The Absence of Shadows
an ATF/AU
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from the use of Magnificent Seven characters owned by Trilogy, Mirsch, MGM and John Watson. Thank you to MOG for creating a wonderful universe.
Rating: M14
Comments: This story was inspired by Tiffany's fic Oblivion, the discussion I had with MOG concerning Oblivion, a Boston Globe article, Robert Whiting's Tokyo Underworld, and David Kaplan's extensive information. I would not be able to write this story if it wasn't for the assistance of MOG as my beta and friend. Another round of thanks goes out to the patience of Shay and Kim for allowing me to bounce ideas off of them. THeir opinions are highly valued. Lastly I wish to thank all who take the time out to write feedback (especially Darla and Teresa) it is greatly welcomed. Circa 2000
On high narrow road
old traveler clears wide swath,
tiny scythe glinting.
Matsuo Basho
One Week Earlier
Coroner's Office
Seattle, Washington
The smooth body with its myriad of discoloration lay cold on the metallic table. There were not many places where white skin shined through. It made the body seem even younger than what Dr. Trundel deduced to be about twenty-two years of age. There was no identification found on the young man's body.
He was short in stature, but broad in shoulder. Probably had been working out, the coroner mused to himself. The doctor brushed the dark, longish hair off the boy's brow and felt the cranium. The John Doe before him had met an awful death. 'Blunt force trauma' always seemed, to Trundel, like such a mild term for the amount of violence used when describing an injury such as this -apparent repeated strikes of the victim's head against a hard surface. He would know more once he started the autopsy.
"I feel sorry for you, son." He said to the dead body. "Murder is not a happy death." The doctor's one way conversation with the corpse ended with the shrill ring. Trundel removed his latex gloves as he reached for the phone.
"Coroners," he stated, as he adjusted his reading glasses.
"Hey, Bob, don't touch that body we brought you." The voice said on the line.
"Why Steve? What's up?" The coroner said to the officer who had brought the body into the morgue.
"Works for the government. They'll be here soon and handle things." Trundel stared at the body; surprised such a young man worked in law enforcement.
"Okay," the doctor answered and hung up the phone. He went back to the body, and pulled the blue paper sheet over the naked form.
Now the night descends,
My hostelry is the shadow of a cherry tree.
My host; a flower.
Tairo no Tadanori
Warehouse District
Denver, Colorado
Vin stood, shifting his weight onto one leg. They had been there over an hour. Ezra was nearby weaving his spell, making a deal with a criminal, in the abandoned warehouse. The DEA had asked Team 7 to take over the case involving drugs for guns. They were busy and the ATF had the reputation of helping out, even though they had the least amount of manpower. Katsimoto Ikeda, the dealer, or 'adversary,' as Standish liked to say, had brought 5 men for backup.
The 5 men dressed in full suits, the same as the sharpshooter and undercover agent. As soon as they met Tanner, they had sized him up. Vin returned the stare, and now they were each in their own corners. Vin, with his arms crossed and one eye on Ezra. The five bodyguards congregating together on the opposite side talking about Tanner and keeping watch over five crates of guns that Vin and Ezra had delivered.
It was always the same lately. The bad guys were predictable. Vin could close his eyes and know exactly what Ezra was doing and how everything would go down. Chris and the rest of the team would move in yelling, "ATF," and another bust would be made. Then it would be on to the next assignment.
Vin looked over to the table, which contained a suitcase of cocaine packets. Tanner studied the man making the deal. He was a slight man of Japanese descent. He didn't look threatening and seemed to have a smile on his face since he walked in. Ezra had made the contact with him, and had told Team 7,
"He is an inconsequential peon. But as long as I've done the work we may as well add it to our arrest record."
Vin had to control a grin that almost erupted on his serious face. He remembered Ezra's droll tone of voice. It was Tanner's own boredom being echoed. They needed a vacation or an adrenaline rush. Maybe they should go bungi jumping this weekend. He'd have to ask Standish once they finished.
In the meantime, he studied Katsimoto Ikeda, while he pretending to clean the grime from under his fingernails. Ikeda didn't talk to his men, which meant they were probably familiar with the routine. Except this time would be different. It would end in an arrest.
