"Yes I recall the case, Nathan," Ezra confirmed. "When it was clear that the weapons supply had dried up and we weren't going to be able to get any more evidence, Mr. Larabee opted to put the investigation on hold while preserving our covers."
"Well, according to JD, those covers are worthless now," warned Nathan.
"True," agreed Ezra, not really regretting the loss of the small time gun dealer whose role he'd played for a while. "But the real question is, who is the Federal Agent that so callously threw young mister Dunne into the fire pit? As I recall, there were a plethora of FBI and DEA agents involved in the Eagle Bend Task force. Narrowing down the suspect list to determine our culprit won't be easy, and I doubt either of our sister agencies will appreciate our investigation into the ethical fiber of their agents. Was Mister Dunne able to offer us any further clues?"
"He couldn't remember the agent's name," said Nathan. "It's possible that he might remember more the next time he wakes up. Honestly, he barely got out that an agent was involved before he lost consciousness again. We're lucky we have as much information as we do considering how badly he was hurt. Hopefully he'll remember more later. Until then Buck and I will stay on protective duty; make sure none of these scumbags get the chance to finish what they started."
"Well, I can at least assist you by sending you the surveillance photos we gathered while trying to entrap Misters Hunter and Lyshe. Mr. Larabee will soon receive a text of the address where Hunter lived, at least as of three months ago. Mr. Sanchez and myself will investigate the agents involved in the Eagle Bend task force," Ezra summarized. He wanted to make sure he wasn't missing any angles. This case was too important, JD was too important.
At the desk next to Ezra, Josiah realized the conversation was coming to a close so he raised his voice to add, "Be sure to let brother JD know that he is in our thoughts and prayers."
Miles away in the hospital Nathan smiled at Josiah's command. "I'll do that," he promised before again turning solemn. "We need to find the Fed that's behind this. . ."
"And ensure he can never harm JD again," Ezra finished Nathan's thought.
"You need to keep an eye out yourself," warned Nathan. "Don't forget your cover was burned too."
Ezra had spent too many years under the tutelage of Maude not to have already considered the risk to his person. But with JD vulnerably unconscious at the hospital while Ezra was safely within the protection of the Federal Building, he really hadn't expected the others to waste too much concern on him. That Nathan thought enough to mention his worries reminded Ezra again how fortunate he was to be out of the FBI and on a team he could count on to watch his back. "Our understanding of what happened thus far indicates that JD's attack was an impulsive act of opportunity," Ezra pointed out, "which makes it far less likely that our perpetrators will seek out another confrontation, even if they did know where I was."
"That may be," conceded Nathan, "But it won't hurt anything if you stick close to Josiah until we've got these guys."
"Your concern is noted," said Ezra, "I promise to be appropriately diligent regarding my self preservation." Noticing a flashing light on his phone consol he explained, "I've got another call coming in. I'll inform you if we develop any new leads." It took just seconds to transfer to the new call. "Agent Standish speaking," Ezra greeted.
"Agent Standish, this is Joshua with Brinks security. We have a silent alarm going off at your home residence and we wanted to verify that everything is all right."
"No everything is not all right," Ezra informed the security person, a small corner of his mind wondering if perhaps Nathan was psychic. "We need to dispatch police immediately. They should approach the condo with extreme caution. One of my coworkers was brutally attacked less than twenty-four hours ago and I do not believe in coincidence." Minutes passed as Ezra and the responding officers relayed information back and forth through Joshua. The officers arrived at Ezra's condo four minutes after the silent alarm went off, but the residence was empty. Only an open door, a forgotten wallet holding Lyshe's ID, and a partially smoked cigarette indicated the violation of Ezra's sanctuary. He was ending the call with the Bricks security man and considering an upgrade to security cameras when he heard Josiah say his name.
"You can rest assured Chris," boomed Josiah, "our Ezra won't be able to go to the bathroom without me at his side. I'll protect him until the threat is over."
