Rating is for language and violence. This story is complete, but I'm still editing will be published on at least a weekly basis.
Characters: Chris is the main character, but all seven have an active part in the story. There is also an OFC, not a Mary Sue, if you don't normally read OFC's please give her a chance.
Universe: ATF
Disclaimer: Do you think if they were mine I'd abandon them the way they have been. They belong to the alphabet people and I hope they don't mind me borrowing them for a while. Several people need to be thanked, Mog for creating the universe, great job! My husband for being the sounding board for this story and Winnie for the great beta job she did. Without the encouragement of my hubby and Winnie I would have never gotten through with this! Special thanks to Winnie for naming this baby!
Synopsis: Chris is the object of an Internal Affairs investigation. The Seven must try to clear him while coping with his female replacement.
Buck Wilmington swore that his heart skipped a beat when he saw the tall blonde step off the elevator. He watched as she strode across the reception area, stopped and spoke with Angie at the front desk. His eyes never left her as she headed down the hall towards the office of Orrin Travis, the assistant director of the Denver office of the ATF. He quickly sized her up as being 35, about 5'10 with short blonde hair. He couldn't see her eyes as they were hidden behind sun glasses. By his estimate she was a size 10, tall, and she was dressed all in black, a female Chris Larabee. From the full length, black leather coat to her black heeled boots, she had that Larabee attitude and Buck Wilmington was in love, for the first time that day. Never one to miss an opportunity he grabbed a file from the in basket on his desk, casually stood and as only he could sauntered to Angie's desk.
"Hello darlin', suppose you could do me a little favor?"
Angie Easterly looked up from her computer into the sparkling blue eyes, looked back down and continued to type, "Her name is Elizabeth Everly, until yesterday she was the ASAC in Las Vegas. All I know is the judge was expecting her. He's in a rotten mood and I'm just trying to stay out of his way, anything else?"
"No, darlin', that just about sums it all up. Married?"
"No ring."
"Thanks, Angie." With that he returned to his desk. Several minutes passed before he looked up to see Ezra Standish staring down at him.
"What, Ezra?"
"Well, Mr. Wilmington, would you care to enlighten me as to the particulars of the recent visitor to our office?"
Buck looked at the undercover agent and grinned before replying in a seemingly innocent voice, "Why Ezra, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Cut the…" Ezra's retort was halted by the abrupt opening of Chris Larabee's office door. The SAC of the Denver office of the ATF walked through the office reaching the desk of Josiah Sanchez he stopped and talked for a moment and then left the office. The other six members of the ATF's infamous Team 7 watched as he walked purposefully down the hallway leading to Assistant Director Orrin Travis' office. The same hallway that only moments before had been occupied by the mysterious blonde. Ezra continued to attempt to pump Buck for information about the leggy blonde that had invaded the seventh floor of the Federal Building, but little was gained. Giving up for the time being Standish returned to his desk and the paperwork he was trying to organize for Grand Jury the following week.
Time passed and the six men continued on, unaware of the storm brewing down the hall. But minutes turned into an hour and then another thirty minutes passed. The team members began to pass worried looks around, finally giving up all pretense of working. It wasn't unusual for the Senior Agent in Charge to be summoned to the Assistant Director's office. What was unusual was for the unknown female ASAC to be there and for the meeting to last this long. The first hint of the impending disaster came when voices could be heard emanating from inside Travis' office. The voices grew louder and one by one each of the six stopped what they were doing and all began to looked expectantly down the hall. Suddenly the door of Travis' office swung open allowing the words to be heard plainly.
"Chris, don't do something you'll regret. Wait and let's see what happens. Don't go out there and get yourself in deeper." Plainly Travis was pleading with Larabee, but he was cut off by the female agent's voice,
"Agent Larabee I'll want to talk to you before you leave the building, get a statement and..."
All six agents were stilled by the booming voice of Chris Larabee, "Lady, the only thing I've got to say to you is 'fuck you and your anonymous informant' anything else you've got to say to me can be said to my lawyer."
With that pronouncement the man in black strode back down the hallway and into the deathly quiet office. He looked straight ahead, not glancing at any of the men, he slammed the door of his office. Inside he grabbed his black leather jacket and strode back out.
Wilmington stood and started towards him but was stopped by the look thrown his way. Buck Wilmington had seen that look before and had hoped to never see it again. It could only be described as murderous.
