Note: You've made it to the last chapter. Thank you for riding with me and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have! Please excuse any medical or ATF procedural errors.
Chapter 9
Friday, June 1
"We're done, Chris."
Chris smiled, letting the tension flow out of his shoulders. "Were you able to get a good view of the front of the warehouse?"
Josiah chuckled. "I think that boy gave us a view from every possible angle. Anybody that sets a foot in here is going to get recorded, both picture and sound."
"Perfect," Chris said, his grin widening. "You guys talk to Max?"
"Max and I had a very interesting conversation about agents that try to play both sides of the street while our young genius finished setting up the surveillance equipment. He was as unhappy with the current situation as we are. I dare say he's looking forward to playing his role in this endeavor."
Chris chuckled, thinking that sounded like something Ezra would say. "He probably is at that. Max gets about as riled as we do about dirty agents. Why don't you two take a long lunch break? Marco should be back in a few and I'll send him out with the guns about 1:30 and then tell him he can go home early."
"Sounds like a plan. Was Marco concerned with the absences this morning?"
"No, didn't seem to be. I got everyone together first thing to tell them JD and Ezra went to a software meeting and that you had been requested to offer your profiling skills to one of the other teams. They all went to lunch a while ago so they should start . . . actually, Marco and Buck are just coming back in. Call before you head this way."
"Will do, boss. Here comes JD, so we'll see you after lunch."
Chris hung up, chuckling to himself at Max's probable reaction. Max had been an agent for ATF for almost 20 years when a dirty cop providing backup for a bust had sold them out. The ATF team walked into an ambush and Max barely escaped with his life. He'd been left with a limp that excluded him from field duty. He was now in charge of security for the warehouse where they stored confiscated weapons until they were destroyed or sold.
Chris watched as Buck and Marco joked around before settling at their desks. He had to admit that Buck's acting skills were much better than he'd anticipated. As far as he was concerned, his old friend deserved an Emmy.
Twenty minutes later the phone rang. "Larabee."
"Chris, it's Andy. We got all the guns loaded into the van. You still want your guy to drive them over to the warehouse?"
"Yes. That's not a problem, right?"
"Oh, it's no problem. You're actually doing me a huge favor. We've got a new case as of this morning and things are moving pretty quickly."
"I understand. As you know, we're down a man and have a replacement working for another man, so we're doing a lot of paperwork right now. I figured we've got more time to play delivery boy with the weapons we picked up in that bust. It'll give one of the guys a chance to get out of the office."
"Yeah, I heard Standish is back and pulling desk duty. I'm glad he's okay. I'm guessing you're ready to get your sniper back by now."
Chris stiffened before remembering Andy had not only been there for the bust but had also talked to him about Marco's soiled reputation with certain folks in the FBI. He knew Andy wouldn't run at the mouth with others. "You've got that right. Don't worry about the guns. I'll get them moved this afternoon."
"I'm not worried, just relieved that I don't have to do it. Take care, Chris."
"You too. Thanks for getting them loaded."
Hanging up, Chris took a deep breath. Time to put the plan into action. He stood and walked over to open his office door to step out. "Hey, Marco, could I see you a minute?" He was careful to keep his voice and expression neutral. Marco seemed relaxed as he got up to follow Chris into his office. So far, so good.
"Do I need to close the door?" Marco asked, hesitating in the doorway.
Chris shook his head. "No, this won't take long." He waited until Marco sat down to continue.
"What's up?" asked Marco as he leaned back in the chair.
"I need you to run an errand." He smiled as he looked at Marco, trying not to think about what he really wanted to do to the weasel. Marco's brows went up. "We've got several crates of weapons from our bust with Team 2 that need to be moved to the warehouse. Team 5 has a few crates as well. Since we're doing random stuff right now, we get to play delivery boy."
Marco straightened and leaned forward, obviously interested. "You want me to drive it over?"
Chris put on his best apologetic look. "Yeah. Look, I know it's kind of a lame job, but someone's got to do it. On the plus side, Team 2 has already loaded all the crates into a van and there should be some guys at the warehouse to unload it."
Marco nodded. "No, that's okay. I don't mind."
Chris smiled. "Great. I appreciate it. Hey, it's the end of the week and we're kind of winding down. When you return the van, you can just take off for what's left of the afternoon, okay?"
"Yeah, great. Thanks, Chris."
"No, thank you," said Chris. He reached into the center drawer of his desk and pulled out a key on a keychain shaped like a horseshoe. "This is the key to the gate. It's usually open during the day, but take it along in case it's locked for some reason. You can give it back to me Monday if you don't want to come all the way back upstairs before leaving." He handed the key to Marco.
"Okay, thanks, I just might do that if you're sure you won't need it."
Chris shook his head. "I won't need it. This is the only thing I use it for and I sure don't plan on visiting the warehouse over the weekend. Don't get any ideas about waiting until tomorrow to take the guns because the building will be closed and locked tomorrow. They're only open Monday through Friday."
Marco nodded, smiling. Chris couldn't help but notice what appeared to be a glint in the man's eyes. He was pretty sure Marco was swallowing this hook, line, and sinker. After explaining how to get to the warehouse, Chris told him where the van with the guns was parked. "You'll need to sign for it at the desk, but the keys should be in it. Marks just called up to say it was ready. Any questions?"
