinted glass of the hotel doors as Chris and Buck finally drove away. A small, annoying part of himself had wanted to stay with those men, or at least with Chris. The man was an enigma, and as such extremely dangerous. Ezra had trouble turning down a challenge, and the occasional glance he had caught the blond giving him had assured him should he make an advance, Chris would definitely say yes.

The more cautious part of his brain reminded him that he had better things to worry about, and that he was still smarting from Bruce's careless attitude towards him. He should have ended that relationship long ago. It wasn't as if they loved each other madly. But he was his mother's son after all, and Bruce's money called to something dark and ugly inside of him. But no more. As soon as he got back to Atlanta he would tell Bruce what he could do with his money, or more precisely where to stick it.

How could two men be so different? Larabee obviously had no money, his chosen profession was dangerous, he lived in the middle of the jungle, and was basically everything Ezra had been taught all of his life to stay away from. And yet, Ezra knew Chris was a useful human being, doing what he could for his fellow men, while a bore like Bruce was only taking up space and consuming precious air.

But Ezra wasn't about to make any moves on Larabee. Firstly, the last thing he needed was to further complicate his life for the sake of one night of sex with the man. Secondly, after his encounter with Geils, all he wanted to do was take a hot bath and wash the mercenary's tainted memory from his body.

He shook his head to clear his jumbled thoughts, wondering how just a few hours in Larabee's company could have left him so confused. With a sigh, he walked over to the reception desk, ready to take over the reins of his life once again.

Half afraid the receptionist would refuse him a room without paying for at least a night in advance, he was relieved when she remembered him as Mr. Fraser's 'good friend' and not only rented him a room, but also made sure all his belongings - which Bruce had left abandoned at the hotel - were brought up immediately.

Once inside the room, he took a long, hot bath, then got dressed. The first thing on his list of things to do had been accomplished; he had a roof over his head. Next on the agenda was to get his hands on some money. He wasn't about to call his mother for help. More likely than not, she would refuse to lend him any. That left gambling. And the hotel's casino seemed like a good place to start.

---

Ezra resisted the urge to cackle gleefully as he looked down at his cards. Four days of playing poker at the casino and he already had enough money to go back home and live off of his earnings for a few weeks. Good thing he had been told about the backroom and the high stake games held there; he would have been wasting his talent on the tourist game played in the main hall.

He glanced at the man sitting before him, the last of the original players. The Shambalan was sweating profusely, and swallowed thickly on occasion, but there was something about his posture than warned Ezra he might have a good hand. Not enough to beat Ezra, though.

"Well?" Ezra finally asked.

His opponent smiled. "I win this time, Mr. Standish," he said proudly, placing his cards on the table. "Full house."

"A very good hand indeed, Mr. Jabulani," Ezra said. "However, mine is better. Royal Flush." He spread the cards on the wooden tabletop. "I win."

He made to reach for the winnings, but Jabulani's voice stopped him. "Mr. Standish, wait, please. How about a rematch? Winner takes all? Please?"

Ezra raised an eyebrow at the man. "I don't see any money on your side of the table."

Jabulani ran a handkerchief over his forehead, his whole demeanor somewhat nervous. "Yes, well... I confess that was the last of my money and the reason why I would like a chance to win it back. While I may not have any immediate cash, I do have something far more valuable. Something worth ten times the amount you won, especially if handled properly."

"And that something is?" Ezra asked, unable to curb his curiosity.

Jabulani leaned forward, while at the same time speaking in a whisper. "Have you heard of the virus plaguing this country's population?"

Ezra frowned in puzzlement. "The influenza virus? Yes. What of it?"

"I have recently... come into possession of an amount of medication. And I mean a large amount. Probably enough to vaccinate and cure the people in more than half of our villages and tribes."

"Have you, now?" Ezra drawled, fighting the compulsion to punch the smirk off the man's face. So this was the buyer of Larabee's medical shipment. This was the man who Geils had sold it to.

Jabulani nodded eagerly. "Indeed. Sold on the black market it'll be worth twice, maybe three times the amount I paid. I will play you for it."

Ezra wanted very much to ask some questions, like how and why the man had wanted the medication in the first place, and if he knew how to get in touch with Geils. But asking those questions would make Jabulani suspicious and he would probably withdraw his offer. And after meeting Chris and the others every night at the Four Corners Bar, he knew they were slowly going crazy trying to find the missing shipment.

The solution was to win the medication and then let Chris have a go at Jabulani. After all, Ezra knew where the Shambalan was staying and where to find him most of the day.

"Very well, you're on."

Jabulani rubbed his hands together. "Good, good. Let's play."

Ezra had played with Jabulani the day before as well, and both games had proved fairly easy to win. This one was no exception. In the end, he was the last one standing.

"It seems one man's misfortune is another man's luck," he said to Jabulani as he pocketed the cash. "Now, perhaps you could lead me to the remainder of my winnings?"

Jabulani was clearly brooding, but nodded sullenly. "Of course. Please, come with me."

To Ezra's surprise, Jabulani took him to the hotel's underground garage. There - hidden in plain sight - stood three trucks marked with the insignia of a local fertilizer company. Ezra raised the canvas of the closest one, whistling softly at the pile of boxes filling it; row after row, going as far up as possible. He opened two of the boxes at random, wanting to make sure he wasn't being swindled, then smiled, satisfied.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Jabulani," he said, hoping the dismissal was clear in his tone.

It was. Jabulani bowed slightly and left without another word, leaving Ezra alone with his treasure. Walking over to the entrance, but holding a position in which he could watch the trucks and his surroundings, Ezra reached inside his wallet for Chris' card, and dialed the bar's number on his cellular.

"Inez? Ezra," he said when there was an answer on the other end of the line. "Is Chris or any of the others there? Good. No, no need to hand over the phone. Just let him know I need them to meet me immediately at the underground garage in my hotel. It's beyond urgent. Good. I will be waiting, then. Goodnight, my dear."

He finished the call and leaned against the wall, watching the crowd thinning as night lengthened and the witching hour grew closer. His eyes strayed to the three trucks and he shook his head ruefully at the irony of it all. While Chris and his men had been desperately searching for those same vehicles and their contents, they had been resting right under Ezra's nose. Life's little mischiefs were diabolical at times.

---

Part III - On a Mission

They left the two jeeps parked by the side of the hotel and continued on foot to the garage. As soon as Chris spotted Ezra, he knew there was something wrong. While the man himself had a poker face and was definitely not easy to read, Chris had begun to grasp Ezra's body language. Not to mention that for all of Ezra's nonchalance regarding certain matters, all you had to do was search within those wide green eyes, and all the other man's carefully hidden emotions would suddenly become clear.

At the moment, Ezra was standing against a wall, glancing around, body tense and at attention, as if he feared an unexpected attack. He turned his head abruptly as he heard their footsteps, and to Chris' pleasure, he relaxed as soon as he realized who they were.

Before Chris could say a word, though, Ezra gave them an enigmatic smile and gestured with a finger for them to follow. They moved through the ground level quietly, until finally Ezra stopped.

"Gentlemen, I believe this is your property," he said, moving aside a canvas covering the back of a truck.

JD gasped. "Oh, wow," he breathed. "How did you -?"

"Come to be in possession of such a precious loot?" Ezra quipped. "I won it at a poker game, if you can believe it. I thought it best not to ask any questions of my opponent, but I can tell you he resides at this precise hotel, goes by the name of Jabulani, and works at InfoShambala. What you do with that information is up to you. Now, I suggest you remove these trucks out of here immediately. I wouldn't put it past Mr. Jabulani to attempt to retrieve his former merchandise."

Chris nodded. He would make sure to send Vin and Buck to have a 'word' with Jabulani in the near future. But for now, they had more important things to focus on.

"JD, Vin, Nathan, drive the trucks back to camp. Buck, Josiah, take one of the jeeps and go with them. I want to have a word with Ezra. I'll follow as soon as possible." Once they were alone, Chris smiled at Ezra. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, sir," Ezra replied, sharing his smile. "I didn't have much to do with this happy occurrence, really. Blame it on Lady Luck, or destiny, if you will. My role was but a small one."

"But very important. Listen, now that we have the vaccines, we'll be away for the next three to four days, trying to get that stuff to as many people as possible. You wanna go with us? Nathan can show you what to do. It would mean sleeping in the trucks or on the hard ground for a few nights, eating canned food, no modern comforts, no showers... What do you say?" He noticed the hesitation lurking in Ezra's eyes and played his trump card. "Please, Ezra?"

Ezra gave him a feigned scowl. "Oh, very well. In any case I could use a change of scenery."

Chris grinned. "Great! Go to your room and pack clothes for a few days, and anything else you think you'll need. Keep it light, though. I'll wait in the jeep."

He walked slowly back to the jeep after they parted, feeling something warm inside at the thought of having Ezra with them for a few days. The more he saw of the man, the more he enjoyed his company. They seemed to have crossed the line from perfect strangers to friends in only a few days. And Chris liked that feeling very much.

---

The next morning, the seven men divided themselves among the three trucks and headed in different directions. Josiah and Nathan went north; Vin, JD and Buck, south; and Chris and Ezra, east. The capital was to the west, and so far the local hospital had been able to control the virus in town.

Ezra had been surprised to realize just what was required of him on the mission; since Nathan was the only medical professional among them, and couldn't be everywhere at once, all of them would have to play doctor and vaccinate and medicate the population themselves. He'd had a swift crash course on what to do, how to do it, and what quantity each person should be allowed to take, and then they had departed.

By nine they were arriving at the first village. Ezra had been enjoying the ride, alternated between comfortable silence and small talk, when Chris spoke to him, his voice suddenly very serious.

"Brace yourself for what you're about to see, Ezra. You might've seen something similar on TV, but the real deal is a lot more intense."

Somewhat puzzled by what Chris meant, Ezra nodded. Once the truck had stopped he jumped out of his seat, relieved to be able to stretch and looked around. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him. The village couldn't have more than twenty huts altogether. They looked like they were made of dry sticks, not hard wood, and only a piece of cloth served as a door.

It had rained during the night, so the ground was muddy and small puddles were visible all around. A stream floated near by, its water brownish and obviously not fit to drink, but still women and children were filling pots and pans made of orange clay, and taking them to their homes. A few yards away a small group of women were washing their cooking utensils and clothing, and men were watering their livestock.

A few chickens were walking about, among the humans, like they hadn't a care in the world, and he spotted a dog or two. But it was the people and the way they looked that shocked him. Men, women and children alike were thin to the point of death, the children in particular. In most of the kids you could see their ribs clearly, while others had blown-up bellies, a clear sign of malnourishment. Some of the women seemed to curve with age, almost hunchbacked, and the older men walked slowly, as if each step took an enormous effort.

"My Lord," he whispered, feeling his eyes misting.

"It's painful to look at, isn't it?" Chris asked quietly by his side, a comforting hand resting on Ezra's shoulder.

"Makes me want to turn around and run," Ezra confessed softly. "How do you -" he trailed off, lost for words.

"Stand it? Get used to it? We don't. It hurts everytime. Gets worse sometimes when you realize you can never do enough, not until the government starts to care for its own people. One in three of these people are malnourished. They use the stream for bathing, washing and the children even pee in it, increasing the risk of sickness and disease. One year they have floods, the next droughts. There's no sanitation, no medical care, and not enough food as their crops rarely survive the unstable climate. It's... a nightmare. Buck and I, we were supposed to stay for just a few months, to make sure the others got settled in. But we just couldn't leave, not after seeing these people. But we do make a difference, Ezra, even if it's a small one." He smiled at Ezra, eyes filled with understanding. "One day at a time."

Ezra found himself smiling back at the other man. "One day at a time," he echoed. "How about we start this one?"

"I'm with you, Ezra."

---

For the rest of the day, Chris watched with a sense of awe as, without so much as understanding a word, or counting on Chris' limited help in that respect, Ezra nevertheless charmed the Shambalese in the villages they visited, in particular the children. He seemed to connect with them on levels that required no language skills. They managed to travel to eight villages and in all of them the same would happen. As soon as everyone was vaccinated and medication had been handed out, Ezra was certain to have a bunch of children laughing and chasing him around, a modern pied piper in a ravished land.

By the end of the day both men were sweaty, covered in mud and both wore matching satisfied grins. They crawled back into the truck, and remained seated for a while without saying a word. Finally Ezra sighed, relaxing against the backrest, and closing his eyes.

"Now what?" he asked softly.

"We've done enough for one day. Now I'll take you to paradise."

Ezra laughed at his words. "Is that a promise?"

Chris ignored the thrill the husky voice sent all over his body, and joined in the laughter. "Yep. You've earned it. You did good today, Ezra."

"Thank you. So did you."

Chris gunned the engine and began to drive slowly to the spot he had in mind, looking curiously at his companion as Ezra chuckled softly. "What?"

Ezra shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, let me in on the secret. What's up?"

"It's rather silly," Ezra began. "But I seem to be experiencing a wonderful sense of fulfillment," he grimaced playfully at Chris. "Silly, yes?"

"Silly, no," Chris reassured him. "I feel the same, Ezra. It's only natural."

"It's such a peculiar feeling, though. I became an FBI agent because I wanted to accomplish something, to make a difference. And although not as often as I would have liked, I *have* made that difference. But I have never felt anything even remotely close to what I'm feeling at this moment."

"Like I said, you earned it, we both did. Now, we're here. Close your eyes."

Ezra frowned at him. "Why?"

"'Cause it's a surprise. Go on, close your eyes." When Ezra obeyed, Chris got out of the truck, then helped Ezra out too, taking both of his hands. "Keep your eyes closed. Trust me, I won't let you fall."

Step by step he took Ezra closer to his goal, until Ezra cocked one head to the side. "I hear water," he said. "Sounds strange. What is it?"

"Open your eyes and see."

The waterfall was hidden behind thick forest and rock ledges, and was such a breathtaking sight that Ezra remained silent, lips parted in wonder as Chris grinned at his reaction. It had been his reaction too, when Vin had first showed him that piece of heaven. All around the tall waterfall, the jungle was at its lushest, the water was crystalline, and the splashing of the water created a small rainbow that filled the deep pool created by the falls with color.