Ezra grimaced at the thought of Josiah smiling benevolently down at him from the next urinal over. He didn't like it when the others on his team hovered, but with JD already injured he knew there would be no way to sway them, so he focused on gathering all the information available on the FBI and DEA agents involved in the Eagle Bend task force. The sooner they rooted out the traitorous agent behind JD's attack, the better it would be for everyone.
Vin and Chris stalked down the street with a determined aura and a predatory grace that had most of the slum's regular inhabitants scurrying for cover. Dangerous on a good day, no one wanted to mess with the obviously lethal strangers. Others might have relaxed, perhaps reined in the intensity level upon hearing that their youngest had woken and seemed on the road to recovery, but neither Vin nor Chris intended to ease their hunt until every threat to JD had been eliminated.
So it was that they found themselves climbing the crumbling steps to a spray painted brown stone apartment. Buck's update of JD's brief return to consciousness combined with Ezra's text lead them to what was hopefully the current address of one Trey Hunter. They were half way up to the second story apartment Hunter was supposed to rent when Chris's cell buzzed for his attention. Checking the caller ID, he paused in his climb to answer, "Larabee . . . Where? . . . We're just a few blocks away but we need to check an address first. Can you secure the site and call in the CSIs? . . Good." Turning to Vin, Chris murmured, "Got a response to the APB on JD's bike. It's in an alley behind a dumpster just two blocks from here."
"Think they came back home after they dumped the bike?" queried Vin as he pull out his service weapon.
"Only one way to find out," answered Chris likewise readying a weapon as a frightening grin swept his face. Chris led the way up the remainder of the stairs, down the hall to 204 where they flanked the entrance. Once Chris received a nod of readiness from Vin, he raised his fist to pound heavily on the door. "Trey Hunter, this is the ATF. Open up!" While rude demands for entrance were seldom met with cheery welcomes, the utter silence that answered from within the apartment was not what they were hoping for. When a repeated demand brought more silence Chris tested the doorknob. Surprised when it turned easily under his hand, the agent in black hesitated only the moment it took to signal to Vin before launching himself into the room. It took less than ten seconds to verify that the tiny apartment was vacant of anyone able to put up a fight. A quick glance verified that the bodies on the floor were Trey Hunter and his partner 'Slick' Lyshe. Relief that two of the treats to JD were gone was overwhelmed by the certainty that the sole remaining threat had become much more immediate. "You know what this means?" Chris's question was half statement.
From his position kneeling next to the bodies Vin nodded, "Our mystery Fed is cleaning house, eliminating any witnesses." After verifying neither body carried a pulse Vin stood. "JD's the only witness left." Having noted that the bodies were a bit cooler than expected he checked their rigidity. "Chris I'm pretty sure these bodies are already in rigor mortis. If I'm right that means they were dead before Ezra's condo was broken into. The wallet and cigarette were planted."
At first glance the scene indicated that Hunter and Lyshe had fought and killed each other but Chris's gut told him that the dirty fed helped their deaths along. Still he would need the CSIs and some solid forensic evidence to prove his theory right. "You call the bodies in. I'll get a hold of Buck and Nathan. They need to know what's heading their way," Chris was hitting speed dial before he'd finished speaking.
Casey gathered up her purse and care package before getting out of the car. Buck had called early this morning to let her know that JD had woken up and seemed to be pretty aware for at least a little while. The doctor was pleased with his progress and allowing visitors. Casey had been so eager to visit JD that she'd been showered and dressed a full hour and a half before visiting hours started. Aunt Nettie had slowed her down by reminding her that arriving early would only lead to a long wait. Then she'd suggested they make use of Casey's extra time by putting together a care package so JD would have something to keep him occupied during his hospital stay. Casey quickly thought of the gameboy that JD had forgotten in her car one afternoon. She gathered a new Sudoku book she hadn't gotten the chance to start yet and one of her western novels that JD had expressed an interest in. She even ran down to the corner market to pick up the latest issues of several magazines, believing that sports, science and computers were the most likely to hold his interest. Casey had been feeling pretty pleased with the selections she'd made for JD, at least until she saw Aunt Nettie's additions to the package. Nettie had wrapped a dozen of her blueberry-bran muffins that JD had praised a few weeks back and also included her award winning (it took 2nd place at the Colorado state fair a few years back) apple pie. Deciding that it just wasn't worth trying to compete with Nettie on the food front, Casey carefully packed all of the items into a tote bag and headed off to the hospital with just a few minutes to spare.
