Anticipaiton

by Brandgwen

Disclaimer: Profiler is the property of NBC and Sander/Moses. The Magnificent Seven is the property of Watson/Densham and CBS. The ATF universe belongs to Mog. I'm not making any money, I'm not worth suing.

Had you passed the warehouse, you probably wouldn't have noticed it. That's half the reason it was used; neither large nor small, located with many others like it and deep enough into an industrial area that no one would notice the strange men who passed through. What more could a importer of illegal merchandise ask? The warehouse had seen a million crimes take place. It had witnessed the passage of stolen goods and guns, it had seen assault and murder, there had even been an arson attempt. Tonight it was to have been the sale of narcotics to a major dealer. Instead, what would take place was something new... tonight there would be some semblance of justice.

As he waited in a northerly warehouse, Agent Chris Larabee remembered the message he had received informing him of the sale. L, Merry Christmas. Early, I realise, but I'm certain you'll appreciate your gift..., S. After a month of working the fringes of the import business, his group's undercover specialist had been invited to one of the biggest deals Larabee had ever heard of. Say what you want about the man, Ezra Standish was a damn good agent. The information he had supplied - names, dates, places - would soon see the downfall of a major illegal import concern and one of its best customers. A very merry Christmas, even if it was July.

Assembled in the warehouse with Larabee was half of a fifty man raiding party. The group were mixed bag of ATF, FBI and Denver PD officers. A lot of people had an interest in seeing this bust go well. The FBI, in particular, had been after the drug dealer for years. He was a cagey type, no agent had managed to get close to him and a few had even died trying. Chris couldn't help being a little smug that his agent had gotten in.

Next to Larabee, a young agent fidgeted, checking over his weaponry for the hundredth time, making sure it was loaded. Chris frowned. Tanner was not usually one to get nervous. A sharpshooter, he could sit for hours, waiting for the shot. Tonight, something was bothering him.

"You right there, Cowboy?"

Tanner shot his boss a dirty look, then chose to ignore the name they teased each other with. "I'll be better once we get going," he replied, in a soft, but urgent voice. "What the hell is taking so long?"

Larabee shrugged. The deal was being monitored, via a wire Standish wore, by two of Larabee's agents in a nearby van. When it was time, they would contact the raiding parties by radio and give the signal to move. Until then, the agents were stuck with no idea of what was going on.

"Ezra knows what he's doing. Besides, if anything went wrong, Josiah and Nate would get us in there in no time."

Chris wasn't telling his friend anything he didn't already know. No news was good news. Vin just had this awful feeling about the raid. Everything had gone a little too well. The group were ready for some bad luck and Vin didn't want anyone, especially Ezra, in so vulnerable a position when that bad luck showed.

"Just radio the van, will ya? See what's happening."

Larabee shook his head. "Radio silence until we're told to move. You know that."

Vin made a face. He did know that. Maybe he just wanted the raid cancelled, wanted everyone to go home, while they still had their skins in tact. The former bounty hunter shook this idea off. Just another bust, Vin, it'll be fine.

Vin didn't usually ignore his intuitions. He had an uncanny way of knowing the direction a situation was taking. It had proved very useful to him in the past. Vin had grown up around the rougher parts of society. Even now, his apartment was in the most notorious gang area in Denver. While on his own, Vin had allowed himself to be guided completely by his sixth sense and it had kept him alive and sane. As a law enforcement officer, Tanner conceded, a person needed a better excuse that it feels wrong to call something off.

Had Ezra been there, it would have been different. Somehow, the sneaky, double-dealing undercover seemed to have acquired the same talent as Tanner. He could see through people like they were water, yet remained as impenetrable as a brick wall, himself. Vin could conceive that maybe he was wrong about this foreboding, but, had Ezra felt the same thing, Vin would've known he was right. Without that backup, Vin could only sit and wait. Absently, he checked his guns for the one hundred and first time.

JD refused to sit still. This was the part he lived for. Not that the young agent was trigger happy; on the contrary, he had been with the ATF for a couple of years, now, and had seen how dangerous these situations could be, should something go wrong. JD was an idealist and the raid was when he saw his efforts make a difference. The research was tolerable and the detective work occasionally fun, but going in there and arresting the bad guys was what the job was all about.

JD had been assigned to the raiding team concealed the southern warehouse. The idea was that, once the signal was given, the two teams would enter the target building from both the north and south doors, trapping their quarry in the middle. Agents would remain outside, to take any sentries posted and ensure no one from the warehouse slipped out, but chances of escaping the pincer action from two such large teams were small. It was a very good plan.

Buck Wilmington, JD's best friend, was leading the second team. It made him nervous, to say the least. He sat, silent, by the radio, listening for the signal. He was terrified he would miss it and ruin all the hours of work that had gone into the bust. Hell, if things didn't move like clockwork, someone could get killed. Tension flooded through Buck's body. Why had Chris assigned him leader? Why not Josiah or Nathan? All Buck wanted to do was tease JD about his excessive enthusiasm and laugh with the other agents about the kid's stupid hat. JD. Knowing my luck he'd be the one got killed... hey, was that the signal? Buck quietly laughed at himself. He was jumping at every crackle of static.

"What's so funny, Buck?"

"Nothin', Kid. Except, of course, you looking like it's your birthday and someone just handed you a million dollars," Buck had to relax and teasing his young friend was a sure-fire way of doing it.

"It's better that sittin' there, looking like someone just shot your dog," countered JD.

"Well, you know, when someone gives you responsibility, you gotta take it real serious. You'll find out, when you grow up."

JD scowled, but it was half-hearted. Buck's teasing got on his nerves, but his silence was worse. At least the teasing was normal. "Why should I wait 'till I grow up? You didn't."

Buck laughed and took a swipe at the kid, who ducked away, escaping by an inch. Normally, Wilmington would have continued the chase, but tonight, his nerves somewhat steadied, he returned his attention to the radio.