"Paraphrasing Mr. Dunne, 'Oh, wow'!" Ezra looked at Chris. "How did you discover such a great place?"

"Vin. Like I told you the day we met, he knows this country better than he knows himself. It's getting dark, we better make camp. I think it's going to be a warm night, so we could sleep outside. There's still too many boxes in the back of the truck and it'll be more comfortable lying on the ground than curling up in the cabin. What do you say?"

"I agree."

They made a small fire, brought out their sleeping bags, then went to the pool and washed their faces and hands before preparing something to eat. They were sharing a cup of coffee, gazing up at the dark sky as more and more stars became visible, when Chris decided to say the words going around in his head.

"Ezra?"

Green eyes looked up curiously at him, the light from the fire making them look oddly catlike. "Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're here."

Ezra gave him an affectionate smile. "I am too. I've done many things that I have deeply regretted afterwards. This is definitely not one of them. Thank you for inviting me." He yawned widely. "I apologize. I wasn't aware I was this fatigued."

Chris chuckled. "It's okay. It's been a long day and we worked hard. Go to sleep. We have round two tomorrow."

He stoked the fire as Ezra slipped into his sleeping bag, then after making sure the camp was secure, Chris joined the other man, placing his bag close to Ezra's. He relaxed into its warmth, sighing deeply as his body finally relaxed after the grueling day.

"Goodnight, Ezra," he murmured, already feeling drowsy.

"Goodnight, Chris."

Half an hour later, however, Chris was still very much awake, and torn between amusement and annoyance. The reason why he wasn't resting was lying by his side, wriggling and twisting continuously.

"Ezra," he finally said. "Would you keep still, for pity's sake?"

"Everywhere I lie there's a root sticking into my back," came the whined reply, muffled by the bag.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Chris couldn't help but mutter, "Be glad it isn't sticking somewhere else."

"You're hilarious, Mr. Larabee, simply hilarious."

So they were back to 'Mr. Larabee' again, were they? Chris leaned forward, rubbing his hand gently over Ezra's shoulder. "Just close your eyes, imagine you're back in your own bed, with a soft mattress and a lovely down pillow."

He kept his touch light, feeling the body beneath his hand grow less tense until finally Ezra's breathing changed into one of deep sleep. Shaking his head and chuckling again softly to himself, Chris laid back down and closed his eyes. Yep, he was damn glad Ezra was there with him. Even if it would make the next few nights a challenge.

---

Chris awoke just as the sun began to rise. He looked up into the thick trees above him, at the blue sky peeking through the near-solid blanket of leaves, and wondered for a moment where he was. Rolling onto his side, he spotted the empty sleeping bag lying on the ground and looked around for his companion.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw Ezra bathing in the pool, water up to his waist, pale body glistening in the early morning sun. He watched as the appealing form vanished for a moment, ducking under the water to rinse the suds from the smooth skin, only to resurface seconds later, dark hair clinging carelessly to his face.

Chris shifted restlessly in his sleeping bag, filled with something akin to dread as he realized that his body was responding to the vision before him. He would never be able to get rid of his erection without Ezra noticing, and now that he was getting close to the other man, he didn't want his attraction to Ezra to ruin everything.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Chris watched as Ezra made his way to the waterfall, standing on a rock and allowing the spraying waters to bathe him gently. Head thrown back, body arching, tossing the dripping hair from his face and his eyes, Ezra was a wet dream come to life and Chris moaned hungrily.

Finally, Ezra jumped into the pool, swimming lazily to the bank before he got out, water running in rivulets from his hair and down his naked chest. Chris laid back down, pretending to still be asleep, not wanting to be caught spying. He listened as Ezra came closer, recognized the sound of cloth rubbing against moist skin, stifling a sigh as Ezra got dressed.

The air shifted as Ezra sat beside him, his voice startling Chris. "I know you watched." Ezra's voice was hushed.

Chris opened his eyes, seeing Ezra looking down at him with an easy smile. "I'm sorry."

Ezra shook his damp head. "Don't be. I didn't really mind; in fact, I'm flattered. I know there was an instant attraction when we met. It's satisfying to know that hasn't changed."

Chris sat up as well. "No, it hasn't changed at all, on the contrary. But other things have. The day we met, Buck tried to convince me to go to your hotel, to ask you out. But even then, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do it. One-night stands you pick up somewhere, take home and screw senseless. There's no need to exchange names, pleasantries, or small talk. I didn't want that with you then, and I don't want it now."

Ezra nodded his understanding. "Same here. So what do we do?"

Chris shrugged slightly. "Let it roll? See what happens? No pressure. I'm enjoying having you as a friend. If something more happens, great, if not... this is enough. I have been meaning to ask you something, though."

Ezra cocked his head at him. "What?"

"Would you consider staying in Shambala? I know you must be used to a whole different lifestyle, and here what you see is what you get. But we could really use another pair of hands, and I'd like you to work with us. You're a natural, Ezra. I'm probably asking too much..."

Ezra shook his head slowly. "I'm still flattered." His expression turned serious. "You aren't asking as much of me as you may think. I wasn't entirely truthful when we met. The real reason Geils wanted to ask Bruce for a ransom was because he discovered Bruce and I were involved. But if I go back, we are definitely over. That relationship shouldn't even have begun in the first place. As for the job... It's becoming harder and harder to go to work every morning. More often than not, the criminals we arrest are back on the streets before we are done with the paperwork. And lately... there have been some rumors that I'm on the take. They're not true, and I have no idea what or who started them, but it isn't making my life any easier."

"I can imagine. So, you're staying?" Chris asked carefully.

"Still want me to?" Ezra sounded just as hesitant.

Chris frowned. "Why shouldn't I?"

"I told you about the rumors that I'm on the take," Ezra said.

"You also said they aren't true. Good enough for me. At least think about my offer, all right?"

"All right," Ezra agreed, a mischievous gleam entering his eyes. "Now, we must get moving and you still need to wash the dirt off of you. And it is only just that I get to watch you bathing as well. Turnabout being fairplay and all that."

It took an effort, but Chris managed not to flush at the heated glance Ezra sent his way. "Geez, you don't play fair," he muttered.

He made his way to the pool, perversely taking off his clothes at a slower pace than necessary, aware of the eyes following his every move. He dove into the cool water, emerging a moment later to a wolf whistle.

"Nice behind!" Ezra shouted from the bank.

Chris turned to glare at the other man, but lost his battle to laughter, joining in with Ezra in shared mirth. It felt good to be that free again, that relaxed and contented. And he owed it all to the green-eyed devil grinning cheekily at him from their campsite.

---

Part IV - Strangeness

Three days later, exhausted but satisfied with the results of their work, Chris and Ezra arrived at the Durak village where they were to meet with the other men. The Durak were some of the friendliest people in the small country, and thanks to Vin's close relationship with his adopted tribe, the six men had formed good friendships with the villagers, who kept an eye on their camp whenever Chris and the others had to be away.

Seeing an old man approaching them determinedly, Chris got out of the truck, followed closely by Ezra. "That's Hiji, one of the tribe's elders," Chris told his companion. "He's the one who raised Vin." When the man was standing next to them, Chris shook Hiji's hand warmly. "Hiji, this is Ezra, a friend of ours. Ezra, Hiji."

Hiji bowed slightly. "Any friend of these ruffians is a friend of mine," he said in perfect English, a warm smile lighting up his wrinkled face.

Ezra chuckled. "Likewise. Seems like we are the first to arrive," he commented, glancing around.

"Indeed. I was anxious to see you back. Tebogo from the Ubani tribe saw Geils and his men approximately a day's journey away from here, to the north. That was two days ago, plenty of time for him to get closer," Hiji said. "Also, I am not certain if this is to do with Geils, but Obasi found a white man unconscious this morning, some hours walk from the village. He and his wife stopped here a month ago on their way to N'bulungi. They are doctors of some kind, went by the names of John and Becca Isaac. From what little they told us, they had been hired by our government to do some experiments. On what, I do not know."

Chris frowned at the news. "And you found him unconscious?"

"Yes. He was badly beaten. Our healer has been trying his best, but I am not very hopeful. The damage was extensive and he might have internal injuries. We have tried calling for an ambulance to take him to Shambala City, but you know how it is. Without any roads, it will take hours before they reach us. And you know they give priority to cases within city limits."

"And the wife? Any sign of her?" Ezra asked.

"None. I sent men to try to track the man's path, see where he had come from. Perhaps it would lead them to her. They followed Isaac's trail for hours, going north to the N'bulungi region. My guess is that in spite of his wounds, he managed to walk a long while before finally collapsing. Whatever happened, it was within N'bulungi. As you know that place is forbidden to us, so the men came back."

"Forbidden?" Ezra asked, curiously.

"Yes. Very few people who have ventured into the region have ever made it out alive," Chris explained. "We'll have to do it, though. We have to find Isaac's wife, especially if Geils is in the area. Chances are his men were the ones who attacked that man. Come with me?" he asked Ezra, once again aware he was demanding too much of the other man, but unwilling to have Ezra leave his side.

Ezra gave him a sardonic smile. "What, and miss the opportunity to explore a forbidden land and never to be seen again? Why, I wouldn't remain behind for all the money in the world, sir. Lead on, McDuff."

Chris gave him a mock glare. "We still have to pack first. Make sure your canteen is full, N'bulungi is about a six hour walk north of here, and the sun is going to be at its worst in a couple of hours. Hiji, think you could spare us some provisions? Enough for a day or two? We can divide them into our backpacks."

Hiji nodded and left them alone, already calling for some of the women to help him gather everything necessary.

"Why can't we drive to our destination?" Ezra asked, and Chris caught him giving the truck a wistful look.

"No road or path wide enough. Walking is the only way to get there," Chris replied, grinning at Ezra's disgusted grimace. "We should get there mid-afternoon, then we'll have to search for Isaac's campsite. I have an extra gun in my backpack, I want you to have it. If Geils is out there, we might need it."

Ezra nodded wordlessly, obviously realizing the seriousness of the situation. Once they were all packed to go, they said their goodbyes to Hiji.

"I hope the ambulance gets here soon," Chris said. "If not, hopefully Nathan and Josiah won't be much longer now. When all the others get here, tell them where we've gone and to follow us. We might need help."

"Consider it done," Hiji stated, shaking both men's hands. "Be careful, my friends, and watch each other's backs. N'bulungi is a dangerous place."

"We will, Hiji, we will. See ya in a few days."

"I assume you know the way?" Ezra asked as they began their trek.

"Yep. Vin has taken me to N'bulungi's borders a couple of times. Never actually made it into the region, though. Once we get there, we'll have to depend on keeping our eyes and ears open, and on your Lady Luck."

Ezra groaned. "We're doomed."

---

Ezra dropped on top of his sleeping bag with a relieved sigh. He didn't think he would ever be able to walk again, not without feeling every single one of his muscles protesting vehemently against the day's harsh treatment. But at least they had made good time, reaching N'bulungi around five in the afternoon.

After being entertained for hours with Chris' tales of lost tribesmen and foreigners, Ezra had half expected to be greeted by the Grim Reaper himself, or maybe by a deadly thunderbolt, a hail of brimstone, or something else equally eerie.

Instead, they had been met with absolute silence. An oppressive silence, something so unnatural in an African jungle that it froze one's heart until one got used to it. No animals could be heard or seen for as far as they searched. There was no wind or breeze rustling the flora around them. It was as if they were caught inside an invisible bubble, unable to connect with the world surrounding them.

Finding the Isaac's campsite had taken three hours and the sun was beginning to set as they finally reached it. There were clear signs of a struggle, some blood on the ground, but no sign of Becca Isaac anywhere. Chris had decided they would camp there for the night and try to find the woman's trail - or whoever had taken her - in the morning.

Ezra watched as Chris grabbed the coffee pot and his canteen and made to leave camp. "Where are you going?" he asked softly, almost afraid to disturb the quiet atmosphere.

"Found a small natural well behind those bushes," Chris replied in the same tone. "I'm going to fill my canteen and get us some water to make coffee."

"All right. I'll start a fire."

He gathered some wood and by the time Chris returned, Ezra had a warm fire going. Even the usual sound of wood burning was absent, and now that he thought about it, he also seemed unable to identify its scent or any other smell characteristic of their location. It was unsettling.

They ate in relative silence, both affected by the strangeness surrounding them, but after a couple of cups of coffee they suddenly began to unwind, first talking animately about some funny events in their pasts, then laughing almost hysterically, their voices sounding shrill against the thick void.

In the back of his mind, Ezra knew this new mood between them wasn't normal. He felt almost giddy, as if drunk, and he could see Chris looked the same. There was no logical reason for him to feel flushed and dizzy, alternating between hilarity and melancholy.

His eyes abruptly caught Chris' across the fire, and whatever he had been about to say died on his lips. The mood was changing yet again, the air between them becoming charged. Chris' irises were dark, stormy, dangerous and hungry. For a moment Ezra was certain he was staring into a black jaguar's eyes, and blinked, startled.

When his vision cleared, Chris was moving towards him, fast, some powerful inner force unleashed. Before Ezra could utter a word, Chris tackled him, throwing them both on the ground. Ezra wanted to stop what he knew was about to happen, but Chris' unbridled passion seized him as well, swallowing him whole.

Soon they were tearing at each other's clothes, both desperate to reach bare skin, their lips locked in a devouring kiss. Ezra moaned as Chris' nimble fingers managed to work their pants open and down to their thighs, bringing their hard cocks together.

He arched against the body pinning him down, and then they were moving, bodies sliding against each other, panting into their never-ending kiss, thrusting faster, harder, sweat and pre-come aiding their frantic rhythm, until finally Ezra moaned Chris' name as he climaxed, feeling Chris' frame tremble uncontrollably as he joined him in release.

They remained entwined together on the ground, breaths slowing down, heartbeats calming as their passion receded. And it was there, by the fire, that they remained as sleep claimed them both for the night.