Taking a moment to recheck the instructions Buck had given her, comparing them to the hospital map on the board before her, Casey identified the correct elevator and headed off to find JD; determined to provide whatever he needed to recover; and hopefully in the process show JD that she had what it took to stick it out as the wife of federal agent. Many of Casey's friends thought she was crazy to even date JD, but the truth was Casey loved him; and despite all the nightmares she'd suffered through last night, even the ones when she'd woken in tears in her certainty that JD had died while she slept, Casey still wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. If JD wanted that too (and the young man's suggestion that the two of them buy a ranch once she was finished with college indicated he did), then she was going to fight for it. She'd be damned before she'd let her fears about her boyfriend's profession choose whom she would grow old with.
Nathan knocked forcefully against the hospital room's bathroom door hoping to hear a response over the spray of the shower.
Inside the too-small shower Buck bent his head to rinse out the last of the shampoo before poking his head out the shower curtain with a, "Yeah, what do you need?"
"I wanted to catch JD's doctor before he started rounds; now is likely the best chance I'll have to talk to him in the next few hours. The plainclothes officer that Denver PD sent over is just outside the door, so you can finish your shower. I just wanted you to know I'd be gone for a bit," Nathan explained. Now that JD's condition had been upgraded, Nathan wanted to hear the doctor's plans for the best way to transition JD to a home recovery. Despite all of the precautions they'd taken the hospital simply wasn't secure enough to protect someone with a target on their back like JD. So Nathan planned to push for the injured agent's release just as soon as it was medically feasible.
"Not a problem, Nathan," Buck assured. "You get everything squared away with Doc. I'll be done in a couple of minutes anyway." Hearing Nathan's farewell, Buck went back to his washing, pleased that the hot spray was helping to rinse away the cobwebs that had gathered in his mind during the long night's vigil. Hopefully a heaping helping of coffee with breakfast would be enough to keep him alert until some of the others could break away from the investigation long enough to relieve him. Buck wished he had a better idea of how the investigation was proceeding. Hell, he wanted to be out there right now, on the streets, running down leads and charming needed information out of the mouths of allies and enemies alike. But at the same time the agent knew that someone had to stay behind to protect JD and if the choice was whether to be in the middle of the hunt or safe guarding his friend, well then JD won hands down. Still, that didn't stop Buck from wishing that Chris or one of the others would call with some new (and preferably good) information. That thought was still working through the tall man's brain when he heard the refrain from Margarita Ville signal that Chris was trying to reach him on his cell phone. Cursing, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel, unsuccessfully trying to dry himself and step out of the shower simultaneously. Slipping on the tile floor, Buck's grip on the sink barely saved him from a rather undignified landing. Muttering, "Don't hang up, I'll be right there," to whoever was on the other end of the cell signal, he paused just long enough to secure the towel around his waist before pushing through the bathroom door.