Marco shook his head. "No, I've got it."
"Good. Thanks again, Marco. I'd do it myself but I've still got a stack of reports to review."
"No problem. I'll see you guys Monday."
Chris flipped his hand in a wave and looked back down at his computer screen, listening to Marco return to his desk. A few minutes later he heard him telling Buck goodbye while Buck ragged on him about getting to leave early. Several minutes later Buck appeared in his doorway.
"Looks like we're right on schedule," said Buck.
Chris looked up, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Now we need to see if he takes the bait. Did JD get the van wired?"
Buck nodded. "He makes any calls from inside the van and we'll know. Having him drive one of our vehicles was a good idea."
"We'll see," said Chris. Part of him was excited at the prospect of taking Marco down and the other part of him kept thinking this had been way too easy. Well, maybe that was because they hadn't actually accomplished much yet. "Here's hoping."
oOo
Marco couldn't believe what a bunch of saps the magnificent Team 7 was. He laughed, thinking that their so-called leader was the worst of the bunch. First Larabee hovers over Tanner like he's his father or something while glaring at Marco like he was the devil himself. Now he's practically falling all over himself to be nice to him while he hadn't mentioned Tanner in several days.
For a moment, that sent off all sorts of alarm bells in Marco's head. Frowning, he went over everything that had happened the last few days, trying to determine if he'd been made or not. Then it hit him. He laughed so hard that his eyes teared and he had to slow down until he could see again. The timing explained it all.
Larabee had begun ignoring Tanner and trying to be nice to him right after the confrontation on the stairs. Although no mention was ever made about the guns and drugs in the sniper's apartment, he knew the police had gone there with a search warrant. The only explanation was that Larabee had found the stuff and covered for Tanner, probably on impulse. His recent behavior could only mean that Larabee was angry with Tanner over the discovery.
"It's one thing to cover for a man on the team you're responsible for, but it's another thing entirely to continue to trust him," he muttered to himself. Just because he was willing to keep Tanner out of jail didn't mean he wanted him on his team. He chuckled to himself. Looked like his move to permanent replacement was getting closer.
He was smiling broadly as he turned into the warehouse driveway. The gates were open, so he drove on to the front of the building. He barely had the vehicle in park when a huge man came out of the front door, walking with a slight limp. The guy was as tall as Jackson and built like Sanchez. Gray touched the edges of his short brown hair and hazel eyes were locked onto Marco like lasers.
"Can I help you?" The giant of a man had a clipboard in one hand, but his other hovered near his gun. Marco was thankful he didn't have to tangle with this guy.
"Yeah, I'm Marco Valdez. I brought some weapons down for storage for Chris Larabee." He leaned against the van, trying to look relaxed.
The large man consulted his clipboard before looking back at Marco. He stood stock still for a few moments until Marco got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of telling the guy never mind when he broke out into a huge grin.
"Max Granger," the man said, extending his hand while chuckling. "Sorry, I just can't resist teasing new guys."
Marco relaxed and returned the grin while shaking the massive hand. Man, this guy was huge. "Max seems a bit prophetic."
Max shrugged. "Max is a nickname that stuck, can't imagine why."
"No, me neither," Marco deadpanned.
Max laughed. "I like you, Marco. Good sense of humor." He walked over to open the sliding door on the van and look at the stacked crates. "Yeah, that's what I thought. How about if you drive on down to those overhead doors. We'll get the door open so you can drive on in and I'll get the boys to unload." He closed the door and looked back at Marco. "Sound good to you?"
Marco nodded and held his arms out, palms up. "Hey, you had me when you said someone else had to unload all these crates."
Max laughed and nodded. "Exactly. See you down at the door."
By the time Marco had the van started, Max was already inside the building. Man, that guy could move fast, especially considering he had a bum leg. Marco arrived at the overhead door about the time it was opening and backed inside the large building. He got out and rounded the vehicle to find Max already there, throwing open the sliding door.
"All right, guys," he said to the two guys trailing him. "These go in Section H3. Put them in . . " he trailed off, flipping through the papers on a clipboard. "Looks like we've got two different busts here and we need to keep them separate. The crates marked alpha tango two go in slot four and the ones marked alpha tango five go in slot five. Got that?" he asked, looking back at his men.
The larger of the two nodded. "Got it, Max." The shorter man pushed a flatbed cart up near the van and the two began hauling crates out to stack on the cart.
"Come on in, kid and I'll treat you to cup of coffee," said Max, motioning toward a glass front office.
Marco followed slowly, looking around the warehouse. "Sure is crowded in here. Are all of those weapons?"
Max turned as he reached the office door and glanced around the building. "Yeah, everything in this building is some kind of weapon, mostly guns. More and more illegal guns on the street means more and more are confiscated and brought here. We've actually gotten so crowded that they're going to destroy a bunch of them this weekend, clear out some space."
Marco's eyes widened as he looked at all the crates of guns in organized stacks covering the warehouse floor. "Wait, destroy them? How can they do that?" He hurried to follow Max past the office to a breakroom on the other side.