---

Ezra woke up to the feeling of being watched. He could sense the sun shining down on him from behind his eyelids, but no actual warmth from its usually scorching rays. In fact, even that had been missing since they had entered N'bulungi. He opened his eyes slowly, only to find Chris standing by the extinguished fire, drinking a cup of coffee, his eyes still clouded and forbidding as he looked down at Ezra.

Before Ezra could say a word, Chris gritted out furiously, "What the hell did you do to me last night?"

Ezra blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me," Chris spat. "What did you do to me? I didn't want it to be like that. And not here."

Ezra felt an irrational anger taking over him and jumped to his feet. "It seems to me like your mind is somewhat jumbled, *Mr.* Larabee," he retorted in a tight voice. "As I see it, you are the one who jumped *me*. You started it. If anyone's at fault here, it's you, not me."

Chris shook his finger at him, his face a mask of rage. "I just know you did something to me, Standish. And when I find out exactly what, you better watch out. You hear me?"

Ezra was taken aback by the other man's words. What the hell was going on? Chris didn't sound like himself, and what he was saying didn't make any sense at all. Things had been a little out of sorts since they had arrived at N'bulungi, but Chris' words bordered on paranoia.

Wanting something to clear his thoughts, Ezra reached for the pot of coffee, but Chris' voice stopped him. "There's no time for that, Standish. We still have to find the woman, remember? And because of you we're already behind schedule. It's after six."

Ezra considered making a sharp comment, but then decided it wasn't worth it. It would only make things worse between them, and Chris was right; they still needed to find Becca Isaac. He gathered his belongings rapidly, glad he hadn't unpacked the night before, and followed Chris, who was already leaving camp without so much as looking back to see if Ezra was with him.

Ezra sighed. It was going to be a long day.

---

Around one in the afternoon, Ezra was ready to collapse from exhaustion. Chris had been keeping a punishing pace since they had left the Isaac's camp, and Ezra's body was still recovering from the day before. If they didn't rest soon, he wouldn't be going anywhere in the near future.

"Chris," he called out to the man walking ahead of him. "We need to stop, at least for five minutes."

"What we need is to find the woman," came the growled reply.

"We won't find anything or anyone if we pass out from fatigue," Ezra tried to reason with Chris. "We both need a break."

Chris turned on him suddenly, his face inches from Ezra's. "Are you saying I'm weak?" he asked, in a low, dangerous tone.

"No," Ezra replied calmly, meeting the man's glare straight on. "I'm suggesting that after over nearly seven hours of this forced march, you might be in need of a rest, as I am. The few times you slowed down were merely to drink some water. You must realize we can't go on this way for much longer."

Chris gave a disgusted snort. "You city folks are all the same. No stamina. What's the matter, Standish? Can't keep up with a real man like me?"

Resisting the urge to punch Chris was difficult, but Ezra managed. Barely. "I can keep up with you. I just have no wish to. This is not a competition to see who can outlast the other, Mr. Larabee. As you yourself pointed out, we have to search for Mrs. Isaac."

"You know, I'm getting tired of your constant complaining," Chris said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Ezra raised his eyebrows incredulously at those words. "Constant? This is the first time we've spoken since we left the campsite!" He took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm himself. "Look, Chris, there is something terribly wrong at work here. We are not ourselves, especially you. These strange mood swings we have been experiencing since last night are not normal. Something has altered us. We have to stop and try to establish what is causing it."

"There is nothing wrong with me," Chris stated through gritted teeth. "Unless I was right and *you* did something to me. What was it, Standish, huh?" He grabbed Ezra by the shirt-front, pulling him closer. "What have you given me? Did you put something in my food, was that it? Decided you couldn't take me down like a man, so you resorted to trickery? Want to see me dead, is that it?"

Ezra pushed him away, horrified. "No! I haven't done anything to you, or given you anything! Chris, please," he pleaded softly. "You have got to realize this rage you are feeling towards me isn't rational. Think, for God's sake!"

They stood frozen for a long moment, inches apart, looking into each other's eyes, breathing fast and unevenly. Ezra felt his blood turn cold as Chris' hand moved slowly down, closer to his sidearm. It was clear there was no reaching the other man; if Chris wanted him dead, there would be no escape. He now knew why the N'bulungi claimed so many lives; whatever agent had affected them was strong enough to cloud one's judgement and perceptions, to turn friends into fierce enemies.

He remained still, hoping his lack of movement would break through to Chris. Two shots echoed in the silence abruptly, and for a frightening second Ezra thought Chris had actually fired at him. But as his eyes focused, he saw that the other man hadn't unholstered his gun.

They exchanged a brief look of startling clarity, then they were both running towards the sound, their fight forgotten. When they pushed through the last of the foliage to see the source of the gunfire, Ezra blinked at the sight that greeted them. Geils was laughing hysterically while standing near the bodies of his men, Benzin and Collins, a gun in his hand. It wasn't hard to guess that the mercenaries had also been trapped by N'bulungi's fatal power.

A few feet away from Geils, sitting on the ground, bound and gagged, was a woman who Ezra assumed to be Becca Isaac. He was heading towards her when Chris lost control again.

"Geils," he purred, stalking closer to the other man. "Been looking for you, you bastard."

Geils gave him a nasty smirk. "Well, you found me, Larabee. What are you going to do now?"

"Lose the gun and I'll show you."

"It'll be a pleasure." Geils threw his gun away. "Come and get me, Larabee."

Ezra watched with a heavy heart as the two men circled each other carefully, eyes cold and intent, obviously ready to fight until the death. Forcing himself to act, he walked over to the woman, his attention never straying far from the fighters, lest they turn on him. It was clear both men were unstable, to say the least.

He crouched down, cutting through the ropes holding the woman captive. "Are you all right?" he whispered, after removing the gag.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, pushing a few strands of blond hair away from her face. "I'm Becca Isaac."

Ezra nodded. "We've been searching for you. Your husband was found by the Durak tribe yesterday morning."

"Is he okay?" she asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Ezra replied honestly. "According to one of the elders, he was badly beaten. The village healer was with him and they were waiting for an ambulance to take him to the town's hospital. We left before it arrived. What happened to you?"

"Geils and his men attacked our camp at dawn yesterday. He didn't say any names, only that he had been hired to kill us, to prevent us from doing our research. John managed to escape, but one of Geils' men, Benzin, went after him. He returned hours later saying that he had caught up with John, but that John had managed to give him the slip and disappear into the jungle."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why didn't they kill you?"

She grimaced. "Geils decided I was a good 'catch' and that I might be worth some money on the black market. They were taking me back to their camp, but they began to fight over who would 'have' me first and Geils ended up shooting his men."

Ezra cocked his head curiously. "If you don't mind me saying so, you don't sound affected in the least with whatever seems to cause people to go insane around here."

She grinned. "That's because I'm not. That's the research John and I were doing here." Her eyes turned to the two men still fighting not far from where they stood, and Ezra followed her lead.

So far both Chris and Geils had restrained themselves to throwing a punch or two, measuring each other's strength and technique. Even as Ezra turned to watch, Geils suddenly lunged, throwing himself at Chris. Chris evaded him easily, punching the man's stomach violently, then as Geils doubled over, reaching for the man's neck and twisting it.

"Jesus," Ezra breathed, hearing the bones snap. He held his breath as Chris threw Geils' body aside with a grimace, eyes scanning around the clearing until they settled on him.

"We're not done yet, Standish!" Chris shouted. "Don't think I have forgotten you!"

Ezra rose slowly from his crouch, his whole posture non-threatening, allowing Chris to come closer. Before the other man could do anything, Ezra punched him, putting all his strength in his fist, exhaling softly as Chris crumbled unconscious on the ground.

"That felt damn good," he muttered, shaking his bruised knuckles before sitting down by Becca's side. "You were saying about your research?"

She nodded. "The Shambalan government hired us to discover what causes the madness you mentioned. John and I made camp and by the third day we knew there was something wrong with us. We went through several behavioral phases; exhilaration and giddiness, anger, blind fury, and a murderous rage, all in the first two days. It took one hell of an effort, but we managed to put our heads together and figure out what caused it. We had brought our own food, we had no wounds caused by the flora that might have been infected with some foreign substance. That left the water. We had brought some water with us, but not enough for the whole stay, so we decided to save that and consume the water from the numerous natural wells in the area."

Ezra nodded in understanding. "And that's when you began to experience the mood swings."

"Exactly. Just to make sure, though, we stopped using the water from the wells, and used the supplies we'd brought. And soon we were ourselves again."

Ezra sighed, relieved. "So this isn't permanent?"

"No," she replied with a gentle smile. "Your friend will be fine. You don't sound too affected either," she added after a short pause.

"I'm not. I brought two canteens with me, which I filled before leaving the Durak village, and I've had no need to refill them yet. I did drink two cups of coffee last night, made with water from one of the wells, but besides the exhilaration and giddiness, and some anger, I feel fine. My friend, on the other hand, drank at least three cups of coffee and filled his canteen twice. Did you discover what was in the water?"

"A toxin. We hadn't gotten very far when Geils interrupted us. We don't know if it is manmade or if it's natural. All we know is that it has spread to all the wells, streams, creeks, whatever, we sampled. It's all over N'bulungi, but for some reason has never made it past its borders to other regions. My husband and I had only begun to map the region's water table when we were attacked."

Ezra glanced at the still unconscious Chris. "We have a problem. I have half a canteen left, there are three of us, and we are at least a day and a half away from the nearest village. Plus, I'm not certain if I can find the way out of here. How long before the toxin leaves the system?"

"You're referring to your friend? If he drank as much as you said, at least twenty-four hours, perhaps more."

"We can't stay here that long." Ezra looked at her with a slight smile. "Want to give it a shot? I'm fairly sure I can make it back to your camp. The hardship will be discovering the path to the Durak tribe, since we searched for your camp in several directions."

She nodded. "Let's go for it. We still have some of our water at the camp, we can fill your canteens with it and try to make our escape from this place." She glanced at Chris, pensive. "What about him?"

"If you take our backpacks, I'll carry him in a fireman's hold. It will slow us down, but I won't leave him behind."

Soon they were making their way to the Isaacs' camp, Becca with their packs, while Ezra had an increasingly heavy Chris thrown over his shoulder. By the time they reached the campsite, dusk was setting; they were ready to drop, dying of thirst and starving, since none had eaten since the day before. Chris had woken up hours earlier, and Ezra had been forced to tie his hands behind his back with his own belt, as Chris still seemed to be going through the 'murderous rage' stage.

Ezra and Becca drank from the clean water, made something to eat, bound Chris securely to a tree, and fell asleep almost as soon as they laid down.

---

Part V - Home

For the second morning in a row, Ezra woke up knowing there was something wrong. And if the day before with Chris had been unpleasant, this one promised to be even worse. He could feel the threatening brush of a steel blade against his neck, and opening his eyes, he saw that the large knife belonged to an extremely furious Vin.

He had forgotten the others were supposed to follow them. They didn't know about the water, had probably spent the last day drinking from contaminated sources and were now experiencing its nasty effects. Only that would explain Vin's aggressiveness.

He closed his eyes with a dismayed sigh. "Can't believe you drank the water," he mumbled dejectedly. How was he supposed to fight six irrational men on his own?

"What water?"

Ezra looked up to see Vin regarding him with a puzzled expression, and a little hope sipped into his heart. "Have you drank any water from this region since you arrived at N'bulungi?"

Vin shook his head. "Nope, we brought our own."

Ezra frowned. "Then why are you so eager to slit my throat?"

"Maybe if you tell us why you have Chris tied up to a tree, Vin here can be persuaded to back off," Buck's voice reached him from close by.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Ezra scowled up at Vin. "Would you mind terribly if I got up? There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. There's no need for violence." Vin moved aside with a mock bow and Ezra rose slowly, glaring at the five men. "You could have asked first, you know?" He saw Becca Isaac sitting on top of her sleeping bag, worry shining in her dark eyes, and smiled. "It's all right, my dear. They might not be acting like it, but they are friends. Merely over-protective when it comes to their leader. Perhaps you could supply these gentlemen with a simplified version of what you told me yesterday?"

Nathan cuffed him on the head for the 'simplified' remark, but otherwise remained quiet as Becca nodded. "I'm Becca Isaac. My husband and I were hired by the government to discover what was causing people to disappear in this area."

"And you found out?" Josiah asked.

She gave them a rueful smile. "Through trial and error, yes. As far as we can tell, all the water in N'bulungi has been contaminated with a toxin that attacks the brain and causes the most sane of minds to become irrational to the point of madness. My guess is that most of the people who disappeared here killed each other. We studied the cases of the few survivors that were found and all of them were extremely violent at the time; some even attacked and killed their would-be rescuers."

Nathan turned to Ezra. "You and Chris drank the water?"

"I merely drank two cups of coffee and that was almost two days ago, the effects have worn off since then. I brought two canteens with me, guessing that if we rescued Mrs. Isaac she would most likely be dying of thirst. I only drank from that water. Chris, unfortunately, filled his canteen twice and drank far more coffee than I. I saw him snap Geils' neck yesterday without so much as a second thought, before he turned on me. I *had* to proceed in this way."

"Don't listen to him," Chris interrupted, speaking for the first time. "I'm fine. They're up to something and didn't want me in the way, that's why they tied me up."

JD, who was the closest to the tree, gave him a dubious look. "I don't know, Chris. What reason would Ezra and Dr. Isaac have to lie?"

"How the hell should I know?" Chris snarled. "Just get me the hell out of these ropes, or you'll be sorry, you little bastard!"

Buck chuckled. "Well, that settles it, then. Sorry, ol' dog, seems it's the tree for you." He turned to Becca. "This wears off, right? Like it did with Ezra?"

"Yes, but it will take a while. He hasn't had any of the contaminated water since around midday yesterday, so I think he should start getting back to normal sometime this afternoon. With the amount of toxin in his system, though, it'll be tomorrow before his body's fully rid of it." She seemed to hesitate, then, "Can you tell me any news of my husband? Is John all right?"

