SAVING VIN by AJB
CHAPTER TEN
"Nathan!" Surprised, Raine yelped from the doorway of her husband's hospital room, her hand flying to her heart. Recovering quickly, she then narrowed her eyes in suspicion and spoke sharply. "What do you think you're doing?"
Startled by the suddenness of her appearance, Nathan's eyes rounded and his good leg buckled. He grabbed wildly for the metal railing of his bed and let out a gasp.
"Oh!" Raine darted forward to keep him from hitting the floor. Planting her leg solidly under his butt she grabbed his arm for stability, stopping his slow fall.
"Wheelchair," he gasped.
With a little help, he was able to get his good leg under him again and balanced enough for Raine to draw the wheelchair into an appropriate position. Nathan hopped once and settled into the chair with a relieved sigh.
"I repeat," Raine said reduced heat. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Helping Chris and Vin." Nathan unlocked the wheels and started forward, but found his path blocked by his grim-faced spouse. She stood with fisted hands on her hips and pinned him with dark glare. He managed to hold her laser stare without flinching. "It's stitched closed and wrapped tight, and I have some great pain meds. If I keep my weight off of it, I'll be fine. We have crutches at home."
"And you plan on getting home . . . how?"
"I had hoped that by beautiful, compassionate wife would stand by my decision and help me help my team."
"How can you help? You can't even stand!"
Nathan sighed and looked down for a moment to gather his thoughts and diffuse the urgency that threatened to show itself as anger. "Josiah called. They need me to do some research at the Denver Police Department. It's sit down, computer work, honey. They need my help. They can't trust anyone else."
She stood firm for a moment longer; Nathan expected her toe to start tapping on the cold floor any second but instead, she let out a deep sigh and relaxed her stance. "One condition - I'm there with you. You can't go jumping around like a maniac."
He looked insulted. "I don't jump around like a maniac. You're confusing me with the other guys."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'. And Nathan, I swear, if you ever say 'I'm fine' in response to a question, you'll be back here so fast it'll make your head spin. Understand?"
"Again, you're confusing me with . . ." The glare his normally lovely spouse leveled at him made Nathan swallow the last part of his sentence. He cleared his throat and surrendered with a nod. "Yeah. Understood. Now let's go."
Raine gave him a sweet smile and then slipped around behind the wheelchair. Nathan wondered if she was going to send him down the first set of stairs they came across and nervously gripped the cold, metal arms of his ride as they left the hospital room.
Later, Raine pulled into the headquarters parking lot of the Denver Police Department and parked. She wrangled the wheelchair from the hatch and patiently helped Nathan into it before asking the obvious. "Now, why are we here instead of at your office?"
"Travis thinks the team is being watched and doesn't want me to use the computers in our building. That's all I know. Josiah's supposed to meet me here."
When they entered the building, Raine maneuvered him expertly through the sparse crowd until they reached the reception desk, where a beefy, annoyed-looking, uniformed officer sat. Nathan gave his name and driver's license to the officer. After carefully checking both his and Raine's photos, he directed them to a door off to one side. Nathan heard a "click" when the electronic lock released and Raine pushed him through.
It was a beehive of activity with both uniformed and plain clothed personnel behind the door. Phones rang, computer keyboards clacked and many different conversations were going on consecutively at various levels of volume. Nathan and Raine stopped just inside the door and looked for a familiar face. It wasn't long before a door opened at the end of a long hall and Josiah's large frame came into view and waving for the pair to approach. Raine pushed her husband down the hall, past rows of cluttered cubicles corralling detectives with loosened ties barking into phone receivers sandwiched between hunched shoulders and reddened ears.
When they passed Josiah and he pulled the door shut behind them, all the noises changed. Here, in the prisoner holding area, sound echoed on the spartan, linoleum floors and plain, undecorated walls. Nathan rolled past tiny, windowed interview rooms to a secluded office tucked in a far corner. Once pushed into the office, he was completely surprised to find Agent Ted Casselman handcuffed to a prisoner bench. Nathan craned his neck and gave Josiah an astonished look.
"Ted, here, is in that area known as between a rock and a hard place. He's volunteered to get us some information." Josiah handed Nathan a folder. "This is what we know so far. What we need is a plan that will recover Becky Casselman, Ted's wife, and won't tip our hand. The others are in seclusion and working on another angle." As he spoke, Josiah uncuffed Ted and moved him to the chair in front of the computer. Josiah lifted a set of ankle chains from the corner and secured Casselman's legs. "Send anything he finds directly to Travis via fax." He pointed to a fax machine/telephone behind the computer monitor. "Here's the number."
Nathan accepted the business card offered by his teammate. "Is that all?" he said with a hint of sarcasm.
Josiah chuckled and gave Nathan's shoulder a shake. Josiah pointed at the folder. "While he's doing that, you have your own work. What we need is in that file, last page. You should be getting several faxes from these people." Josiah pointed to the contact information for the Department of Motor Vehicles of Colorado and surrounding states. "Perfect for a man in your infirmed state."