Max walked over and pulled a couple of mugs out of the cabinet before reaching for the coffee pot. "They won't destroy them all, just the ones that are long enough past their trial that they won't be needed anymore for evidence." He handed Marco a cup and motioned toward the tray with sweeteners and creamers. "I'll let you doctor your own cup."
Marco finished fixing his coffee and joined Max at the table. Max grinned at him. "I know what you're thinking. Why destroy perfectly good guns. Sometimes they are sold to licensed gun dealers and sometimes I guess you could say we recycle them into our own supply of weapons for use by agents. But right now we have an overload of automatic weapons that have no place on the streets, so the decision was made to destroy them." Max shrugged as if he didn't care one way or the other and sipped at his coffee.
Marco nodded, staring into his cup as he thought about the money sitting out there on the warehouse floor. An idea was already forming in his head, but he needed to be careful about how he asked his questions. "This is quite a set up here. I guess it's got pretty good security."
Max snorted and swirled his drink around in the cup. "No one's getting past the three of us during the day," he said, looking up at Marco. "You probably noticed driving in there are no signs telling what this place is. To the average person driving by, it's just another nondescript warehouse so as not to attract unwanted attention. At night we have locks on the gate and the doors, plus an alarm system on the building itself. It's worked so far."
Marco nodded. "Sounds good," he said but he was thinking this was going to be a piece of cake. Now he just had to make friendly conversation so he didn't get Max's suspicions up. Fifteen minutes later, one of the men stuck his head in the door.
"Everything's unloaded. You're good to go."
"Thanks, Carter," Max said.
Marco got up and took his empty cup to the sink. "Guess I'll head back. It was good to meet you."
Max nodded, following him as he headed for the van. "Likewise. Tell Larabee I said to stay out of trouble." He chuckled. "Like that could ever happen."
Marco shook his head. How in the world did the ATF function with all these goofballs running around? And he'd thought the FBI agents were lame. A few minutes later he was on his way back to the ATF. He was so pumped with how happy he was going to make Demarkis that he decided to pull over and call him. If they were going to go after the guns tonight, they didn't have much time to put it together.
oOo
Leaning back in the chair he'd pulled up to JD's desk, Chris crossed his arms and grinned. JD had just finished playing the recording of Marco's phone call to Demarkis for the team. Whatever happened tonight, Marco would not be in the ATF much longer. JD looked like someone had kicked his dog and Chris felt bad for the boy. He was young enough that he still tended to put his heroes on a pedestal and Marco had fallen about as far as one could fall.
Buck, always aware of how his friend was feeling, wrapped an arm around JD's neck. "I know how you feel, pard. He duped both of us. He's just a slick, snake-oil sellin' weasel. But don't you worry none, we're gonna take that pesky varmint down a notch or two."
Ezra's eyebrows rose. "And exactly how many snake-oil salesmen have you dealt with Mr. Wilmington? I thought those particular entrepreneurs to be extinct in our present age."
"Well, heck, Ezra, you got snake-oil salesman in every age. I'd've thought you'd recognize a metaphor when you heard one," said Buck with a grin.
"I know what a metaphor is, Mr. Wilmington, I just wasn't aware that you did. Your descriptions tend to be more on the literal side," said Ezra, straightening his sleeve.
Buck looked to Nathan and Josiah for support. Nathan chuckled and shook his head, pointing to Ezra. "What he said."
"I assume we'll be monitoring the warehouse this evening," said Josiah as he turned to face Chris.
Chris nodded. "Yep. Let's park behind the warehouse next door and walk over before Max closes up. I want us inside and set up long before they get there."
"What about Vin?" asked JD.
Chris sighed. "I'll swing by and get him on my way. If I don't, he'll probably just show up in the middle of things." He grinned, imagining the sharpshooter stalking into the warehouse with guns blazing. "I'll get Team One to be our outside backup. They're about the only other team not swamped with cases right now."
"Their sniper is almost as good as Vin. Might want to poach him to cover inside with us," said Nathan.
Chris frowned, knowing Vin would not appreciate the move, but it made sense. Vin didn't need to be crawling around in the rafters right now. "I'll talk to Akers about it. I don't think he'll have a problem with me using his sniper on this, especially since Vin and Thomas are friends."
They sat in silence for several moments. Chris figured everyone was doing what he was doing, which was thinking of all the things that could go wrong. They needed to work on possible scenarios so they could be prepared for whatever happened.
"Ya know," Buck drawled, "this could get real ugly. And you know how much I –"
"Hate ugly," the rest of them said simultaneously. Buck looked startled and everyone burst out laughing.
Chris stood up and headed for his office. "Grab coffee or a coke or whatever and meet in the conference room in ten. I'm going to call Vin and then we need to make some plans ." He turned around at his office door to face his team. "The better prepared we are, the less ugly for us it will be, so start thinking."