Far back in the corner of the spacious office sat Vin Tanner. He'd quietly watched the proceedings and studied the man who radiated anger. Tanner watched as Larabee punched the elevator button several times and then walked to the stairwell door. He grabbed the handle and slung the door back and disappeared into the stairwell. Tanner and Wilmington looked at each other, Josiah Sanchez and Nate Jackson just sort of gazed in the direction of the elevator while Ezra and J.D. Dunne sat disbelieving of the scene that had just unfolded before their eyes.
"What in the world was that all about?" asked the youngest member of Team 7.
Vin Tanner looked at J.D. and then surveyed the others before answering.
"I don't know, but it's not good. Did you all notice Chris wasn't wearing his gun and badge when he left?"
The other team members all sat in stunned silence when hit with Vin's observation. Each man wondered what had happened behind the closed doors of Travis' office. The shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence. Buck glanced at his phone intending to let his voice mail pick it up until he saw that it was Director Travis' secretary calling on the internal system.
"Wilmington."
"Buck, this is Rose. Judge Travis would like to meet with Team 7 in the conference room after lunch at 1:30."
"Sure, Rosie, what's up?"
"Buck, I really can't go into it, but please make sure that everyone is there and be sure to tell Ezra to be on time. I don't think any of you all want to push the Judge today."
"Okay Rosie, but I wish you'd give me a clue as to what to expect."
"I'm sorry Buck, I just can't talk about it. And by the way, the Judge asked me to tell you not to contact Chris until he's talked to you."
"Yeah, sure." Buck put the phone down and looked to the other members. "That was Rosie, the Judge wants to see us at 1:30 in the conference room, and he said not to talk to Chris until then."
"That must mean Chris will be at the meeting, right?" J.D. questioned.
Nathan Jackson walked over to the younger man and reached out and touched his shoulder, "Probably J.D." The twisting in his own stomach told Jackson that the meeting would be short of the team leader.
No one really felt like eating and everyone wanted to make sure that Ezra wasn't late, something he was well known for, so they ordered lunch to be delivered. No one really ate. Vin just sat and stared out the window. Josiah and Nate quietly read. Buck pretended to do paper work while Ezra and J.D. worked the crossword puzzle in the daily newspaper. Time seemed to drag until finally 1:20 rolled around. As one they stood and filed out of the office and down the hallway to the large conference room. Travis hadn't arrived yet and the seven sat in their customary seats. Noticeably vacant was the seat at the end of the table towards the hall door. That was Chris' seat, always had been. Even when Chris was a rookie agent before he made SAC he sat in that chair. No one ever questioned it, they all respected it, even the other team leaders. Chris Larabee was the alpha of the alpha males in the testosterone filled Denver office. It wasn't that he bullied everyone into submission they just all naturally looked to him. He was the heir to the throne, everyone in the Denver office expected that when Travis stepped down as assistant director that Larabee would be tapped to take over.
At precisely 1:30 a haggard looking Orrin Travis entered the conference room. The usual smile of greeting was lacking from his tired features. He walked quietly to the head of the table and without preamble announced that Chris Larabee had been relieved of his duties and was on administrative leave without pay until further notice, pending the outcome of an Internal Affairs investigation. The six agents sat in stunned silence for a few moments before they all erupted at once. Travis shushed them and picked up the phone at his right hand. He pushed the button for his secretary and the others present heard him tell her to send in Everly. Without delay the blonde entered the room. Standing just inside the door she surveyed the room and gauged the climate, deciding that it was hostile, but not deadly. She walked straight to the vacant seat at the end of the table across from Travis. All eyes were on her as she pulled the chair out from the table and began to sit down.
Still stunned from Travis' announcement they sat in silent disbelief until J.D. croaked out,
"That's Chris' seat."
Stopping she looked at the youngest of Team 7. The debate could be read in her face. Once again she surveyed the faces of the men at the table before pushing the chair back in and moving further down the table to sit at Travis' side.
"This is Elizabeth Everly. She's the ASAC from Las Vegas and she has been assigned here until, well until further notice. She will assume command of Team 7 immediately. I expect for you all to fully cooperate with Agent Everly while she's with us. As for the internal affairs investigation, that will be handled out of the DC office. Agents from Washington will arrive tomorrow and begin interviews. I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you that withholding information or hindering this investigation could mean not only suspension or termination, but also prosecution. We've all known Chris a long time, some of you longer than others, but there have been some serious allegations made against Chris. I would recommend that you be very circumspect in your dealings with him pending the outcome of the investigation. Dismissed."
