Hunting for Ezra
Atlanta Georgia
Noon Day 5
"Hey Mike, I'm glad you could meet me," Chris shook hands and the two men headed for a table in the little restaurant.
"Chris I know you didn't fly in just for lunch what's up?" Naval Capt. Mike Livingston asked curiously. Looking Chris over he relaxed. He's not shutting everything out. He's finally healing. Chris seems to be taking down the walls. Damn I'm glad to see it.
"I'm putting a team together for AD Travis," Chris began.
"You want my take on someone?" Mike sat back with a grin.
"Unless you've stopped digging up dirt," Chris answered calmly.
"What can I say I like dirt," the Naval Intelligence Officer smirked.
"Need you to find out about a FBI agent for me, Ezra P. Standish," Chris looked over.
"Hell Chris, everybody in my line of work has heard of the Gambler," Mike laughed.
"Is he any good?" Chris asked.
"None better and I mean that Chris," Mike answered seriously.
"I understand he's been in trouble," Chris continued.
"Larabee one of the hardest things to do in my line of work is staying away from Internal Affairs. No matter what you do someone will point a finger," Mike said emotionlessly. Chris nodded remembering just such a fix that he had to bail Mike out of when he was on Chris' SEAL team.
"Is he a white hat, Mike?" Larabee asked his old team mate.
"I have nothing to say otherwise," Mike answered sharply.
"Mike you know me dammit. All I want to know is do you think he'd make a good man for my team?" Chris demanded. Mike flinched at the rebuke. Livingston's veiled eyes studied the man who had saved career and quite possibly his life.
"I think if you don't get him out of here he's dead," Mike answered flatly.
"Shit!" Chris stiffened.
"Chris get him out of town tonight," Mike's eyes lifted and were easily read. "2 months ago his backup never showed. His handler Mikal Linders died. Standish was intensive care for 2 weeks. They reprimanded him, tried to make it out like he screwed up," Mike revealed.
"They left him out in the cold," Chris asked bitterly.
"I think your boy found something his supervisors want buried...deep, six feet deep," Mike growled. Looks like the Gambler's luck might hold a while longer.
"Thanks for the info Mike," Chris picked up a menu.
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"So tell me about this team of yours?" Mike asked.
"I have a profiler by the name of Josiah Sanchez," Chris began.
"Sanchez ... did he teach some classes at the academy?" Mike straightened.
"I think so. He's a big man built like a tank," Chris said.
"A preacher?" Mike questioned.
"Once upon a time," Chris replied.
"Preacher man's classes were never boring," Mike grinned.
"Then I have Dr. Nathan Jackson, chemist, forensics, trama specialist. The man's steady as a rock," Chris listed.
"Hell Chris you're the only man I know that needs a medic just to follow him around," Mike laughed out loud. Chris' lip twitched remembering several ... incidents in the past.
"Then somehow I let JD Dunne talk himself onto the team. I haven't been sorry I did, the kid's a whiz with anything electronic," Chris said..
"You're the one that snatched up DUNNE," Mike's mouth dropped open. "Sanchez is one of the best profiler's around. Then you got Dunne too," Mike breathed in awe.
"You know about JD?" Chris asked in surprise.
"Chris that kid's not good. He writes the books that the good ones are smart enough to use," Mike enthused.
Chris stared for a long moment. I didn't know the kid was that good.
"Who else do you have?" Mike scooted his chair forward excitedly.
"Buck," Chris grinned.
"I should have known the big dog would still be with you," Mike smiled faintly. A wide grin covered the usually controlled features. "Damn that man," he laughed.
"It take it you forgave him over Madeline?" Chris asked softly.
"Hell yes," Mike answered.
"I wonder what ever happened to Super Glue?" Chris wondered aloud. Remembering the persistent woman that, Buck and Mike had fallen out over. A stunning beauty with nothing else going for her. Even Buck began to find her sexual exploits beyond the pale.
"I married her," Mike muttered
"I'm sorry," Chris winced at his crass Super Glue comment.
"So was I," Mike snickered. "She got stuck on someone else three months later. Chris I was never so glad to see anybody leave in my entire life," Mike grinned cheerfully. "So that's your team. Sounds like you have a good one." Mike got back on track.
"There's also a high man by the name of Tanner," Chris corrected.
"Tanner? Doesn't sound familiar is he any good?" Mike scowled he didn't like the idea of a good enough standing high ground for Larabee.
"Yeah, despite his having been a ranger,"Chris chuckled bringing up the old rivalry.
"A dirt pounder," Mike snorted.
"He just keeps surprising the hell out of me," Chris smiled wryly.
Mike studied his old CO. Wonder if Tanner has a sledge hammer? Somebody sure has been beating down Chris' wall. I'd be willing to bet it's this fella. "Tell me about him," Mike urged.
"You remember Fats?"
"Sure,"
"Tanner's about his size except skinnier,"
"Skinner? Then Fats?"
"Long hair, scruffy he has the damndest Texas drawl. Then he can just up and disappear," Chris said thoughtfully trying to describe Vin.
"Sounds like he's wormed his way behind your walls," Mike smiled.
"What walls, Shit! Mike He'll just give me that damn smirk when I glare at him," Chris admitted.
"Sounds like someone I need to meet," Mike settled back.
"You'd like him," Chris smiled.
I haven't seen Chris smile in forever.
"He won the training centers firing range award the first time out," Chris bragged.
"With a hand gun? I thought he was your sniper?" Mike questioned.
"Yeah he's fantastic with both. Tanner's a weapons specialist. One of our range officers was real excited when he came in. Seems like he helped train him. Gave us instructions on the care and feeding of his Soft Foot," Chris rambled comfortably.
"SOFT FOOT! It can't be the little shit's dead," Mike barked.
"That's what David Elliot, our long range instructor called him," Chris stiffened.
"But I know I heard the Falcon died in Iraq," Mike muttered.
Chris looked over, "Mike if he wants to be dead then lets keep him that way. You hear me?".
"Holy Shit! If your Tanner really is 'Soft Foot' ... Good Lord, Chris you've got the top men out of 3 fields and your going after a fourth. What in hell kind of work are you doing in Denver?" Mike spluttered.
"Travis is sending us after the top dogs, no holds barred," Chris smiled ferally.
The two men finished lunch and parted ways. No one suggested further meetings but both knew the other was only a phone call away.