The waves crashed unrelenting on the shore, as they always did. Chris sat on the uneven, almost natural rock wall that cut into the ocean like a dock. He stared at the tide, unheeding of the cold air that kept the beach empty and colder stone that leeched the heat from his body. The gray, overcast sky matched his mood and a faintly bitter thought surfaced.
Who says it’s always sunny in southern
Snorting to himself, Chris
scrubbed nearly numb fingers through his hair until it stuck up in all directions.
It might not be as cold as other
parts of the country, but forty degrees Fahrenheit was cold any way you sliced
it, even in
Chris stood at last, picking up the blanket that had been a terrible cushion against the jutting edges of rock and tossed it over his shoulder. It didn’t help that it was the Christmas season, didn’t help one fucking bit. Even though it had been two years since the accident...
Shaking that train of thought right out of his head through long practice of avoidance, Chris walked slowly over the cold-packed sand towards the parking lot. He knew Buck was waiting on an answer, but he didn’t have one to give. It was a great opportunity, but Chris didn’t think he wanted to get back on that particular merry-go-round. He hadn’t been in law enforcement since the death of his wife and son, even though all evidence said it hadn’t been related to his job, and the world had changed since then.
Strange how opportunity knocked when you least wanted it to.
“Mr. Larabee.”
The quiet call of his name caused Chris to glance east. He’d been aware that someone had been following him, but there had been no sense of danger, so he’d ignored them. Now he looked at the young man, no, not young, just younger. Straggly brown hair to the shoulders, pale blue eyes, stubble, and exhaustion etched into what would be a handsome face if it were less...despairing.
“You are?” Chris prompted.
The man shrugged and answered, “A friend. I don’t have long, but you have to take the job, Sir. Please. My life isn’t worth shit if you don’t.”
Frowning now, Chris stepped closer. “What are you talking about?”
“I need your help. I shouldn’t be here, if anyone catches me...” the younger man sighed, pressing the heel of his hand to one eye. Without opening his eyes, he continued in a whisper, “Please. Take the job. Help me.”
Before Chris could say anything in response, moved by the simple, heartfelt plea, the other man turned sharply and strode away. Though tempted to go after him, Chris didn’t. He knew an undercover operative when he saw one and this man was in deep. Too deep, but for whatever reason, he didn’t feel like he could trust his own people. And somehow, he knew about the offer Chris had been made to form his own undercover squad within the FBI.
He watched the man climb onto a battered Harley and look back at him once from across the distance. Even from twenty yards, Chris felt the impact of that clear, but troubled gaze and he gave a brief nod. There might have been a nod in return, but the Harley roared to life just then, the vibrations masking any subtle response, and then the agent drove away.
Looked like his decision had been made. Time to call Buck.
* * * *
Staring at the thick stack of personnel folders, Chris began to wish he’d never said yes. Then he thought of that man, trapped in a web not of his own making but still trying to do right, and knew he couldn’t give up. Bureaucracy was a small price to pay for saving that man’s life, which was what Chris fully intended to do.
Once Chris found out who the hell he was.
“Yo, Chris! Got someone you need to meet, partner!”
Chris looked over at Buck’s noisy entrance, setting down the folder and crossing his arms over his chest, impassive.
Not in the least intimidated, Buck reached back and dragged someone into the room. A tall, black man with eyes that looked far too gentle for this line of work, came into view and Buck introduced, “Nathan Jackson, meet your new boss, Chris Larabee. Chris, this is Nathan Jackson. He’s a communications expert who can double as a medic. Six years in college on some damn fool major of engineering and then another four in the Peace Corp, putting it to a little bit of practical use. That’s where he learned the medic part. Field ops, really. Nothing formal.”
Arching an eyebrow at Buck, Chris questioned, “Is he mute?”
“No, Sir,” Nathan rumbled, not taking offense. “Buck’s just a little excited, as usual.”
“Really,” Chris replied, dry.
Buck made a face, but Nathan grinned and confirmed, “Really. He’s been wanting to introduce us for a couple years, but...uh...when I got back to the States, it wasn’t a good time for you.”
Which made the time period crystal clear in Chris’ mind.
“Anyhow. He dragged me out here to LA to meet you, ‘cause he said that I’d be a good match for this new unit of yours. Got to admit, I never saw myself as a law enforcement type, but I’d like to do something to contribute. You know, to keep people safe, and I’m too old to start out at the bottom.”
“So you want a short cut.”
Nathan instantly shook his head and countered firmly, “No, Sir. It’s just that no one will take me, over the age of thirty and me not having any real experience in the field. It’s this, or I go to medical school, where age don’t really matter.”
Eyeing him thoughtfully, Chris asked, “What’re you looking for, long term?”
Not rushing the answer, Nathan thought it over for a good minute, then replied, “Make a difference. Keep people safe. I’ve seen what happens when the guns get in the hands of the wrong people. It ain’t pretty, and it ain’t right, and it ain’t safe for anyone, except those holding the weapons.”
Chris looked back at Buck, who was practically holding his breath, waiting for Chris’ answer. That alone was enough to sell him, knowing that his long-time friend was an excellent judge of character.
Reading the acceptance in Chris’ eyes, Buck gave an almost-quiet whoop and slung an arm over Nathan’s shoulders, saying, “Welcome aboard, my friend. C’mon. Let’s hit personnel.”
“Wait up, Buck,” Chris interrupted. The two men paused at the door, turning back to him, and Chris asked, “You know anyone else who might be interested in joining us, Nathan?”
The black man looked thoughtful. “I might, if we can pry him away from his work.”
“What kind of work is that?” Chris asked.
Nathan snorted. “Redemption.”
* * * *
The mission building was clearly falling down around the ears of the man who stood in the middle of the roofless structure. Just as clearly, the man didn’t care. He continued to calmly stack cement blocks and clay bricks in separated piles. A big bear of a man, Josiah Sanchez didn’t look at all Hispanic to Chris, but who was he to question lineage?
“Afternoon, Brother Nathan,” the man greeted, pausing to wipe the sweat from his forehead with a colorful bandana. “Who’re your friends?”
Making short motions to first Buck, then Chris, Nathan introduced, “Buck Wilmington and Chris Larabee.”
Josiah frowned for a moment and repeated, “Larabee.”
Chris willed the man not to make the connection, but from the slight widening of eyes, it was too late. He steeled himself for the coming comments, but they never came.
Instead, Josiah smiled briefly. “Good to meet you both. What can I do for you?”
“I’m starting up a covert unit within the FBI. It’s undercover work combined with tracking of possible terrorist movements within the State and drug or gun running. Nathan thought you’d be a good fit for the group,” Chris explained.
Josiah shrugged and observed, “Sounds like ATF or CTU work, to me.”
“It is,” Chris confirmed. “But we’re under FBI jurisdiction and I report solely to the Director out of the LA office.”
“Good position to be in, if you have to report to someone,” Josiah commented with a faint smile.
Chris acknowledged it with a slight grin of his own.
Then the big man continued, “But it’s not for me.”
“Josiah, come on. You been doing this long enough!”
Nathan’s exclamation made no dent in Josiah’s serene expression and Buck spoke up for the first time with, “I understand you’ve got quite the explosives background. Good with any kind of weapon. Even made up a few of your own, under heavy fire.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Josiah opined. “But I’ve left that life behind me. Now, if you need someone to confess to, I’m your man.”
Chris’ eyebrows rose skeptically. “You don’t look like a priest to me.”
“A wolf in sheep’s clothing, true enough. But then, who better to confess to?”
And really, Chris couldn’t argue with that. Wry, he fished out a business card and held it out, saying, “If you feel the need to save lives, instead of souls, give me a call. Otherwise, good luck.”
Nathan and Buck both looked like they wanted to argue, but didn’t. Chris walked back to his car, the other two falling into step behind him. So they were still at the four man mark. Four, because once Chris found out the identity of the man who’d approached him on the beach was, he planned on yanking him from whatever assignment he was on and offering him a job. In the meantime, there were three other spots to fill and he still had stacks of personnel files to go through.
* * * *
When they got back to the office, though, there was a man waiting for him. Pleasant on the eyes, but nothing that stood out, even in an office of people trained not to stand out. He sat casually in one of the uncomfortable chairs at the reception area, his hands nimbly flipping and folding a deck of cards in a very professional manner. Walking from the reception desk to the man, Chris greeted, “Ezra Standish?”