Closing his door, he sat down and dialed Vin. After hearing the familiar voice answer, he leaned back and propped his feet on his desk. "Hey, cowboy, got some good news."
oOo
Vin felt better than he had in weeks and healing wounds were only part of the reason. The giant ball of anxiety that had taken up residence in his gut was finally beginning to dissipate now that the Marco issue was finally coming to a head. Once his distrust of the man had settled in to stay, Vin was constantly worrying that the team would be called in to a bust without reliable coverage from a sniper. Things had just gone downhill from there.
He took one last look at his apartment before he went outside to wait for Chris. He didn't think he'd forgotten anything. Chris was bringing his rifle and his sidearm since he'd picked up his weapons once the police department released them. Grinning, he let himself out the door and locked it. Almost immediately he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Before he could react, a gun was jabbed into his side causing him to drop his cane when he stumbled.
"Going somewhere, Tanner?" Marco. "Don't move just yet," he said as he patted Vin down. "Okay, turn around slowly."
Vin did as he was told and glared at Marco, standing just far enough away it would be fatal to try lunging at the man. "What do you want?"
Marco smirked. "I have a little party later on this evening and I wanted to invite you."
"Yeah, well, I've got dinner plans so I'll have to turn ya down. Maybe later, like after hell freezes over."
Marco chuckled. "You're a regular riot Tanner, you know that? Well, it turns out I really need you to be at this one. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to walk down the steps and out the front door to my car. I'll be right behind you with the gun. If we encounter anyone and you say or do anything to tip them off, I'm shooting them, not you. Got it?"
"I got it," Vin said. Marco motioned to the stairs with his gun so Vin began the trip to the car. All the way down the stairs, he tried to figure out how he was going to get out of this. Maybe he could dodge behind a car in the parking lot. Marco might be dirty, but he was a good enough shot it was going to be hard to get away from him and be alive to enjoy it, especially with his knee aching like it was.
They were just a few steps from the bottom of the stairs when he felt Marco move up close behind him. "Remember what I said."
Miguel came through the front door with his mother, both of them carrying a bag of groceries. Miguel's eyes widened and he whispered something to his mother. Vin wiggled his eyebrows at Miguel and darted his eyes to the side where Marco hovered over him.
"Hey Miguel, Maria. Looks like you guys have been shoppin'."
Maria looked worried, but her voice was solid. "Vin, I see you are recovering from your fall. I am glad to see you getting around better."
Inwardly, Vin sighed in relief that they were playing along. He knew Miguel had recognized Marco by the look in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am, I am. Me and my friend were just going to a party."
"Will your other friend, Chris, will he be there?" asked Miguel.
Vin shrugged. "Don't think he got invited to this one." Marco poked him in the back with the gun. "Well, we gotta go so we ain't late. See ya later."
Miguel and Maria said goodbye and began moving up the steps as Marco practically shoved Vin through the front door. "I guess you did understand," Marco said, keeping one hand on Vin's arm as he pressed the gun to Vin's lower back and pushed him toward the alley beside the building.
"You're a piece of work, Marco, ya know that? Where are we goin' anyway?"
As they approached a white sedan parked in the alley, the trunk popped open. Immediate terror flushed through him like a streak of lightning and he pulled away from Marco with the intent of running. He was not getting in that trunk. That was his last thought as something impacted the side of his head and the world went dark.
oOo
Chris pulled into the parking lot in front of Vin's building, slamming on the brakes as Miguel ran out in front of him. Mumbling a curse under his breath, he rolled the window down since Miguel had rounded the front of the vehicle heading directly for the driver's side.
"Mr. Chris, Mr. Chris, he took Vin."
"What?" Throwing it into park, Chris jumped out of the truck and grabbed Miguel by his upper arms. "Calm down and tell me exactly what happened."
Miguel took a deep breath and nodded. "We were coming inside, me and my mom, a few minutes ago. Vin was coming down the stairs with the man from the other day."
"The man who broke into his apartment and pushed him down the stairs?"
"Yes, that man. He was walking right behind Vin, very close. It was weird. Vin made a face at me, so I acted like I didn't recognize him. Vin said they were on their way to a party. I asked if you were going to be there and he told me you weren't invited. I think Vin was in trouble."
Chris nodded and looked around the lot. "He is. I was supposed to pick him up and he knew that. Besides, he would never go anywhere with Marco willingly." He looked back down at the frightened teen. "Did you see where they went?"
Miguel frowned and shook his head. "Not really. I didn't want my mom to get hurt so I waited until they were out of sight before trying to follow. I know they went around to that side of the building," he said, pointing to the alley. "By the time I looked around the corner, they were gone. I'm sorry, Mr. Chris. I should have gone out sooner."
Chris shook his head. "No, you did the right thing. I don't want you endangering your mother or yourself and Vin would say the same thing."
Miguel nodded and huffed out a sigh. "I know he would say that, but I still wish I had seen more." Suddenly his eyes brightened and he looked back up at Chris. "Wait, when we were walking up to the building, I saw a car parked in the alley. It was white with four doors . . . I am not sure what kind."
"That's okay," Chris said. Marco's car was a red challenger, so obviously he'd gotten a car from somewhere else so it wouldn't be seen here. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Just before you got here. I was trying to figure out how to reach you when I saw you drive up."
"Okay, good. I'll take care of finding Vin. Let me give you my number so you can call if they come back or you see anything else."