Vin took a few steps in, to be closer to Ezra, closing the six-foot gap to just three. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt uncomfortable putting them in his pants pockets. It was so much easier to wear a pair of jeans then a pinstriped wool suit, although Ezra would disagree. It looked awkward when a man walked with his hands in his suit pockets. Vin compromised and clasped his hands behind his back, pulling the shoulders of his suit jacket slightly.
"Mister Ikeda, it was a pleasure doing business with you." Ezra extended his arm to close the case containing the cocaine. His Piaget watch flashed on his wrist as his suit sleeve pulled up. He had already given the five crates of semi-automatics and assault weapons to the Asian man. The cocaine had been tested for purity when they got there. The powdery drug was of excellent quality.
By Ezra taking the case, the deal would be done and arrests could be made. Damn, Vin thought, then reports would have to done and it would be an afternoon of paperwork. Maybe before heading back to the office they could stop at Starbucks.
"Shall we celebrate?" The Asian man said as he took out a packet of cocaine that had previously been tested, stopping Ezra from closing the case.
Standish gave a peripherally glance to Tanner. Vin knew the undercover agent was uncomfortable, as was the sharpshooter. This bust had taken an unexpected turn. Tanner should have known never to get lulled into complacency. The sharpshooter had been daydreaming of excitement and a possible caffeine rush. He was getting as bad as JD; allowing his mind to wander instead of paying attention to his job. Vin could feel his heart beat faster in anticipation of the unknown.
"How so?" The Southerner drawled.
"Don't you want a taste of the merchandise?" Ikeda said as he handed the packet to one of his henchmen.
The bodyguard clutched it, went to the table, and with a razor blade made a few thin lines. He looked over at his boss who gave him a nod. Vin watched as the man bent his body so that his nose was up to the white, powdery drug. The bodyguard finished, stood up and wiped his nose.
"I have a weak heart." Ezra begged off. "I've already suffered one heart attack, would rather not try to see the Creator again any time soon. " Standish smiled. Vin gave him a nod believing he had found a way out of a precarious situation. Ezra again went to grab the large, black, leather case.
Ikeda gripped his arm and stopped him; his long hands seemed like claws. "Really, I must insist." He let go of Ezra's arm. "I have quite the deal coming up and I'd like you to be a part of it."
"Deal?" Standish said with a smile trying to get the man to forget about the cocaine. "What kind of deal?" Ezra slowly crept his arm to the case.
"First, we must achieve the desired wa . . .umm. . .harmony." The drug dealer said glancing at Ezra's hand.
The undercover agent pulled back his hand, and carefully adjusted his suit sleeve. "Ah, yes, of course." Standish answered, stumbling over his words.
Vin caught the undercover agent's eye. They exchanged a look, which said, 'This lunatic started his day with a little coke that's why he's been smiling. We could lose our lives, this deal and maybe frying a bigger fish.' Tanner glanced down and studied the gray, cement floor, slimed over from past use. Gray, that is the color he worked in. Life for him was never black or white except when it came to his friends. Tanner spoke up.
"Ya need to have your head clear to talk business with Mr. Ikeda." He walked to the table by the two men, his new shoes squeaking as he went. He gave a quick bow to Ikeda and moved slowly to the lines of cocaine left by the bodyguard. Vin didn't think the drug dealer would follow him. The sharpshooter thought he would have a chance to somehow not ingest the vile drug.
Tanner was wrong again. Ikeda stood next to him, smiling, almost as if he could read, and enjoyed, Vin's discomfort. The sharpshooter had kept his head bowed not meeting the green eyes he knew had followed him. He cocked his head up to catch the stare and closed his eyes giving Ezra a message that everything would be all right. The knot in his stomach was telling him otherwise. Standish gave the sharpshooter an imperceptible nod and moved slightly to the left, blocking the camera JD had set up earlier.
Vin took a deep breath and bit the inside of his lip as he stared at the neat white lines. No one would know what he was about to do. The team, waiting, hidden outside the building, would think Vin had pulled a fast one. After all, he was street smart.
