All For One, One For All by Carol M

Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Casting his eyes down Chris answered in the affirmative.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Enlighten me," demanded Orin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JD glanced over at Chris and rolled his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes sir."

"How long have you had this assignment?"

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

"What did you do before this assignment?"

"I was in records."

"What was your job in records?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Sport, it's Buck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm here Mr. Larabee."

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

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

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

"No," he replied

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Chris are you alright?" inquired Vin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," he answered.

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

Chapter 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All three men landed on the floor.

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

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

Chapter 9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?" inquired Buck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah Vin, get over here right now,"

"Where are you Ezra?"

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

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