“The one and only, Mr. Larabee,” was the genteel response as the younger man stood. Green eyes gave him a playful look as Ezra continued, “I understand that you’re forming a group of individuals for undercover work and wish to apply.”
“Fine. Put your paperwork in with all the others,” Chris said, irritated at the presumption.
Shaking his head, Ezra replied, “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr. Larabee. You see, my current supervisor and I aren’t on amicable terms and there is no way that he would allow what would, essentially, be a promotion.”
Arms crossing his chest, Chris demanded, “How is that my problem?”
Not in the least put off, Ezra informed him, “It will deprive you of my expertise, which would be a shame.”
Sighing to himself, ignoring what had to be a massive grin on Buck’s face, Chris questioned, “And that expertise would be?”
“Why undercover work, of course,” Ezra replied graciously. “I have numerous years in running covert ops, men under my command, a few commendations, all the traditional, boring things that make up an excellent service record.”
“So why’s your boss hate you?”
“Because I fancy pleasures not allowed in his narrow world view.”
Chris blinked. “You’re gay?”
There was a mild shrug as Ezra explained, “I prefer the pleasures of both sexes, Mr. Larabee, and was given to understand that it was not a concern of yours, provided the job got done right.”
Chris’ gaze narrowed at the younger man, looking him over a bit more sharply than before. There was an edge of tension present not visible on first take, and the carefully casual posture was just that; a pose. He damn sure didn’t care about who anyone was fucking, so long as it didn’t interfere with the job, that was true, but how’d his reputation manage to include that?
Seeing the subtle tension increase with his continued silence, Chris let Ezra off the hook as he questioned, “What’s your specialty?”
“I can fit in anywhere.”
It didn’t seem a boast, so much
as statement of fact, spoken in that soft, southern lilt that made Chris think
of younger days, his and Buck’s back in a sleepy Texas town. They hadn’t stuck
around longer than high school graduation, but it held mostly pleasant memories
for Chris. His family still lived there, a sister with her family, and his
parents retired in the suburbs of
“And I do mean, anywhere, Mr. Larabee.”
This said in a nasal tone that
grated on the ears as surely as words from any native
“If you want further proof, I could always start with the range of accents I’ve acquired over the years.”
“And then, too, there’s always a practical demonstration, if you so desire it.”
Holding up a hand when Ezra opened his mouth again, Chris simply said, “You’re hired. Buck’ll show you to human resources and your new digs. Who’s your supervisor? I’ll have to give him a call.”
The brilliant smile that lit up Ezra’s face revealed just how talented an actor the agent was. Chris had thought him rather plain looking, but now that his face was mobile and alight with happiness, he saw how much of that had been an act.
Shaking his head in amusement,
Chris thought, And then there were four.
* * * *
Computer Science, aka the techie, sniper/long-range reconnaissance, and demolitions. Those were the last three positions that Chris had to fill. He suspected that his mysterious motivator would fall under the middle category, though he couldn’t have said why. Something about the elegant fingers, the clear, if painfully tired, gaze and constantly ranging attention, even as it had been focused on Chris.
Demolitions. Damn, but Josiah would’ve been perfect, Chris thought with regret. He’d looked through the older man’s file and found out that he’d been in the army for fifteen years, rising through the ranks, but staying in the field where the action was. His competence with anything that could explode, be propelled at lethal velocity, or maim in any capacity was astounding. From the files, Chris knew where the guilt and desire for repentance came from, and wouldn’t do anything to force the man’s hand.
If Josiah joined the team, it had to be on his own.
Finding the techie was going to be a problem. All of the candidates were too young for Chris to take seriously. None of them had any field experience to speak of, and those who did weren’t the top of the field. And he needed the best to make sure his team had the best equipment and technology for their jobs.
His cell rang and he pulled it out, flipping it open with, “Larabee.”
“You’re taking your sweet time.”
Chris stiffened at the soft drawl which somehow, wasn’t in the least accusing. He instantly envisioned tired blue eyes closing as the lanky man found respite somewhere safe. “And you’re taking a risk contacting me like this.”
“You can find me in the blue pages under Texas Two-Stepping.”
And then the connection was severed, leaving Chris swearing at the dial tone, “What the hell does that mean?”
There was no answer, of course, and the door opened just then anyhow. Nathan peered into the office and said, “You got a visitor, Chris.”
Groaning as he remembered the interview, Chris rifled through the personnel files and yanked the one labeled John Dunne. “Send him in.”
Nathan grinned and said, “Try not to scare the boy by lookin’ at him funny.”
Chris glared at him.
“Yeah. Like that,” Nathan dared before ducking out.
He’s spending way the hell too much time with Bucklin, Chris thought darkly as the door opened again and a young man stumbled into the room.
Groaning to himself, Chris looked the newcomer over and his heart fell. The boy was barely of shaving age, dark hair and clear eyes almost the same color that hadn’t been exposed to anything harsher than a fist-fight, most likely. He was about a head shorter than the rest of the team, but seemed well put-together for all that, and dressed professionally in a good suit that didn’t look too expensive.
“Have a seat,” Chris ordered.
Swallowing nervously, John did
so, perching on the edge. “Uh, thanks for seeing me, Mr. Larabee.
I know you probably have a lot more qualified people going for the job.”
Chris shrugged and replied, “You’ve got the smarts, Mr. Dunne, just don’t know that you’ve got the right experience.”
“I uh, I realize that I seem pretty harmless, but you haven’t seen my sealed juvie records.”
Chris’ curiosity perked up at that and he accepted the folder that John held out. Flipping it open and scanning it quickly, he saw that after the death of the boy’s mother when he was twelve, he’d bounced around foster care until he’d applied for college at sixteen and gotten into BU on scholarship.
Dunne’s age had sealed the records of three counts of felony misdemeanor for ‘malicious mischief’ that included shutting down the computer network of three major banks for twelve hours straight. He’d also infected the Boston Traffic computers with a ‘green-light’ something or other that had caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in damaged cars as everyone had had the green light at intersections. The last conviction was for...
Chris’ eyebrows rose and he asked with qualified admiration, “That was you?”
John half-grinned in modest confirmation and replied, “Chalk it up to a rebellious streak.”
“So what turned you around, Dunne? And why work for the establishment?” Chris questioned.
Biting his lip, John explained, “In the last place I lived in, I had a foster sister with a learning disability. She wasn’t dyslexic, she wasn’t retarded, she wasn’t anything they could figure out. She just couldn’t learn. But she knew what she was missing out on and never gave up. Not even after she was attacked and raped on her way home from a counseling session.”
Chris almost flinched at the controlled way the young man related the information. It spoke of long-buried trauma and he had to remind himself that no one escaped the foster system without being dramatically changed by it, not always for the better.
“She got cancer and died about a year after, but all that time, she never once got bitter. Not after all the nightmares and pain and suffering. I don’t think I ever saw her do more than cry and ask to be held. I’d read to her for hours, skipping school to keep her company as her body shut down. She’d always been a fragile thing, getting sick one way or another. At least...it was quick, the final battle.
“After she died, I knew I couldn’t keep screwing up my life because I was mad my Mom wasn’t alive anymore. Not with what Laurie went through and me never hearing a complaining word pass her lips,” John finished.
Chris looked through the psych reports, noting the problems with authority, the trouble connecting and interacting with peers, the off-the-chart intelligence that caused Dunne to look at the world in a completely different way. It presented the picture of a trouble-maker with emotional baggage completely unsuited to the kind of work they did.
But then Chris thought about himself and his own baggage. About the pain Buck had gone through in his childhood. He didn’t know all the particulars of Nathan and Ezra’s past, but he was willing to bet there were hidden trauma’s not noted in their files. People didn’t go into law enforcement only to make things right; sometimes it was a means to vengeance and justice.
Looking into Dunne’s hopeful, worried brown eyes, Chris wondered as to the young man’s motivation, but couldn’t deny the motivation was there. Tossing the file in the trash, he asked, “You got a place to live yet?”
Relief swept across John’s face and he shook his head. “No, not yet. I just got here this morning and haven’t even been anywhere but here.”
