Marked Man

Part 3

Vin kept looking behind him as he walked in the shadows of the alley. It had taken a lot of favors, phone calls, and the ability to elude the team in general, although Chris seemed to know he needed to go off for a bit to find some answers.

Then it all came together with a phone call to the Israeli Embassy asking to make contact with David, a former operative he had worked with while Vin was in the military. Malak al-Maut, the Angel of Death had somehow survived and wanted him dead. Malak al-Maut had succeeded in getting to Robert, a GROM operative that had worked with the mission with both him and David.

David had sent word through military channels to Vin, but was relieved to hear from the sharpshooter. Vin Tanner was worth an exuberant one million dollars as was David and someone had collected on Robert.

"It was a confirmed kill," Vin said into the phone.

"It was days later. . ." was David's explanation to how the mistake could have been made.

Knowing the truth made him mind-blowingly aware of everything-the twisting of his gut, the eyes that seemed to follow him, the guilt that weighed on his shoulders and the responsibility of having to tell the truth to his friends. He hadn't had that nightmare in a long time and foolishly he believed he finally buried it. That night in the desert. . .

Vin had been loaned out to the Israeli military as had Robert for what had been termed special training, but what was really a mission to take out a man responsible for creating biological warfare. It wasn't just going to Hussein, but forces in Chechnya and the Congo, too. They had tracked Malak al-Maut, given the name Angel of Death by those he knew him as an honor, and tried to asses where to take him out with minimal damage. It had been a tough decision for the trio, but in the end Vin sat, his short brown hair wrapped in a turban, with his desert fatigues. His teammates nearby, like they had trained, difficult to discern. It was getting cold and he shivered. This would be the end. They had followed the shadowy figure of Malak al-Maut to a remote cabin in an area on the edge of Syria, Jordan and Iraq. Vin had no idea which country he was in- he doubted the others would, but they had to stop Malak al-Maut. Vin looked through his scope seeing 1600 feet away.

Malak al-Maut had never been alone until now. He was always carefully guarded, traveling with an entourage in crowded areas that would draw too much attention. Intelligence had provided information on a known residence, and it seemed the best place for the operation to take place. Heat sensors had reported two others in the building. They would all be dealt with. There would be no other support for them- they would get back to a safe area through Jordan. The lights were still dim in the cabin. Vin's night vision was allowing him to see as clear as he could. He fired. He heard the others fire, too with Robert sending off a rocket launcher to completely destroy the evidence.

By the time they exited and made it Israel to be debriefed they had learned that three bodies had been found- a man, a woman and a child.

Vin made his way back to the Jeep, rolling his shoulders to feel the comfort of the holster on his back. He had been the party to destroying a family and the man wanted justified revenge years later. Tanner needed some sleep and went to the only place that maybe he could feel a little safe.

When JD came into the office he noticed there was no way that Vin could hide the fact that he had slept there. Coming out of the bathroom wearing sweats he kept in the locker were a dead giveaway.

"Nice to see you in one piece, Junior," Buck commented as patted the longhaired agent on the back.

The sharpshooter shrugged. "Gonna have to talk to everyone when they come in. You have time this morning?" Vin nodded to JD, too.

Wilmington rolled his eyes as if to ponder the situation. "For you, I can clear my schedule."

"In about half an hour give or take the extra time it takes for Ez to come in," Tanner said as he placed the toothbrush back in his draw. He slowly shut it as if enjoying every aspect of being in the office. "Chris says we can use the conference room."

Dunne looked at his watch. "Ezra will have to take that extra time."

Chris was already in his office with the door uncharacteristically shut. Josiah was already at his desk, checking Nathan's voicemail while he was recuperating.

Vin sat down to do some paperwork, seemingly engrossed in the sheaves, but JD knew he wasn't really concentrating on that.

JD looked at his roommate and mouthed, 'What's going on?'

Buck gestured to go back to his desk. "Chris figures this has something to do with Vin's bounty hunting days." Wilmington quickly glanced at Tanner, a glint of pity passed through his eyes. "But, me- I think it's more than that. Maybe black ops related."