"When we arrived at the Durak village he was already on his way to the hospital," Nathan told her. "The healer was with your husband when the paramedics checked him over and it appears he's going to be fine. There didn't seem to be any internal damage from the beating."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you. Now, what are we going to do? Stay here until your friend is well or leave?"

"We still have some of the water Mrs. Isaac and her husband brought with them, but it's not enough for all of us, not if we are to stay here until Chris is himself again," Ezra said.

"I *am* myself, you weasel!" Chris growled, struggling against his ropes. "When I get my hands on you, I'll squeeze the life out of you, slowly! Nobody punches me and gets away with it!"

"You punched him?" Vin asked, and Ezra thought there was newfound respect lurking behind the surprise.

"Had to. There was a moment yesterday when I was certain he was going to shoot me, and after his fight with Geils..." Ezra shook his head. "I wasn't about to risk it."

"What happened to Geils' men?" Josiah asked.

"Geils killed them himself," Ezra replied. "He was also under the toxin's influence."

Nathan looked at Vin. "We don't have enough water to last us until tomorrow. How long will it take to reach Durak?"

Vin glanced at his watch. "Ten in the morning... About seven hours, without any stops. We have enough water for the day, so I don't see a problem if we leave now. We can even stop for lunch. The only problem is keeping an eye on Chris."

"Yeah. No doubt he'll try to escape a couple of times until his head begins to clear," Buck agreed. "So, we going?"

It was unanimous. Ezra and the others helped Becca pack up and carry as much of her and her husband's equipment as possible, then released Chris from the ropes imprisoning him, leaving his hands bound. They began their trek out of N'bulungi, Vin and Buck keeping a close eye on Chris.

"I guess Shambala will be a myth short when news of the toxin gets out," JD said, sounding disappointed.

"Oh, I don't know," Ezra countered with a smile. "The toxin might explain why there is no life in the region, since animals were bound to become as aggressive as humans and fight each other, and it provides a good guess as to what might have happened to the missing people. But a few things still puzzle me about this place."

"Like what?" Nathan asked beside him.

"Well, have you noticed that while the sun is shining, we can't feel any actual warmth? That there is no wind or breeze? That you can't smell any of the scents associated with the jungle? That there is no sound whatsoever for miles around us? None of these things can be blamed on the toxin. As I see it, N'bulungi will remain very much a myth among the tribes, as it should be."

They continued in silence for a while, the others obviously taking in what he had said. Chris did try to escape three times, kicking and snarling at them until he was subdued and forced to keep walking. They managed to get him to eat something during their lunch break, and to drink some water. By mid-afternoon he was beginning to look haggard and pale, but more relaxed, a sure sign that the toxin was losing its hold on him.

They were about an hour away from Durak when Chris spoke for the first time in hours, "Ezra."

Ezra hesitated to approach him, fearing a surprise attack, even though Chris seemed over the worse, but a reassuring nod from both Vin and Buck had him walking by Chris' side. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry," Chris said, his voice low and hoarse.

Looking into his eyes, Ezra could see Chris was being sincere. "You are back with us, then?" he asked, gently.

Chris shrugged. "Not quite, still feel the anger simmering, but it's under control." He cleared his throat akwkardly. "I didn't mean all the things I said. And... in spite of the rush and the situation, I don't regret what happened that night."

Ezra felt his smile widen. "Neither do I, Chris. Like you, I wish it had happened in some other way, some other location. But sooner or later, we would have ended up at that same instance in our lives. Perhaps the toxin enabled us to move forward without any barriers. Maybe next time we can make it special, as you have said."

"Next time?" There was no mistaking the hope in Chris' voice.

Ezra gave him a cheeky grin. "Precisely. I have been considering your offer and I have decided to accept it. I am staying in Shambala. Of course, I will have to go back to the States; I have to resign, pack, sell the house, speak with Bruce. All that will take some time. And Chris..." He glanced at the other man. "I won't be joining your little troop of merry men, not exactly."

Chris frowned. "Why not?"

"I will assist you in anything you require, whenever and whatever you need. But living in a camp in the midst of the jungle, and having to do without is not for me," Ezra replied honestly. "I would drive you all insane within the first week. I couldn't help noticing that the Four Corners Bar is for sale; I am thinking of buying it. I have some money put aside for emergencies and this would make things perfect. And, of course, Inez would still run it for me."

Chris nodded. "All right, I can understand that. I also like the idea. Anything, as long as you're staying," he added with a smile.

"I will remain in Shambala for the next two days. I wish to make certain you are all right." He chuckled at Chris' scowl. "Then I will leave for the States. I believe a week will be enough to tie up any loose ends, then I can come back home."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Home?"

Ezra felt himself flushing at the words he was about to say, "Yes. I seem to have discovered the absolute truth behind the saying that home is where the heart is."

His flush intensified at both the silly smile lighting up Chris' face and his hungry gaze. He wouldn't take the words back, though. Chris had become much more than a friend, and while lust and attraction had definitely been an instant thing between them from the moment they met, Ezra knew he wanted more than a willing body in his bed; he wanted the whole package, everything Chris had to give. And judging by the emotions lurking within Chris' eyes, it was his for the taking.

---

Epilogue - two weeks later

Chris watched the skies anxiously, waiting for Ezra's plane to land. He didn't quite understand how he was supposed to arrive at the appointed hour, since there were no flights scheduled from the US that afternoon. Knowing Ezra, Chris figured he had convinced someone to give him a ride, however unlikely that seemed.

"Christ, he doesn't do things halfway, does he?" JD gaped as they watched a large cargo plane come in to land smoothly on the runway.

Chris stayed still as the plane taxi'd to the main hangar, before finally coming to a stop. Seconds later, the cargo door opened and two trucks exited slowly down the ramp until they were securely on the asphalt. The driver's door of one of the trucks opened and Ezra jumped down, walking over to them with a big smile.

"Gentlemen, I'm happy to see you all in good health." Not giving Ezra the chance to utter another word, Chris hugged him tightly, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. "Hmmm, I could get used to this," Ezra murmured when they parted, but his eyes were wary as he looked over Chris' shoulder.

Understanding Ezra's unspoken fear, Chris grinned. "It's okay, I told them. They're happy for us."

Ezra gave him a dubious look. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Buck answered before Chris could. "What's all this?" he gestured towards the trucks.

Ezra chuckled. "A gift from Bruce. I had a... conversation with him, about the fact he left me stranded in the jungle on my own the day before I met you gentlemen, which was the real reason why Geils' men caught me so easily."

Vin cocked an eyebrow in obvious teasing. "A conversation?" he echoed.

Ezra gave them a wicked grin. "Well, he will be limping for a while, but I was assured by the doctor at the ER who examined him, that unfortunately it won't be permanent." When Chris and the others had stopped laughing he added, "However, Bruce felt the least he could do was offer me some sort of compensation for all my emotional trauma, and I could hardly refuse. The trucks are filled with all sorts of medical supplies. I'm certain they will not fail to help you in your mission, Nathan. At least until Judge Travis can afford to provide for more."

Nathan nodded, eyes bright. "Thank you, Ezra. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it. While the influenza virus is now pretty much under control, there are other diseases among the tribes that need tending. This shipment is a godsend."

"JD, Vin, drive the trucks back to town. Meet us at the bar," Chris ordered, before looking at Ezra. "That okay?"

"More than. I might as well make sure no one else buys that fine establishment but me. I need to make a quick stop at the bank to make sure all my savings have been transferred. After that, all I have to do is sign the papers and the Four Corners Bar is mine. I talked with the current owner before I left and he is expecting me. With any luck, I can close the deal today."

"That mean we get free drinks?" Buck asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Ezra gave him a feigned glare. "Of course not! Business and friends don't mix. You'll pay like any other customer." But then he smiled. "As long as you won't cause me to go bankrupt before I even open, you are all always welcome, my friends."

"In that case, let's go," Josiah boomed happily. "This calls for a celebration."

Chris was content to allow his men to go on ahead, his hand reaching over to hold one of Ezra's, not caring who might see. "Glad to have you back."

Ezra smiled at him, eyes filled with affection. "Glad to be back. I missed you."

"I missed you too," Chris replied, brushing his lips over Ezra's gently. "How about we consummate our relationship the right way tonight? I rented a room at the hotel you stayed at before; the right place. Only thing it takes is you being there to make it special."

Ezra's gaze bore into his, soft and loving. "I'd like that very much."

Chris stopped then, his hands coming up to frame Ezra's face. He looked deep into Ezra's eyes, then pressed a warm, tender kiss to Ezra's lips. He could feel Ezra's mouth curving into a smile. They moved closer, until their bodies were glued together. Chris heard a sigh of contentment as he wrapped his arms around Ezra.

He closed his eyes, happy to finally have Ezra within his embrace, happy to get to touch, smell and take his fill of Ezra, and breathed the words he had been desperate to say for the last two weeks, "Welcome home, Ezra. Welcome home."

THE END

Part I - The Theft

Somewhere over Shambala country, Africa

Elimu licked his lips nervously as he looked at the briefcase carrying the Alitash stones. He couldn't wait to get off this damn plane; flying always made him nauseous, especially on such small aircraft. And if he was honest with himself, he was sick and tired of having to watch over these bloody diamonds. It was one thing to share guard duty with the security personnel at the Egyptian museum, but having to bring the stones back home with only one other man as backup was asking for trouble.

He glanced at the other guard. Hondo had been quiet for most of the journey, something that Elimu found unsettling. Of course, this was his first job with the man; maybe that was just his way. Maybe having to watch over a fortune in diamonds didn't faze him in the slightest.

Elimu snorted inwardly; sure, and pigs fly.

He opened his mouth to share the joke, when he saw Hondo look out the small window to the jungle below. Then Hondo rose from his seat and headed over to where the parachutes were kept.

"What are you doing?" Elimu asked, surprised.

"Leaving," Hondo said without looking at him.

Elimu frowned. "Leaving?"

His hand went to the buckle of his seatbelt, his curiosity aroused, when Hondo abruptly turned, holding a gun with a silencer attached. Before Elimu could reach for his own weapon, a fierce pain stabbed at his chest and he realized he had been shot. He wanted to ask why - why him, why shoot him, why do this - but only a whimper escaped his bloodied lips. Helpless, he watched Hondo don a parachute and grab the Alitash suitcase.

The last thing he saw as his eyes closed was Hondo opening the emergency door and jumping out of the plane.

---

Chris exhaled softly as the small twin-engine plane began to make its descent to the landing strip. He really hated working for the Shambalan government, but was willing to compromise just this once. The Alitash stones belonged to the Shambalan people, were part of a heritage they were proud of, and Chris wasn't about to let the corruption ravaging the country - and its rulers - take it away.

But against all odds, it seemed that for once there had been no leaks from high above, no robbery attempts, nothing to bring further shame to an already tainted leadership. The exhibition in Egypt had been a success, and the diamonds, after having been seen by thousands, were finally home. All Chris needed now was to see to their safe return to the National Museum.

He exchanged glances with his men. "We're on. Let's go."

As soon as the plane came to a stop, they made their move. Approaching it swiftly, they surrounded the aircraft, Chris reaching for the door just as it flew open. A pale looking man, eyes wide and fearful, stumbled out, staring wildly at them.

"He's dead!" he stuttered. "He's dead, man!"

Chris cursed under his breath and stepped into the plane, spotting the guard slumped in his seat. Checking for a pulse, he found none. Joining the others outside, he glared at the frightened man.

"Who are you?"

"S-Sam Martin, the pilot," the man stammered.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, man! I was in my seat the whole flight and kept the cabin door closed." He gulped thickly. "I lost control of the plane a while back - it started to shake and took a nose dive. Must've been pressure change from the door opening. But other than that, I didn't see or hear anything."

"More like you were too chickenshit to go and find out what was goin' on," Chris said wrathfully. "Do you have your position at the time?"

The man shook his head. "No, but it was about four hours ago. You can cross-reference with the flight plan."

"What do you think?" Buck asked Chris. "We were expectin' two guards. Think one of them got greedy? Killed his partner and jumped?"

Chris nodded. "Could be. How many parachutes were stored in the plane?" he asked Martin.

"Four."

"JD." Chris gestured towards the craft.

JD disappeared inside, only to reappear seconds later. "One's missing. The guy definitely jumped."

"Dammit," Chris muttered softly. What had promised to be a walk in the park was rapidly turning into a serious pain in the ass. "All right. Josiah, contact the authorities. Nathan, JD, check out our usual sources; see if they have any information for us. And try to find out all you can on the guards." He turned to the pilot. "I need a copy of your flight plan and a map of the route you took."

"You sure you want to do this?" Vin asked, as they watched the pilot moving around in the cabin. "This guy could be anywhere. And if this was planned, he could've had someone on the ground waitin' for him."

"I know. But I still think it's worth a shot. We know for sure the diamonds were on the plane when it took off, so the little bastard has to be somewhere out there. As I see it, one of two things happened; either it was a spur of the moment thing on his part and he's alone, or this was planned and we have two or more players on the ground. Either way it would be madness to set foot in Shambala City right now, with half the country hot on his trail. I'd stay hidden in the jungle for a few days, maybe with a friendly tribe. Josiah and the others can keep an eye out here in town anyway, so we have all bases covered. But maybe if we backtrack their flight path, we'll get lucky."

"It's a big maybe," Buck said.

"True," Chris conceded. "But at this point we've got nothing to lose. I'm not about to let some weasel destroy our reputation with these people. I'll find those diamonds if I have to tear down every tree with my bare hands."

---

Ezra was going over the books of his establishment, the Four Corners Bar, when the phone rang. "Standish."

"It's me."

Ezra smiled at his lover's voice. "Chris," he murmured happily. "Finished the security detail already? That was quick."

"No. That's why I called. I won't be able to make it for lunch. Apparently one of the guards shot the other and parachuted out of the plane with the Alitash, right in the middle of the jungle."

"Need any help?" Ezra asked, not really surprised at the news. He had found out the hard way that with Chris and the others the simplest of matters could turn into a complicated imbroglio.