“Special
Agent Bucklin
The door opened a minute later and Buck demanded, “What the hell’s the matter with you? I was talkin’ to Jackie down in...”
“You still got that spare loft at your place?” Chris interrupted.
Suspicious, Buck replied, “Yeah.”
“Good. I found you a roommate. John Dunne, meet Buck Wilmington. He’s a slob, loud, inconsiderate, will probably bring women home every other night of the week to keep you awake, and has things growing in his refrigerator that shouldn’t be disturbed. On the other hand, he’s the best friend a man could have and can always be trusted to have your back. Don’t let him charge you more than $600 for rent. The place isn’t worth it and you won’t be able to afford it on your salary, anyhow.”
Buck looked at John in surprise, the young man half on his feet and half still in his seat. A grin surfaced on Buck’s face and he exclaimed, “You don’t look like no John to me. John Dunne, huh? I know. How’s JD sound, kid?”
John shook his head, eyes widening almost comically in alarm. “No, no, ah, I don’t like nick-names!”
“JD it is, then,” Buck whooped, grabbing JD’s arm and guiding him towards the door. “Let me tell you all about your new place. You can cook, right?”
“Ah...yes?”
Chris chuckled to himself as the door closed and mentally scratched techie off the list of positions to recruit.
And he was back to demolitions.
* * * *
Chris waited outside of Director Travis’ office with his usual patience, sitting in the comfortable chair and reading through an equipment budget report. Not very exciting, but necessary if his team was going to be up to snuff. It turned out that JD really knew his stuff, as well as having connections up the wazoo on where to get things relatively cheap. Non-traditional procurement, however, was difficult to get reimbursement for, especially when most of the sources had felony records.
“He’s ready for you now, Agent Larabee.”
Smiling briefly at Travis’ secretary, Chris walked into the big, airy office and met up with the older man halfway in. Shaking hands, he greeted, “Afternoon, Orin.”
“Chris, good to see you. What can I do for you?” Director Orin Travis asked, motioning him towards the sofa area.
Chris took a seat and answered, “I’m looking for someone who’s undercover, but I don’t want to expose him.”
“Okay. What’s his name?”
“I don’t know.”
A bit nonplused, Travis repeated, “You don’t know?”
“He contacted me,” Chris explained. “Didn’t give a name. The only leads I’ve got are his description and something he said. ‘You can find me in the blue pages under Texas Two-Stepping.’ Any idea what that means?”
Leaning back against the sofa cushion, Travis frowned and answered, “Not a clue. And for whatever reason, you don’t think his superiors can be trusted.”
Chris shook his head. “Why come to me, if he could trust them?”
“True,” Travis agreed. Lips pursed, he said slowly, “You want to make this your first assignment. Finding him.”
Nodding this time, Chris replied, “He’s in trouble, Sir, and he’s been under a long time, too long from what I saw. He needs our help and I think this would be a good test of the team.”
“You’re still short one.”
“No help for it. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Travis looked at him for a long minute, then agreed, “You’ve got a green light. Just keep me informed.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Chris said, standing.
“Oh, and Chris?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Try and keep the expense reports to a minimum when they come from such...colorful...sources.”
Chris grinned to himself as he nodded. At least it wasn’t an outright denial.
* * * *
To his surprise, Josiah was telling a story to the rest of the team when Chris got back to the department. The big man was perched on the edge of Buck’s desk and saying, “...and that’s when she decided that...Mr. Larabee. Good to see you again.”
Hiding a grin at the quick cut to the story, Chris accepted the hand and replied, “Same here, Sanchez. Change your mind?”
Josiah stood, offering a smile on top of the handshake. “The longer I thought about it, the more I realized that if anyone needed their souls saved, it would be people associating with Nathan here.”
“Hey!” Nathan protested, though there was no real anger in his voice.
Chris did grin at that and said, “Good timing, then, because I’ve got our first assignment. JD? You want to close the door? Thanks.”
A serious air immediately fell over the others and Chris felt all five pairs of eyes on him as he sat on Nathan’s desk. “An undercover operative contacted me two weeks ago, and again three days ago. He’s in trouble and can’t trust his superiors. I don’t have an identity or where he’s located, just a description and a nebulous lead, at best. He said, “You can find me in the blue pages under Texas Two-Stepping.” Neither I, nor Director Travis, have any idea what that means.
“Buck, I want you and Ezra to
check out any bar in the LA area that has
“I can get the composite for you, Chris,” JD offered.
Chris frowned at him. “You can draw?”
Grinning, JD replied, “You don’t need to draw to get a picture nowadays. I’ve got three different programs that can work something up that’s like you took a picture of someone.”
Chris had known there was software to do that, but didn’t realize they already had it. “Did I sign a req for it?”
“Ah, no. Not exactly.”
Chris sighed. “What did I say about pirating software?”
The indulgent laughter around the room didn’t speak well of that particular lesson being learned. Chris swatted JD sharply upside the back of his head and said, “Go on. Get that monster laptop of yours. The rest of you, get moving. I don’t think this guy has a lot of time left.”
The men sobered a bit and exchanged quiet goodbyes as they went off to their assignments.
* * * *
Vin just about passed out in shock when Chris Larabee walked into the dive he’d been just about living in for the last two months. The other man wore ragged jeans, a faded leather jacket, and had a definite ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude that caused the people around him to look the other way. Taking a second to calm his pounding heart, Vin gripped the bar counter and then finished pouring the beer to set it in front of the nameless person who’d ordered it and strolled down to Chris.
“Beer,” Chris ordered.
Nodding silently, Vin returned to the taps and poured one, setting it in front of Chris. “Need anything else?”
“You got any food here that ain’t going to stop me up?” Chris asked, green eyes meeting Vin’s humorously.
Lips pursed, Vin answered, “Hamburgers are like beef jerky without the flavor, but they won’t kill ya.”
“I’ll take one.”
Vin nodded and walked out back to the tiny kitchen. He gave the order to the grubby man slouching in a chair, staring at a tiny television and returned to the bar. “So how’d you find our humble little bar?”
Chris’ lips twitched almost into a smile, but didn’t make it as he answered, “Friend of mine came by, day before last. Big guy name of Jo. Likes to give sermons when he starts drinking. Probably had a friend with him, black guy who doesn’t talk.”
Thinking back, Vin nodded as he remembered the man Chris was talking about. He gave a mental whistle of appreciation at the man’s talent, never once having suspected the man as being a Fed. It took a lot to fool Vin, especially these days, but he’d bought the derelict priest thing completely. “Yeah, I remember him. Terrible tipper.”
Chris smirked a little, taking a drink from the beer, and confirmed, “That’s him.”
Not sure what the other man had in mind with this meeting, Vin went back to the minor duties of stocking while Chris nursed his beer. Vin hadn’t really doubted that the other man would find him, even without a name, but seeing him walk in like that…Even after almost two years of watching Larabee and keeping track of his life, Vin was surprised by him.
The food was done a few minutes later and Vin brought it over, along with a jar of mustard, setting both on the counter. “You need anythin’ else?”
“Place to stay. I’m in town a couple of days. You know anywhere I can crash?”
The intensity in those green eyes disconcerted him for a moment. When he shook it off, Vin knew the man was asking for a safe meeting place. Knowing there was no such thing, Vin finally answered, “I’m at Gideon’s Motel on 3rd which ain’t bad. Not the greatest, but cheap. Pretty safe. Don’t need to worry about your hog getting’ stole, leavin’ it out front, but I wouldn’t leave anything else of value hanging around.”
Chris nodded slowly, getting the message. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
Vin went back to his ‘job,’ and Chris went back to eating. Not a moment too soon, either, because Will, Mason, and Rick blew in directly after. They were quiet, which spelled trouble, and Vin grimaced to himself, tensing as he poured three beers and brought them over to the table in back.
“Tell
Nodding, Vin hurried to the stairs off the side of the bar. He could practically feel Larabee’s eyes on him the whole way and hoped the man didn’t think he was as cowardly as he appeared. His whole cover was being the manifestation of nothing. Not greedy or smart enough to worry about. Not stupid enough to cause trouble. Not willing to get caught in the middle of anything. Eager to please the ‘bullies’ to keep himself safe. Not someone who would sell out to the cops.