DEA agent Michael Clayton was finally going to see an end to the totally FUBAR disaster that had taken control of his life for the last twenty-four hours. It started bad enough with a necessary meeting with a couple of lowlife scum that helped line his pockets. But when said scum had brought a third-party into the meeting; a decidedly dangerous and unwelcome third-party who just happened to be a member of the ATF's premier undercover unit, the day was effectively down the toilet. The recognition in Agent Dunne's eyes had been immediate so Clayton hadn't hesitated to expose the young man for the lying rat that he was. It had almost been worth it for the look of shock and betrayal that played across Dunne's face. Sure the agent had tried to deny Clayton's claims and even muddied the waters with a too-late counter accusation, but since Hunter and Lyshe already knew Clayton was a crooked Fed it did Dunne no good. A quick search of the junior agent's person had provided a badge and ID confirming Clayton's claims. It also told Clayton that Dunne hadn't expected to be working undercover; this was a random meeting which meant that Dunne had zero backup. Resisting his initial impulse to immediately kill the agent, Clayton decided to gather a little intel first. As they tied Dunne to the chair the agent had tried to talk them out of their planned course of action, reminding them that harming a federal agent was sure to bring down more heat than they could tolerate. But Clayton had assured his accomplices that no one would have any reason to connect them to the agent's disappearance once they properly disposed of the body.
The beating had started slow, with Clayton asking a question and Dunne refusing to give a satisfactory answer. But as blow after blow failed to bring the information Clayton required he started to get really pissed off. It wasn't like he wanted much; just what, if any, information the Seven had gathered on Hunter, Lyshe and their 'information' guy. Who did this kid think he was, sitting there so stoic under abuse, threatening with his silence to destroy everything that Clayton had built? Dunne acted as though it was inconceivable for a federal agent to use their knowledge and contacts to make money instead of serving the public. Everyone bent the rules to get what they wanted; Clayton was simply better at it than most. Yet the punishment he was doling out seemed to have no effect on Dunne's quiet resolve. Sure, the kid was giving him a few moans and whimpers but he still wasn't telling Clayton what he needed to know; he still refused to break to Clayton's will. Clayton's vindictive side decided that he would be doing the world a favor by getting rid of Dunne, because no one this naïvely idealistic deserved to live. Eventually the dirty agent stopped asking questions and enjoyed the rush of power that came with slowly, systematically beating another to death.
Unfortunately, his accomplices didn't have the stomach for it and pulled him away before he could finish the job; demanding to know how he planned to get rid of the body. It was then that Clayton decided his lowlife accomplices would also have to die. After all, they were the only ones that could tie him to Dunne, and he just knew that they were the type to try something stupid like blackmail later. No, it was better to clean house now, strike quickly before they saw it coming. Sadly there was one thing that Clayton didn't see coming. After the beating he'd delivered, Dunne should have been dead; instead the agent was not only conscious but able to escape his bonds and flee. By the time he and the others had heard noise on the stairs Dunne had too much of a lead. Hunter called just moments after they'd checked the alley to inform them that Dunne had been hit by an SUV, but it brought little relief. Not when somehow, miraculously, Dunne was still alive. Clayton was determined to make sure the miracle didn't last. He'd almost succeeded, too, by flashing Dunne's own badge (no reason to let anyone see his DEA version) and claiming the need to immediately arrest the dangerous criminal. This time it was the paramedics that foiled his plan; in particular the young one refused to let him remove Dunne from the scene without treatment. There was another idealist that Clayton would love to put a bullet in. Once the patrol car arrived Clayton chose to make himself scarce. After the beating Clayton had given him plus the hit from the SUV there was no way that Dunne would be in any condition to speak of what had happened.
Clayton could afford to wait to deal with Agent Dunne, but his accomplices were two loose ends that he couldn't leave hanging. Hunter and Lyshe had been pathetically easy to lure back to Hunter's place. A few pointed questions had revealed that while the two low level crooks had dealt mostly with Dunne they had also met his 'boss,' a southerner Clayton knew to be Ezra Standish. At that point it became easy to prioritize his hit list. First he killed Hunter and Lyshe, staging the scene to make it look like they had killed each other. The two poor fools never knew what hit them. He swung by Standish's place hoping to catch the undercover agent sleeping, but the condo was vacant. Planting some evidence he'd lifted from Hunter and Lyshe to blame them for the break in had only taken a few seconds. Next he would target Agent Dunne in the hospital before making another attempt on Standish. Clayton wondered if the nickname for Larabee's team would be changed from the Magnificent Seven to the Mediocre Five once Dunne and Standish were cold in their graves. The thought made the DEA agent smile.