"Not at the moment. Josiah's staying here to deal with the authorities, and then he, Nathan and JD'll be around town, trying to find out if this guy had help and if he made it back to Shambala City. He might need someone to fence the stones, could be he asked around. There's always a loose end somewhere, all we need is to find it."

"What will you be doing?"

"Buck, Vin and I will try to backtrack the pilot's flight route. We're hoping to meet this guy halfway."

"Chris, he could be anywhere," Ezra said. "It's the proverbial needle in the haystack. And you said it yourself, if he had an accomplice or it was a staged robbery, he could be on his way back to town even as we speak. If he's not here already. You have no means of knowing his exact location at the time of the jump."

Chris sighed. "I know, Vin said the same thing. But I gotta try it anyway, Ezra. Besides, anyone smart enough to try something like this would know going back to town wouldn't be safe. I'm not sure how long it's going to take, might be one or two days before you hear anythin'. Just wanted to let you know."

"All right. Be careful."

"I promise. Love you."

Ezra felt a smile touch his lips. "Love you too. Let me know as soon as you get back."

"I will. Bye."

"Goodbye."

Ezra took a deep breath as he replaced the receiver. He knew Chris and the others could take care of themselves, but he still worried. He would give his partner two days to fulfill his quest, do things his way. If Chris wasn't back by that time, Ezra would take matters into his own hands. After all, there were more ways to skin a cat and he wasn't without connections in town himself.

---

Jabulani resisted the urge to growl as he glanced at his watch. Hondo was an hour late, which meant he wasn't coming at all. Perhaps something had gone wrong, but Jabulani doubted it. Most likely Hondo had decided to keep the diamonds for himself, thinking to sell them on the black market.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted the man, but his plan called for one of the guards to be bought. Elimu had been with the National Museum for far too long, and was fiercely proud of his position, so he was out. That had left Hondo, a newcomer to the security team, and a compulsive gambler at that. It had sounded perfect, but evidently Jabulani had underestimated the man's avarice.

"Mr. Beckett, it seems I will require your services for something other than that previously discussed," he told his companion as he finished his drink.

Beckett nodded curtly, his dark eyes never leaving the crowded tavern. "What can I do for you, Mr. Jabulani?"

"As you've undoubtedly heard, the Alitash diamonds, one of this country's national treasures, have been on display in Egypt for the past year. Having friends in high places, I had no trouble learning when they were supposed to be returned and how. I paid one of the guards traveling with the diamonds handsomely for the job of stealing those stones and handing them to me. We were to meet here, and your job would be to kill him once our transaction was complete."

"Obviously he had other plans," Beckett said sarcastically.

"Obviously," Jabulani said through gritted teeth. "I want him found and killed. And I want those stones as soon as possible. I have a buyer waiting, and I'm sure he will be most unhappy with this delay."

"How was he supposed to steal the stones?"

"I was given the flight path the pilot was to take. We agreed on a location where Hondo was supposed to parachute with the cargo, a small clearing in the Jiri region. One of my men, Mokabi, would be waiting for him there. He's also missing. My guess is that Hondo killed him."

"Couldn't they be working together?"

"Highly unlikely. Hondo didn't know any of my men, and I picked Mokabi randomly myself, only last night. And before you ask, yes, I trust him implicitly."

Beckett took a sip from his beer. "All right. I'll need more details, though. How many people were involved in guarding the diamonds?"

"This was a very hush-hush operation. Only two guards were to travel with the Alitash, Hondo and Elimu. Chris Larabee and his team were supposed to take over once the plane landed and see to it that the diamonds reached the museum safely."

Beckett hissed. "Larabee. Dangerous man, or so I've been told."

Jabulani nodded. "You have been told right. I have had some dealings with him in the past and always came up losing. I'm hoping this time will be the exception."

Beckett leaned back in his chair, a small smile curling his lips. "I'll do my best. I've always enjoyed a good challenge, anyway. Besides, I'm curious to know if everything I've heard about him and his men is true or just one more legend made up by the locals. Well, if someone's supposed to know what happened to this Hondo fellow and the stones, it's Larabee. I should start there. Where can I find him?"

"He and his men have an encampment in the Durak region. I'll give you directions. Usually at this hour you can find them at the Four Corners Bar here in town. The owner, Ezra Standish, is more than a friend to Larabee, if the rumors are true."

Beckett grinned widely. "Is that so? Well, it's time to pay Mr. Standish and the Four Corners Bar a visit."

---

Chris waited behind the wheel while Vin studied the ground for any signs of movement; tire marks, footprints, anything out of the ordinary. A few hours into the search and they had nothing - no sightings, no tracks, no diamonds. He knew both Vin and Ezra were right; the guard could be far away by now. He could have made it back to Shambala City by one of the less traveled dirt roads, or be hiding with one of the local tribes. The possibilities were literally endless.

But something told him to keep going, not to give up yet. And he always followed his instincts, no matter the cost.

---

Part II - Kidnapped

Ezra was in the basement checking the supplies when the back door suddenly burst open. A big man in camouflage charged in, Uzi aimed at Ezra's heart.

"Ah, I beg your pardon, sir, but this entrance is for employees only," Ezra drawled with a calm he didn't feel.

The gunman smirked. "Funny. I'm looking for Chris Larabee."

Ezra gestured around the small room. "Well, as you can see I am alone, so you wasted precious time when you could be searching somewhere else. I assume compensation for the damage done to my door will be provided?"

The intruder chuckled. "I like you; you're funny." His expression lost all amusement. "Now, Mr. Standish, I have already looked in the bar and he's not there. I know you two are... close. So, where is he?"

"What do you want with him?"

"I want to know where the Alitash stones are. You know anything about them?"

"No. Nor am I aware of Mr. Larabee's whereabouts, so you might as well leave."

"I don't think so, Standish. Either you tell me what you know, or I'll just step into your little bar there and start shooting. Now, what will it be?"

Staring into the gunman's eyes, seeing he was telling the truth and fearing for Inez and his customers, Ezra decided to be honest. "I don't know where Chris is at the moment. All I can tell you is that one of the guards parachuted with the diamonds into the jungle and that Chris is pursuing him."

"So Hondo is still in the jungle?" the man asked.

Ezra shook his head, confused. "Hondo?"

"The guard."

"Your guess is as good as mine. Some of Chris' men are in town seeking this Hondo or any leads as to where he might have gone. But I believe Chris was convinced the man you're looking for was somewhere in Shambalan country."

The man gave him a speculative look. "Hondo didn't show up for his meeting with my boss," he said out of the blue. "Maybe Larabee is right and he's still out there. It makes sense not to come back to town. It would be too dangerous with Larabee, the law, and my boss out for his blood. How was Larabee searching for Hondo?"

Ezra hesitated. He had no wish to lead this man to his partner. He thought briefly about trying to subdue the gunman, but an Uzi was an impressive weapon and he was unarmed at the moment. Not to mention the intruder was about Josiah's bulk and height, and obviously had military training. Gaining the upper hand would be difficult - if not impossible - even if the gunman wasn't keeping a respectable distance between them, making it much harder for Ezra to jump him. He would have to wait for the right moment.

The man seemed to read his thoughts. "I can still go out there and shoot some of your customers full of holes, Standish."

Ezra sighed in defeat. "He was to backtrack the flight path."

The stranger nodded, satisfied. "I have the map Jabulani gave me. I can catch up to them in no time."

Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Jabulani? You're working for Jabulani?"

Apparently Jabulani was a slow learner. After stealing a shipment of medicine meant for the local villages some months earlier, it seemed the Shambalan was back to his old tricks. It was also evident that Vin's 'conversation' with the man had gone unheeded.

"I see you've heard of him," the gunman remarked with a grin. "He's very interested in those stones, and in Hondo as well. Betrayal doesn't sit well with him."

"Ah." Ezra nodded his understanding. "Hondo was working for Jabulani and decided he would be better off working for himself. My heart aches for Jabulani. It truly does." He smiled. "Couldn't have happened to a better man."

"I wouldn't be so smug if I were you," the intruder retorted. "Because I'm going after Larabee... and you're coming with me. Hands behind your back. Now!" he snapped abruptly.

This was it. Pretending acquiescence, Ezra positioned his arms as ordered, waiting until the man was right beside him to strike. A knee to the groin and a stout punch to the face, and the gunman collapsed, the Uzi slipping from his hand. Ezra reached frantically for it, only to have his legs kicked right from under him. The impact unexpected, Ezra was unable to break his fall, his temple thumping into the floorboards painfully, leaving him stunned.

"You're a very bad boy, Standish," the gunman whispered in his ear as strong hands easily subdued him.

Ezra gritted his teeth as his wrists were firmly and expertly bound together. There was no one on the streets to witness as he was manhandled into a jeep, and thrown in the backseat, his kidnapper taking him swiftly out of town and into the wilderness.

---

The afternoon was slowly dying away, the shadows lengthening all around him. Chris listened for any sounds of movement, knowing their quarry couldn't be far. Risking life and limb, he rose from his crouch, quickly jerking his head back down as a bullet slammed into the tree trunk beside him.

They had been deep into the search for the diamonds and their thief, when they had stumbled into an impoverished village. A group of slavers had been herding a small number of natives at gunpoint into two trucks. Things had rapidly gotten out of control as Vin growled at the slavers to release the Shambalans, to which the mercenaries had responded with gunfire, the battle rapidly spreading into the jungle.

Now, long minutes after that brief - but heated - exchange, the Shambalans were safely cowering behind their jeep or within their meager houses, while Chris, Vin and Buck traded the occasional shot with the remaining slavers. It was obvious neither side was willing to back down.

"We could try to sneak around the back and catch 'em by surprise," Buck whispered to his right. "There're only four of them left."

"Too risky," Chris countered. "It's getting too dark to see and we don't know where they're hidin'."

"We could still..." Buck's words trailed off then, and he gaped. "Holy-"

Chris held his breath as Buck broke cover abruptly, rushing past him and stirring a sharp breeze. It took him a second to realize Buck was trying to reach one of the Shambalan kids. The teenager's face was a mask of anger as he crawled deep in the undergrowth, obviously foolish enough to believe he could take on the slavers with his bare hands.

Suddenly spotting a sniper tracking the young man, Chris swore and started firing his weapon, wanting to give Buck as much cover and time as possible. He heard Vin shooting from his hiding place, their barrage of lead enough to pin down their opponents, even if only for a moment.

Chris stopped to reload his gun, relieved to see Buck dragging the Shambalan through the vegetation to rejoin the others. A spray of bullets started from the other side, and Chris aimed in that general direction, smirking as he heard a man cry out. A second pain-filled cry was audible a heartbeat later, this time a victim of Vin's shotgun.

Out of the corner of his eye Chris saw Buck creeping closer, finger on the trigger, never wavering as he returned bullet for bullet. Then, as precipitously as it had begun, the hostilities died down. Suspicious, but wanting to end the skirmish once and for all, Chris rose slowly, warily, coming to his full height when no further bullets came flying his way.

He gestured towards his companions and they spread out, searching for the slavers and finding only bodies. That taken care of, Chris prowled over to the jeep, grabbing the foolish Shambalan by his shoulders.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" he snapped, shaking the kid lightly. "You could've been killed."

One of the women approached him slowly, nodding curtly in greeting. "I apologize for my brother. He has more heart than brains. I am Omphale, of the Idrissa tribe. We are in your debt."

"This is Chris Larabee, and Buck Wilmington. I'm Vin Tanner," Vin said. "What happened?"

"These men attacked our village, and chose those of us fit enough to endure forced labor. We were to be taken to the gold mines in the Jaja region."

"Do you need any help?" Chris asked, looking around at the villagers. "Is there anythin' we can do?"

Omphale smiled, but shook her head. "No need, Mr. Larabee. Thank you again for your assistance."

"What about them?" Vin gestured towards the mercenaries' bodies and the trucks.

"We will see to them," Omphale replied. "Tomorrow I will have some of the men drive the trucks to Shambala City with the bodies. I'm certain even these misguided souls have loved ones who would like to know what happened to them. Now, nightfall approaches and there is still much to be done." She turned to the others. "Come."

"Quite the lady," Buck commented as they watched the small group dispersing around the village, already moving purposefully to do Omphale's bidding. "Now what?"

Chris looked up at the darkening skies. "We have about an hour's light. Let's use it. The map shows a clearing not far from here. We can make camp there for the night." He grinned at his men. "As the lady said - come."

They jumped into the jeep and were on their way.

---

Nathan wandered down the filthy alley, knowing Josiah and JD were following close behind. He glanced around, catching sight of a shadow hovering in one of the doorways.

"Melech?" he called out softly.

A slim man drifted closer, the sight of him making Nathan feel uncomfortable as always. Melech looked much older than his forty-something years, his face wrinkled by too much sun and hard times, his body malnourished to the point of death.

"You have something for us?" Josiah asked.

Melech nodded. "I might, but it's going to cost you."

JD handed him a twenty-dollar bill. "There's more where that came from... if the information's worth it."

Their informant grinned. "Oh, it's worth it. The man you're looking for is called Hondo. He's the guard that stole the Alitash."

Nathan had been expecting the news. He, Josiah and JD had spent the afternoon doing background checks on the two security men. The curator at the National Museum had been more than helpful, especially regarding Hondo. There was obviously no love lost between them. Hondo was considered lazy, careless and rude; plus it was a known fact he was a compulsive gambler. Not exactly the person he would have had guarding a fortune in diamonds, but very little in Shambala still had the power to surprise him.

"We know all that, Melech. We need more. Is he working alone? If not, who does he work for? Where is he?" JD asked, impatiently.

"I can't tell you where he is, but I can tell you he was working for someone called Jabulani."

"Him again!" Nathan growled. He was still smarting from the fact that the man had dared steal a shipment of medication right from under their noses. If it hadn't been for Ezra, thousands of dollars in vaccines would have been sold on the black market, instead of going where they did the most good.

"Something went wrong, though," Melech said. "Hondo was supposed to meet Jabulani in town and never showed up. Mokabi, the man Jabulani chose to meet with Hondo, hasn't been heard from, either. I think Hondo decided to keep the diamonds for himself. Maybe cross the border and sell them abroad. Returning to Shambala City would be crazy, what with Jabulani out for his blood. Word is Jabulani put a contract out on Hondo."

