Recently I began writing a very different story to "The Larabee Girl" which is featured in present day London, but I liked the characters so much that I began writing this featuring some of those. I hope you all enjoy.
Ezra's bit of french translates (poorly) to: In the shortest terms, yes my countryman and friend.
Magnificent Seven of themselves and do not belong to me
One
"Thank fuck for that."
The less than eloquent terminology for the ending of such a large case made Ezra shake his head, although he could understand where his friend and colleague, Vin Tanner was coming from. Team 7 of ATF had undertaken a gargantuan case which involved breaking into the dark web as it were, to try and smoke out some gun runners. Ezra had had a relatively low profile in the case beyond the normal inside-man job, which had closed the deal and he'd been arrested for. The shootout had been relatively peaceful with only a bullet to Buck's shoulder that he was playing on for all he was worth. He'd been downstairs, waiting for the arrival of some agents who'd been working the dark web from the other side of the Atlantic.
"Heads up, we're up for some inter-agency co-operation," Chris said, opening the door from his office. He'd been in there all morning, reassembling the fire alarm that he'd broken to smoke his cheroots in peace. He looked around the office. "Well this is spick and span. Well done, Josiah."
The others all groaned, as Josiah chuckled and shook his head at the small Bonsai tree on the windowsill. "Adds a nice touch I think."
"Never mind that me and Vin have been moving the office around," mocked Nathan, putting his paperwork to one side and smiling in relief that it was no longer a stack as previously. "What about Ezra?!"
"I've been supervising and providing moral support," Ezra replied, smirking and flashing his gold tooth.
"What've you done, except pass commentary about the noise that the vacuum cleaner made?"
"Exactly and I've skipped that in your chatter, you paper clipped most of your files upside down. I negated to tell you as you were so officiously pompous... as our kind-hearted profiler is fond of saying pride becomes before a fall." Nathan looked back at his paperwork before letting out a series of lucrative cursewords. "Neither am I a bastard, Mr. Jackson. I do believe, that they were in the throes of marital bliss when my birth was foretold. I've been my revising my frankly stupendous knowledge of the sinuous traversing of the beautiful vernacular that is French for our congregation with Interpol."
Chris merely raised his eyes heavenward. "I take it from that grand speech Ezra, that you speak French?"
"I merely consider it polite to learn my new friends languages, though I do quite fancy it adds a hint of class and daring to a conversation." He grinned. "Dans les termes les plus brefs, oui mon compatriote et ami."
"You're just being your normal jack ass self," JD teased, looking as his phone beeped. "Buck's on his way with the judge and the Interpol agents. Two men and a woman."
"Which came in first?"Chris leaned on the doorway, watching the elevators lights light up announcing the floors.
As it happened, Buck piled through the fire exit door, taking a long shuddering breath and panting. Chris raised his eyebrows, used to his friends theatrics, before Buck began speaking. "F-B-I."
Chris tightened his jaw. That was an unexpected displeasure, and from the room he noticed the others sitting up and paying attention or rather assuming positions, mostly around Ezra. The man had been the subject of numerous rumours in the agency, and every visit from the rival agency brought renewed whispers and unfounded glares from newer agents – never mind that Ezra generally got the job done. He was an excellent cold-reader from his youthful days with his mother.
"Ezra?"
Ezra didn't look a bit concerned, and there wasn't even a brief tell that told the others he was concerned. In fact, the young man was smiling to himself playing with his cards a set of solitaire. "I don't see Mr Larabee, why I should facilitate their erroneous viewpoints about me in front of honoured guests." It was the most calm that Ezra had been where it concerned his former agency. "You'd better get set, first impressions naturally are paramount."
There was the distant ding of the elevator and the sound of Judge Travis's voice announced the arrival of the new group. As ever, Ezra's timing had been impeccable. He leaned forward in his seat
Four people entered the room, one being Judge Travis who was sporting a cane today which he leaned on for support. One was most certainly stock FBI, black suit, black shoes, black sunglasses despite the sun outside being dark and grey. A younger man stood next to him, carrying a laptop under his arm and looking much the same age as JD. A woman stood to the back, and Chris couldn't help but notice her hazel eyes flickered lightly all over them.