Nodding, Miguel pulled out his phone and let Chris plug in his number. "Thanks, Miguel, you've been a huge help. If you hadn't seen Vin, we'd have no idea what happened to him."
"You will find him and bring him home?" the boy asked, his expression hopeful.
"I will. And Marco's going to regret ever messing with Vin and the team, count on it."
Miguel seemed to relax as he nodded. "I trust you, Mr. Chris, because Vin says you are the best." Holding up his phone, he said, "I will let you know if I see anything else."
With a nod, Chris got back in the truck and dialed his phone. "Buck, we've got a problem." Setting the phone aside as Buck's voice came through the truck speakers, he pulled out into traffic. "Marco grabbed Vin from his apartment. Neighbor kid saw a white car, but he's not sure of the make or model. I'm going to drive around here for a few minutes in case they're still close."
"What? Why would he do that?" There was a shuffling noise and then Buck came back on the line. "Ezra says maybe he's going to take Vin to the warehouse and set him up to be the thief."
Chris growled under his breath. "Well, that would make sense and follow his SOP. Vin takes the fall and leaves the way clear for him to be assigned to the team permanently. Trouble is, Vin isn't going to stand by and take the wrap quietly."
"Shoot. You think he means to kill Vin?"
"Kill him and leave his body there. Everyone assumes Vin was on the take and got double-crossed by whoever he was working with. Vin goes down dirty and Marco is free and clear to keep dealing with the devil." Chris tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his anger building to explosive levels. He forced himself to take a couple of slow deep breaths.
The phone connection was silent for so long that Chris wondered if they'd been disconnected. When Buck's voice finally came through, Chris could hear the tight anger in it and that somehow made him feel a little better. "Well, I'd say ole Marco will be lucky if he leaves that buildin' still breathin'. He'd better hope team one gets to him first."
"He'd better not hurt Vin or it won't matter who finds him first. Is everyone on the way to the warehouse?"
"Yeah. You'd better get on over there, pard. We've gotta get into position before Max takes off. You ain't gonna find Vin drivin' around over there. Marco's gonna have to kill him in the warehouse for his plan to work. He'll keep him alive til then."
Chris slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. "Okay, you're right. I'm on my way. But I swear if anything happens to Vin, Marco doesn't leave that building alive."
"There's things worse than death, Chris."
He didn't respond to Buck's attempt to keep him from killing Marco. Huffing out a breath, he said, "I'll be there in a few." Then he disconnected the call. It occurred to him that none of their theorized scenarios accounted for trying to keep Vin from getting killed while taking down the bad guys. Why couldn't anything ever just go according to plan?
oOo
"Get out."
Vin's head snapped up and he blinked, trying to figure out what was going on. His head was pounding so hard that he was sure the pressure was going to push his brain out of his ears. His vision cleared and he realized he was sitting in the back seat of a car, his hands cuffed in his lap. "What happened? How . . . "
"I said get out. Are you deaf or stupid?" Marco sighed and shook his head. "I already explained this to you twice this afternoon, genius. Shake that shaggy head of yours and pay attention."
Squinting against the light, he looked up to find Marco using the gun in his hand to wave him out of the car. "Get out Tanner or so help me, I'll drag you out," the rogue agent growled. Not seeing another option, Vin scooted to the edge of the seat and stepped out of the car, listing immediately to his right to lean on the door frame.
Marco grabbed his arm and shoved him far enough along that he could shut the car door. The lights, he realized, came from a vehicle parked right behind the car. Noting the darkness outside, Vin realized several hours must have passed since Marco had taken him. As the room spun lazily around him, he heard movement from what sounded like several people and low voices. A large form appeared on his right side and grabbed his other arm. Between the two of them, they manhandled him across the room and into an old metal chair sitting against the wall.
Vin was still trying to figure out what was happening when another large man walked up. He first thought it was Josiah because of the man's build and gray hair, but the fancy suit looked more like something Ezra would wear. As the man began speaking, he realized it was Demarkis. Suddenly he recognized where they were – the warehouse.
"I do not want to waste my time on things we cannot make a good profit on, Mr. Valdez. I assume you can procure a list of everything stored here so that we may make efficient use of our time by not having to look in every box."
Marco nodded. "I'll get it, Mr. Demarkis." Looking at the man who had helped wrestle Vin to the chair, he said, "Joe, keep an eye on Tanner for me while I get the inventory for Mr. Demarkis." After he'd dashed into the office, Joe huffed out a breath.
"He think he's in charge of me?" asked the large man, scowling at the traitor's back.
Demarkis chuckled. "He is anxious to impress me. I think Mr. Valdez has a love of money and the things it can buy. We will use him until he becomes an inconvenience and then we will dismiss him . . . permanently."
Joe smirked and nodded. "I want to be a part of that. That guy's a little too impressed with himself."
Demarkis didn't comment, staring down at Vin. Straightening in his chair, he glared at the criminal. "Somethin' you want?"
Demarkis sighed and looked around the warehouse. "I want many things, Mr. Tanner. I want the guns in this place to kick start my business selling weapons. That will make a nice supplement to the drug sales and other ventures I have going." He looked back down at Vin, his expression smug. "And I always get what I want. As your fellow agent has probably told you, you are to take the fall for this little adventure since your reputation is already in question. That will leave Mr. Valdez free to help me in other ways."