Raine chuckled and Nathan scowled as he rolled his wheelchair behind a second computer screen situated closer to the fax machine. "Do I have a contact here? Is this place secure?"
"It's the best we can do for now. Buck and Chris have an old friend here that they trust - Bob Niley. He's the precinct Captain. He'll be keeping an eye on you and knows that no one should be bothering you." Josiah pointed to a camera mounted high in the room's corner.
"I gave my name to the desk officer. Was I not supposed to do that?"
"It will be purged momentarily. I will be in the next room checking web sites," Josiah said.
"You look like you need sleep," Raine pointed out.
"Can't fool you!" Josiah chuckled as he left. "As I said, we're spread thin. Any way you can find to help, Miss Raine, would be greatly appreciated."
She sighed and then grumbled, "Sounds like I'm making coffee."
Josiah gave her a grin and patted her shoulder. "You are an angel. Really."
Nathan just snorted.
M7/LB/ATF
The two men eyed each other from their respective seats across DPD Captain Niley's meticulously ordered desk. Both men's faces were impassively set, not giving any hint of a clue as to what was running through their minds.
"So, Mister. . ." Niley glanced at a piece of paper in front of him. ". . . Baker. What's this all about?"
Keith Baker appeared to be in his mid-thirties, clean-cut and neatly dressed in a plain suit. Niley's first impression was "cop", but the man had presented himself at the precinct front counter as a citizen seeking an audience with the Captain. Now that the man was here, there was an obvious game of cat-and-mouse in play. Caution reigned.
"I have a complaint," Baker said slowly, holding Niley's gaze to a point where it felt like a challenge. "Regarding a man named Sean Griffin."
Niley ran the name through his head and came up blank. "Is this a complaint against one of my staff or something personal?"
"I'm not sure." Baker spoke as if he was dancing on eggshells, but his eyes never left Niley's face.
Captain Niley considered the name before saying, "In what context would this Mr. Griffin work for me if he was on my staff? An officer? Clerk?"
The fine muscles around Baker's eyes twitched as if fighting off the urge to narrow his stare. "Well," he said slowly, "actually, it's Dr. Griffin."
Niley's leather chair squeaked softly as the Captain shifted his weight and leaned back. After a moment, he tilted his head and replied, "We don't have a whole lot of doctors on the Denver PD staff, Mr. Baker, unless you're referring to a Doctorate's degree. What kind of doctor is this gentleman?"
Baker searched the Captain's face for a good long while, appearing to be carefully considering. As he did so, Niley looked more closely at the man seated across from him. Tiny clues like tension lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes, along with the faint, dark semi-circles high on his cheekbone told him that Baker was under stress, and had been for a long while. The man was haunted. Niley felt as if he was being circled by a starving pit bull seeking an exposed jugular vein.
"He's a medical doctor," Baker finally said with questioning slowness. "A plastic surgeon."
That took Niley by surprise and he was unable to keep it from showing in his eyes. Then he frowned, completely perplexed. "Why would we have a plastic surgeon on staff? Shouldn't you be talking to the County? They are the ones that take care of inmates, not the P.D. They would have doctors on staff."
The charged silence and the barely suppressed waves of expression on his visitor's face told the Captain that the man before him was waging some kind of internal battle. Niley saw the exact moment that Baker arrived at some sort of decision and surrendered when the man's shoulders slumped wearily and he sighed in exhaustion. Drooping, his eyelids managed a slow blink.
"I have to be honest with you, Captain," he started in a hoarse voice as he rubbed his eyes. "I really have nowhere else to turn and I'm out of options." He carefully reached into his jacket and pulled out a flat wallet. "My real name is Lee Barnette and I'm a D.E.A. agent." He flipped open his ID and handed it to Niley. "I'm backed so deep into a corner I haven't seen daylight in months. Do not call my office. I have no choice but to trust you."
Niley looked closely at the ID before answering very carefully. "Why do you trust me and why do you have no choice? And most importantly, why shouldn't I call your office?"
"I didn't see any sign of lying when I mentioned Griffin. It's taken me awhile, but I've learned to trust no one. I only have my instinct and my instinct tells me I can trust you. I have to."
Intrigued, Niley leaned forward and offered back the flat badge wallet. "Why don't you start from the beginning, Agent Barnette?"
M7/LB/ATF
Buck, Chris and Matt should have been enjoying the quiet time watching the boys play from the small cabin's porch. Instead, Buck sat on the top step and the other two leaned on the porch rail in an uneasy silence. JD and Vin were busy making a new camouflaged fort using all they had learned from the first one.
"I feel so damned useless," Chris muttered, tossing a splintered wooden match to the ground. He'd picked it to bits with his fingernails.
"It's tough being out of the action," Matt replied softly. "But you know Vin needs you the most right now."
"Doesn't make it any easier, feeling like a sitting duck 'n all."
Buck rose to his feet. "I'm gonna help the boys," he said, jogging to the tree line. A few moments later they heard surprised yelps and giggles as Buck invaded the boys' construction site.