Vin knocked on his boss’ door and waited.
“What!?”
“The boys’re downstairs. Need to see you.”
The door opened a few seconds later and Vin instantly stepped back, ducking his head. Gary Danne was a feared man on the streets and for good reason. Beside his body-builder physique that could and had beaten a man to death more than once, he would sell his own mother on the black market and harvest the organs of his own daughter without batting an eyelash if either action got him more power. He ran a tight crew, suffered no fools or betrayals, killed the competition, and outsmarted the cops on a regular basis. The bar was his front, of course, and it had taken Vin weeks just to get a part-time gig there.
“What about?”
Vin shrugged.
“Yeah, get the hell out of my sight.”
Vin
practically ran back to the stairs and the relative safety of the bar.
“Vincent!”
Jerking in surprise at the
sharp call of his name, Vin almost dropped the glass
he was putting away. He looked over at
“Call Harry and Fred. Get them over here by four today.”
Vin
nodded and moved to the phone, his thoughts in a whirl. Something big was going
to go down, maybe that mysterious shipment had finally arrived and
Clearing up the plate and glass the agent had left behind sent a flash of despair through him. What if Larabee didn’t think he was worth the effort? What if all he’d seen was the scurrying and submissiveness? What if he believed the rumors and scathing insults flying around about Vin?
If he didn’t get out soon, Vin was going to just walk away altogether and disappear. He knew that if he didn’t, something bad would happen and he’d wind up involved for real without any support to say otherwise.
Something had to break, and it might just be him.
* * * *
Barely containing the fury that thrummed for release, Chris straddled Buck’s Harley and kicked it into gear, pulling away from the curb slowly. If he damaged the bike, Buck would never speak to him again, so no pulling out and no crashing. Besides, if he got hurt, he couldn’t help Vin.
Vin Tanner. It was good to know the man’s name, at least. What he didn’t know was what the hell the man’s field ops manager was thinking, to let things go on so long. Chris realized that most of the actions in there had been acting, that Vin himself was no bootlicker. But the exhaustion and desperation had been real.
It was easy to see that the younger man suffered all manner of abuse at the hands of the men he was watching. The quickness of movement to obey hadn’t all been an act; it was a near automatic reaction to keep out of pain’s reach. Chris was willing to bet that the man had been beaten more than once, just for the night’s entertainment.
Pulling up in front of the
downtown
And for once, Chris didn’t give a damn about using IA like that on fellow agents. Anyone who would throw Vin to the wolves like that deserved whatever they got.
Opening his eyes, calmer now that a course of action had been settled on, Chris announced, “We have our work cut out for us. Let’s go.”
Buck nodded and fell into step beside him.
* * * *
It hadn’t taken more than a day
for JD to get used to being called JD, even though he’d been called John his
whole life. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Johnny, and the men calling him JD
respected him, which made a world of difference. Even though he’d only been in
LA a week and didn’t even have any furniture, not to mention just the clothes
on his back and in his suitcase, JD felt like it was more home than
A lot of that had to do with his co-workers, who’d seemed to adopt him without a second thought. It was like, once Chris had said he could be trusted, they did. No questions asked. That wasn’t something JD had ever experienced in his life, not even with his Mom. She’d loved and trusted him because he was her son, not because he was himself.
That don’t make any sense, he thought derisively.
Further thought was cut off by Chris’ arrival and he swallowed nervously as he took in Chris’ expressionless face. Buck’s face warned him not to say a word, so he didn’t.
“Set up Gideon’s Motel on 3rd for surveillance and recording. Make it secure. Do it now and finish by six.”
JD nodded and jumped to his feet, grabbing the bag he kept of ‘essentials.’ Glancing at Nathan, confirmed that the black man was also on the move, gathering his gear. Even though JD really wanted Buck along for moral support, he knew he could do this.
A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder just as he reached the door and JD turned back to find Buck’s unsmiling face looking down at him.
“You’ve got the goods, JD. Let’s see you use ‘em,” Buck said seriously.
Then he winked and JD relaxed, nodding. “I will. Thanks, Buck.”
But Buck was already heading back to rejoin Chris, Josiah, and Ezra and didn’t answer.
“So. You know where 3rd is?” Nathan asked as they left the bullpen.
JD sighed. “How long have I lived here, Nathan?”
Smirking, Nathan replied, “About a week less than me. C’mon. We can get directions down in the motor pool.”
Falling into step with the
taller man kept JD moving quick, but Nathan scaled
back almost right away. It was like that with all of them, except maybe Ezra,
and JD was sure the southerner did it just because JD was from
At least for the time being, he thought with a grin.
If Ezra didn’t stop leaving him ‘presents’ like the Confederate Flag super-glued to his monitor, the other man was going to find himself on the receiving end of some really creative electronic ‘presents’ of his own.
* * * *
Of all the roles to play, homeless bum with the stink of years on him, was not a favored one of Ezra’s. He hadn’t argued for a couple of reasons. First, the entire team was still too new to make waves. He didn’t really know where he fit in yet and knew he was still on a probationary period. Larabee didn’t strike him as a man to make snap judgements, and until they’d all proved themselves, they were replaceable. Especially those without a personal reference or mutual acquaintance, such as himself.
Second, and even more important, was the fact that Larabee looked like a volcano about to explode and Ezra had no intention of being in the way when it happened. The lead agent’s reputation as a man of a somewhat volatile nature was easy enough to see as fact. There was a darker nature to the other man, that was also easy enough to see, and the reason was the death of his family and then his partner. To have suffered such losses in the span of a mere three months would be enough to drive anyone over the edge.
So Ezra donned the filthy apparel with a moue of distaste, but no comment and started trolling the area around Gideon’s to see what was what. He set up in the alley behind the old building, which gave him an excellent view of the rear exit. Making himself as comfortable as possible amidst the refuse and newspapers beside the garbage bin, Ezra tested his communications piece with a murmured, “I am the first in the locker room when we return.”
JD’s soft laugh echoed back to him, but it was Nathan who said, “No one standin’ downwind of you’s going to stop you.”
“Why thank you, Nathan, how kind,” Ezra replied dryly. He would have said more, but caught sight of their quarry walking past the alley. The slender man had been slump-shouldered and barely moving, certainly not aware enough to notice a new bum in the area.
Ezra waited a few seconds, then reported, “Our lost sheep has returned to the pen. You might want to inform the big bad wolf.”
“Will do, Ez, thanks,” JD replied, all business.
Great. Now he had to just wait in the middle of the slop until Chris and Vin were done talking. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long, but with the way Ezra’s luck had been running lately…
* * * *
Vin was so tired that when he shut the door behind him and stepped into the room he rented, he didn’t even see that it was Chris on the bed. All he saw was a man and he had his gun in hand a split second later, finger almost squeezing the trigger.
“Easy, now.”
Larabee’s voice penetrated before he could complete the action and Vin turned the gun aside. A shudder ran through him at how close he’d come to shooting and he collapsed in the unsteady chair by the wall, dropping the gun onto the tiny table.
“You look like hell, Tanner,” Chris observed, sympathetic.
Scrubbing fingers through his hair only messed it up further, and Vin replied, “Feel it, too. Thanks for joinin’ the party.”
Chris stood and walked over to him, briefly gripping his shoulder before taking the equally as wobbly seat opposite him. “Wouldn’t miss it. I got some friends coming, too, hope you don’t mind.”
“I’d be happy with anyone you want to bring in,” Vin said honestly. “I just need to…”
“Get out, I know. Why don’t you fill us in, just for the record?”
Which meant that it was going to be recorded and given over to IA, most likely. But Vin was beyond caring what happened to anyone else. He just wanted the fuck out.
So Vin
told him about the original assignment, which had only been to watch
After that, he’d been ordered
to infiltrate
“Why didn’t you just go over his head?” Chris asked softly, interrupting for the first time. “Talk to IA? It’s not like you didn’t have real cause.”
There was no easy way to put it. Sighing, Vin answered, “I didn’t want to cause trouble and get transferred out of LA.”
“Why not? You got family here?”
“No, but…someone I…care a lot about is here and they weren’t in good shape. I couldn’t risk leaving them without a support system,” Vin evaded.
Chris seemed to take his explanation at face value and motioned for him to continue.
