Michael Biehn Archive

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It had been a bad from the beginning and Chris Larabee Team leader of ATF Team 7 was mad. First this morning Tanner’s horse had tried to take a chunk of flesh from his arm then his truck broke down half way to work and then to make matter’s worse the boys had had a water balloon fight in the office, and he was the one that got the lecture because they were his men and he hadn’t controlled them. Then he’d stormed out of AD Travis’ office and went to meet a snitch after the meeting he’d started to walk back but then he got lost. While he was lost he ran into this guy that looked like he’d just stepped out of a western movie. The man had had a dazed, confused, and frightened look on his face.

The man had asked one question and he’d gotten the full Larabee glare not to mention everything else including sarcasm. Now that man stood in front of him and they were in a dusty little town that looked like it belonged in a western.

“Where am I?” Chris asked.

The man gave him a glare that rivaled if not beat his own it was in this moment that he realized that they looked alike but then the man answered. “Four Corners, New Mexico and before you ask it’s April 20, 1877.” The gunfighter’s voice was filled with sarcasm and Chris suddenly knew that’s what he’d sounded like.

“W-why am I here?” Chris asked.

The Gunfighter shrugged, “I could’ve asked you the same thing.”

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