"My team won't believe it."
Demarkis laughed. "They will not have a choice. Your body will be found here along with evidence to suggest that the people you sold the weapons to double-crossed you. Since you'll be dead, there will be no one to dispute the evidence."
Marco bounded across from the office and handed a small stack of papers to Demarkis. "Here's the inventory and a map of the warehouse marked with the storage numbers that are printed beside each entry."
Demarkis scanned the paper and smiled. "Excellent, just what we need. Joe, take this to the crew and start loading. I want crates of automatic weapons like we discussed. Let me know if you see anything else that looks interesting." Joe nodded and headed over to the vehicle parked behind the car. Squinting, Vin was able to make out a large truck. The markings on the side indicated it was a bread truck. The corners of his mouth turned up at the thought of the iron-fortified weapons making bread for Demarkis.
"I'm glad you think this is funny, Agent Tanner," said Demarkis. "I'm sure you'll find your execution equally entertaining," he smirked. "Enjoy your last few minutes of life. Watch him, Marco, while I go oversee the procurement of my business assets."
"Sounds like Ezra too," Vin muttered as the well-dressed man walked toward the bread truck. He glanced around the warehouse, trying not to move his head as he looked for any sign of his team. He knew they were here somewhere. He wished he knew where they were and what they were planning. Maybe he could help, or at least not get in the way.
Marco perched one hip on the edge of a metal table shoved against the wall, his gun pointed at Vin. "Well, mister high and mighty Tanner, how far the big hero has fallen."
Vin leaned his head against the wall, staring at Marco. He didn't know how the bust was going to go down, but he could at least keep Marco distracted. "Ya know, I almost feel sorry for you. You could've had a good thing. Gotten yourself assigned to a regular team, been parta somethin' special, somethin' good. Sounds like jealousy and greed got you so tangled up you can't get yourself loose."
Marco's grip tightened and his lips thinned out as Vin spoke. "Shut up, Tanner. You don't know anything. Some of us have had to work for everything we got, we didn't have anything handed to us. I grew up one of five kids with a single mother. We never had much of anything. Well, I sure as heck will have something now."
Vin chuckled. "Seriously? You're blamin' your lyin' and thievin' on bein' poor?"
"I don't expect you to understand. I'll bet you had the perfect parents complete with picket fence and a college fund."
Vin stopped laughing, his expression sobering as his voice became hard. "Oh, yeah, Marco, you've got me pegged. My dad died when I was a baby and my mom died when I was five, barely remember her. Lived with my grandpa on the reservation til he died when I was twelve. From there it was an orphanage and a string of foster homes. I was fifteen when I ran away from the last one because the man got drunk and beat me every three or four days. Yeah, I had a heck of a life."
Marco frowned and Vin enjoyed the confusion he could see clouding the man's eyes. "I was on the streets a couple of years until Miss Nettie took me in, got me back in school. By then I was so far behind there weren't no catchin' up, especially with my dyslexia. That's all part of that golden spoon upbringin' I was treated to. She finally let me quit and helped me get my GED. Then I joined the Army because about the only thin' I was good at was shootin'. You're right, Marco. My life was much easier than yours."
Marco's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He frowned and once again tightened his grip on the gun. "Doesn't matter. You made your choices and I made mine."
"That's right," Vin said, anger pitching his voice low. "It's all about choices, not about what you did or didn't have. So quit blaming your circumstances for your decisions. You tell me how many days you went hungry, how many times you prowled garbage cans for food or a threadbare blanket so you wouldn't freeze, and then maybe we can talk about a lack of options."
"Shut up, Tanner, just shut up," Marco yelled, standing so quickly the metal table legs scraped against the concrete floor. He leveled the gun and Vin was positive he was about to shoot him when raised voices could be heard echoing throughout the warehouse. The only thing Vin heard clearly was ATF. Although the gun was still pointed his way, Marco had turned his head to look toward the noise, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.
Vin shot forward, bringing his cuffed hands up under Marco, forcing his arms up. A shot rang out but fired harmlessly into the ceiling. Vin's forward momentum carried them both to the floor and he heard the gun clatter as it skidded away. As he and Marco grappled on the cold concrete, gunshots rang out across the room. A ricochet sent concrete splinters into their faces and they both automatically turned their heads.
Vin blinked against what he hoped was dust in his eyes as he brought his cuffed hands up to protect his face. Marco rolled them over and pushed Vin away, clamoring to his feet. Rolling to his hands and knees with intention of following, Vin's breath was taken away by a kick that curled up just under his hipbone and threw him back into the table legs.
Blood streamed into his eyes from where the scuffle had opened the wound where Marco had cuffed him earlier. Wiping it away, he used the overturned table to pull himself to his feet. He could still hear shouts and an occasional shot, but his focus was on Marco. As his vision cleared, he saw Marco get into a large sedan parked behind the truck, probably Demarkis' car.