The same streets where he had learned about drugs, this wouldn't be his first experience. Back when he first came to Purgatorio- he was a green kid he didn't realize everyone gives you a sample so that you'd be hooked. But, Vin hadn't enjoyed the loss of control. Probably why he was usually the one ending up designated driver when the team cut loose with one of their 'binge nights'.
Vin clenched his hands trying to squelch the feeling of taking his Glock, shooting everyone and getting the hell out of the situation. One sniff, it would be done and it would be worth it. The team would be able to take down bigger players, and get some drugs and guns off the street.
"Yeah, right," Tanner whispered out loud, seeing only gray in his mind. The white lines were beckoning. Resigned, Vin bent down and saw only black.
Warehouse District
Denver, Colorado
Ezra, by taking that one step, had just involved himself in a conspiracy. Ezra Standish, much-lauded ATF undercover agent, could not come up with a solution. He thrived on unorthodox methods and being prepared for any scenario.
He hadn't thought his assignment through though. IT was a DEA remnant. He didn't give it his full attention. Standish would never make that mistake again. He would always be reminded of the thirty seconds it took for Vin to walk to the table and snort the cocaine.
Why had he let him go through with it? Why hadn't Ezra just turned the table over and gotten the hell out of there dragging Vin with him. When had the job become this important?
He knew the answers. Everything changed in Ezra's life when he met the seven men. They formed a cohesive team, which got results. This only strengthened Ezra's and, he knew, Vin's desire to put more criminals away. So he watched his friend snort cocaine so that they could get the bigger player, the larger bust and walk away with their lives intact. Then he would be part of a cover-up; Vin could count on him. This wasn't like his stint with the FBI where innuendo followed him and no one stood up for Standish. This time, the undercover agent vowed, would be different. No one would know. Ezra was thankful they were not wearing wires. According to JD, after nearly an hour of testing and repositioning, the equipment was prone to audible feedback in the warehouse
due to interference with nearby radio towers, and deemed unreliable. Standish had the camera covered, the next step was to get the information about the upcoming negotiations and get out. From there, Vin and Ezra would think of a plan. Standish hoped Tanner would not show any side effects from the one line of coke.
When the sharpshooter finished he looked up at Ezra, meeting his gaze. For a second all pretenses were dropped, and Standish could see the melancholy in the sharpshooter's face. The undercover agent wanted to offer some kind of physical contact - a touch of the shoulder, hell, even one of those irritating 'Buck punches on the arm' - *something* that would let Tanner know that things would be okay. Then in a moment the twisted grin was in place. They had to finish what they had put into motion.
"I'm fine," Vin said as he walked past Ikeda without a glance and took position beside Ezra.
Standish looked down at his watch; as if he was annoyed that time had been wasted. He hit the button on the side of his watch that would signal the team not to come in.
"Can we finish our discussion?" Standish drolled to the Asian man. Ezra wanted to wipe that damned smile off his face. Katsmutra Ikeda was proving to be a devious bastard; Ezra had not expected the jovial man to pull this kind of stunt. It was another reminder of the undercover agent's guilt regarding his less than perfect handling of the case.
Ikeda signaled to his brawny bodyguards to commence carrying the weapons crates to a white van that had been pulled into the warehouse when the criminals had arrived. "I have a deal- very profitable one with the Yakuza. I need another player to provide weapons."
Standish heard Tanner whistle through his teeth. Ezra smothered his loud exhale. He hadn't had any dealings with the Yakuza; in fact, the FBI had a special department within the agency that specifically dealt with that particular Asian crime syndicate.
Ikeda turned his back and began to walk to the van. He turned, and gestured that they walk with him. Vin was looking up at the metal ceiling beams so intently that Standish had to give him a push forward. Tanner shook off the hand, and gave the undercover agent an imperceptible nod saying he was fine. Standish closed the suitcase of cocaine and carried it with him.
Ikeda began speaking before they caught up to him. "I allowed this initial deal to judge you Mr. Simpson. I will be contacting you. Take care." The van door was opened and Ikeda stepped in. Vin helped slide the door shut. The bodyguard who had taken up position as the driver gestured for Standish and Tanner to leave first.