A short nap and change later saw Clayton calling the hospital, under the guise of a journalist, to inquire about the federal agent hospitalized the night before. He was disappointed to hear that Dunne had survived the night. (Some people just didn't know when to die.) But soon Clayton was devising a new plan. A basic disguise of hair dye, throw away clothing and glasses; a lethally filled syringe, combined with a little bribe money for whoever was willing to make a distraction (and there was always someone willing to cause trouble for the right amount of cash) was all Clayton figured he needed besides timing. A quick walk through the emergency waiting room helped him locate a jonesing junky happy to do whatever for his next fix. Arriving at Dunne's medical ward was a bit disappointing. His contacts had warned him that part of ATF's Team Seven was staying in Dunne's room and Clayton could further see a patrol officer standing guard outside the door. He nursed his coffee for eight minutes before an opportunity presented itself. Dunne's coworker Jackson exited the protected room, spoke to the cop for a moment and then moved off down a side hall out of sight. Seizing the opening, Clayton signaled the junky that'd been waiting on a nearby couch with surprising patience. A smirk graced his face as the well-paid addict not only demanded the attention of the cop but also of an orderly and a security guard. It was almost too easy to approach Dunne's room. As he slipped through the door; syringe in hand, it was with supreme confidence that all his worries were about to end.
Inside the small care unit the lone patient lay unconscious on the room's only bed. The scene looked so perfect that Clayton was halfway across the room before he noticed the sound of running water coming from behind the door to the small corner bathroom. Realizing the water sounded like it was coming from a shower not a faucet he kept moving towards the vulnerable young agent. He didn't waste time wondering which of the Seven was showering in the bathroom. As long as luck stayed with him it would only take a few seconds to deal with Dunne and then Clayton would be out of there free and clear.
The blaring ringtone of Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville sounded a bit too much like fate laughing at him. The sound of the shower turning off followed by movement and muttering allowed only a split second for Clayton to decide whether to continue or flee. While the logical part of Clayton's mind pointed out that the risks were now far outweighing the benefits, it also recognized that sooner or later Dunne would likely wake up and reveal what he knew. On the other hand, Clayton's vindictive nature whispered it was past time to end Dunne once and for all, and if discovery forced Clayton to fight his way out of the hospital so be it. Decision made, he grasped the clear IV bag and inserted the syringe needle. Across the room the bathroom door swung open while the cell phone continued to play. Clayton instantly recognized the tall brunet as Buck Wilmington. He smiled tauntingly at the surprised agent and declared, "Too late!" as he pressed down on the syringe plunger and filled the IV with its lethal serum.
Casey smiled in greeting towards JD's coworker, "Hi Nathan. How is JD doing?"
"He's definitely improving," Nathan reassured with a wide smile. "In fact, I just spoke with his doctor and he's very pleased with JD's progress. He won't be running any marathons in the near future, but give him a couple months and he'll be back to his old self. How about I walk you to his room and let you see for yourself?" Nathan offered.
"Great. I've got all sorts of stuff so he doesn't get bored and Aunt Nettie sent a bunch of food too. It's sure to be a welcome break from hospital grub."
"Casey, your Aunt Nettie's food it always a treat," agreed Nathan. They'd moved a short distance down the hall when Nathan's cell rang. Checking the display he explained, "I've got to take this call; it's from Chris. JD's room is the last one on the left." Then coffee skinned agent stepped back to answer his call in hushed tones.
Casey hoped it was good news. Maybe Chris and the others had caught up with whoever had hurt JD; his teammates were a force to be reckoned with. Approaching the door Nathan had described, Casey was alarmed to hear a crash and cursing. She rushed into the room to narrowly avoid being crushed by a tumble of bodies, one of which was a towel clad Buck.
"The IV's been tainted. Pull it out!" Buck shouted to Casey a he continued to battle the unknown assailant.