"Billy was practising with that catapult that you so kindly gifted him, Mr Dunne... shot me right in the knee with a quarter... now Emmy's got me walking with a damned walker." Buck snorted earning a glare from the Judge. "Don't worry, revenge will be when I'm doing the Christmas bonuses. Chris? If you'd do the honours."
Chris nodded a greeting to them all. "Nice to meet you all. I'm Chris Larabee, head of Team 7." A snort from Buck. "The snorter here is Buck. Josiah is our profiler," Josiah tipped his head to the group. "Nathan and Vin are right there...the technological whizz kid who foundered the idea is right here," Chris said, gesturing at JD who raised his hand nervously. He pointed at where Ezra had been sitting but had now been leaning forward in his seat. "And this is our inside man, Ezra Standish."
The young woman, who was following behind the group, paused and then walked back. Ezra was sitting back with a genuine smile creasing his face as he stood to greet her. Then she slapped him hard across the face. There were gasps from her team. There were lunges to him. But Ezra merely laughed then clipped her over the back of the head, the two not seeing the chaos around them.
"Bastard yankee-doodle-dandy Standish," crowed an English accent.
"Limey Bitch, Crook by name crook by nature," Ezra returned, smiling before the two shared a tight hug. "Hello, Annie." He looked up at the others in the room, still frozen at the switch. "Cheated me at cards."
"Told you before... can't cheat an honest man," the young woman turned around. "Sorry, me and Ez were pals growing up." She saw the looks shared. "Maude's not the only con artist to have a child... we often found ourselves in each other's company when both our parents found suitable marks to dump us on."
"Fought snakes."
"I still fight those Ezra!"
"So do I, it's just like role-play as your father used to say?" He laughed and hugged her again. "It's good to hear your voice, doudo, what brings you here?"
Instantly the demeanour altered and she nodded. "Well for starters, Ezra, I'm here to ask your young technological whiz to – sorry, I forgot my manners." She turned to the rest of the group. "My name's Anne Crook. I'm the head of the département d'infiltration in Interpol. This gentleman is Etienne Du Barry who heads the cybercrime unit." She gestured at the younger gentleman to her left. The young man raised his hand nervously although smiled at Anne, obviously used to her short tirades. She then turned to the other gentleman on her right, this time the efficient and gentle tone in her voice darkened. "And this son-of-a-bitch to the left is James Stamford. He's FBI's link to the Interpol agency." She smirked. "If I had my way, the smarmy bastard would be back in Atlanta where all the other rats fester... with the notable exception of this ex-FBI agent."
"I like her," Buck grunted to Chris, who was sharing a wry smile with Ezra.
"I'm glad you do Mr Wilmington, considering I need your young friend to help catch a crook - - pardon the name." She looked at the judge who nodded his permission. "Me and Etienne have been asked to refer with yourself. We have a gun runner who is well known but very tricky to catch... he's trying to make himself better known in the United States."
"His names Lorrimer," began Stamford. "We think that as he's a snake we may as well put Ezra Standish."
Ezra winced. "Now you've done it, Annie..."
The British woman had already marched across the room to the FBI man, and stood in front of him. "Stupid yank bastard, and I apologise t' the intelligent yanks in this room. That's an alias. He likes his movies... from The Sting. And if you'd read your brief when I picked you up you'd be read up." The man floundered. "And in case you didn't hear me, keep your fucking mouth closed. I've dealt with people like your lot before and I despise them. Now shut it or leave. Your choice." The man remained silent as she took a breath then stalked back to the others side. She looked at Chris. "The case made us sit up, Mr Larabee. We think we can do the two sides of the Atlantic... when in the EU or non-EU countries it'd be Interpol led and when in the US, ATF."
Chris looked at Orin Travis who gave a small tilt of his head. When Chris didn't speak, Orin broke in. "It's been agreed. And I don't mind telling you, Miss Crook's plan is foolproof."