"How do you know all this?" Josiah's voice was rich with suspicion.

Melech chuckled. "I have a friend that works for Jabulani; she keeps her ears open for me. So, was the information worth it?"

JD nodded. "More than," he confirmed, handing Melech a couple more bills.

Josiah's cell phone rang just as Nathan shook Melech's hand and waved him away. Nathan watched his friend's expression grow progressively darker as he spoke with the person on the other end, until it had turned into an angry scowl.

"What?" he asked when Josiah disconnected the call.

"That was Inez. Ezra's missing. Looks like someone broke into the bar through the back door."

JD frowned. "Does she know how long he's been missing?"

"No. Inez said the bar's been crowded and she's had her hands full. Ezra was supposed to check supplies and go out for more kegs after lunch, so she didn't begin to worry until she went to the basement and saw the broken door. She tried calling his cell phone and found it in his office, along with his coat. His wallet, ID and keys were also there. He wouldn't go anywhere without them."

Nathan exhaled slowly. "This just keeps getting better and better. First we learn we're dealing with that scumbag Jabulani again, and now Ezra's disappeared. Think the two things are connected?"

Josiah grimaced. "With Ezra involved? Definitely. Come on, I think it's time we paid Jabulani a little visit."

---

Part III - Captured

Ezra grunted as he was thrown against the side of the jeep yet again. His captor was a maniac behind the wheel, ignoring both the rough terrain and the falling night as he forged determinedly ahead. It was madness to keep driving in the dark. The dense jungle made it nearly impossible to glimpse more than a few feet ahead, even with the headlights at full beam.

As if reading his mind, the gunman brought the vehicle to a violent halt, propelling a startled Ezra forward. He collided with the front seat painfully, before falling down between the front and back seats. He remained still, panting, eyes closed against the hurt coursing through him.

He felt his kidnapper turn to look at him. "You okay down there?"

"Never better," Ezra gritted out.

The man chuckled. "Good. I'm afraid we can't go any further tonight, it's too dark. I'll go make us a fire. Don't go anywhere now, you hear?"

Refusing to give voice to the obscenities running through his mind, Ezra lay unmoving, listening with half an ear as the gunman set up camp. Finally opening his eyes, he sighed, resigned to the fact there would be no way out of his plight any time soon. He shifted his body in preparation to rise, when something under the front seat caught his eye.

Sliding his face as close as possible without risk of getting stuck, he studied the object, feeling a small grin emerging as he realized it was a shard of glass, from a beer bottle, judging by its color. And a very sharp piece of glass at that. Perhaps even enough to cut through his bonds.

Plan mapped in his mind, Ezra twisted slowly around, biting his lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. He was covered in bumps and bruises and being wedged between the seats wasn't exactly helping matters. After what felt like forever, he was at last able to squeeze his bound hands under the seat, eyes slitted at the strain in his shoulders. It took a few seconds of fumbling around before his fingers found what they so desperately sought.

He had merely enough time to close his hand around the glass, wincing slightly as it stabbed into his palm, before his nemesis returned to the jeep, grabbing him easily by the arm and pulling him upright and out of the vehicle.

"Come with me, and no more funny stuff," the gunman warned. "I would be very upset if I had to kill you after coming all this way."

He was dragged to the improvised camp and forced to sit on a rock close to the fire. His tormentor sat beside him, amusement shining in his eyes. It was obvious the man was enjoying every single moment of Ezra's predicament.

"Can I have some water?" Ezra asked, frustrated.

"What's the magic word?" the gunman countered with a huge grin.

Ezra frowned. "What?"

"Say 'please', Ezra," the man sing-songed.

Ezra's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "You must be kidding!"

The gunman shrugged and poured fresh water from a canteen into a mug, drinking some himself. "Suit yourself."

Grinding his teeth so hard he was afraid the enamel might crack, Ezra thought of the thousand and one ways he knew to kill a man and how much he would like to implement every one on his kidnapper.

"Please," he finally grumbled, and drank greedily from the mug as it was placed to his lips. "I suppose I should also thank you?" he said sarcastically when he was finished.

The man gave him a sunny smile. "Wouldn't hurt."

"What do you call yourself?" Ezra challenged with a glare. "I want to know what name to put on your gravestone."

"James Beckett, at your service. Now, I'm going to make us some dinner and you're going to eat it like a good boy. Then we'll see to our sleeping arrangements."

"I don't suppose you would consider untying me during our meal, at least? My arms are numb."

Beckett shook his head. "You're too unpredictable, can't risk it. But don't worry, I'll be sure to feed you properly."

"This is madness, you know?" Ezra said suddenly. "There's no guarantee that Chris will ever find Hondo and the Alitash - this jungle is too vast, even if following the map. The chances of you finding Chris are also slim. So why bother? And why take me along?"

Beckett shrugged. "I've always enjoyed a good hunt. I also believe Larabee's stubborn - and lucky - enough to stumble into Hondo and the stones, no matter what. As for you, I might need a hostage. I'm sure he'll be more... manageable if I have you with me."

"It's still three against one. Chris is not alone."

"True. But I plan on playing dirty and they aren't expecting me. Besides, as you've said, we may not even find them and all this discussion is just academic. Just consider this a sojourn from your duties at the bar."

Ezra aimed another glare at Beckett, but he either didn't notice or chose to ignore it. Resigned to his fortune for the moment, Ezra accepted the nourishment Beckett prepared, resisting the urge to bite the man's fingers off along with the fruit he was offered. Only the comforting weight of the glass in his hand prevented him from doing something foolish; sooner or later he would see to his emancipation. And then James Beckett would rue the day they had met.

---

Chris brought their vehicle to a halt at the clearing, frowning as he spotted the abandoned jeep amongst some trees. He squinted around at the darkness that surrounded them, trying to locate its driver, but there was no sign.

"Strange," Vin said from the back seat. "Think it could be related to the theft? It's not every day you find a brand-new jeep deserted in the jungle. And this place's right on the route the plane took."

Chris leapt out of their jeep. "Buck, set up camp. Vin, come with me; let's search it. Keep your eyes open, we may not be the only ones in the area."

The search revealed a backpack filled with food and two bottles of water, as well as a map of Shambala, its main roads penned in red. Sitting by a fire the three men studied the contents of the pack carefully, trying to determine what had happened to their prey.

"This suggests he wasn't working alone," Buck ventured. "There's enough supplies in here for two people. But if he had a partner waitin' for him here, where are they? The guy disappeared about twelve hours ago, so why is the jeep still here? They could've been miles away by now."

"Somethin' must've gone wrong," Chris agreed. "He had to have jumped around here, probably had a map or some other way of knowing when to make the jump. So, somethin' happened to prevent them from leavin'."

"Any unfriendly tribes around here?" Buck asked Vin.

Vin nodded. "A couple. Might be they got themselves caught by one of them. These tribes don't take kindly to strangers, especially white folks. Let me check around, see if I can find any tracks."

Chris watched as Vin carefully examined the soil around the apparently abandoned jeep, going this way and that, paying close attention to some of the vegetation, before he returned to them.

"Well?" Chris prompted.

"It's too dark to get a good look, but there are definite signs of a struggle, marks of both bare feet and shoes on the earth and broken branches. I'd say these guys were taken, all right."

Chris exhaled softly. "Damn. I guess we should check it out, take advantage of the full moon. Get ready to go. Pack light, check your ammo and weapons. And keep alert; I don't fancy getting caught with my pants down by an overzealous warrior."

Buck chuckled. "Yeah, not to mention Ezra would be very upset if someone were to mess with *your* jewels."

Chris snorted, amused in spite of himself. "Shut up, Buck."

Vin gave him a grim look. "You do realize, if these guys were caught by one of these tribes, they're both probably dead by now?"

"And the diamonds?" Chris asked.

Vin shrugged. "Possession's nine-tenths of the law 'round here too, Cowboy. Reckon we may go home empty-handed on this one."

---

Ezra fought the impulse to sigh at his bad luck. Why did these things always happen to him? It really wasn't fair of Lady Luck to mess with him so. To provide him with a means of escape - the shard of glass - only to make his liberation virtually impossible was cruel and unusual punishment.

Their 'sleeping arrangements' - as Beckett had referred to them - consisted of a very constricting sleeping bag, especially since it was harboring two people, as it did at present. But that wasn't the worst of it. No, the worst was their current position. Beckett spooned against Ezra's back, one arm wrapped around his waist, and Ezra's bound hands caught between them. He had no doubt Beckett was a light sleeper; should he attempt to cut through the rope binding him, Beckett was sure to rouse. And that was the last thing he wanted.

So he would just have to turn around - pretending to be deep asleep, of course - and hope Beckett would think nothing of it. It would also mean being chest to chest with the mercenary, although it couldn't be much worse than feeling the man's thankfully dormant crotch against his bottom.

Putting forth his plan, he wriggled carefully until he was practically lying on his back, allowing a small 'sleepy' murmur to escape him as Beckett's arm tightened warningly around him. He waited countless moments for the other man to settle down again, then moved a little more, and a little, and a little more. After what felt like forever, he finally accomplished his task. Fearing Beckett might grow suspicious, he elected to postpone his attempted escape for a while longer. As the saying went, better safe than sorry.

---

Josiah sighed as they exited yet another bar. There wasn't a sign of Jabulani anywhere. They had tried his home, his office - the sly bastard was a lawyer - all his favorite haunts, and nothing. He might as well have disappeared into thin air. And this time, not even their informants seemed to know anything.

"Think he was the one to kidnap Ezra?" JD asked as they made their way to their truck.

"Nah. Not directly, anyway," Nathan answered. "He's not the type to get his hands dirty. I wouldn't put it past him to have had it done, though. The question is why. I can only think of one reason and I don't like it one bit."

Josiah nodded, having come up with the same idea. "The diamonds. Jabulani evidently knew we were the ones responsible for returning the Alitash to the museum. It wouldn't be that difficult to realize that Chris and the others are after Hondo. And he knows Ezra is a close friend of ours."

"But why kidnap Ezra?" JD countered with a frown. "There's no way of knowing where Chris is at any given time, as he'll constantly be on the move. We have no way of contacting them, as no radio or cell phone can reach that far into the jungle. So what would Jabulani gain by doing it? Ezra won't be able to give out any information, and Chris won't know about the kidnapping until..." he trailed off, understanding dawning.

"Until he returns," Josiah said. "Ezra could be used as a hostage. Him in exchange for the stones."

"You think?" Nathan asked dubiously.

Josiah shrugged. "Who knows? We're flying blind here. There's a high probability Chris won't even find the guard, let alone the stones. And for all we know Ezra might've decided to go after Chris himself, wanting to make sure he's okay. We all know our wayward friend has a very devious mind."

"But you don't think so," JD said softly.

"No, I don't," Josiah said. "Ezra would've given us some warning, or would've told Inez if he was heading off, at least. This has the hand of Jabulani all over it."

"Then God help him," JD said, gnawing at his lower lip. "Chris'll kill him when he gets back and finds out Ezra's missing."

Nathan shook his head. "I can't believe I'm goin' to say this, but that might not be a bad thing. Jabulani has caused more trouble than he's worth."

---

Vin stopped abruptly and held up a hand in warning.

"What?" Chris whispered.

"Thought I heard somethin'," Vin said in the same tone.

The three men stood frozen, barely daring to breathe, eyes scanning the darkness covering them, but seeing nothing. It was madness wandering around in the wilderness. Without sufficient light, they incurred a serious risk of injury, but it was the only way of discovering what had happened to the thieves.

The leaves around them parted suddenly and natives broke out of the woods from all directions, their war cries piercing the silence. Chris fired his weapon over and over again, taking some pleasure in seeing a warrior fall under his lead, but before he could blink another would take his place. Soon he was out of bullets and engaging the fighters with his fists, trying to punch his way to freedom, feeling, more than seeing, Vin and Buck doing the same.

It was an unfair encounter from the start. Outnumbered and overpowered, they were quickly subdued. Their wrists were bound behind their backs and they were dragged through the jungle at a brisk pace, branches hitting and scratching at them painfully as they stumbled on the uneven ground.

When they finally stopped, Chris focused all his attention on catching his breath, and easing the ache in his sore legs. He still fought fiercely as he was taken to what appeared to be the middle of a village and the wooden pillars there. He was tied to one of them, Buck and Vin bound to the ones on his right. Tied to the pillar on his left was a black man, his slumped posture indicating he was unconscious.

"The guard?" Vin ventured softly.

"Or the accomplice," Chris countered.

He glanced around, seeing the fires burning bright throughout the village for the first time, the small wooden huts, the armed men guarding them warily. Very few women or children could be seen, but considering it was nighttime, they were most likely in the huts.

He swallowed as he noticed more tribesmen emerge out of the jungle, reverently carrying their dead and taking them into several of the small wooden houses; probably to be prepared for burial.

"Why haven't they killed us?" Buck muttered.

Chris glared at him. "I don't know, but don't go givin' them any ideas, Buck."

"They'll probably have a council in the mornin' to decide what to do with us," Vin said.

"How did they spot us?" Chris wondered. "We were a good ten minutes away from the village."

"Sentinels, probably," Vin said. "These warrior tribes plant them all around their villages, sometimes patrolin' for miles. They see better than us in the dark too; they're used to it. Reckon, they hear better too."

Chris sighed, leaning against the pillar to give his body some rest. "Well, I guess there's nothin' we can do now but wait."

"And pray," Buck mumbled beside him, closing his eyes tiredly.

---

Part IV - The Diamond Tree

Cutting through the rope with the glass shard took longer than Ezra had anticipated. The fibers were thick and strong, and the numbness he was experiencing in his hands didn't help matters. In the end, it was close to dawn when his hands were finally free. Biting his lip to keep from moaning at the painful sensation of limbs coming alive, he waited until blood had returned to his hands before he budged.

Reaching for the sleeping bag zipper, he carefully pulled it down, fiercely glad that after a restless night Beckett had started to ignore his constant shifting. His upper-body liberated from the clinging bag, he grasped for a rock lying close to their heads, taking it in hand.