Relieved that it wasn’t going to go further, Vin kept on about how he’d gotten the job at the bar and become everyone’s whipping boy to keep it. Nothing too bad, just some fights and taking every insult without a word back to anyone. He’d fit in with surprising ease, once they decided there was no way he was a cop.
Over the next two months, Vin had fed Wilkes three massive busts, but none of them had yielded Gary himself. That meant that Vin had to stay in place. He kept getting deeper and deeper and the few times he managed to get Wilkes’ boss into play, he’d heard the same song and dance; that no one else had ever been able to get in, let alone stay in, and Vin was needed there.
Chris interrupted again with, “That wasn’t Travis?”
“No, not Travis. Benson.”
A grimace showed Chris was familiar with the name, and he again motioned for Vin to keep going.
It hadn’t been too bad until a drug deal where no one had shown up to bust anyone, let alone Gary.
That seemed to infuriate Chris, who snapped, “No one showed!?”
“Not a soul. The buy went off without a hitch and ten keys of coca hit the street,” Vin confirmed tiredly. “I’d sent in reports and information about where and when, even got an acknowledgement that it would be handled with ‘all appropriate support and firepower,’ but that was it.”
“You still have that?”
Vin nodded. “Yeah. Not here, of course, but I got it.”
“Good,” Chris replied, grim. “So it was after that, you got in touch with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? And how’d you know about Travis’ offer?”
The question had clearly been bothering Larabee for some time, probably since Vin had first approached him. “I have a friend who works in Travis’ office. I’d rather not name them, in case it gets them in trouble. It wasn’t classified information, just talk around the office. That person had been worried about me for a long time, and told me about you, knowing you could be trusted.”
Chris nodded slowly and said, “That’s fine. Should be, anyhow. You’re right, it wasn’t classified.”
After a long silence, Vin questioned, “Now what?”
With a gleam in his eyes, Chris answered, “Now we take down Danne and get you where you belong.”
“Where’s that?” Vin asked softly.
Larabee’s mouth twitched almost into a grin as he replied, “On my team, Tanner, where else?”
* * * *
Setting up for the bust proved to be almost ridiculously easy, to Buck’s way of thinking. Of course, it helped that Travis gave Chris carte blanche when it came to operations’ control. He trusted the team leader to get things done and, in Buck’s opinion, felt guilty enough about the death of Chris’ family to overlook the more unconventional ways Chris got things done.
Like JD.
Grinning at the thought of their youngest member who was currently snoring away on the team sofa, Buck restrained himself from messing with JD’s peaceful sleep. The boy had fit into their world with nary a blink and it seemed like he’d always been there, cheering up the place with that grin and those innocent eyes. Still innocent, despite almost five years in foster care after his mother’s tragic death. And they all aimed to keep it that way, Buck knew without even bringing up the subject.
From Ezra’s incessant practical jokes to Nathan’s electrical tutoring of what little JD didn’t already know. From Josiah’s life experience lectures, to Buck’s own brand of education, which included the less saintly aspects of manly life. Chris...well...Chris taught by just being alive. Buck could see the hero worship in the young, dark eyes that remained on Chris whenever the agent was in the room.
He’d have to mention it to his
friend and make sure Chris didn’t accidentally break JD’s heart. Like the
oblivious man had done so many times before, just by being unaware of the
attraction he presented. Not even Buck himself had been immune, once upon a
time in a sleepy
Time to find that boy a woman. Or at least a girlfriend, to keep that young heart occupied and out of dangerous places it just didn’t belong.
“Buck.”
Glancing away from JD towards Chris, Buck yawned and asked, “All set?”
“Yeah,” Chris confirmed with a thin smile. “We got the go.”
“Like you ever doubted it,” Buck scoffed, getting to his feet and stretching in a spine-cracking arch.
Chris shrugged. “I’m headin’ back to Gideon’s now to get Vin the information.”
“You want some backup?” Buck offered.
Shaking his head, Chris said, “Ezra’s still in place, that’s good enough.”
A slightly malicious grin surfaced and Buck observed, “It’s a right pretty picture, seeing Ezra in that getup.”
Chris pointed a finger at him, almost not grinning as he replied, “Don’t start anything I’ll have to finish, Bucklin.”
Assuming an innocent expression, Buck asked, “Who, me?”
Chris snorted, then turned serious. “I want everyone in place and maintaining silence until 1330, you got me?”
“I got it, Boss,” Buck answered softly. “Everything’ll go wrong, don’t you worry.”
Punching him hard in the shoulder, Chris pointed a finger at him and warned, “Do not mock Murphy, Hoss. He’ll come back and kick us all in the ass and I don’t want that to happen until after we have Vin out safe and Danne behind bars with his goons.”
Buck grimaced in pain, rubbing his now-throbbing shoulder. “What is it about this guy, Chris? You never saw him before two weeks ago.”
Troubled, Chris sighed and
looked out the dark window to the
Buck nodded encouragingly and stayed silent.
“With Vin...it’s like that, only we just met. Like we knew each other a long time ago, but never got the chance to have the years of friendship you and me’ve had,” Chris finished. “I don’t get it, I really don’t, but it’s there and it’s real.”
Gripping Chris’ shoulder, Buck promised, “We’ll get him out, Chris, and we’ll all get out of this in one piece. It’s just first date jitters.”
Chris’ breath exploded and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Hey, do me a favor, okay?”
“Name it.”
“Look after everyone. Just in case. Nathan and JD don’t have anything in the way of formal fighting experience, and Josiah’s a little rusty.”
“What, you don’t want me to look after Ezra?” Buck questioned, lightening the mood.
Grinning briefly, Chris observed, “Ezra can take care of himself. I’ll catch you tomorrow, partner.”
They clasped hands, exchanging more silent words, and then Chris was gone.
Sighing to himself, Buck rubbed his eyes and walked over to JD, nudging his shoulder and saying, “Wake up, JD, time to go home.”
JD mumbled and burrowed further into the sofa.
“Get up, Dunne!” Buck shouted in JD’s ear.
Flailing at the sudden shout, JD tumbled onto the floor. When he woke up enough to see Buck laughing at him, he flipped the older man the bird and said succinctly, “Fuck you, asshole.”
“My, my, my, such language! You really don’t wake up well, do you?” Buck admonished when he could speak without laughing again. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he dragged JD to his feet and towards the door. “Come on, little man, time to get you home and to bed before you turn into a pumpkin.”
* * * *
Chris tapped twice on Vin’s door and walked in without waiting for an answer. Thus it was that he walked straight into a meeting of the worst sort. Not only was Gary Danne present and accounted for, two of his goons held Vin between them. The younger man already had a bloody nose and swollen eye, which pissed Chris off so much that for a moment, he literally saw red and had to stay absolutely still, so as not to kill all three, then and there.
As if sensing the danger they were in, Danne had his gun trained on Chris in a second flat. “Hands up where we can see them.”
Putting his hands up, Chris drawled, “Why Vincent, I didn’t realize that you were having company tonight. You should’ve called.”
Vin spat blood onto the floor and cleared his throat to say, “Lost track o’ time. Sorry.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Danne interrupted, patting him down and taking his gun in the shoulder and ankle holster.
Arms now crossed over his chest, Chris replied easily, “Andrew McCallister. Vincent and I go way back, don’t we boy?”
Vin’s eyes widened in shock at the caressing quality Chris’ voice had taken, mouth opening a bit as he struggled to find an answer.
Taking advantage of the other man’s dumbfounded silence, Chris continued, “I suppose you expect a reward for finding my lost toy?”
Danne frowned, but it only took a few more seconds for the meaning to penetrate, and then he burst out laughing. Looking at Vin, he exclaimed, “I thought a lot of things about you, but I never thought you were a cocksucker. And who are you, exactly, McCallister?”
Pulling off the leather jacket, Chris tossed it onto the small table and replied, “A man who’s rich enough to show his gratitude appropriately. You see, Vincent ran out on me before the end of his contract.”
“You don’t fuckin’ own me!” Vin shouted, getting into the act and starting to struggle.
Striding across the room, Chris grabbed a handful of Vin’s hair and yanked his head back, hissing, “I own every part of your body, boy, paid good money for it, remember? And I don’t let go what’s mine.”