The stranger took advantage of Buck's momentary distraction by delivering a powerful right hook and gaining the upper hand. Casey hardly noticed as she rushed to JD's side; first bending the IV tubing double to cut off its flow and then quickly but carefully pulling the IV needle from JD's hand. She couldn't help letting out a panicked yelp when Buck and the attacker stumbled into the end of JD's hospital bed. JD moaned but remained unconscious. Casey had witnessed the occasional fight in the past, but none of them compared to the struggle before her. The usual dented ego or drunken temper was replaced with a predatory intent to maim and kill. Though Casey knew in her mind that she'd walked into the room just seconds ago, the fight seemed to be going on for hours. Both combatants were tiring yet neither had taken control. The certainty that Buck would protect them to his last breath didn't erase the fear that he might not be up to the challenge this time; especially when his assailant delivered two sharp blows to the abdomen. Buck retaliated with a hit to the ribs and a punch to the jaw, but Casey couldn't help but wonder how much longer he could keep the tit-for-tat up.
"Please wake up, JD," Casey rubbed her boyfriend's with gentle urgency. "We need to get you out of here." As she spoke the words, Casey knew it wasn't going to be easy. Even if JD woke up he'd still be hampered by his broken leg. Could Casey help him to the door? Probably, but getting the injured agent out of the room without his attacker noticing or stopping them was dicey at best. Another moan from the bed had Casey focusing on JD as he struggled to open his eyes. "That's it JD, wake up!" Maybe getting him to safety wouldn't be easy, but Casey strengthened her resolve to at least try.
"Case . . . y?" JD asked in a rough voice, confusion clouding his eyes. When he moved to sit up Casey quickly shifted to help him. "What's goin' on?" His eyes tracked to the sounds of struggle, instinctively knowing that danger was near. Before Casey could answer, the door to the hall was opened again.
"What the Hell is going on here?" shouted Nathan as he charged into the fray.
Michael Clayton heard the new threat but was unable to address it with Wilmington demanding all of his attention. Things weren't going at all like he'd planned. The irritating girl, (Where the hell had she come from anyway?) seemed to have rescued Dunne from the poisoned IV. Wilmington, whom he'd always written off as a lout who got by on his size and intimidation factor, was putting up a much more skilled defense than he'd expected. With Jackson returned, Clayton was outnumbered and he knew it was time to flee. He managed to shove Wilmington with enough force to knock the large man back, but his attempt to dart around Jackson was far less successful. The agent had caught Clayton's arm and swung him into the wall, jerking his wrist up behind his back in a textbook pin.
"Are you alright Buck?" asked Nathan as he restrained their suspect.
"Yeah, I'm good," replied Buck as he leaned against the wall clearly winded. "In case you hadn't figured it out, that creep your holding is the rotten Fed JD told us about, I think his name is Claymore or Clinton."
"Clayton," Nathan corrected, clearly remembering the aloof DEA agent from the Eagle Bend Taskforce. "Michael Clayton, you are under arrest for the murders of Trey Hunter and Henry 'Slick' Lyshe," he announced as he secured Clayton with handcuffs, "and the attempted murder of Federal Agent John Daniel Dunne. You have the right to remain silent . . ." the agent continued to Marandize Clayton as he walked him out the door.
"Well that was exciting," smiled Buck now that everyone was safe. Then again JD did still look a little pale. "Maybe we ought to have a doctor in here to make sure you didn't get any of the poison what's-his-name was trying to use on you."
"As long as you put something on," countered JD, his ears turning a bit red.
"Huh?" was Buck confused response.
"Buck, you're standing naked in front of my girlfriend!" JD spelled it out for Buck in exasperation, as a red blush darkened both cheeks.
Far from being embarrassed, Buck's grin grew when he looked down at his body and then at the floor where his towel lay. "Oops! Guess I lost this during the fight," Buck remembered. Taking pity on the young couple Buck continued, "I'll just change in the bathroom while you two catch up."