They went to the large entrance and slid the doors open. Ezra helped push the plank door and it easily opened. Standish could see sweat beading along Vin's hairline, and half hoped that Tanner would not fail with tradition and pull his long mane loose of the ponytail at his neck before they hooked back up with the rest of the team.
The sunlight outside was bright at one o'clock in the afternoon, and Standish pulled his Armani sunglasses from the inside of his Canali suit. Vin shielded his eyes with his hand, and went straight to the Jag, parked across the alley.
Keeping in step with Tanner, Ezra silently held out his hand and felt the weight of the Jaguar's keys as his partner relinquished them. No, Vin was not going to be driving.
Standish opened the trunk of his black car and placed the suitcase under a blanket. He got in the car, and not a word was spoken until the white van departed. The southerner placed the key in the ignition, and turned the engine.
His eyes were locked forward. He had risked a quick sidelong glance at Tanner as the man settled himself into the passenger's seat of the car, but Standish knew the last thing Vin needed was to feel as if he were being scrutinized.
So Ezra stared ahead into the disgustingly beautiful brightness of the day, finally breaking the tense silence as they pulled away from the curb. "How are you feeling?"
Warehouse District
Denver, Colorado
In the front of the building mixed in with the vehicles of the warehouse workers was a non-descript, gray Dodge Cargo van. Chris, JD and Nathan were inside monitoring the video screen. Buck and Josiah were nearby acting like warehouse workers and moving boxes around in the warehouse next door. Larabee saw the red button light up on the console, which met that bust was not going down. The leader slammed his hand on the keyboard of the laptop. "What the f*** are they doing?"
JD swiveled in his chair and removed the small computer from Chris's grasp. He carefully stroked the keys. The young agent was in charge of the equipment and was always lecturing about the team's abusive behavior toward the various gadgets.
"What 'they' are we talking about?" Buck whispered, into his microphone.
Chris exhaled and stood up, only to discover he had to crouch down so his head did not hit the roof. He sat back down again. Nathan answered, relaying what they had seen on the screen.
"Something happened between Ikeda and Ezra. The exchange kind of stalled, and now the bust is called off." Chris looked at the video screen and then back at medic. Jackson was leaving part of the story out.
Puzzled, JD added the last bit. "It didn't help that Ezra blocked the camera."
Through his ear piece Larabee heard Buck's intake of breath and then the soft, "woohee."
"Seems as if our Brothers had to do a little improvising," Josiah's rich timbered voice said through his mike.
Chris smiled at Wilmington's cackled statement. "You're the one who said yes to the DEA, now Ez feels he has to outdo them and play cowboy with Vin along for the ride."
In the van, Chris heard faint chuckling that he silenced with a glare. He wasn't happy with taking the assignment, but that was how the ATF worked. He also understood that Buck, Josiah and the others were trying to give Larabee some perspective and tell him there was no need to be pissed off by the situation.
Larabee wasn't even bothered that the bust was cancelled. It had happened before and he trusted Vin and Ezra's instincts. This time though, when he saw that red light go on, something in the back of Chris's mind was telling him the team was heading for trouble. It was made worse when Standish stood in front of the camera. Before that, Chris had found himself clenching his fists as he watched his two agents act strangely. It was nothing he could pinpoint, it was just a gut reaction.
"They're leaving." JD said, zooming in the camera so the van's occupants saw Ezra shaking hands with Ikeda.
"Buck and Josiah get back here." Larabee announced to his men in the warehouse. Chris watched Vin and Ezra walk out into the sunlight. He tapped his foot nervously, waiting for enough time to elapse so that he could call his two agents and find out what had happened. He pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. It was answered on the second ring.
"What the hell is going on, Ezra?" The darkly clad leader growled into the phone. At the same time Buck and Josiah had arrived at the van.
"I can see Chris is using those management skills of his," Buck said as he removed the microphone and earpiece and handed them to JD. Josiah followed suit.
Larabee wasn't paying attention to Wilmington's antics. He was waiting for the undercover agent's reply, which he could not hear over the loud music that suddenly came blaring though the phone.
