Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven is owned by MGM. Without A Trace is owned by Jerry Bruckheimer Television and CBS Productions. No profit made. Only respect intended.
Notes: Special thanks go to Dusty and Julie for their beta work.
*************** Chapter One ***************
"This is some of the latest photo enhancement software," explained Agent James Mackeroy. Mack, as he insisted JD call him, had been going on for about half an hour explaining all the various technical equipment the FBI used to help solve crimes that fell within their purview. Not that JD minded; he loved this sort of stuff. It was interesting to see how another federal agency approached an investigation. He even got the chance to compare who had the better equipment, which so far was pretty even.
While he enjoyed the tour, JD was well aware that he was being granted far more access than the average visiting ATF agent. Ever since he'd walked into the Manhattan FBI offices it had been made obvious that they were hoping to woo him away from the ATF. It might have been tempting if he hadn't belonged to Team Seven, but JD and the men he worked with had become a family over the past year. There simply weren't enough tech gadgets in the world to lure him away from the Seven.
"Hey, Mack," an older stocky, dark haired Agent entered the room. "I've got some possible footage for the Palof case that I need you to go through."
"Right away, sir," Mack quickly returned to business. He was already starting to work on the new data when he remembered the niceties of an introduction. "JD, this is Jack Malone, he runs the Missing Persons Unit. JD is with the ATF, here for some training on the new explosive chemicals database."
Jack nodded to the newcomer, glancing around for his escort. "No offense, but I'm surprised they're letting an ATF agent roam the building unescorted."
"Agent Gilbert as been checking up on me every so often, but I pretty sure she's under orders to give me free rein. It's all part of a much larger plot to seduce me to the 'dark side of the feds'," JD explained, straight faced.
Jack snorted involuntarily at JD's rather lame Star Wars joke. "Really? And how's that going so far?" Jack almost doubted that the kid was old enough to meet Bureau requirements. He must be one hell of a tech genius to be recruited so aggressively.
"Well, I've learned a few new things in the training, and touring through the different departments has been fun, but I'm not likely to be lured here by software. Chris has already given me carte blanche to design any program I want for the needs of our team," JD admitted.
"You get to design your own programs?" envy leaked into Mack's question.
"Design programs, run computer security, occasionally hack," said JD. "And Chris makes sure that I get trained on all the cutting edge technology so I can keep our team one step ahead of the criminals."
"So should I tell Agent Gilbert to give up on recruiting you for the tech department?" asked Mack.
"I said no to that position a year and a half ago. I don't know why they think I'd want it now." JD had to admit it seemed a waste of everyone's time.
"Sounds like you really like being a tech for the ATF," commented Jack. He tapped Mack on the shoulder and pointed at the computers, trying to get his own tech back on focus.
"That's just it," said JD. "Computers are my specialty, but I'm primarily a field agent. None of the other alphabet agencies were willing to offer me a field position. They all wanted to lock me in some office surrounded by computers." Realizing that he'd just described Mack's position he added, "No offense, man."
"None taken," replied Mack. "I like my office surrounded by computers."
Noticing the time, JD pulled out his cell. "I don't want to be in the way of the work you need to do, and my next class will start in another 15 minutes, so I might as well call Agent Gilbert to escort me out of here."
"I'll save you a repeat of the standard recruitment speech and have one of my agents walk you down," Jack offered. JD nodded in thanks, saying a quick goodbye to Mack before following Jack out of the room. "Excuse me Vivian," Jack addressed a shorter black woman talking to a tall slender Hispanic man. "I need to steal Danny for a minute. Danny would you escort JD to the training seminar going on down on the third floor."
"Sure thing, Jack," Danny stepped up and motioned towards the elevator. "Right this way." Danny had traveled three steps before he realized that JD wasn't following him. JD seemed frozen in place, staring just past Vivian's shoulder to another member of their team.
"Holy crap!" said JD.
"Excuse me," asked Jack, puzzled by the young agent's behavior.
JD looked back at Jack, opened his mouth as if to say something and then snapped it shut and marched past Vivian to the six foot, blue eyed agent in the bullpen. JD held out his hand. "Hi, I'm JD Dunne, ATF."
