Pretty Pictures (ATF)
by Brandgwen
Disclaimer:
The guys belong to Mirisch, etc., the universe belongs to Mog,
"Addicted to Bass" belongs to Daemion/Abrahams (copyright
1998 Prozaac Recordings) and "Last Ditch Cabaret" belongs
to Mark Seymour (copyright 1997 Mushroom Records). Ezra's past is the
sum of previous fanfics, but the rest comes purely from my head, so
don't hold me to any facts. I'm not making money, I'm not worth
suing.
Author's Note: This fanfic is the first in the Deep
Cover series.
The Briefing
Agent Chris Larabee liked surveillance photos. Done well, they turned observation and opinion into hard evidence, and if a jury could see something with their own eyes they would very likely believe it. Larabee had some real surveillance experts in his elite ATF team. Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson were steady enough to sit for hours waiting for the shot and quick enough to get it when it appeared. Van Tanner was not so great at the waiting part, but could pick the best vantage point to get any photo. As for Wilmington and Dunne... well they had other strengths. The only member of the team who never worked surveillance was Ezra Standish. More often than not, he was in the photographs.
The photos Chris currently reviewed featured Standish more than once. It was comforting to see him there, even if the usually debonair agent was clad in cheap suits or t-shirts. He had been undercover for six months now, gathering evidence against a major investment company suspected of illegally importing firearms. Chris made a face. Six months was a very long time to be playing games. He had every faith in his agent to get the job done, but more stable men than Ezra had come loose working deep cover.
Larabee selected a set of five photographs, the clearest shots they had the four main players, plus one of Standish in his current guise. He made his way into the largest of the briefing rooms and began sticking the photos onto the large white board at the front. Beside each of the images, he printed the name and position of each person, large enough to be seen from the back of the room. Just as he was finishing, agents began filing in, ready to receive their assignments in one of the biggest raids the ATF had seen in five years.
When everybody was in and seated, Larabee began his speech. "Alright, everybody, this is going to be a big operation. I expect every one of you to pay attention and follow orders to the letter. Is that understood? The venue for this bust is a cocktail party," Larabee was not happy about this, but it was the only place they could be sure they could grab the suspects all at once, "be aware, there will be innocent bystanders. Now, this," he tapped the picture of Ezra with his knuckle, "is our operative. Many of you will know him, but you may not recognise him undercover. He is known to the suspects as Alexander Mitchell and that is how you will address him. These four," Chris pointed to the other photographs, "are our primary targets. They are the ones we know are involved in the smuggling operation. Their names are Conners, Smythe, Jennings and Jameson..."