Vin backed down, momentary rebellion seemingly cowed as he shrank against the wall.
Letting go, Chris turned back to Danne. “Now then. To whom do I write the check?”
Lips pursed, Danne said, “First we check you out, then we’ll deal. Until I get the clear that you’re who you say you are, consider yourself a guest.”
Chris gave a careless shrug and returned to the table to take a seat. It would take a few hours for the security check to run and when he didn’t come out in ten more minutes, Ezra would contact Buck to let him know. Andrew McCallister was a scumbag ID they had on hand in case one of them got caught with their pants down, so to speak. Enough violence to make him a serious risk to tangle with, and sick enough to not want to get too close.
Smiling at Danne, Chris asked, “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”
* * * *
“You were right. There’s activity on the McCallister file,” JD confirmed tensely.
Buck nodded, having expected
that when Ezra called him to say Chris hadn’t come out. And then ten minutes
later to say that he and Nathan were tailing them all, Vin
and Chris included, towards the 405. Ezra hadn’t reported back in, so wherever
they were going, it was outside of the city proper. Buck knew from their
research on Danne that he had two possible
destinations; a beach house in
His cell rang, and Buck saw it was Ezra. “Yeah?”
“We’re heading to
That figured. The property was all on its own, no nearby neighbors in case Danne didn’t want any screams heard.
“We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. What do you want us to do?”
Buck thought for a minute, then ordered, “Just wait and watch. If Danne buys it, he might even offer Chris a job and let him walk out of there without a second thought. Stay back.”
“I do know how to set up surveillance,” Ezra huffed back at him.
Grinning, Buck replied, “I’m sure you do. Call in when they go inside.”
“Will do.”
Hanging up, Buck glanced over at JD and saw the kid looking a little too tense. Not that that was surprising, really, since it was his first op and things were already going wrong. Reaching out, he cuffed JD upside the back of the head.
“Hey! What was that for?” JD demanded.
Buck leaned against Josiah’s desk, which was beside JD’s, and said, “Relax, kid, there’s nothing we can do except wait.”
Scowling, JD asked, “We can’t even go there? Make sure we’re there in case we need to get in fast and help them?”
“You’re shit is right here, my friend, so here is where we stay. If we need to do up a cover for me, or Josiah, or any of us, you need access,” Buck reminded him. “Ezra and Nathan are there on the front line, they’ll be ready if it goes south.”
JD frowned. “Where’s Josiah?”
“Josiah’s…got his own assignment.”
* * * *
“89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94…who the hell leaves ninety-four bullets?” Josiah muttered, glaring at the bullets as if they’d done it themselves.
Inventory. The much, much less glamorous part of law enforcement. While there was technically someone else to take care of this for them, neither Chris nor Josiah trusted anyone else for such a vital job. Boring as shit, but vital. And besides, it kept his mind and hands occupied while there was nothing for him to really be doing.
Ezra and Nathan had Chris covered. Buck was coordinating the team, and JD was doing whatever it was the young man did so well. Computers were a definite mystery to Josiah and he was perfectly happy with that. He knew how to dismantle or create just about any bomb timer out there, but that was the extent of his knowledge on things computerized. When JD had found out that Josiah didn’t even own a computer, the kid had nearly passed out in shock.
Grinning at the memory of a horror-stricken JD, Josiah carefully packed away the bullet container, noting how many it included on the side, in pen, with the date and his initials.
He moved on to the next container.
* * * *
The beach house was massive and
tastefully decorated, to Vin’s surprise. After all the
time he’d spent in
When Chris sat on a leather
sofa in the living room, he looked pointedly at Vin.
It took a few seconds to realize what was expected and he flushed, but sat on
the floor at Chris’ feet. He aimed for a sullen look, figuring that an escaped,
well, slave, would act that way. Thankfully,
“Wish I’d known that was all it
took. We’d’ve gotten better service and I wouldn’t
have had to pay him,”
“It’s a skill,” Chris informed him. “I doubt that Vincent would have responded to you if you’d tried it.”
A man Vin
didn’t know came into the room and bent down to whisper something in
“Well, Mr. McCallister,
it seems that you’re a bit of a mover and shaker yourself,”
Chris shrugged and answered, “In my own way, perhaps. Certainly not in your league.”
“So you know me.”
“Of course I know you. I know all the players in any town I visit, even if I’m going to be there for less than a day. It’s kept me alive plenty of times.”
Nodding slowly,
“I make it a point to do serious business under a different name,” Chris explained.
“Which is?”
“Andrew Harris.”
“That’s so,” Chris replied. “Feel free to confirm that.”
“Oh I will. In the meantime,
why don’t you and Vincent remain as my guests?”
Standing, Chris agreed, “A bath and a good night’s sleep would be wonderful, thank you. And perhaps something to eat? It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll have something sent up. Just follow Harry there. He’ll bring you to the guest suite.”
When Chris looked down at him, Vin hoped to his feet and fell into step behind him, keeping his eyes on the ground, but using his peripheral vision to keep track of the route they used. It was only a few minutes until they were in a large , multi-roomed quite that reminded Vin of elegant hotels he’d seen in magazines and on television. The kind of place where he was afraid to touch anything, lest he break it.
As soon as the door closed, Chris ordered sharply, “Get those clothes off, boy, and start the shower. I’m tired and even setting foot in that place you were living makes me feel like I’ve been dipped in filth. And you will be joining me there, make no mistake. I should probably ask for a de-lousing agent.”
Vin
stood there in shock for a second, then realized that of course, there would be
cameras in the suite. They had to keep in character, or
Chris entered the room in a robe and announced, “I told them to destroy those rags. You’ll have new clothes in the morning. Now get in.”
Unaccountably nervous, Vin stepped into the shower and went under the spray. He nearly groaned in relief as the hard spray soaked into his aching body. It felt so good. He was almost startled when Chris stepped in as well, then remembered the cameras. There might even be cameras in the bathroom, there was at least audio equipment, he was sure.
“You don’t deserve to touch me, boy, and it’s going to be a good long while before I give you any privileges such as release, or even touch you like that as well. You’re a servant now. Get used to it,” Chris snapped. “Now turn around so I can properly wash you down.”
Which gave them an excuse not to have sex, thank God. Keeping his head down submissively, Vin turned around. His heart was pounding hard from having Chris so close and so very naked. For two long years, the other man had been in his thoughts, and his heart, even if Chris didn’t know it. Seeing that body in all its glory had him more than half-hard, and Vin was incredibly glad that Chris was spared the sight of his erection.
Gentle fingers surprised him by working into his muscles, causing him to tense even further.
“Relax,” Chris murmured in his ear. “Let me take care of you for a bit.”
Which…went way above the call and caused Vin to frown. He didn’t know anyone who would do give a massage to another naked body, unless they cared about the person. But how was that possible when Chris had only met him two weeks ago?
“It’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen here tonight. I just want you to feel good. You’ve been through too much,” Chris continued softly, too soft for any mikes to pick up, hopefully.
Vin forced himself to relax, to give himself over to the strong hands working through his exhausted muscles. It took surprisingly little to render him into mush, those hands wielding magic as they moved over his back and shoulders, and up his neck. Chris even washed his hair, scratching through the shoulder-length curls until Vin was ready to moan with pleasure. When Chris finished, Vin was more than half-hard and stayed facing the wall, not sure how to get out of there without showing Chris.
“Anyone’d react like that, Vin, after what you been through. Don’t worry. I don’t take it personal,” Chris whispered in his ear.
Sighing in relief, even though it was very personal, Vin nodded and waited for Chris to leave and dry off before turning off the shower. It gave him a few extra moments to try and calm down before leaving to dry off. By the time he was out of the tub, Chris had thankfully left the bathroom altogether.
He stepped awkwardly into the main room and found that Chris was already all the way across the suite and in the bed.
“Get over here, boy. You’re stayin’ in arms reach tonight, even if you are being punished,” Chris ordered, deciding the matter.
Which was going to bring up that little problem from before, if he had to sleep in Chris’ arms, but there wasn’t any choice. Crossing the room to the bed, he hesitated there until Chris held up the blankets. Vin sighed faintly and climbed in, gingerly laying down beside him. He was again surprised when Chris rolled onto his side and grinned at him. Frowning, Vin asked, “What?”