The man's eyes flickered past JD to Jack in question, but when he received only a shrug he returned the greeting. "Martin Fitzgerald, FBI."
"Do you have any family in Texas, maybe by the name of Tanner?" JD asked directly.
The question's topic momentarily caught him off guard, "As far as I know, no. No family in Texas, or any Tanners in the family tree. Why do you ask?"
"You are the spitting image of one of the guys on my team. Seriously, if you had longer hair, a five o'clock shadow and maybe 10 more pounds in muscle mass you would be Vin." JD circled around Martin as though trying to uncover the explanation for his appearance. Then a wicked gleam danced through JD's eyes. "Would it be okay if Agent Fitzgerald was the one to walk me down? There's someone else I'd really like him to meet."
Jack couldn't help but note the way JD was now bouncing with excitement. And here he'd been thinking Danny threw off a lot of restless energy. "Someone else?"
"Yeah, Josiah Sanchez is one of my other teammates. He's here training some of your agents on profiling techniques." JD smiled disarmingly, offering his most encouraging tone. "I know he'd get a kick out of talking to Martin. I just want to borrow him for a few minutes."
Jack suspected JD was planning a bit more than just a basic introduction, but as long as Martin didn't seem to mind, which by his shrug Jack assumed he didn't, things were quiet enough let them slip off for a few minutes. "Go ahead. Take Danny with you too. That way Gilbert can't complain that we were anything less then perfect hosts."
"Awesome," JD grinned infectiously. "Which way were we going again?" he asked Danny. The three agents walked down the hall, Danny and Martin bracketing their shorter ATF counterpart. Jack watched them for just a moment before turning back to Vivian and the case they were working.
"You want me to say, 'Howdy, Josiah,'" clarified Martin. Danny grinned as he listened to the young ATF agent's odd request.
"It will be great, trust me," JD persuaded.
"Howdy, Josiah." Who said 'Howdy' anymore? Wondered Martin.
"Exactly," JD encouraged, "and try to slouch or lean back when you say it?" When Martin complied awkwardly, JD shook his head. "Haven't you done any undercover work?" Danny snickered at Martin's irritated look. JD decided that he'd just have to make do with Martin the way he was. "Give me about ten seconds lead time before you follow me over." JD turned the corner to stroll calmly down the hallway towards a large, salt and pepper haired man in his late fourties. He stopped on the far side of the man so that Josiah's attention would be drawn away from Martin and Danny.
When the ten seconds had expired, Martin approached the two with Danny on his heels. Closing he started to catch bits of their conversation. JD seemed to be doing most of the talking while Josiah offered the occasional grunt as he scribbled notes in his folder and sipped from his travel mug.
" . . . But meeting the head of their Missing Persons bureau was totally cool. And you'll never guess the best part," challenged JD.
Josiah looked up at his young coworker, easily noting how excited JD was to share his big news. "So tell me, John Daniel, what was the best part of the Missing Persons bureau?" he asked before sipping more coffee.
"Howdy, Josiah," said Martin, three feet from the profiler.
Josiah spit out coffee, coughing in shock. The stream of hot brew just missed JD, who agilely jumped aside. "Josiah, meet Martin Fitzgerald, FBI," introduced JD.
"Lord help us, there's two of them!" Josiah rose to his full height, setting his papers aside. He took Martin's hand in a firm grip, pumping it three times. His eyes latched on to Martin in an unnerving stare. "I've heard of people running across look-a-likes before, but this resemblance is beyond astounding. May I ask what your birth date is?"
Martin was becoming more and more intrigued by the reactions of the mysterious Vin Tanner's team members. Not seeing any harm in Josiah's question he shared, "I was born on July 7th, thirty-two years ago."
"No way," exclaimed JD. "That's Vin's birthday, too. You two must be twins separated at birth or something."
"Something indeed," agreed Josiah. "Your appearance combined with your identical birth dates does seem to stretch the limits of coincidence."