JD felt the surge of excitement as the room began to crackle with tension. He loved this cloak and dagger stuff. Secret lives, black ops made everything exhilarating and dangerous. It was like reading a Tom Clancy novel. The young agent was part of the inner sanctum. He sat at his desk and kept an eye on the elevator, waiting for Ezra to come in.

Thankfully he didn't have to wait long. Ezra had foregone his usual trip to Starbucks. Quietly, the team began to get up and go into the conference room. Vin came in second to last, with Chris shutting the door behind them.

JD sat on his hands as he waited for the story to be unfolded. It had been just yesterday when Josiah, Ezra, Chris and Vin had come back and told them about the contract. Dunne researched to see if he could discover any further information.

Tanner had looked a little shell-shocked. Truth be told Chris and Buck were grilling him, while Ezra was trying helpfully to jog his memory. JD then pushed him over the edge by exclaiming, "Holy shit! Vin you're worth a million bucks!"

The outburst had caused a death pall to come over the room. The sharpshooter's eyes had gotten wide and he walked out of the room. "Something I gotta do."

"Think we should stop him?" Josiah had taken a few hesitant steps forward.

Larabee shook his head. "For now it is private for him."

JD had no idea. He knew that some of the guys had this deep, secret past, but never knew the full extent. Buck would neither confirm nor deny any of JD's suspicions until today.

Vin began his story, tracing circles on the wood counter with his fingertips as he spoke in short clipped sentences. His monotone recollection sounded like a report. In his mind Dunne, tried to envision the vistas of the desert, picturing Tanner to be a pseudo Lawrence of Arabia. Unfortunately, JD could not refrain from taking a sharp intake of breath when Vin finished the tale.

"We neutralized the target. Confirmation later told us it was a man, woman and child." Vin stopped tracing patterns on the wood. "Current reports say Malak al-Maut is alive. He already got to one of the operatives involved."

JD turned his head to his roommate who had shifted his gaze to the leader. Chris sat frozen in his chair, gripping the armrest for a moment before standing up and heading to the window, his back to the team.

Wilmington started to get up to talk to his friend, but Sanchez caught his eye and gestured with his hand to stay put. JD saw it all with clarity before him. Buck's past with Chris.

Tanner folded his hands in front of him, looking like a man accepting his fate. "Ever wonder why I'm good at my job?" The longhaired agent didn't wait for an answer. "'Cause I treat it like a job with no regrets, but that doesn't mean I don't think of the consequences. Shit like this is bound to happen. I ain't afraid to die. . ."

Buck slammed his hand on the table. JD was startled. "I hate it when you all talk like this. I am afraid. Don't plan on dying today or anytime too soon."

Vin leaned forward, his hands on the table firm and stubborn. "That's what I'm saying. I don't want you boys caught up in this. This is about me and me only."

"Agent Tanner…" Ezra protested. The sharpshooter waved off the comment.

"I know you guys are a bunch of cocky bastards. But, I'm serious. Nate, JD and Buck are hurt because of me." Tanner stood up and pushed his chair in. "We need to put some distance between us."

Standish grabbed his arm as he walked by, "And what makes you think they won't go after your friends and exploit them as a weakness." Tanner shook off the hand. "Or you can continue to believe that the people coming after you are inept."

"Sit down, Vin. Let's figure this out," Josiah said calmly.

Vin stopped and closed his eyes, opening them and looking at JD. The young agent nodded. The sharpshooter gave a twisted smile. Dunne knew it was too late. Tanner was leaving.

"Sit down, Tanner," Chris said, his face void of emotion, mirrored in the glass of the tall windows. JD shivered at the coldness.

Buck followed Chris back to his office and closed the door as they both entered. Larabee slid into his chair.

"Lotta shit going on in my head, Buck." Chris glared at his friend and the lines around his mouth tightened. "I gotta deal with Travis. . ."