Matt laughed and Chris couldn't help but smile. He was still chuckling when the disposable phone in his pocket rang. "Larabee," he growled after snapping it open. He listened for a long while, his face a mask, before uttering. "Bring everyone here, Josiah. I have an idea. And bring more phones."
Chris' father looked expectantly at him as he pocketed the phone and straightened. Apparently, something showed in his expression, causing Matt to say, "The sitting duck is turning into the hunting dog, I suspect?"
One corner of Chris' mouth curled upward. "That obvious, huh?"
Matt also straightened and stretched his back. "Well, son, you never were one for waiting."
Turning serious, Chris caught his father's eyes. "Are you okay with being here alone for a bit?" He pulled his duty weapon from his hip. "I'll leave this with you along with the shotgun inside. It won't be for long."
Matt accepted the weapon, inspected it, and then nodded. "Vin won't be happy."
"Neither am I."
Chris called to Buck and Ezra, and the three saddled their horses. Vin and JD hovered nearby with Claire at their back, trying to reassure them. Once the horses were ready, Chris led Pony to where his boy stood with his concerned grandmother.
"Hey, Cowboy," Chris said as he squatted down. "I won't be gone long. You won't be alone and you're safe here. Will you be all right for a little while?"
Vin's fingers intertwined nervously even though he nodded and whispered, "Yeah."
"I'm not leaving the reservation, son. I need to talk to Kojay and the others. We'll be at the barn just down there." Chris pointed in the general direction of the structure. "Keep workin' on your fort and start another one. They may come in useful."
That last bit stalled Vin's fingers and dried the threatening tears as curiosity rose.
Chris smiled and quickly kissed him on the top of his head. "You aren't much for waiting either, are you? I'll be back soon. You and JD get busy."
When he rose to go, Claire gave him a questioning look and stopped him with her hand. Chris turned to her and waited, but all she said was, "Be careful, son."
He offered a sardonic smile and patted her hand. "I will, Mom."
After Buck gave JD a reassuring hug, the three men mounted up and headed out. Once out of hearing range of the cabin, Ezra spoke up.
"Since we are departing our idyllic lodgings am I to assume there is a plan that we will be informed of soon?"
"It's still in the works," Chris growled, "but I have an idea."
"Wonderful. I am waiting in anticipation."
Chris turned and glared in response to Ezra's sarcastic tone. "You got something to say, Ezra?"
"Where shall I begin?" Ezra trotted his horse next to Chris'. "I do not like being in the wild. I do not like feeling like a target. But most of all, I do not like leaving them alone in that prehistoric shack without any kind of cover or trained back up."
Chris was unperturbed by Ezra's rant; his agent's thoughts were too close to his own to dispute. After a moment, he responded with a question. "Who do you think taught me to shoot?"
It was a rare thing to see Ezra caught by surprise, and Buck laughed at the expression that crossed the gambler's face. "Both Matt and Claire can shoot the spots off a ladybug," Buck said jovially. "Just be sure to announce yourself when we return, Ez."
Speechless and grudgingly satisfied for the moment, Ezra fell back and followed his boss and friend.
When they emerged from the trees and entered the barn, Chris asked one of the resident boys to get Kojay. By the time the horses settled, the elder tribesman had joined them and the four men sat on bales of hay and planned. Ideas were etched in the dirt, smudged away and re-drawn. By the time they heard the crunch of wheels on gravel outside, a temporary plan had been agreed upon. Before Kojay departed, Chris retrieved the new batch of portable phones from Travis and gave them to his friend.
Orrin watched Kojay issue quiet orders to a pair of young men and leave the rest of them alone in the barn.
"What's that about?" Travis asked Chris.
"A perimeter," Chris said as he eyed Casselman and the stranger with them. "This the guy?"
"Agent Barnette, meet Agents Larabee, Wilmington and Standish," Orrin started.
None of the three offered their hand.
"You sure about him?" Buck asked, clearly suspicious as Chris raked Barnette with his laser glare. He got points for not flinching under the scrutiny.
"Yes."
Meanwhile Casselman, handcuffed, snapped, "He's fine. Now can we save my wife?"
Chris turned a furious glare on Casselman, barely restrained by Ezra and Buck when he took a step toward the wayward agent. Travis stepped between his agent and Casselman and glared right back.
"Casselman is one of our top intelligence agents, Chris, which is why he's in the position he's in - his expertise is worth lots of money outside the A.T.F. He knows he's caught dead to rights, and the only thing he's good for at this moment is saving his wife. That's motive enough for me. I'm sure it would be the same for you, Chris, given the circumstances."
Travis had him with that one. If Chris had been given the chance to sacrifice his career to save his wife and son five years ago, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
"Casselman hacked into the D.E.A.'s files and found some interesting similarities. Everything Agent Barnette told me has been backed up by the information Casselman found in the D.E.A.'s files. Let's get over this and save a woman's life and hopefully, Vin's, for God's sake."
The tense silence hung like an impending storm but Chris finally nodded in agreement and Agent Lee Barnette started his tale.
TBC
7-24-09