Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. If they did, they would still be riding every week on our TVs. I use them for typing and composition practice. Thank you MOG for creating the ATF universe for us to play in.
Author's Notes: This is my first ATF story and is set in the late 90's. It is unbeta'd although I did read it out loud to my family. While I am publishing it in chapters, the story is fully written. Please read and review although flames will most likely be used for roasting hotdogs.
Family Blown Apart
Chapter 1He sat tied to a chair in an empty room on the upper floor of a warehouse. A single overhead light and a TV connected to a security camera feed outside another warehouse were the only other things in the room. There was no sound to the feed but he didn't need sound to know what the rest of his team was saying as they entered the warehouse. The tension in the room was so thick that even the proverbial knife couldn't cut it. Any moment his team would discover that he wasn't in that warehouse and exit, angry and more determined than ever. Seconds ticked into minutes. Then a bright flash burst on the TV screen as Chris Larabee's team and second family were blown away in a warehouse explosion.
7*7*7*7*7*7*7
JD shrieked with joy as he lit the fuse on another big firework. It flew up into the night sky where it burst with a fiery light. It brightened the faces of all of the men.
"Guys! This is great!" JD crowed. "I couldn't even light a sparkler growing up and now I can shoot them into the sky!"
Nathan shook his head in dismay. "Chris, why'd you have to go and get that permit to shoot off mortars? If the kid isn't careful, he's going to lose a hand."
"C'mon, Nathan. He's not doing bad. We only have two left anyway." Vin leaned back in his chair so that only two legs were left on the ground.
"And you! Stop leaning back like that! You could crack your head on a rock if that chair gives out!"
Josiah laughed loudly at the medic's fussing. Two cases wrapping up without a shot fired should have relaxed Nathan, but instead, it seemed to have made the man more paranoid than normal. Chris just sat on his porch railing watching JD and Buck shoot off the fireworks while slowly nursing his second beer of the evening. The only man not outside enjoying (or fussing over) the show was Ezra. When Chris had pulled out the package of mortars and the permit needed to shoot them off on his ranch, the undercover agent had quickly made an excuse to stay inside. The guys simply smiled at the excuse. Vin had pulled out Ezra's favorite classical CD and handed it to him. While the rest headed out front, Ezra retreated to the den to listen to it.
"Seven rounds, Ez. I want you to come join us after," Chris said, leaving no room for argument.
As Buck and JD argued about which of the last two to set off, Vin looked at Chris.
He knows how many rounds this year right?
Yep.
Good.
The first year that Chris had gotten the permit and the big fireworks, Ezra had just started joining them regularly at team holidays. The mortars had been a surprise for JD who had listened to the rest of the team talking about shooting off fireworks and lamented growing up in Boston where he couldn't even light a sparkler. Chris invited everyone out to the ranch for a BBQ and fireworks. They had all brought a few to play with: sparklers, fire crackers, and Roman candles. After they'd exhausted all the "normal" fireworks, Chris surprised JD with the big mortars. He'd bought a box that year, planning on each of them shooting off one or two to put a cap on the evening. He'd lit the first one to surprise the group and that had almost been the only one that night. It had whistled up into the air and showered the ranch in a bright red light as it exploded. He'd looked back, grinning, to see not a single man watching the display. Ezra was crouched down behind a porch rocker, shaking worse than a leaf in the wind.
"No, no, no. Not again. Please, not again."
The southerner just kept rocking and pleading for some event not to happen again. It took Vin a good 15 minutes to even get close enough to rest a hand on the undercover agent's shoulder. Twenty-five minutes later, they finally got the story out of him. Maude was attempting to woo an Irish businessman into marriage and was preparing to travel with him from New York to Belfast in late May, 1972. With school being out for the summer, she had been unable to find someone to watch Ezra when they couldn't send him away for several hours of the day. She ended up taking her son with her, saying that it would be good for the boy to get to know "his soon-to-be new father." Trouble was, the businessman had no interest in children, and Ezra had spent a very boring June and July wandering around Belfast by himself.
"With nothing else to do, by the middle of July, I knew where the good shops were. I had wandered the city many times and knew how to talk to get myself out of trouble."
"Your mother let you wander around Belfast without adult supervision?" Nathan was incredulous.
"When it became abundantly clear that being a father was not a high priority, Mother painted a picture worthy of a Charles Dickens' novel. I would be sent to boarding school with no expectation of vacations home if I were a 'bother' to her paramour. So I did what I knew best by 9 years of age: I entertained myself away from Mother's business."