"Nightie-night," he drawled sarcastically, hitting Beckett on the temple just as the man was beginning to wake.

After making sure the other man was merely unconscious, Ezra stood up, stretching gratefully, hands reaching for the slowly brightening skies. It felt wonderful to finally be able to move without restriction. It was unfortunate he didn't have time to fully enjoy it, as he still had work to do.

Snatching the rope he had spotted the night before amongst the mercenary's possessions, he dragged Beckett out of the sleeping bag, and proceeded to tie the man's wrists and ankles. That accomplished, he lugged Beckett into the jeep's passenger seat - not an easy task considering the man's bulk. Ezra was sweating profusely by the time he was done. Not satisfied with Beckett's imprisonment, he also bound the man's legs above his knees and his upper-body to the seat.

Convinced there was no chance of Beckett escaping, Ezra sat behind the wheel, trying to decide on the course to take. Should he go back to Shambala City, hand Beckett to the authorities and go after Jabulani? Or should he follow the flight plan and try to join Chris in recovering the diamonds? The way Beckett had driven the day before, Ezra had no doubt that his partner couldn't be far away, not if he was also sticking to the pilot's map. On the other hand, if Chris had ventured off course, he could be anywhere and Ezra would never find him.

"Decisions, decisions," he muttered to himself, looking at his prisoner.

The right thing would be to go back and make sure Jabulani and Beckett paid for their crimes. With a sudden grin, Ezra shrugged; he had never been one to do the right thing anyway. Deep into the jungle it was.

---

Ezra had been driving for about an hour on one of Shambalan's many dirt roads when he came upon a small village. Like so many others in the country it consisted of a smattering of badly-built shacks around a muddy clearing. The signs of poverty were not only the frail construction of the wooden structures, but also the worn clothing and unnatural thinness of its dwellers.

He brought the jeep to a halt, wanting to ask if perhaps one of the villagers had seen Chris and the others, when his eyes caught sight of two trucks stacked with bodies.

"That can't be good," Beckett commented softly by his side.

Refraining from replying, but nonetheless agreeing with the statement, Ezra hesitated in his resolution to ask for help. All the dead men were caucasian; maybe this was one of the hostile tribes Vin had warned him about. However, before he could determine a course of action, a woman approached them.

"Welcome to Idrissa, strangers," she said. "My name is Omphale."

Ezra was instantly suspicious of her affability and congenial smile. The warmth didn't seem to reach her eyes, and her whole body was tense, as if expecting an attack. The group of men he could see watching them warily, carrying guns and batons, didn't help matters either. Plus, she had obviously noticed that Beckett was tied up, and had said nothing or reacted in any way.

Deciding that if she could overlook a few insignificant matters in their meeting so could he, Ezra forced an equally fake smile to show on his face.

"Thank you. I am terribly sorry for bothering you, but I am searching for some friends. Perhaps you have seen them? Three white men. One of them blond, going by the name of Chris Larabee; one with long hair, Vin Tanner, and a mustached gentleman, Buck Wilmington. If they didn't stray from their path, they should have traveled through here some time last night or maybe even this morning."

Omphale narrowed her eyes at him. "Maybe I have seen them, maybe not. In any case, how can I know if you are truly their friend? If that one is your friend," she inclined her head in Beckett's direction, "I do not wish to know what you do to your enemies."

There was an undertone of amusement in her voice, and Ezra found himself chuckling, in spite of the situation. "He's not my friend, Omphale, quite the contrary. Nor is he any friend of Chris and the others. However, I am and I'm in dire need of finding them." He shrugged. "I have nothing to give you but my word on this matter, I'm afraid."

Her shrewd gaze bored into him and Ezra didn't look away, knowing she was trying to see the truth. Whatever she might have glimpsed seemed to reassure her, as after a long moment, she relaxed minutely.

Omphale nodded slowly. "Yes, I believe you are telling the truth, stranger. I saw your friends last night. We are in their debt, as they saved us from those slavers." She indicated the trucks.

That explained the trucks and the dead lying in them. It also set Ezra's mind at ease as it explained the villagers' wariness. After escaping a raid from mercenaries, they would undoubtedly be more cautious of foreigners in the future.

Ezra handed her the map. "Can you tell me which direction they took, please?"

She shook her head. "Those things mean nothing to me," she said, looking at the map. "The last I saw of your friends, they were heading north. Follow that road and perhaps you will find them."

That confirmed that Chris was still navigating by the map, which augmented their chances of meeting. Ezra briefly considered leaving Beckett with Omphale's tribe, freeing him to search for Chris and the others at will, but quickly rejected that idea. Beckett was his problem after all, and there was always the chance he might escape somehow. Not to mention, it seemed the village had had more than their share of trouble lately, and he wasn't about to add to it by leaving a hostile prisoner in their care.

Ezra looked at Omphale gratefully. "Thank you, Omphale. I can't begin to express how helpful you have been. If you ever require any assistance, have someone search for Ezra Standish in Shambala City. You will find me at the Four Corners Bar."

She tilted her head curiously. "You and your friends are a very unusual group of men," she said. "But thank you for the offer. I hope you find them."

"So do I, Omphale," Ezra remarked as he revved the engine. "So do I."

---

Chris watched blankly as the village slowly came to life. Some of the men disappeared into the jungle, no doubt to search for food, while the women washed clothing in clay basins or cooked for the elders and the children. Most of the young ones were playing, though, chasing each other, or watching the bound men with unabashed curiosity.

He paid them no mind, closing his eyes and doing his best to ignore the now constant ache in his body, the burn in his wrists, the uneasiness in his heart. His thoughts turned to Ezra, wishing he could be with him. This early in the day Ezra was probably still sleeping; nude body sprawled invitingly across the king-size bed in his apartment above the bar.

Chris recalled the many nights spent in that apartment, in that bed, exploring satin skin, drowning in green eyes, losing his mind in shared pleasures. He wanted nothing more than to be there now, making love with Ezra, or just snuggling together as they were wont to do in the mornings.

"Chris."

Vin's voice, soft but strained, had him opening his eyes. The men and the tribal elders were now gathered together by one of the larger huts. One of them was talking excitedly, gesturing wildly, and pointing at the prisoners.

"Vin, can you hear what they're saying?" he asked.

"I'm not really familiar with this dialect, but they seem to be arguin' over what to do with us. The younger warriors want to kill us, but one of the elders is afraid more white men might come and burn down the village in retaliation."

"Who's winnin'?" Buck asked.

"The warriors," Vin replied grimly.

"Great," Chris muttered, banging his head against the pillar in frustration.

---

"Duck!"

Beckett's sudden shout had Ezra veering sharply to the left, nearly running the jeep into a tree. He killed the engine, glaring at his prisoner.

"Are you crazy? We nearly had an accident because of you."

"I thought I saw something up in the trees," Beckett panted. "The reflection from a rifle scope or binoculars."

Ezra glanced around. "Where?"

Beckett gestured with his head. "There. About ten feet high."

It took a while, but Ezra saw it too; a bright light, the sun's reflection on a glass surface. "Not a sniper," he guessed, "or we would've been dead by now."

"Then what?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

Leaving the track, he guided the jeep into the wilderness, driving slowly along the uneven ground and turning the wheel this way and that to avoid tree trunks and roots. As they changed position, the light disappeared and Ezra had to stop often so they could search the tree tops.

He was about to give up when he spotted something startlingly white in the midst of the green. He took them closer, a muttered curse escaping him as he realized what it was; a parachute. It was caught up in some branches, and Hondo, the guard, was hanging from it, a thick piece of wood protruding from his stomach. He was very obviously dead.

"I'll be..." Beckett murmured. "The guy didn't double-cross Jabulani. He had a damn accident!"

"Probably miscalculated the jump," Ezra said. "I guess we'll never know for sure. But what caused the reflection we saw?"

"That."

Following the direction of Beckett's gaze, Ezra felt his incredulity reach new heights. A briefcase was wedged between two branches a few feet away, the impact having caused it to fall open. And balancing precariously on some of the thicker branches, like ornaments on a Christmas tree, were the five Alitash diamonds, the sunlight making them shine brightly.

"Unbelievable," he whispered.

"How the hell did Larabee miss this?" Beckett questioned. "They had to have come this way."

"Last night," Ezra reminded him, snatching Beckett's bowie knife from the man's backpack. "We would have missed it too, if not for the light of the sun."

"What are you doing?" Beckett asked, as Ezra began to carefully climb the tree.

"Cutting down the body. I'm not leaving him here for the animals to feed on. It's amazing his body is still here at all, considering the blood in his shirt. The scent alone should have been enough to bring any number of predators to this area. And then, I'm going to collect those stones and find Chris. I've seen enough jungle to last me a lifetime."

---

Taking Hondo's body down from the tree and gathering the diamonds took some time, and as the precious minutes trickled by, a sense of urgency came over Ezra. Chris and the others had probably risen at dawn and were most likely already on the move, and this stop was creating a greater chasm between them. And Ezra wanted nothing more than to find his lover, so they could all return to Shambala City and get rid of the stones once and for all.

After wrapping Hondo's body in the remains of his parachute and tying the resulting grisly parcel to the back of the jeep, Ezra hid the Alitash at the bottom of Beckett's backpack. Then Ezra was off again, driving back to the track and then along it as fast as the rough surface allowed. Even so, it was much later before he came to a clearing, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted the two abandoned jeeps.

"Larabee?" Beckett asked as he also saw the vehicles.

"The Wrangler, yes. I'm not familiar with the other jeep."

Ezra leapt out of the driver's seat and examined the camp carefully. Wood had been gathered for a fire that had never been lit, his friends' belongings were stacked by some rocks, but their weapons seemed to be missing, and there was a backpack there he had never seen before.

The ground near the vehicles provided more information. Not that he was a tracker, but Vin had spent some time in past weeks teaching him about such things, and he knew enough to recognize the signs of a struggle; the deep marks of bare feet overlapping shod-ones, the uprooted vegetation, the broken branches. So, had his friends and the owner of the second jeep been captured by one of the local tribes?

Moving closer to the clearing's edge, he noticed the way three different sets of footprints seemed to run over the barefooted ones. Maybe the owner of the unknown jeep had been taken and Chris and the others had followed? Perhaps in a rescue attempt? Either way, it was obvious to him that there was something amiss. Even if Chris, Vin and Buck had been delayed here for some reason, they should still be at the camp, not gallivanting around in the jungle. Or if they had been forced to venture into the wilderness, most likely one of them would have stayed behind, standing guard. Unless all hands were needed, which again spelled trouble.

Swallowing thickly, he was faced with a devastating possibility. If Chris and the others had been attacked by a hostile tribe, they would have had little chance of surviving. Was Chris even still alive? Was he wounded or dying? No! Ezra wouldn't - couldn't - think of such things. All three men were alive and whole, they had to be. He would know somehow, he would have felt it, if Chris had died. They were still alive, and out there somewhere, and most likely in dire need of assistance. Chris Larabee had always been one to stare death in the eye and win. This would just be another instance; or so Ezra fervently hoped.

So Ezra would just have to follow the tracks and extricate his friends from the clutches of whoever had them. But for that he needed to be prepared for all eventualities. Approaching Chris' Wrangler and opening the storage compartment, he was relieved to see a small brown bag inside, something he had forced his lover to carry around with him. Just to make certain, he opened the bag, smiling grimly at the sticks of dynamite within.

Taking the dynamite with him to Beckett's jeep, he reached for the man's pack, emptying it of everything except the diamonds. He tucked the sticks inside carefully, along with any ammo he could find from Beckett's handgun, rifle and Uzi. Beckett certainly believed in being prepared.

"What are you doing?" Beckett asked him with a frown.

"Something happened to Chris and the others. I'm going after them."

"And me?"

Ezra glared at him. "You're going to remain here, preferably silent as a mouse. At least if you don't wish to attract any undue attention to your person. You never know who might be wandering around these parts." Patting himself down, he realized he was an item short. "You don't happen to have a lighter or some matches, do you?"

Beckett rolled his eyes. "Breast pocket," he muttered, gesturing towards his shirt.

Ezra snatched the lighter for himself, and made sure it worked. He tucked the gun and the bowie knife in his waistband, donned the pack and strapped the rifle to it, before taking the Uzi in hand. "I'm going now. Behave yourself, Mr. Beckett, and don't go anywhere."

And with that he ventured deep into the jungle, fighting anxiety and fear and his traitorous mind, refusing to listen to the little voice inside that told him he might already be too late.

---

Part V - The Escape

The council seemed to take forever to reach a decision, something Chris didn't know if he should be grateful for or not. But after what felt like an eternity, all arguments suddenly settled down and warriors and elders began to part ways, going back to their daily tasks.

All but one.

One of the warriors disappeared inside one of the shacks, only to return again, carrying Vin's rifle. Smirking as he approached the four bound men, he aimed the weapon at them, apparently playing a silent game of eenie, meenie, meinie, mo, as the barrel of the gun wavered from Vin, to Buck, to Chris, to the still unconscious man, before going back again. The movement was repeated several times, tauntingly, letting them know someone was about to die, but leaving them guessing as to who it would be.

Just as Chris was beginning to think the tribesman was bluffing, his aim abruptly locked and a single shot was fired, hitting its mark with perfect accuracy.

---

Ezra had been walking for a while when he spotted the bullet casings on the ground. A fierce firefight had taken place where he was standing, as evidenced by the devastation to his surroundings. Weapons had been discharged here, men had died. There was dried blood on the soil, signs of bodies being dragged away, but no way of knowing whose.

Fighting his growing dread he forged ahead, eyes focused on the very visible tracks all around him, when a native suddenly jumped out of the woods and into his path, his deadly intent painfully obvious. Instinct took over before Ezra's mind was even fully aware of the attack; he raised his arm, slamming the butt of the Uzi against the warrior's face brutally, and watched as the man crumbled unconscious to the ground.