The six men filed out, all looking shell shocked. There was an eerie quiet surrounding them until they closed in on their office. They all gathered around Josiah's desk looking for some solace, some clue as to what had just happened.
As the men talked among themselves Buck Wilmington walked to his desk and picked up the phone. Dialing Chris' cell phone he waited impatiently until he heard a ring, but instead of hearing another he was greeted "the cellular customer your are attempting to reach is either out of range or the unit is turned off." He quickly disconnected and dialed the number to Chris' ranch, after the fourth ring the answering machine picked up. Slamming the phone down Buck turned to the others and announced his intentions of going to the ranch to look for Chris.
Josiah was the first to intervene, stopping Buck with his quiet response. "Buck, why don't you give Chris a little time. He's probably licking his wounds right now and we need to find out more about what's going on so we know how to approach him."
"Yeah Buck and you heard what the Judge said, that was a warning..." Buck didn't allow JD to finish before he lit into him. In no uncertain terms the younger man was informed that Chris Larabee was Buck's oldest friend, that he hadn't walked out on him when he tried to drown himself in whiskey after the murder of his wife and son and he certainly wasn't going to turn his back on him now. Further discussion was forestalled by the approach of Elizabeth Everly. The heated atmosphere suddenly became noticeably frosty.
"Gentlemen, I understand that these are strained circumstances, but I'm also aware that we are all professionals and will conduct ourselves as such at all times. It's my understanding that you, Agent Sanchez are the designated executive officer for Agent Larabee" Josiah nodded, and Elizabeth continued, "I'd like to see you in my office. Please bring any files that you feel I need to be brought up to date on."
Rose approached with a stack of files and stopped at the entrance to the large office occupied by Team 7. Everly looked at her and motioned her in, Rose sheepishly glanced around the room and then told Everly that she'd pulled the team's personnel files and asked where she wanted them. "Put them in my office, I'll look them over and return them when I'm finished. Thanks Mrs. Adams"
Turning her attention back to the men she opened her mouth to continue but was cut off by the soft voice of Vin Tanner. Elizabeth looked at him and then asked him to repeat what he'd said.
"I said it ain't your office, it's Chris'" The tension built as she stood almost statuelike staring into the deep blue eyes of the team sharpshooter.
"No, it's not, not anymore. It may be his after this is all over, but right here, right now, it's mine and it will be mine tomorrow and the day after and until I go back to Las Vegas, if I go back to Las Vegas and you, Agent..."
"Tanner", Vin supplied.
"You Agent Tanner need to remember that, and if you can't remember that I can arrange for you to take some time off until your memory is better, or you can transfer to another office. I understand there are several openings in Buffalo and one or two in Miami, if you prefer warmer weather. And while we're at it, let's just clear the air. I didn't ask for this assignment, I have plenty to keep me busy in my own district. I'm just like the rest of you, I get orders and I follow them. They don't ask me how I feel about them they just expect me to do the job, and do it well. Now if any of you think you can no longer do the job that you were hired to then you need to either turn in your leave request, your transfer request or your resignation and I don't particularly care which it is! The last time I checked there were 2549 people on the roster to be ATF agents, I'm sure that any one of them would be glad to fill your slot. Are there any further questions?" Without allowing time for any of the six to speak, she continued. "Good, let's roll. Sanchez, you're with me." With that she turned and walked straight to the closed door of Chris Larabee's office. Upon reaching the door, she stopped as if gathering courage. Taking a breath to steady herself, she opened the door and walked in with Sanchez following. As she walked around to the back of the desk, and began to sit in Larabee's well worn black leather chair, she motioned for Josiah to close the door and be seated.
Josiah watched as the young woman seemed to wilt slightly and then drew herself back up to her full height. She glanced around taking in the masculine furnishings before lighting her gaze on the man in the seat before her. "Agent Sanchez, you're the profiler of the team and I need your insight, your take on the team itself. I need you to tell me if the team is going to self destruct without Chris Larabee here to hold it together."
Josiah looked into the green eyes of the woman behind Larabee's desk. Silence reigned through the office and as he faced her, weighing her, processing body language, the tone of voice, the look in her eyes, not the one on her face, because her face was masked behind an invisible wall.
"Chris Larabee."