Ignoring the shaking heads, Ezra continued his tale. He took the bus to Cavehill Road early in the morning. There were lots of shops there, he said, that would entertain him for hours. Added to it, it was an area that families gathered in, so he could often find someone to talk to. Suddenly, he had heard someone shouting to run! He had looked back at the loud explosion and saw what happened to the people who hadn't gotten far enough away. JD looked curious as to what he meant, but Vin shook his head. No reason to ask for details if Ezra didn't want to volunteer them. When Ezra refused to stop the fireworks due to his "mental weakness," Chris left Josiah in charge of the fireworks. He, Vin, and Nathan took Ezra inside where Ezra spent the rest of the time tossing back a shot of scotch whiskey at every boom.
Chris had planned on never getting a permit again because he thought the little pleasure most of his team got out of the fireworks was not worth turning his normally unflappable undercover agent into a quivering mess. Ezra, however, had seen the bright light of joy in JD's eyes after getting to play with "the big ones." He insisted that he could tolerate the noise as he would not "put a damper on the joy of youth."
"After all, Mr. Larabee, I am perfectly able to conduct myself with decorum during a bust so I see no reason that I could not handle a few fireworks. I have thought it over, and it was simply the unexpectedness which brought that unpleasantness to mind last year."
Still hesitant, Chris gave in to Ezra's insistence and obtained the needed permit and seven mortar fireworks. They followed the previous year's pattern of ground fireworks followed by the mortars. It went much better with Ezra being prepared for the noise. The first two shots caused him to flinch slightly but the sky bathed in blue and then green seemed to pull him back into the wonder. The third shot bathed the sky in a bright red again. Ezra was up on the porch in a flash. Since Vin had set his off already, he asked Ezra to teach him about the finer points of bourbon, and they both went back to the den. When the rest came in, Ezra could not meet their eyes. It took a couple days before he accepted that they thought no less of him. Finally, the rest of the story came out. Chris could have shot Ezra then. It turned out Ezra saw the blast take out a 14 year old boy. The sight of what the flames did to that boy was seared on his memory.
"Since that summer in Belfast, I have never enjoyed fireworks. Blue, green, purple – those can still excite me, but red brings back memories of flames. I would rather face a hailstorm of bullets than exploding flames any day."
JD looked at Ezra. "You thought that my joy of fireworks was more important than you having fun at the party? I don't want them if you're going to have nightmares afterwards."
"Nightmares? Mr. Dunne, I never said anything about nightmares."
Vin raised his eyebrow. "Then why ya been mainlinin' my coffee, Ez?"
Ezra refused to answer. He knew that if he lied, the rest would see right through it. That was the trouble with letting people get close: they learned your tells.
Chris refused to apply for the permit again. He was shocked when it showed up on his desk. Ezra had applied for it for him. Stubborn southerner! The whole floor must have heard Chris's bellow with Ezra in his office.
"I don't care what you think we need to do to have fun! I refuse to put you through hell for nothing!"
"Mr. Larabee, it is not nothing. It is a tradition that our Mr. Dunne lost out on due to nothing more than where he was born. I will simply excuse myself for that portion of the activities. I worked through the issue last year by listening to music and can do so again. I will not allow my weaknesses to hobble the whole team."
"Christ, Ezra, limiting our fireworks to just the ground is not hobbling the whole team," Chris said, rubbing the throbbing vein on his forehead.
Vin came in at that point. Obviously Ezra had talked to the rest of the team and had gotten them onboard. They would shoot off one mortar for each member of the team with JD getting to do the honors. What point the mortars would occur was up for debate. Finally Ezra admitted that even with the music he would hear each explosion. Chris finally caved when Ezra admitted that he loved the rest of the fireworks so if they shot the mortars first, he would then be free to "play" with the rest.
As JD finally lit next mortar, Chris pulled himself back to the present. He had no idea how he'd stop this next year. However, he couldn't let Ezra keep putting himself through torture every Fourth of July. JD sent the last firework skyward. As the blue light faded, the screen door opened. Ezra stepped out onto the porch.
"Gentlemen, I trust you had fun." Ezra looked calm and composed to Chris, who planned on watching him the rest of the night.
The rest of the night consisted of firecrackers and Roman candles. Laughter flowed out of them. Nathan even relaxed and forgot to worry about missing fingers or burns.