Waiting with bated breath for further warriors to emerge from among the trees, Ezra forced himself to relax minutely as he remained alone. It appeared his assailant was alone; a watchman perhaps. That meant there had to be a settlement not far from his current location.

Feeling a small flicker of hope at that thought, he rushed forward, practically running now, anxious to find his lover and his friends, knowing he would only rest once he had found them, once he was able to wrap his arms tightly around Chris and never let go. Only then would his heartbeat resume its regular pace.

The shot, when it came, caught him by surprise. It echoed all around him, freezing the blood in his veins, paralyzing him with fear. It took him a timeless moment to realize the bullet wasn't meant for him, that it hadn't even been fired that close to him. And that meant...

"Chris!" he breathed in anguish.

He broke out into a run, careless of the branches that tore at him, only knowing he had to move, to reach the source of the gunshot, that the seconds were ticking by. He reached the edge of a clearing, barely having the presence of mind to crouch down to avoid being seen.

His breath caught at the sight before him. Chris, Vin and Buck were tied to pillars in the middle of a village, a black man tied to a fourth pillar, probably the victim of the shot he had heard, as he was bleeding from a wound to the heart. A native was holding a rifle in his hands, aiming it alternatively at the three bound men, his smirk enough to make Ezra want to stride over to him and beat him to a pulp.

Not wishing to waste any more time, Ezra went on the offensive. Unshouldering his pack and letting it slide to the ground, he reached for a stick of dynamite and lit it. With a gleeful smirk of his own, he threw it as far as possible, taking care that it didn't hit too close to any of the little abodes. He might want revenge on the warriors, but there might be women and children inside the huts.

The dynamite detonated with a loud clamor, disturbing the false peace in the jungle. The tribesfolk were in an uproar, running and screaming in terror, the warriors attempting to discover the menace while the elders gathered the women and the young ones and led them to the relative safety of the trees on the further side of the encampment.

Two more sticks of dynamite instilled complete confusion among the tribe and Ezra took full advantage of it. Donning the pack anew, and grabbing the Uzi, he sped to the pillars where the others were imprisoned.

"Ezra!" Chris exclaimed as he saw him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass, Larabee," Ezra said with a growl, letting the Uzi spew a round of fire aimed at some of the bravest - and stupidest - warriors, that had dared to try and approach them.

He pulled Beckett's bowie knife out of his belt and cut Vin's ropes. He gave Vin the Uzi so he could cover them as Ezra cut Buck's bonds next, and finally Chris'. Vin fired at the tribesmen whenever they tried to come closer, keeping them at a distance.

"How did you get here?" Chris insisted, helping himself to the gun at Ezra's waist as soon as his hands were free.

"I flew! What do you think?" Ezra countered angrily, as he handed Buck the rifle. They were in the middle of a firefight and Chris wanted to talk? Honestly. "When we reach the clearing, go for your jeep and drive away as rapidly as possible," he told Chris. "Now, I suggest we run for our lives."

He didn't waste time confirming that the other men were following; he merely turned around and raced out of the village, hearing the warriors' angry cries not far behind.

"What about the Alitash?" Chris hissed as he ran side by side with Ezra. "We haven't found them yet."

"Lord, but you have an one track mind," Ezra said in between pants. "I have them. They're safe."

He didn't add that he was carrying the diamonds in his backpack and that if they were caught by the tribe, the stones would most likely be lost forever. Now was not the moment to give Chris apoplexy.

"Ezra-" Chris began.

"Later, Chris," Ezra interrupted, nearly out of breath, seeing Chris holding the keys to his jeep.

They made it to the clearing and Ezra was relieved when Chris, Vin and Buck jumped into the Wrangler without further discussion and drove away. Ezra climbed into the driver's seat of Beckett's vehicle, barely acknowledging the man, turning the key in the ignition and following the other jeep as close as possible.

He watched through the sideview mirror as a group of warriors reached the clearing, their angry faces showing their ire at not being able to keep pursuing. Beckett gasped and tried to sink down in his seat as much as he could. Ezra crouched down defensively as several spears flew through the air, some hitting the earth all around them, some even slamming against the hood of the jeep, although thankfully none pierced it. Beckett gave another startled gasp and Ezra found he couldn't blame the man; it had been a narrow escape.

Both jeeps kept going for an endless moment, until they were certain they were no longer in range of the natives, then they parked on the side of the dirt road. Ezra turned to Beckett, only to see the spear puncturing the man's chest. It seemed to have perforated the seat from the back, piercing Beckett's body and killing him, probably almost instantly.

"Son of a..." he murmured, wrenching away from the seat. He saw Chris walk over to him with a relaxed smile and abruptly an all-consuming rage took over him, burning him inside in its intensity.

"You okay, hoss?" Buck asked, he and Vin having come closer too.

Ezra ignored Buck; instead he turned on Chris, shoving him away forcefully. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he shouted, furious. He shoved again and again, feeling the beloved heartbeat beneath his palms, but unable to stop the anger from bursting forth. "Well? What the hell were you doing?"

Chris didn't take the bait, didn't fight back. Instead he eluded Ezra's hands, taking gentle hold of both his arms. "It's okay, Ezra. I'm fine. It's over," he soothed tenderly.

Ezra resisted weakly as he was pulled into a fierce embrace, but the feel of his lover's body against his own, the familiar scent and touch and warmth were too much. He burrowed into the arms surrounding him, closing his eyes as his breath left him in a shudder.

"Oh, God," he said hoarsely, heart lodged in his throat. "When I heard the shot..."

"Shh, I know. I'm sorry," Chris breathed against his ear. "I'm sorry, Ez."

Ezra backed away just enough to look into Chris' face. Before he knew it they were kissing passionately, relishing the fact they were both alive and in one piece.

When they finally parted Ezra felt balanced once again, and complete, the anger and fear gone from his heart. Muzzily he noticed that Buck and Vin had discreetly moved to the other side of the road, to give them some semblance of privacy. Ezra hadn't even noticed them go.

Chris' gentle fingers reached into his hair and moved him so their foreheads were pressed together, so close they could almost drown in each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said, chagrined by his loss of control. "I didn't mean..."

Chris touched a finger to his lips. "Don't, I understand." He grinned and gave Ezra a reassuring squeeze. "Now, care to explain what you're doin' here, how you found the Alitash, and who those guys are?"

Ezra gestured towards the body at the back of the jeep as Vin and Buck ambled back over. "That's Hondo, the guard. I would venture to say he miscalculated the jump and met with a fatal accident. I found him dangling from a tree, the diamonds close by. The other man was James Beckett, a mercenary hired by Jabulani."

Vin's eyes narrowed. "What's that weasel gotta do with this mess?"

"Everything," Ezra replied, relating all he knew to the three men.

When he was done, Chris nodded. "Figures. Guess we'll have to have another 'talk' with him when we get back. I guess the man that warrior killed back at the village was the jeep's driver, then. Come on, we better eat somethin' before we start again; I'm starving. Let's make it quick, though. I want to be back in Shambala City by tonight."

Ezra cleared his throat playfully, his senses reeling with the giddiness of relief and excitement now that he had his partner safe by his side. "By the way, I don't suppose there is a reward for the benevolent soul that returns the Alitash to the museum?"

The mock-glare Chris sent his way, with loving exasperation and affection lurking in those stormy green eyes more than made up for the last trying days.

"Ezra!" Chris growled, without any heat. "Can't you think of anythin' else but money?"

Ezra gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "What? Of course I can." He leered. "And I will be more than happy to provide you with various hands-on examples when we return," he added, to the visible mirth of Buck and Vin.

This time he was blasted with a look filled with passion. "I can hardly wait, Ezra," Chris assured him, and Ezra was certain he was in for one hell of a night.

It was unfortunate they weren't alone; he might have convinced Chris to reenact some of the matters he often thought about right there in the middle of the jungle. He could recall one or two of his fondest fantasies that involved dense vegetation, lianas and a naked Chris. With a wistful sigh he pushed the thought aside; tonight would be soon enough.

---

In spite of Chris' words, they only reached Shambala City in the early hours of the next day. Realizing it was too late to contact the others, Chris simply left a message on Josiah's voice mail, letting him know that they were back, that the diamonds had been found, and promising the whole story in the morning.

He then called the National Museum's curator, asking him to meet them at the closest police station. Two hours later the police had taken possession of Beckett and Hondo's bodies, the museum had its diamonds back, Chris and the others had given full statements and an APB was out on Jabulani. And Ezra was smirking over a very generous check, courtesy of the overjoyed curator.

"What are you goin' to do with that reward money?" Buck asked curiously.

Ezra sighed, gazing almost mournfully at the check. "I suppose I will do the right thing and donate it to Nathan. He can use it to buy supplies for the local villages. Lord knows they need it desperately."

"You don't have to do that, Ezra," Chris said softly. "You did find the diamonds; the money's yours."

He knew Ezra's greedy nature sometimes got the better of him, and understood how Ezra had to constantly battle with his conscience on those occasions. This time, however, he felt Ezra did deserve the reward and wanted him to know that.

Ezra gave him a grateful smile. "I know, Chris. But I am coming to love this country as my own. With the exception of certain hostile tribes, deranged mercenaries and the occasional cannibal, I have felt nothing but welcome here," he quipped with an impish grin. "This is my way of reciprocating." He shrugged.

"No one would hold it against you if you kept the money, Ez," Vin said, patting Ezra gently on the shoulder.

Ezra nodded seriously. "I am aware of that, Vin. But it *is* the right thing to do. Besides which, I already have all that I want," he said, eyes focusing on Chris then glancing away rapidly, but not before Chris noticed the slight flush on his cheeks. "Gentlemen, considering the late hour, I invite you all to spend what's left of the night at my humble abode." He grinned at Vin and Buck. "Of course you two will have to share the guest room... and the bed."

Vin grimaced. "No fair, Bucklin snores like a dang donkey."

"I do not!" Buck exclaimed in outrage.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

Chris exchanged an amused look with Ezra, both of them content to follow the two bickering men back to the bar and the promise of a much needed rest.

---

Once at Ezra's apartment, the four men shared a few hastily made sandwiches, washing them down with beer and quiet conversation. Afterwards, they said their goodbyes and adjourned to the twin rooms, Ezra locking the door and turning off the lights while Chris got ready for bed. He undressed, and laid down in the big bed, waiting as Ezra took his turn in the bathroom.

He was dozing off when, in a swift move, Ezra pinned him to the bed, covering him with his body and nuzzling him behind the ear.

"Ezra," he groaned, tipping his head back as Ezra nibbled on his neck, just above the collarbone, hard enough to leave a hickey. "Buck and Vin are sleepin' next door..."

Ezra chuckled wickedly. "I know."

Their lovemaking was fierce, passionate... and embarrassingly fast. Pinned down again by his lover's body, Chris yielded to Ezra, a whimper escaping him as gentle teeth grazed his nipples and a hard sweat-sheened thigh rubbed against his straining erection.

Chris moved against Ezra, sliding their cocks together in luscious friction, slowly at first. Ezra's hips rocked in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, their eyes locking and holding. Ezra leaned down to capture his lips, and Chris opened up willingly, allowing Ezra's tongue to probe his mouth gently, tasting him, taking what he wanted.

Soon they were both lost to mindless pleasure, moving harder and faster, moaning and groaning with each thrust, Chris's hands groping desperately for something to hold on to, finally wrapping both hands around the railing over his head, as if for dear life.

The wild pace couldn't last long; one more thrust and they were both coming, shouting their completion, even as Ezra collapsed on top of Chris. They were still panting, sated from their intense encounter, sleep beginning to tug at their senses, when a loud bang on the wall startled them awake.

"Settle down in there," Buck's muffled voice reached them from the other room. "Some people are tryin' to sleep!"

They laughed quietly at the words, exchanging amused looks. Ezra snuggled back down, resting his head on Chris' shoulder and Chris wrapped his arms around him lovingly.

"Sorry, Buck," he called back. "Go back to sleep, we're done."

"Good!" It was Vin who had yelled this time, obviously annoyed.

Things settled down after that and Chris sighed contentedly. He was back where he belonged, the Alitash were back where they belonged, and against all odds he, his men and his partner were safe and sound. Nothing like having everything fall into place.

---

Epilogue

Jabulani tried to free his wrists yet again, with little success. He was hungry, thirsty, and his body was sore from sitting in a chair for too long. Not that he knew exactly how long it had been since he had been taken from his home by those two thugs; he had lost all sense of time. Over twenty-four hours, for certain.

The sound of a key turning in the lock and the door opening brought him to attention. "Who's there?" he asked, twisting his head left and right, unable to see for the blindfold over his eyes. "What do you want? Why am I here?"

"I don't like it when things don't go according to plan, Mr. Jabulani," a soft, menacing, voice echoed in the room.

He knew that voice. Where had he heard... The buyer! Yes, it was the man he had contacted about selling the Alitash, the American.

"Mr. Smith, I promise-" he began desperately.

"You promise nothing!" 'Mr. Smith' interrupted sharply. "I paid you for those diamonds in advance, only to hear that they had disappeared somewhere in the jungle. Sloppy work, Mr. Jabulani. And what's worse, my sources tell me the stones have been found and returned to the museum."

Jabulani frowned. "What? How?"

"Chris Larabee and his men handed them over to the local police and the museum's curator during the night."

"Larabee!" Jabulani said, incensed. "That man has been a thorn in my side since he came to this country. I'll have him killed. I'll-"

"You'll do nothing of the kind." The man's tone became almost conciliatory. "You really shouldn't play with the big boys, Jabulani, not when you don't have what it takes."

Silence followed that statement, and Jabulani heard the door open and close again. Somehow he sensed that Smith had left. But he wasn't alone.

"Please..." he whispered, his breathing ragged. "Please, don't..."

His plea went unheeded. A fist slammed brutally into his stomach, while a hard blow to the temple left him dizzy. More punches and slaps and blows followed, all vicious in intensity, leaving him broken and bloodied. He realized he was going to die - slowly, painfully, inescapably. There would be no one to help him, no one to search for him, no one to wonder what had happened to him. He had lived alone and he was going to die alone... Just as he had lived for violence, so he would die by violence.

THE END