"Ezra!" Chris yelled into the phone, losing any fragments of patience he had left. The tension, which had started in his lower back suddenly began to crawl up his spine.
'"Sorry, Agent Tanner hit the wrong button." Standish quickly explained. The undercover agent's Southern drawl became more pronounced as he slowly spoke into the phone. "We are now involved in a deal with the Yakuza."
Chris ran his hand down his face. "F***," he said under his breath. This case just got huge and technically was out of his jurisdiction. He would have to think about how to proceed. "Shit," Larabee said a little louder. The epithet got the attention of the others. Buck mouthed, 'What's up?' to Chris. The leader held up one finger, signaling the others to give him a minute and then he would explain. "We'll meet you back at the office." He said into the cell phone.
"Yes. . .aahh. . ." Ezra stuttered. "We'll . . .ummm. . . be there shortly."
Chris rolled his eyes. He didn't need this sh** from the undercover agent today. Larabee grinned and with minimal lip movement snarled, "This 'Ezra' time or normal time?"
Ezra replied with a nervous chuckle. "I see the rumors of your lack of humor are incorrect, Agent Larabee."
Chris shook his head and closed the phone. The tension had seemed to settle firmly in his left shoulder and he rolled the offending region, trying to relieve the tightness. He wouldn't feel better until he knew word for word what had happened in that warehouse with Ezra and Vin.
A side street
Denver, Colorado
Vin stared at the red spot on the top of his hand where Ezra had slapped him. He just wanted to put the radio on, and take his mind off of the cocaine coursing through his veins.
"Keep it together, Tanner," The sharpshooter hissed to himself. Ezra was on the phone with Chris. He saw Standish fidget in the leather seats of the Jaguar. The undercover agent was trying to think for the both of them. Vin would have to trust him for now. He couldn't think straight. All he could hear was the fast beating of his heart echoing in his ears.
Tanner rested his hands for a second on the back of his neck before bringing them forward, covering his face from the light coming through the windshield. His hands were covered in sweat and shaking. Vin let them fall and pushed the button to lower the window. He needed fresh air. He tore the elastic from his hair, and felt the cold, sweaty strands jump across his face and neck.
Ezra closed his phone and placed it back in his suit pocket. "We have to go back to the office." Ezra sighed, both hands lightly on the steering wheel. "Are you going to make it?" He pointed to Vin's right hand.
Tanner furrowed his brows and folded his hands together. He wanted to scream about his lack of control. He was glad that Ezra wasn't talking to him about what had just happened. There didn't seem to be enough room in his mind to go thinking about the warehouse right now.
Yet, a part of him felt confident and euphoric, giving him a feeling he could handle anything. "I'll take it minute by minute, and then...I need a favor, Ez."
"Anything," Standish answered. Vin knew he would agree. The undercover agent was easy for Tanner to read, even in his current drugged state. Ezra was feeling guilty. Vin couldn't deal with that now. He would have to fix that later.
Tanner thought of the only person who could help him with this predicament. "You need to take me to Kojay." He had mentioned the Native American chief before to the six men in passing. They didn't realize that Kojay was the one who helped Vin get some bearing in life after his stint with the army. He ended up traveling around the United States. Vin met Chanu, Kojay's son at bar in a hellhole in New Mexico. They got into some stupid fight. Chanu had been drinking too much due to the loss of his wife and unborn child. The sharpshooter was itching for a fight. They both ended up being taken to the reservation and there Tanner discovered his direction.
Kojay had been in Colorado staying with his daughter for a few months. The Chief would know how to purge the drug from his system and to give Vin back his balance.
Ezra nodded, while driving he placed a hand behind Vin's seat, and pulled out a bottle of Evian water for the parched sharpshooter. "So our plan is to fool our friends and then disappear." The undercover agent said sarcastically.
Tanner struggled to open the bottle. The plastic safety cap was sealed tightly, and Vin couldn't seem to get a grip on the white top. "Piece of cake," Tanner said as he finally opened the water.