"What?" she asked him.
"I said Chris Larabee, you're Chris Larabee. I don't mean really, I just mean you're a female Chris Larabee. You could be his twin, you look like him, you walk like him and chew butt like him. I'll bet you even live like him. You drive a truck..."
"Wrong, I drive a Blazer."
"Full size, black, your closet is full of black clothes, you're driven and you love tequila, Patron, silver."
"How did you know?" her eyes almost betrayed the surprise she felt.
"Because I know Chris Larabee and after all that's what I get paid to do, know people. And just like Chris you've suffered a great loss, but you do a good job of hiding the pain."
Elizabeth sat momentarily stunned, how could this man know so much about her? How could he read the loss, was it still that plainly written across her features? She thought that she'd bid goodbye to that pain when she'd buried her husband. She remembered that when they'd placed his coffin in his grave, she'd begged to open it just once more, so that she could just tell him goodbye. She'd not said it to him that day, he'd let her sleep as he rose and readied for the flight to Washington. He didn't know then that it would have been their last chance to tell each other of their love. Shaking herself, she came back from that faraway place where they were once again together.
"Well Agent Sanchez.."
"Please call me Josiah."
A slight nod of her head indicated her acknowledgment, "Josiah the reason I wanted to talk to you was not about me, but about the team. I need to know who's who and what their individual function is to the team." With that she reached for the top file folder and laid it in front of her on the desk. She carefully opened it, almost as if she were afraid of what it held.
"Vin Tanner."
"Vin, I could say that you and he have already drawn the lines for that game. Vin is our counter-sniper. He takes his job and our safety very seriously. He's been wounded several times. Never married, lives alone in Purgatorio, not the best part of Denver. Ezra won't even park his car there, he just honks the horn for Vin to come out. Quiet, unassuming, gets the job done."
Looking through the file Elizabeth flipped through several pages before closing it and looking into the eyes of the former priest. "What about his relationship with Chris Larabee?"
"They're close."
"How close?"
"What are you asking me Agent Everly?"
"I'm asking you if Vin Tanner's loyalty to Chris Larabee will interfere with his ability to do his job, even if doing his job means helping to prosecute Larabee."
Josiah reeled from the blow her words delivered. Taking a few moments to sort his thoughts the office again grew silent. Finally his steel blue eyes met her clear green ones across the desk. Josiah straightened in the chair and returned her blow with a flurry of words.
"There is no question of Vin's loyalty and integrity, nor is there a question about the loyalty and integrity of any of the agents of this team, especially that of it's leader. I don't know what charges have been leveled against Chris, but I can assure you that they are not true. There's not a more honest, loyal, truthful, dependable man on the face of the earth than Christopher Larabee."
"That remains to be seen Agent Sanchez." she said softly." But let's continue, on to Agent Standish."
Josiah noticed that she had reverted to the more formal address. Calming himself in order to continue he told her about the undercover agent and his unique ability to assume an identity as needed. He told her of Ezra's exploits over the past three years since joining the team. He left out his shadowed past with the FBI in Atlanta and the murky story that had caused the young man to become a pariah amongst his peers and led to his eventual transfer to Team 7.
When he finished with his assessment of the Southerner he looked at Elizabeth. She looked up from the folder in front of her and once again stared deep into the steel blue eyes of Josiah Sanchez.
"And what about the fiasco in Atlanta? Or did you think that was something that I didn't need to concern myself with?"
"It's not worth the time spent discussing it. The allegations were unfounded and the agents who leveled them were nothing more than jealous slackers."
"I see." She closed the folder and moved it to the right side of the desk. Picking up the next folder in the stack, she flipped it open and sat reading it for a few moments before saying the name without looking up.
"Nathaniel Jackson?"
"Nate, a good agent, good investigative skills, but also held dear to us for his emergency medical skills. He's the one who patches us up till the 47's get on the scene."
"John Dunne?"
"Ah yes, our youngest member. He goes by JD, he's a computer whiz. We don't need OIR, we have JD. Most of the time you don't want to know where the information he gives you comes from. He's young, but learns fast. Very dedicated to his job..."
"And Chris Larabee, too?"
"Agent Everly, all of us in the team are loyal to Chris. None of us have family, we are our own family and Chris has been the big brother who's kept us together. He's the one who sits by our hospital beds until we're healed. He's the one who opens his home to us on holidays, our birthdays and whenever we feel the need. He's the one who put this team together. He rescued each and every one of us from some hell that we'd created or had been pitched into."