"It should be," she glanced at Ezra. "Esther helped think it up?"
"My maverick," he snorted. "Started her young on the course of righteousness, Annie?"
"Well with her father being a good-looking reprobate let alone me, I thought it better, the way she thought this 'con' up was beyond measure," she saw the confused looks shared by the other men for the missing Esther. "I was a teen mum, Ezra here is my daughters godfather... and no Ezra, she is not here. And neither is Caelan – as if I could get the twins to leave each other... anyway her idea was inspired." She bit her lip. "Now down to business."
Within ten minutes there was a projector on against the white screen of the office. Anne stood there, looking at the screen, which showed the black and white photograph of their intended target.
"His names Harry James Holmes. Small time gangster in the West End in the early part of the eighties, he married a bankers daughter and upgraded himself to a new crew." She clicked to another image of the man, this time showing him in a photo with the previous Mayor of London. "Became a tell-all celebrity gangster, one of the best cons I've seen in a long while. He managed to charm the world...or at least the public. He's suspected of dealing in the sexual slavery around Amsterdam last year. But nothing proven – same with gun-running. We raid – we look like fools. This month he's over in the US meeting several other gun-runners. This is where I'm hoping your dark web expert there will come in. I'd like to keep tabs on him, wait for the weakness as it were."
"He owns a lot of weight?"
"London, in his kingdom definitely," Annie sat on the edge of the desk. "He knows we are watching him, but with – please take no offence – ATF being a lesser known agency, we can put surveillance on him."
"If you don't mind me asking," JD interrupted the young woman giving him a patient smile. "How come FBI don't have priority?"
"Because I said so, Ezra and me worked a few cases and on the last one thanks to these idiots coming in twenty minutes too early they got three of my men killed... I don't want that again," she replied, picking up a glass of water and taking a brief sip. "I also need Ezra."
"Anytime my sweet rose."
"Shush, I mean to select a US undercover agent, considering that I've been plugging holes since I arrived yesterday morning... I need your advice, you know most of the best in the business," she said, hazel eyes flicking at Chris. "And that is before I've even spoken to your agency, Mr Larabee."
Stamford stood up. "If you don't want our agencies help, considering-"
"No consideration, get out of this building," snapped the woman. Etienne smiled and murmured something to himself. "Et, escort the gentleman out." The young man stood as Stamford floundered. "I warned you not twenty minutes ago it was your choice. Now you get to explain to your boss why you got kicked off the team."
Nathan looked at Chris who was sharing a wry smile with the judge. The young woman meant business clearly and didn't mind saying so, but then he caught Ezra's eye. There was a line of concern on his face as was on Josiah's. The two men were reading the woman as she explained in more depth, though waited for the ding of the elevator.
"What're you skipping old friend?" Ezra asked, quietly.
"I want you on the in Ezra." She looked across at Chris and Josiah before sitting down at the table. "So far, every inside man that Interpol have sent in have ended up dead or incapacitated for life. I'm lucky no one's made me yet." She sat back on her seat, and considered. "I'm setting Ezra up here to help make a decision because regardless of the circumstances, I need my team to believe he's chosen someone else. I don't want more death on my hands."
"Do we have an in?" Josiah said, sharing a look with Chris. There was still something else under the surface, but much like Ezra was hidden under a layer of bravado.
"He's a gambler... and there's only one person I know that could beat you at cards, Ezra." Ezra, at that, withdrew his cards and began to shuffle. "He's made a name for himself at them. Won a celebrity tournament last month in London. He's attending a party in a fortnight's time... he's a movie buff likes the movie The Sting"
"Fort-"
"Two weeks," Ezra corrected. "How long?"
"As my late pappy would say, it's the long-con. The man is fastidious to the point and that's where the genius comes in," interrupted Judge Travis. "For all intents and purposes if he comes sniffing here, it'll look like Team 7 are working other cases. Ezra's car will be parked in work from the crack of dawn – Francis from Team 9 will be driving it." Annie snorted at which Ezra glared. "Don't worry, I have heard he's a very safe driver. You two are of similar age and similar enough to just have a glance, you Ezra will be working from a much more luxurious office across town." Ezra leaned back and grinned to himself. "Naturally, some of the team will be with you."