“I don’t think it’s going to please me, you being all the way over there, boy. Turn off that light on the nightstand and get closer,” Chris ordered softly.
Not really understanding where Chris was taking this, but willing to trust him, Vin shut off the light and hesitantly moved into the circle of Chris’ arms. The other man had his boxers back on, thank God, but it was still distracting as sin. Vin tried out a couple of positions before Chris gave a little huff of apparent amusement and just tugged him down flat onto Chris’ chest.
Putting a hand to the back of Vin’s head, he ordered softly, “Sleep. Nothing’s going to happen to you ever again. I won’t let it. Even if that means handcuffing us together to make sure you don’t run away.”
Vin let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His heart both ached and warmed at the statement, because while Vin knew Chris meant it, he hadn’t meant it in the fashion that Vin so desperately wanted him to. Listening to the warm, steady beating of Chris’ heart, Vin fell into the deepest, and most restful, sleep he’d known in years, even in the house of a killer.
* * * *
It wasn’t a big surprise to Chris that Danne bought the cover, he and Buck had spent a lot of time creating it, just like the one they’d made up for Buck. He also wasn’t surprised to be invited along the next morning to the bust. It was an extra ambitious buy of weapons for a militia group, to be purchased by untraceable diamonds, with Danne as the middleman. This bust was solely to get Danne with his hands in the cookie jar of buying illegal weapons and diamond smuggling, which would send him away for a long time, if Vin’s assessment of the size of the shipment was to be believed.
Which, of course, it was.
Buck would be busy coordinating the team with the extra manpower Chris had commandeered from Orin the day before. It would be a rush to get things in place, but he had every confidence in Buck. He’d never been let down before, and wouldn’t be now, especially not with so much at stake.
Vin looked a lot better for his sleep and Chris flashed back momentarily to waking with the other man in his arms. It had taken all his willpower not to kiss Vin awake, but he’d resisted. Even before their shower, which had confirmed Vin’s feelings for him, Chris had realized that what he felt for Vin was love, that he’d fallen in love with Vin that day on the beach. It had happened that way with Sarah, too. He’d seen her in a park, playing soccer with some girlfriends, and Chris had known that he would spend the rest of his life with her.
That hadn’t happened, of course, a faulty gas line at their house had taken his wife and son from him. Perhaps meeting with Vin had been the universe’s way of trying to balance the scales. Taking one love, and given him another.
His thoughts were interrupted by the SUV pulling into a warehouse. His hand tightened on Vin’s thigh in reassurance, but he didn’t look at the other man. Instead, he glanced lazily out the tinted window and took in the organized chaos just outside the vehicle. He hadn’t seen any sign of Buck and the others, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Releasing Vin, he climbed out of the car and met Danne around the front, Vin trailing dutifully behind him.
“You run a tight ship,” Chris observed, noticing the swift but careful transportation and stacking of crates of weapons.
Danne nodded. “Can’t afford to be sloppy when it could kill you. So what do you think?”
Taking one last look around, Chris replied, “I think we might be able to do business. After you’ve dealt with your other customers, of course.”
Danne followed his gaze to where three men in cammos strode into the warehouse: Buck, Josiah, and Ezra. They all looked somewhat shaggy, stubble on the chin and a gleam in their eyes that didn’t bode well for anyone messing with them. To Chris’ surprise, Ezra took point in a Midwestern twang, saying, “Good to finally meet you, Danne.”
They all shook hands and Chris had to wonder what they were doing posing as the buyers. What had happened to the people from the militia group? Taking things in stride, he murmured to Vin, “Be ready.”
Vin stepped closer and whispered into his ear, “All three yours?”
Chris nodded and settled in to watch and wait.
* * * *
“You do not leave this truck, am I understood, JD?” Buck warned.
JD scowled but nodded. “I hear you.”
“I mean it. You’re not a field agent. You stay here and monitor the situation with Nathan and that’s it. If I hear that even a hair on your head moved outside, you’re suspended without pay for a month and grounded to desk duty for six months after that.”
Opening his voice to protest, JD subsided at a combined look from Josiah, Nathan, and Ezra. He threw up his hands and exclaimed, “All right, already, I won’t move! Jeeze!”
Satisfied that their youngest, most impetuous member would be safe, Buck turned to Ezra and asked, “You got it down?”
Ezra snorted and replied, “The man’s accent is hardly difficult, Buck, and Stephenson is a simpleton on top of that, so yes, I’ve got it down.”
“Good.” Buck looked to Reynolds, the other team leader, and asked, “Everyone in place?”
Reynolds nodded and confirmed,
“All set,
They were parked half a block from the warehouse that was seething with activity. Nathan had just informed them of Chris and the other’s arrival. Buck had been right. Not only had Danne believed the cover, he was probably offering Chris a job and/or partnership for a future venture. It was luck that had brought them all to the warehouse and Buck wasn’t going to question it.
They’d intercepted Stephenson and his two goons the night before at the airport. Ezra had spent the better part of two hours questioning and studying the militia leader. All of the transactions had taken place over the internet, but there were mutual acquaintances who would’ve talked to Danne about Stephenson. He would know a lot about Stephenson, even what he looked like by picture.
Fortunately, they had a really good prosthetics department and Stephenson was similar in build and coloring to Ezra to start with. His nose was bigger, broken a couple of times, and his jaw a little squarer, but they were enough alike to pass with some help.
He, Ezra, and Josiah strode towards the gated entrance where Ezra announced who they were. Once escorted inside, Ezra found Danne and greeted, “Good to finally meet you, Danne.”
Buck glanced around like a good bodyguard would, and spotted Chris and Vin over by the SUV they had arrived in. His eyes kept moving, not stopping to rest on them, and noted that most of the men working in the warehouse were unarmed. Which was good, because they were actually pretty even in the numbers department. Then he remembered that they were surrounded by weapons and mentally smacked himself in the head.
Taking up position by Josiah, who was still standing directly beside Ezra, Buck was the first one to notice that there was a commotion going on by the gate. Ezra and Danne continued to conduct business, though, and just after Danne took possession of the two million dollars, Buck flipped on the formerly passive electronic signal to let JD know it was time to come in.
* * * *
“Buck’s signaling now,” JD announced tensely.
Reynolds replied over the comm, “Not a moment too soon. I think their cover’s about to be blown.”
It was only Nathan’s strong hand on his shoulder that kept JD in his seat. “We’ve gotta…”
“Stay put,” Nathan cut him off. “Buck and the others can’t do their job if they’re worried about you and me. We’re the weak links, JD, like it or not. And if you don’t like it, I suggest you get yourself qualified for field work.”
Even though he knew that Nathan was right, it rankled badly for JD to stay in his seat. He knew how to shoot, was a damn good shot, too. First thing all this was cleared up and everyone was safe, he was definitely going to get himself qualified. Staying behind sucked.
From the look in Nathan’s eyes, he thought the exact same thing.
* * * *
Vin
didn’t know who shot first, but all of a sudden, bullets were flying everywhere.
He instinctively jumped on Chris, tackling him to the floor and the relative
safety of the SUV. Unfortunately, that brought them out of sight of the other
agents, so they couldn’t tell what was going on with them. Chris signaled him
to go around to the crates on the east side, while he went on to the west and,
though he didn’t like separating, Vin knew they had to
get
Nodding, Vin crawled along the edge of the SUV and looked carefully around before leaping for more cover behind a stack of crates. Reading the label, he grinned fiercely and popped the cover, taking out a semi-auto pistol and looking around for ammo which, logically, was right next to it in another stack.
Once he was armed, Vin took another look around and saw that Jo and his buddies
were pinned down, but they at least had
Glaring, the man complied and Vin scanned the area again. Back-up had arrived and was mopping up the rest of the bad guys.
“Vin!”
Chris’ shout of his name startled him and Vin’s head jerked around to the sound. Before he could even figure out what the warning was for, someone tackled him to the ground at the same time a gun went off. His head slammed painfully into the concrete and there was multiple gunfire exchanged before things went quiet again.
Dazed, Vin nonetheless managed to see that his ‘attacker’ was the man Chris had named Jo and didn’t start struggling. Instead, he forced himself to roll them over, carefully depositing the bigger man on the floor. He immediately pressed his hand down on the blood seeping from Jo’s shoulder and called out, “I need help here! Agent down!”