Federal Building
Denver, Colorado
Ezra and Vin were silent on the elevator up to the eleventh floor. Standish took the few minutes to mentally curse the day, then pray that Tanner could get through the meeting so far they had made it through dropping the evidence off. Neither man had a chance to go to their desks. As the elevator door swished open, the secretary pointed to the conference room where the rest of the team had already gathered.
"We're on," Ezra said, as he pushed on the dark paneled door of the room. Standish went to his seat next to Buck and across from Vin who sat next to Chris.
"Ezra, I thought you hated ugly?" Standish almost jumped when Wilmington broke the silence of the group.
The undercover agent was suspicious. "I do, why?" He said as he took out his mini, black leather, notebook and Montblanc pen from the inside of his suit pocket.
The mustached agent gave a whoop and patted Ezra on the back. "You've got us involved in some ugly sh**."
Ezra laughed and tried to relax. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the sharpshooter planted his hands on top of the conference table. Vin sat rigidly in his chair and avoided eye contact with Chris. Tanner had explained in the car that as soon as he looked at Larabee-the man would know something was amiss.
Larabee started the meeting. "We put the time to good use and been trying to pool together what we know of the Yakuza."
Josiah began speaking next. "I know a little off the top of my head from spending time in Asia." Sanchez swiveled his chair so he was facing the whole team. "Boryokudan are commonly called the Yakuza; originally they were the bakuto or gamblers." Sanchez rested his hand on his forehead as if to pull more knowledge from his mind. "Yakuza comes from a card game called hanafuda, like blackjack. Funny thing, it's the losing hand 8-9-3 or ya-ku-sa."
Ezra kept his pen poised over his notebook. Slowly, he twisted the pen and put it down. Standish found the information interesting from a historical perspective, but knew the team needed current information. He interrupted the large agent. "The FBI has an Asian organized crime division," he announced, trying to recall some pertinent information from his Bureau days. "They are involved in money laundering, extortion and from what I've heard they have obscene profit margins. The Yakuza also have significant political clout."
JD, sitting next to Buck was furiously taking notes. "How come the FBI is involved?"
Ezra smiled, the young agent had asked a good question. "The FBI has maintained posts in American embassies known as legal attaché offices. These offices enable the FBI to receive a constant and prompt exchange of criminal data and other related information."
Buck reclined back in his chair and hissed, "Damn, those Fibbies are slimy." Wilmington gave the undercover agent a lazy smile. "No offense, Ez."
Ezra had half forgotten his days at the Bureau. They had been filled with negativity; with the ATF he was respected and amongst friends. "None taken," Standish mumbled as he directed his attention to Tanner who was relentlessly tapping a Bic pen against his teeth.
The noise caught the attention of Chris, who was looking at the sharpshooter intently. "Anything to add Vin?"
"Umm…what do I know? What do I know?" He cleared his throat as if trying to cover up that he just said his thoughts out loud. "There are these gangs called…" Vin tapped the blue pen against the table. Ezra glared at Vin, willing him to stop. " Bosozuku - speed tribes in Japan." Tanner giggled at the name of the gang. "They're delinquents, some of them end up being Yakuza." Ezra noticed the others were staring at Vin's mannerisms. Tanner must have felt the scrutiny also as he mumbled, "There are also some tough Asian gangs in Purgatorio."
Chris cleared his throat and turned his attention away from Tanner. "So you guys know this is big. This should be passed over to the FBI, but I 'd like to think the ATF can handle it." He looked at each of his men, Ezra noticed he skipped over Tanner. "Are we agreed?"
Standish looked at the other team members. He wanted to leave the FBI out of this, that way there would be less people that could possibly uncover what had happened in the warehouse. The team nodded in agreement.
"Hell, Chris, you know we don't like those other sh**ty acronyms." Buck chuckled, smoothing the edges of his mustache.
"We need to keep it quiet. I want to check with some Australian friends. We'll talk about it tomorrow and see if Ikeda makes contact." Chris closed his folder, which signaled the end of the meeting.
Ezra let his shoulders slump in relief. They had gotten through the meeting. He almost thought they would get away until he heard Chris reach the door and say,
"Vin, in my office."
Standish sat back in his chair and met the blue eyes that were staring at him from across the table.