JD let out a disgruntled sigh. He wasn't sure what had been going on while he'd been asleep, but if it involved his girlfriend and a naked Buck there was no way he could be happy about it. "I'm sorry Casey," JD offered. When Casey merely raised her eyebrows JD continued, "for Buck being . . . well, Buck."
"It's not a problem," assured Casey, her eyes glue on JD. "I hadn't actually noticed."
Hearing that; JD decided maybe he could be happy about the situation after all.
"Please, I just need to clarify once more," began Ezra mirthfully, "Our very own Mr. Wilmington valiantly and selflessly risked life and limb in all of his natural glory, and the only woman in the room 'didn't notice'?" All of the Seven laughed at Ezra's teasing recap.
"You're losing your touch," Vin taunted Buck good-naturedly.
"The only explanation," declared Buck, "is that poor sweet Casey is in love and love has made her blind."
JD groaned while the others continued to chuckle. It was the first time all seven had been together since JD's attack and everyone was comparing notes; currently at Buck's expense. Becoming more serious Ezra spoke again, this time directly to JD, "I would like to take this opportunity to thank you Mr. Dunne for your diligence and self sacrifice in seeing that I was warned about the risk to my person." When JD looked ready to protest Ezra pressed on. "Simply by escaping and drawing the attention of emergency services, you alerted our team and made sure that I was not at home sleeping when that loathsome Mr. Clayton broke into my abode intent on mayhem. I thank you JD for not giving up."
"Sure thing Ezra," murmured JD, a bit embarrassed by Ezra's declaration. Deciding to change the subject he asked, "How is the case against agent Clayton looking?"
"Pretty rock solid," assured Chris. "Despite his attempt to stage the scene and make it look like Hunter and Lyshe killed each other there's enough conflicting forensic evidence to nail him for it. We've got your testimony about Clayton not only blowing your cover but also beating you and planning to kill you. Plus Buck, Casey and Nathan's testimony about the second attack here in the hospital. The CSIs have the syringe and tainted IV which is being tested as we speak. And apparently the forensic accountants have tracked several accounts to Clayton's illegal dealings; some of which tie into Mexican cartels, they've also found a few links to a survivalist group and also a couple smaller local gangs."
"Wow," murmured JD, "Clayton couldn't have been too careful if they've got that much on him already."
"Well according to the senior agent I talked to at the DEA, at least a few people were suspicious, but they didn't have enough evidence to justify a thorough investigation. The minute he was arrested warrants went out and all of his dirty little secrets were exposed to the sun," explained Chris.
"Sounds to me," added Buck, "that those folks ought to be thanking you for breaking their case wide open."
"Nobody needs to thank me for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and meeting up with the wrong person," countered JD. "It was just stupid, blind luck."
"Let's not forget the procedural violation where you engaged in contact with suspects without giving notification or gathering back up," Chris pointed out sternly. "We will be reviewing contact procedure once you're out of here." JD squirmed beneath Chris' firm declaration. "But that aside, when the situation turned; you kept a cool head, waited for your opportunity and stayed alive. I'm proud of you for that."
"Thanks Chris," JD accepted the praise though he still didn't think he deserved it. His memory of recent events might be a bit cloudy, but he was certain of one thing: he never would have survived without the others. Sure he'd been alone when Clayton along with Hunter and Lyshe had tied him to a chair and beaten him, but even then his mind had been full of thoughts that assured everything would be alright if only he could reach his team, that they'd rush to his aid and defend him against all comers. It was that absolute certainty, that pure faith that had kept JD's spirit going long after his body and mind were ready to give. Looking at his teammates crowded into the little room, he recognized that these men were not just his friends, but his family; and he knew that his faith had been more than justified.
The End
Author's Note: I originally started this story back in 2007, but 'real life' came knocking and forced me to reprioritize. Unfortunately writing fan fiction didn't make the cut. Once I was able to again indulge my beloved pastime I decided to finish what I'd started so long ago. Please let me know what you think of it and I'll give bonus points to anyone who can figure out which scenes were written before my 3 ½ year hiatus.