"No, you are goin' down for this if I have to track you to Mexico," Vin muttered as he staggered toward the opening. His foot hit something and knocked it across the floor until it struck the wheel of the truck. Marco's gun.
Smiling, Vin grabbed the gun and began a limping jog toward the open door. He made it outside just as the sedan began picking up speed as it headed for the gate. Planting his feet, he emptied the gun into the tires and back windshield causing the car to careen sideways into the support poles for the gate.
"Vin, you all right?"
Chris appeared beside him, his gun up as he searched the darkness for any threats. Vin dropped his arms, suddenly very tired and very dizzy. "I couldn't let him get away."
Chris stepped in front of him, studying his face. "Couldn't let who get away?"
Vin nodded toward the car and swayed so bad with increasing vertigo that he'd have dropped to the ground if Chris hadn't grabbed his arm. "Whoa, partner, take it easy."
Josiah ran out and looked around before letting his gaze fall on the two men. "Vin, brother, it's good to see you. We were counting on you making an appearance here. You look a little worse for wear though."
"Hey, Josiah. I'm feelin' a mite poorly just now. Would you mind takin' care of Marco for me? He's in that car over there that run itself into the fence."
Josiah grinned, his teeth shining in the light from the open doorway. "I'd be happy to, Vin. Here, let me help you with that." Josiah eased the gun from Vin's hand before pulling keys from his pocket and removing the handcuffs. "There you are. You let Chris get you back inside now, okay?"
"Yeah, I will. Thanks." He looked at Chris and frowned at the way his face seemed to split into two faces and then merge back together. "Quit that, your makin' me dizzy."
Chris frowned, slipping an arm around Vin's waist as he sagged. "What exactly am I supposed to quit doing?"
Vin leaned against Chris, his body aching and his head throbbing. He was pretty sure Chris had asked him a question, but he couldn't remember what it was. The edges of his vision began going dark and his legs felt like jello. "Think I might need . . . to sit down." Strong arms supported him as the darkness closed in and shut everything else out.
oOo
Monday, June 4
Vin listened to the soft rustling sounds for several seconds before he realized he was awake. Keeping his breathing even, he surveyed his senses to help him figure out where he was. Whispered voices. Something soft beneath him. Pain in his head, an ache in his side, and a small pinch in the back of his hand. Antiseptic smells. Hospital?
"I think Junior's playin' possum." That sounded like Buck.
Movement at the edge of the bed, near his arm. "I think you might be right." Chris.
Vin furrowed his brow slightly as he tried to convince his eyes to open. After a few moments, Chris came into view, smirking down at him. "There he is. You with us this time?"
"Think so," he mumbled, his voice rough. A humming noise was followed almost instantly by the head of the bed raising. The next thing he knew a straw poked him in the lip.
"Here, take a few sips of water." Blinking, he stared at the straw for a moment before obeying. After a few sips, Chris pulled the cup away. Vin coughed and tried to clear his throat of the gunk it felt like had taken up residence there.
Chris and Buck held a short conversation with each other while Vin cleared the cobwebs from his mind and tuned in to listen. Marco's name caught his attention. "Wait . . . what?"
Buck chuckled. "Oh, now you pay attention."
Vin frowned at Buck and then moved on to Chris. "Wait, what's goin' on? How long have I been here?" Bits and pieces of being kidnapped by Marco and the subsequent fiasco in the warehouse flashed through his head. "Shots, there were shots. Everyone okay?"
Chris pushed him back when he tried to sit up. "Take it easy, pard, everyone is fine. Demarkis and his goons, what's left of them, are behind bars. He gave up pretty easily once Marco took off in his car, figured his fancy lawyer will get him off. Marco's upstairs in the prison ward with a shoulder wound from you and a broken nose from the airbags. He'll be transferred tomorrow."
"Good . . . that's good," Vin slurred, blinking sleepily. His head throbbed and he decided he wanted to go back to sleep.
"Hey, cowboy, keep your eyes open a few minutes," said Chris, chuckling.
Vin tried glaring at the man, but with his head aching and his brain sluggish, he didn't think he pulled it off. "Why? Head hurts somethin' fierce."
Chris and Buck's expressions sobered and they exchanged a look before meeting his eyes again. "Because you took another blow to the head from Marco and it caused some bleeding in the brain. They had to keep a pretty close eye on you for a while. It looks like it's resolved itself, but the doc said if you woke up to keep you awake and talking for a few minutes if we could. You gave us a bit of a scare."
It took Vin a moment to process all of Chris's words. After a moment, he gave a tiny nod. "Okay. What's a while? How long I been here?"
Buck rubbed his head. "Well, let's see. The warehouse thing was Friday night about midnight and it's now Monday mornin' about 10:30. You been kinda in and out since yesterday, but not like you was really awake or knew what was goin' on. Just kinda opened your eyes, rolled 'em around a bit, and closed 'em again."
Chris nodded. "Kind of worrisome to be honest. It's good to see you coherent finally. Doctor said we couldn't all be here cluttering the place up, so we've been switching off in pairs since Saturday afternoon."
Vin felt the corners of his mouth turn up, almost on their own volition. It always warmed him to know these men were willing to sit around watching his back. Although he never expected it, at least it had stopped surprising him. His head didn't seem as troublesome now as he thought about Marco getting his just desserts and him here with friends watching over him.