"Well, maybe we should pull Agent Tanner's file and see for ourselves how alike they look." Danny's curiosity had also been sparked by Josiah's reaction. Now he wondered if there was more than just coincidence at work here, and he could tell Martin was wondering the same thing.
Martin's cell phone rang. "Fitzgerald," he greeted. Listening for a moment, he glanced at Danny to signal the call was work related. "Okay, we'll be there in five minutes." Snapping the cell closed Martin updated Danny, "Palof's brother just came in. Jack wants us to run the interview." Looking to JD and Josiah he suggested, "Maybe we'll see you again before your training classes are done."
"Definitely," said JD. "I really need someone to show me the best places for a night on the town. Josiah's idea of a fun night out is visiting the local houses of worship to debate religion and philosophy with leaders of the faithful."
"There's nothing wrong," insisted Josiah, "with taking some time to answer the big questions."
"Unless you're in 'the city that never sleeps' for the first time in your life," protested JD. "Do you guys see what I have to put up with?" Martin grinned, Danny smirked and Josiah shook his head at the foolishness of youth.
"Have you got a number we can reach you at?" asked Danny.
"Yeah, right here." JD pulled out his wallet and produced a small business card.
Danny did a double take as he accepted the card. The black cardstock had red type and orange decorative scrollwork. "JD Devious, Hacker Extraordinaire, (303)-555-0299." Danny read. "What's this, a sideline to your day job?"
"Naw, that's just left over from an old undercover," explained JD. "They turned out so cool I kept the extras. The number on them routes to my cell phone."
"Excellent. I'll call you later so we can make plans," promised Danny. He found himself studying Martin as they rode the elevator back up to the twelfth floor. "I'm trying to imagine you with long hair and I just can't do it," he teased. When Martin only shook his head distractedly, he asked, "Are you going to be able to keep your mind on the case with the . . ." how best to put this? "Tanner situation floating around?"
"Do I have a choice?" asked Martin. "The missing person's got to come first."
Danny and Martin sat in an interrogation room across a metal table from Mark Palof, younger brother of the missing Matthew Palof. Mark shared his brother's blonde hair and gangly build, but he seemed to lack salt of the Earth values Matthew was known to posses. Slouching in the interrogation chair Mark appeared more focused on biting his finger nails then finding his brother.
"I understand you were just recently released from prison, Mr. Palof," stated Danny.
"Yeah, so?" Mark challenged defensively.
"So I'm wondering where you've been staying since you got out," Danny prodded.
"I've been staying with my older brother Matthew," said Mark.
"And yet," Danny continued, "when your brother never came home last night, you couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. We wouldn't know your brother was missing if his boss hadn't reported his disappearance. Why is that, Mark?"
"I don't know," Mark quibbled. "I figured he's a big boy. He can take care of himself."
"And you didn't think it was the least bit strange that your dependable early to bed, early to rise brother would suddenly not come home; not bother to leave messages for anyone as to where he was going to be?" Martin asked disbelievingly.
"I'm not his babysitter. He doesn't have to have to check in with me," Mark sniped.
"Speaking of check-ins," Danny changed the topic. "You've only been out a week and a half and you've already missed your first check-in with your parole officer." Danny leaned forward and smiled conspiratorially, "I've got to tell you, Mark, that's not a very good way to start your new life of freedom."
"You think that I had something to do with Matt's disappearing just because I'm an ex-con. Where do you get off accusing me?" demanded Mark. "I did my time, paid my debt to society. Hell, I never even hurt anyone."
"You hacked into a small savings and loan computer system and rerouted millions of dollars. Money from almost 1,300 families, that accounted for retirement savings and house payments. Some of those families are still trying to recover financially." Martin reminded the man of his sins. "That sounds pretty hurtful to me."
"Those people . . . they were just numbers on a computer screen, they didn't mean anything to me. Not like Matthew. When things went bad, he stood by me. Never condoned what I'd done, but he visited me in jail and gave me a place to live when I got out. I'd never hurt him." Mark insisted.
"Then maybe you should think about ways you could help us find your brother instead of wasting time," pressured Danny.
"How? I told you I don't know where he is," protested Mark.