"Even you Josiah?"
"Especially me. I had lost purpose, wasn't using the skills I was blessed with. I was hiding my light under a basket. And then I got a call from Chris asking for help, saying he needed me. It had been a long time since anyone said they'd needed me. The thing is, I needed him, and the rest of the team more than he needed me."
"Last, but not least, Buck Wilmington." Effectively cutting off further revelations from Josiah she trudged on to the last of the team.
"Agent Wilmington is our transportation specialist and our equipment technician. He also assists Agent Dunne as our Technical Services Officer."
"I believe he is also Larabee's oldest and best friend?"
"You could say that. Buck and Chris go way back. They went to basic police school together. I believe that for a while Chris was Buck's sergeant on the PD. Buck and he were traveling together when Chris' wife and son were murdered. A point that has never escaped Brother Buck. He may forgive himself one day, but not anytime soon; probably only after Chris forgives himself and that may never happen."
"Josiah, I appreciate your candidness. I know this is a difficult situation, for all of us. I hope you feel like you can work through this. That you can continue on with your duties as executive officer." Rising from the chair she extended her hand to Josiah, who stood and clasped it. He noticed the firm grip and the direct look, eye to eye, not backing down an inch. As he turned and walked from the room he wondered if Chris Larabee had a sibling that he wasn't aware of, because Josiah was convinced that Elizabeth Everly was a younger, female, very female, Chris Larabee. Shaking his head he slowly returned to his desk.
Five pairs of eyes watched him as he walked across the office, they all caught the slight shake of his head indicating they shouldn't talk. The remainder of the afternoon drug by, the office noise kept to a minimum, the silence broken only by the ringing of the phone and the click of fingers tapping out on keyboards. The glances that were passed amongst the five were furtive. Buck kept trying to reach Chris, but continued to get the answering machine and the electronic error message telling him that Chris' cell phone was still cut off. As five o'clock rolled around the men of Team 7 quietly closed up shop. By unspoken mutual agreement they all left minutes apart, each headed individually to their respective vehicles parked in various locations in the underground garage of the Federal Building.
Upstairs Elizabeth Everly stood and began to inspect the office that she would temporarily occupy. It was furnished in dark mahogany woods with black leather couch and desk chair. The chairs facing the desk were dark charcoal grey cloth with leather trim and matched the chairs to the small table in the corner. The bookcases were filled with manuals, law books, videos and books. Judging from the selection she surmised that Larabee's tastes ran the spectrum. There were books of war and military history on the same shelf with antique volumes of Tennyson and Shakespeare. But what surprised her the most, a single book, nestled among the others, totally out of place in the cold office, a well worn copy of "Guess How Much I Love You". Reaching for it she started to pick it up, but changed her mind, not knowing why, just a thought that maybe, that was just too much of an invasion of Chris Larabee's privacy.
She turned to the large wall that was covered with framed certificates and photos. Awards and commendations hung next to Chris' college and FBI Academy diplomas. Graduation photos and personal ones as well, most with the other members of the team, but in the center of it all, almost enshrined, a picture of a woman and a small boy. The woman appeared to be in her late 20's, red hair, beautiful, probably the most beautiful smile Elizabeth had ever seen. The woman appeared to glow and the little boy, blonde hair, green-eyes full of all the things little boys are full of, and something else. While the photos were taken in a studio and the poses were almost formal, there was such a life force present in the two that it was almost as if you could feel them in the room with you. She broke away from the riveting force in the photograph and continued her survey of the room.
She went back to the desk and sat down. Leaning back in the chair she closed her eyes and tried to think of how and why a man who had achieved so much could throw it all away. When she'd started in the job, her first training officer had told her that everyone had their price. He'd said that the important thing was to not sell yourself too cheaply. He'd told her that you had to figure that you were going to get caught and since you were a cop, you would go to jail. So you had to multiply your salary times the number of years you'd have to serve and then add in the number of years it would take to get a job. And then he told her not to forget to allow enough for sleeping pills, because you'd never be able to sleep again, but you'd save money on mirrors, because you wouldn't be able to look into one again.
Once again her thoughts turned to Chris Larabee. As she looked at a picture of him and Buck Wilmington in uniform, she hoped that he'd set his price high enough.
Two million dollars could buy a lot of sleeping pills.