Wilmington crossed his arms defiantly and sat down in the chair across from Larabee. Chris bowed his head and began to do some paperwork, figuring by ignoring Buck he would leave.

Instead, the mustached agent made himself comfortable, putting his feet up on the desk. Buck didn't have to wait long for the leader to erupt. He pulled the middle desk drawer open then slammed it so hard the jolt pushed Buck's feet off the desk.

"Jesus, the man could be me. It is me. I lost a wife and son and if I knew who to retaliate against then I would." Larabee looked up at the bullpen, then quickly turned his attention back to Wilmington.

"I was there Chris, but this isn't the same and you aren't this man." Buck pulled his chair closer to the desk. He willed his friend to let his anger go and tried to reason with him. "You heard. They took out all the targets- they didn't know who else was there and they didn't want to take him out in a crowded area either."

Chris stood up, planting his hands on the solid oak before him. "That's right he was only supposed to leave a boy fatherless and a wife a widow."

"What? This is not your life. You're not that Malamut guy." Chris was stone-faced. "You know what? Everyone is fucked and then we die." Buck stood up and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. He swallowed, allowing him time to tone down his voice. "There's a team out there looking for a leader."

Chris looked away and Buck shook his head. He felt his hand tighten on the knob. He had to try one more time. There was too much on the line, too many demons being brought back to life.

"He was a kid. He followed orders to get rid of a bad guy." Wilmington still had his back turned. "Chris, he's a good man." The mustached agent turned and relaxed against the door. He looked down, praying Sarah hadn't died, Vin hadn't killed that family and things could be different and yet the same. "What more do you want?" Buck closed his eyes, opening to see his friend was listening. "Blood? Well you'll have it—if he gets his way."

Chris wiped his hand down his face; the mannerism did nothing to remove the tenseness that had settled on the leader. "He shattered someone's life and you know what, Buck? The pieces don't fit the same afterward."

Buck felt his throat constrict and his voice carried a hoarseness of the sadness he felt remembering the dark days and the lost friendship. "I was there, Chris. I loved Sarah and Adam, too. I miss them." Wilmington opened the door a crack and let his hand rest against the trim. "If Vin goes down, can you live with that? He's a marked man."

It was his fault. He wasn't being vain. All Vin wanted to do was hit something, throw anything and scream at the unfairness of it all. Instead all he could was quietly look for his pen. Tanner quelled the need to slam the draws in frustration. The sharpshooter already had the team's attention and it would be hard to drift into the background where he was comfortable. He had pulled the desk draw out all the way ready to rip it out and spill the contents for the stupid Bic pen.

"Vin," Josiah stated. "You need some help there, Brother?" Sanchez placed a hand underneath the desk draw before it hit the floor. Josiah placed it back on track.

"What?" Vin snapped, distractedly. Catching the larger agent's softening and pitying eyes Tanner settled on a pen, not the one he was looking for, but he didn't care anymore. He closed the draw quietly. "Sorry Josiah, you wanted something?"

Sanchez stood up. "No, no, just telling you I'm here if you need to talk."

Vin settled back in his chair and shook his head. "I need to talk Josiah, but not now . . ." These men were already involved, already knew more than he was willing to tell them about his past soon Chechnya and Serbia would be on the table. What was in the past remained in the past with no regrets.

Josiah gestured to the break room. "Come and join me for a cup of coffee."

The sharpshooter shrugged his shoulders in a noncommittal manner. The large agent began to walk off. Tanner looked at his desk and realized he wasn't going to get much accomplished today, so maybe a cup of coffee would be a good distraction.

"You didn't touch my brew did you?" Vin announced as he turned the corner into the side room. Josiah was there already as was Ezra.

Standish was leaning against the kitchenette and glanced over to the coffee maker. "No, I believe it is still attacking the glass carafe."

Vin smiled and poured himself a cup. He stayed near Ezra, watching Josiah flip through the paper left behind on the table.

Ezra picked up the carafe and swirled the dark brew. "If your coffee disintegrates this machine perhaps my dream of an espresso machine may come true."