"Is there anyone that's been causing problems for your brother; anyone that has a reason to hold a grudge?" asked Martin.
"Matthew is the original nice guy. No one has reason to hold a grudge against him," said Mark. "Even if someone was causing problems, I haven't been out long enough to know about it. His girlfriend's the one you should be asking."
"Actually, we already have someone talking to her," informed Martin.
A light flashed on the wall phone and Danny got up to answer it while Martin continued to write notes. Danny listened in silence for several seconds. Then he hung up and moved back to the table. "What about you?" asked Danny. "Is there anyone you've been hanging around with that would have reason to cause problems for Matthew?"
"I've been avoiding all the other ex-cons just like I'm supposed to," Mark reported dutifully.
"The same way you've been avoiding your parole officer?" Danny tossed back sarcastically.
"I told you I didn't have anything to do with my brother's disappearance," reminded Mark.
"And I asked you if you knew anyone else who did," returned Danny persistently. The suspect turned away, while Martin glanced at his partner and wondered what he'd heard on the phone that caused him to amp up the interrogation. The look in Danny's eye told him he was about to find out. "Tell me, Mark," said Danny, "Would it surprise you to hear that we found Matthew's car?"
"Does that mean you know what happened to my brother?" Mark queried nervously.
"No," admitted Danny, "but the blood we found on the front seat, indicates that whatever happened, it wasn't good."
For the first time Mark looked concerned for the welfare of someone other than himself. "If he's hurt, you've got to do something to find him!"
"What do you think we're doing, Mr. Palof?" Martin's words seemed to remind Mark where he was.
"See here's our problem," started Danny. "Your brother wasn't carjacked because his vehicle would have been sold or sent to a chop shop by now. He wasn't robbed because the police found both his wallet and his cell. We can even rule out any relation to his work since his briefcase was also left in the car untouched. He was apparently the target of a kidnapping despite the fact that he's a middle class worker with little disposable wealth. The only tie Matthew has to any sort of criminal activity is you."
"I didn't hurt my brother!" shouted Mark.
"Then tell us who did," demanded Danny.
"I want a lawyer," declared Mark.
"I thought you wanted to help us find your brother," Martin attempted to salvage the interview.
"You either get me a lawyer or you let me go, because I, I'm not going to sit here and let you accuse me any longer." Mark tried to play the part of the wounded innocent, but his manner better fit a guilty teenager.
"Wait right here, Mr. Palof," instructed Danny. He and Martin left the room, meeting Jack on the other side of the observation window.
"He's lying," declared Danny.
"You think he did something to his brother?" asked Jack. Even through he'd been observing through the one-way mirror he still wanted to hear Danny and Martin's impressions of the suspect.
"I think he knows exactly who took his brother and why. He had no problem saying he didn't do anything, but every time we asked him if he knew who did, he became evasive." Danny leaned back against the wall and folded his arms as he detailed Mark's behavior.
"But Mark was surprised when he heard about the blood in the car." Martin pointed out. "Maybe Matthew wasn't supposed to be hurt."
"Okay," Jack shifted as he started to theorize. "Let's assume that Mark gets out of jail and immediately goes back to his old tricks. Somehow Matthew finds out and threatens to blow the whistle."
"Right," agrees Danny, "Only Mark's partners don't like that idea so they snatch Matthew before he can say anything."
"But Matthew puts up more of a fight than they expected," guessed Martin, "hence the blood. Speaking of which, how much blood did they find in the car?"
"According to the M.E. on the scene, it wasn't enough to be immediately fatal, but definitely enough to require medical treatment. The longer it takes to find him, the greater the chance of infection." Jack knew the information he was imparting put more pressure on everyone to find Matthew Palof as soon as possible.
"That's if whoever took Matthew hasn't already killed him so they can't be identified later." Martin felt he had to point out the grim possibility.
Jack frowned and then shook his head. "Mark seems to at least care about his brother; he's not likely to cooperate with someone who killed Matthew. Let's continue to work the case as an injured-but-alive missing person. Since Mark has lawyered up, spring him. Have him followed, trace his calls, hopefully he'll lead us to Matthew and the kidnappers."