"Naturally... there's something else?"
"I want you to be as close to the person you believe yourself to be, Ezra." She said. "The one that no one believes except those idiots in the FBI think you are. I want you to be the worst of the worst... and I want him to know your conman but pretend that you've pulled the schemes... like... the Spanish prisoner... he likes gangsters and he admires the noble art of con-work."
"That's how you got in?" Josiah asked.
"Only us nine, Esther and my boss in Interpol know this. Not even Etienne." She took a deep breath. "Holmes is a charming gangster..."
"Pity," Buck said, darkly. "I take it you're not attending that party, Ezra?"
"With a theme like The Sting? It's just inviting other bureaus and Interpol for the sheer irony, and I do not facilitate men like that?" Ezra huffed and flipped the cards easily. "I am set to delicately decline and watch when the FBI try and strong arm him. In fact, I may attend just to laugh at that."
"Neither am I," admitted the woman, leaning in her seat. "I need you to develop his CV, Mr Dunne, as close to possible as your real ones Ezra."
"Curriculum Vitae, Mr Dunne. My references." Ezra smirked.
"Sorry, I forget you yanks use different words to me," she smiled. "Anyway... even Etienne will not know... I'm using him Mr Dunne to work with you to build up a profile on the dark web... I'd also like to formally invite you to a huge conference GHQ is having. They are most interested in how you worked the Chavez case." Chris saw the young man blush. "God, you keep getting younger and more bashful. That's if you don't mind, Mr Larabee?"
"We like to show off one of our finest assets," Chris said, nodding. "Not for long?"
"Week, it also gives an excuse for my visit." She paused. "I just want to make it clear, no one else knows. If this breaks it's on us. Me included."
There were solemn looks around the room, though the moment that Etienne returned, the group had returned to a questioning Anne. She'd wielded a book full of possibilities for Ezra to wade through 'for the best fit' before they'd gone off into the board room together. JD had sat with Etienne working out the best way to fit into the Dark Web for their purposes, and to build up a reputation, JD carefully omitting and adapting Ezra's chequered history, the two youngest members of the team chatting affably. The other two sat looking over the case notes, Ezra allowing her to rest her legs across his lap as she showed him paperwork, which he patted her leg in agreement with when she explained some ideas. Every time one of the team went in, there felt like an intrusion, not that the two seemed focused on anything beyond their work.
"What do you read about her, Josiah?" Vin asked, him, Nathan and Buck sitting in the quiet of the kitchenette their office had. "What's she like?"
"From clothes, professional woman, but loves her children. I'd say the necklace that she's wearing has a photograph of them in. From what I can make of her, and that's little, she's like Ezra, passed from pillar to post as a kid... thats why her and Ezra connect so well."
Chris walked back into the room. He'd been seeing the group off, although Ezra had asked his permission to escort his old friend back to her hotel room. Chris had agreed, whole-heartedly, not that he often did that for Ezra's mischief... but the look in the man's eyes told a story of their own. He didn't speak just went to the percolator.
"Who is she, Chris?" JD asked, as the older man poured some coffee. Chris raised his eyebrows to him. "I mean-"
"Anne Crook is Interpol's top undercover agent, worked her way up through the agency," Chris said, sipping his coffee and hissing as the mug lightly burned his lips. "From what I gathered from the Judge... she and Ezra were and are friends – they worked a few joint cases when he was in the FBI. Often played lovers."
"Played?" Vin let out a soft laugh at that.
"Is that what they're practising for, you reckon?" JD asked, innocently as Chris let out a dry chuckle. "What?! They could be? I mean they could go in together, pretending to be lovers... you know..."
"JD, they're not acting lovers. They are them." Chris sipped into his coffee. "And I don't need to be no profiler to tell you that."