Tanner took a sip of his coffee. He thought about responding to the southerner, but knew he was not in the mood for their usual banter. Vin took the mug and dumped out the remaining liquid in the sink. "I told y'all I don't want to talk. Ya know what's going on-can see it plain as day." He turned the water on to wash out the cup and wash away the brown liquid.

Josiah had folded up the newspaper. "Chris doesn't hate you."

"He will." The sharpshooter dried his mug with a paper towel. "The more he thinks about, the more questions he'll have, the more dark memories. . ." Vin let his words trail off omitting the ultimate conclusion- until I'm dead.

"I realize you feel as though you can read our leader's mind, but perhaps your conclusion is incorrect," Ezra said as he opened and then closed the refrigerator.

Vin turned around and shrugged his shoulders. He knew what he felt in his heart and in his head.

Standish walked away from the refrigerator and filled a plastic cup with water from the water cooler. "I would like to open my humble abode to you."

Vin crossed his arms and shook his head. "Ez, I know I said I'd go along with your plan, but I'm not liking the idea of everyone risking their asses for me."

Josiah stood up and tossed the newspaper in the recycling bin. "I think we can decide that Vin, you just have to decide to accept a little help." Sanchez placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

Tanner nodded in acceptance. Maybe he was too tired and too weak to tell them all to go to hell and take care of it himself. Maybe it was fear that everything was coming to an end and he did not want to be alone.

Josiah didn't call first. He only hoped Chris hesitated before shooting a surprise visitor to the ranch. Luckily, Sanchez made enough noise as his Suburban crunched along the gravel driveway. Josiah waited for the Chevy to settle before stepping out and heading to the front door. It swung open as he made it to the first step.

"What brings you here, Josiah?" The large man noticed Chris's revolver slack by his side. Larabee held the door open. Sanchez wiped his feet and walked into the home.

The TV was on and Chris went back to his recliner, placing the gun on the coffee table. Josiah took a seat on the couch. "Taking a leisurely drive to clear my mind."

The leader kept his eyes on the television, paying attention to the basketball game. "I told you that Travis cleared our slates for two weeks to figure this out."

Josiah pretended to have some interest in the game. "Vin's spending the night at Ezra's." He said matter-of-factly. Chris didn't respond. Sanchez stretched his large frame. "Kinda strange you weren't the first to offer."

Larabee glanced over to his guest, then returned his focus to the ending period. "Well, that would be usual and we need to stir things up."

The larger agent nodded, knowing this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. "True." He looked around the room and decided to get something to drink in the kitchen. He found a bottle of beer and twisted the cap over the sink, noticing the spider plant was still healthy. Josiah took a long draw before going headlong into the created mess. "Chris, I'm going to play devil's advocate." He continued without pause. "Vin gets killed. How are you going to feel about that? Part of you has to feel relieved?"

Chris stood up, shocked at what his friend had just said. "What the fuck do you mean
that?"

Sanchez walked back into the living room, the beer clenched in his hand. "Or if after two weeks we can't find the man responsible? He has to be cut from the team." Josiah smiled. "You don't have to face him."

In three steps Chris met Josiah in the middle of the room. "That's enough." He growled, his face paled from the anger he felt.

Sanchez knew once he started, there would be no turning back. He felt the need to interfere and bring to light the secrets and shadows festering in the dark. Vin and Chris had to see the chasm between them would only grow, bring them and the team to ruination. "Better yet! We find the man, everything turns out okay and then that leaves you where?" Josiah calmly relaxed on the couch again and took another sip of the beer.

Larabee walked away, picked up the glass on the coffee table and threw it at the wall. "What the hell do you want from me?" Chris flopped back down on his recliner.

Sanchez stood up and shut the TV off. "I know what you're thinking Chris. You're human after all and I'm just saying try not to feed the darkness."

Chris placed a hand on his forehead and bowed his head. "Josiah, it may be too late. . ."

TBC