A few seconds later, black hands pushed his away and other hands pulled him to his feet. He watched the man who’d accompanied Jo to the bar working quickly and efficiently on the bullet wound. The handsome face was tense, but not especially worried, which Vin knew to be about right, since the wound was high up on the right shoulder. So long as the bleeding stopped quick, Jo would be okay.
“How’s your head?” Chris asked.
That brought to mind the throbbing pain in the back of his head and Vin grimaced. “Been better. Been worse, too, though. I’ll live.”
Chris briefly smiled at him and glanced down at where Jo was being loaded onto a stretcher.
“I told you to keep your ass in the van!”
Chris laughed softly, then cleared his throat and assumed a severe expression. Which he ruined by winking at Vin before turning to the big guy with dark hair, who was still cussing out a young man in his early twenties.
Vin watched as Chris took the defiant young man aside and, within minutes, had the kid practically in tears. Astonished, Vin didn’t at first notice the slender man who’d joined him to view the spectacle.
“Ezra P. Standish, at your service.”
Looking at his new companion in surprise, Vin automatically took the man’s hand and answered, “Vin Tanner.”
“Don’t mind Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Larabee. They only have the boy’s welfare at heart,” Ezra informed him. “Come on. Looks like they’re just about done with the poor kid, so we’ll be heading on to the hospital to check on Josiah.”
Vin nodded and followed him over to the other three, mind awhirl with everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball somewhere and sleep for a month, but that wasn’t likely to happen. There would be reports to fill out and then he’d most likely be looking for another job.
Despite what Chris had said, it was much too much to hope that Larabee would offer him a spot in his new unit. These guys worked together like they’d known each other for years, not weeks. He really doubted they’d want to mess that up by asking him to stay on.
* * * *
Nathan grinned down at Josiah as his friend gritted his teeth and demanded, “But why can’t I go home?”
“Because you can’t even move your arm to take a piss, Josiah,” Nathan answered bluntly. “You need to have someone with you. Besides that, you’re chock full of drugs and couldn’t stand if you tried.”
Josiah tried to prove that theory by sitting up. He paused for a moment, groaned, and fell back on the ER bed.
Shaking his head, Nathan asked, “Happy now?”
“My arm hurts,” Josiah gasped.
“Really?” Nathan replied, moving closer to rearrange the pillows so Josiah was comfortable again. “Could you listen to me and just stay put for the night? I’ll come get you in the morning and you’ll stay with me until you’re back to normal.”
Eyeing him suspiciously, Josiah said, “You just want to make sure I do what you say.”
“That too,” Nathan agreed, grinning.
Josiah sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay here.”
“And not give the nurses any grief.”
“And not give the nurses any
grief.”
“Good. Get some sleep, ‘siah, you did good today,” Nathan said softly.
Josiah gave him a tired smiled and closed his eyes.
Nathan watched him for a few more minutes to make sure he really fell asleep, then headed out to the waiting area. He found Ezra and Buck sprawled in the uncomfortable chairs, Chris and Vin off to the side talking, and JD pacing restlessly back and forth. They all came to attention when Nathan entered the area, crowding around him. He assured them, “He’s gonna be fine. They’re going to keep him overnight just to keep an eye on him, and I’ll pick him up in the morning.”
There were happy murmurs from all the men and Chris said, “You all did good tonight. Take tomorrow off and do the reports on Monday. Have a good weekend.”
“You sure, Chris?” Buck questioned.
Chris smiled and nodded tiredly. “Positive. I’ve got a meeting with the Director in the morning, but that’s all I’m planning to do tomorrow, myself. Get some rest.”
At that, Buck grabbed JD in a headlock and started dragging him to the exit with, “And when I tell you to do, or not do, something, you God damn better well fuckin’ listen to me! If you ever do something like that again...”
The doors closed on the rest of the diatribe, as well as JD’s squawks and protests, leaving the others to laugh at the sight.
“And on that happy note, I am retiring for the rest of the weekend at locations unknown. Good night y’all, and I will see y’all on Monday,” Ezra said, offering a group wave before heading out.
Running a hand over his head, Nathan echoed, “I’m off as well. Gonna get some sleep before coming back for the old rascal.”
Chris clapped him briefly on the shoulder and stated, “Good work, Nathan.”
“Thanks, man. See you on Monday,” Nathan replied through a yawn.
Chris and Vin walked him out, and he parted ways with them in the front to get a cab, insisting that he didn’t need a ride home. Mostly, he didn’t want to intrude. It looked like they had a lot to talk about and Nathan didn’t want to get in the way.
* * * *
“Where do you live?” Chris asked, unlocking his SUV, glad that Buck had driven it to the bust so he’d have a way to get home. And get Vin home, too.
Vin hesitated before answering, “Mission Hills.”
Chris blinked at him for a second. “You carry a gun to get home nights?”
Laughing softly, Vin opened the door and didn’t reply.
Chris shook his head and moved around to the driver’s side. Getting inside, he started the vehicle and asked, “You want to get some coffee first?”
“I think I just want to get home and sleep for a long time,” Vin countered looking out the window.
Pulling out of the parking spot, Chris left the hospital lot and headed south. The drive was silent, but not uncomfortable, and passed quickly. Too quickly, for everything that Chris had to say to Vin. He pulled up in front of a dilapidated apartment building with the standard stucco front and parked, but didn’t turn off the engine.
“Something you wanted to say?” Vin asked, finally looking over at him.
Chris nodded and replied, “I want you to join the team.”
Frowning, Vin echoed, “Join the team? Why?”
“Because you belong on it...and because you belong with me. Just like I belong with you,” Chris said slowly.
“You don’t even know me,” Vin pointed out.
Chris shrugged. “I know enough. Knew enough the second I laid eyes on you, at the beach.”
Vin swallowed and looked out the window at the empty city street. “I can’t do both, Chris. It ain’t right.”
“Why not?”
“Because it ain’t. It ain’t fair to the others.”
“Do you really think I’d play favorites?”
“I don’t think you’d want to, but yeah. It’s only natural to favor someone you’re sleepin’ with.”
Chris’ lips quirked into a mirthless grin. “You think I only want to sleep with you?”
“You don’t?” Vin questioned, disbelieving.
“Of course I want to, but that’s not the whole of it. Vin, I love you,” Chris informed him.
Vin’s jaw dropped a bit and he just stared at Chris.
This time, Chris really smiled and observed, “Not what you thought you were gonna hear, huh?”
“No. Definitely not,” Vin agreed. “Chris, this is crazy. You can’t love me!”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t even know me!”
“I didn’t know my wife, either, but I feel in love with her at first sight.”
“But...”
Chris put a finger over Vin’s lips to stop the words. Serious, he said, “I know you’re not real sure of anything these days, Vin, but you can be sure of me. You can be sure of all the guys on the team. We’re not going to hang you out to dry. I’m not going to. I never will. And I love you. I’m going to keep after you until you realize I mean it, too.”
Shaking his head, Vin pulled back and stated, “You’re crazy.”
“As a bedbug,” Chris agreed complacently.
A soft huff of amusement escaped Vin and he shook his head again. “I’m sayin’ yes to joining the team, but no to you. It ain’t fair to the others.”
“All’s fair in love and war, Vin, you should know that,” Chris replied.
Vin snorted and put his hand on the door latch. “I’ll see you on Monday. You should probably meet me in the lobby so they don’t think I’m there to be questioned.”
“A haircut wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Over my dead body.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They shared an easy laugh and Vin opened the door, climbing out with a simple, “Night, Cowboy.”
The door was closed before Chris could ask, so he put the window down and stuck his head out of it with, “Cowboy?”
Pausing a few steps away, Vin grinned back at him and explained, “Well you’re sure not like any sheriff I ever met, so yeah. Cowboy.”
Chris touched the tip of an imaginary hat. “Night, Vin.”
He stayed at the curb until after Vin had unlocked the outside door and closed it behind him. Chris finally put the window back up and pulled onto the street, heading for the freeway and home, whistling. Vin had said no, but he hadn’t said no to future pursuit, and Chris had always been one to make his own opportunities. He’d had to work for Sarah, and fully expected to work for Vin.
All really was fair in love and war.