"Vin, that's an awful big grin you're totin' there. Care to share?" asked Buck, his eyes twinkling like he knew exactly what Vin was smiling about.
Vin smirked at the ladies' man. "I was just wonderin' how many of them pretty nurses you been wooin' is all."
Buck's grin widened. "You know ole Buck. I got a couple of 'em eatin' outta the palm of my hand."
Chris barked out a laugh. "More like trying to bite your hand."
Buck frowned, putting his hand over his heart. "You wound me pard."
The door opened before Chris could respond. The men parted for an attractive nurse with dark blonde hair pulled back in a French braid. She had gray-blue eyes and smiled when she saw that Vin was awake. "Well hello there, Mr. Tanner. I'm Kayla and I'm your nurse today. It's nice to finally see those beautiful blue eyes of yours."
"It's just Vin, ma'am. I ain't no mister."
Kayla chuckled as she took hold of his wrist. "Okay, Vin, then. I'm just going to take your vitals."
Chris moved back against the wall to give her more room, but Buck continued to stand next to her as she took Vin's pulse and blood pressure. Vin noticed her frown at the big man a couple of times, but Buck was oblivious. If Vin's head didn't hurt so bad, he would've laughed out loud.
When the nurse went to move around the bed to check the IV, Buck moved the same direction she did causing them to collide. She huffed out an angry breath as he apologized.
"Sir, could you possibly wait over there until I finish checking Mr. uh, Vin. I can't move with you right under my feet."
Buck backed up next to Chris. "Why certainly, darlin'. I'll just get out of your way and maybe later, when you're done with your shift, I can apologize properly by buyin' you dinner. I know this romantic little Italian place you'd just love."
Kayla checked his IV bag and port. "How's the headache?"
Vin shrugged. "It's there, but not too bad."
Looking back at him, she smiled. "How about I get you some pain medication now that you're awake. And maybe some juice."
Vin smiled back at her, enchanted by her silky voice and her honest concern. "I'd be much obliged, ma'am."
Laying her hand on his shoulder, she said, "I'll make a deal with you. You don't call me ma'am and I won't call you mister, okay?"
Vin could feel the heat in his cheeks as he stammered out, "Sure, okay, we can do that. Thank you, Kayla."
Patting his arm, she nodded. "Good. I'll be right back."
As she went back around the bed, Chris grinned at Vin while Buck just looked dismayed. Kayla stopped right in front of the door and turned to face the ladies' man. "In case you were wondering, that's a solid no on the dinner invitation." With a huff, she threw the door open and left.
Vin almost felt sorry for Buck with his crushed expression and his sad eyes. Almost. He sighed audibly. "I guess she was one of them biters, huh Buck?"
oOo
Wednesday, June 20
Setting the boxes of donuts on the table, Vin began getting the coffee started. The office was silent except for sounds of his work. He picked up the open coffee can and inhaled deeply. He'd always loved the smell of coffee. Once he'd set the two pots to gurgling, he leaned against the counter and smiled in contentment. He was back.
He'd spent yesterday getting the correct form releasing him from the doctor's care and requalifying on his rifle, then getting everything turned in to the right people. Today was his first full day of active duty in what seemed like forever. He'd had worse injuries with longer recuperation times, but Marco had made this journey seem so much worse. On the surface, he knew his team would not betray and replace him like that, but his past fed that little voice in his head that advised him to never trust again or he would get burned. He hated that voice.
"Hey, cowboy. Itching to get started?"
Vin jerked his head up, chastising himself for woolgathering instead of paying attention. The smirk Chris was wearing announced that the man knew what had just happened. "Sneakin' up on folks before they've had their coffee ain't nice, cowboy."
Chris's brow furrowed. "Don't call me cowboy."
"Likewise. Coffee's almost done. And yes, I made a pot of dirty dishwater for those of you who can't stomach the good stuff."
Chris sauntered over and stood in front of Vin, his arm outstretched. Vin cocked his head and looked down, reaching out to grasp his friend in a forearm lock. The returning grip was strong and Vin looked up to meet Chris's eyes.
"Good to have you back where you belong."
The words were simple, but the eyes said so much more that Vin found himself unable to speak for a moment. Chris waited patiently, a hint of a smile telling Vin that he knew what was going on. But then, when didn't he? This man could read him like no other.
"Thanks," Vin said when he finally found his voice. "It's really good to be back." He tried to convey how true that statement was with both his voice and his eyes. Chris gave a short nod that told him he'd succeeded.
They separated and began filling their cups as the gurgling came to an end. Chris motioned toward the table. "I see you brought donuts. That should put everyone in a good mood."
Vin shrugged. "I was hungry so it sure put me in a good mood to bring them. Any news on Demarkis or Marco?"
Chris rubbed his face. "Demarkis refused to say anything, just like we figured, but he turned a little green as we outlined all the evidence we have to him and his lawyer. I think they'll be busy trying to figure out how to get him out before he dies of old age. On top of the recording at the warehouse, the search warrant yielded a computer with some pretty damaging evidence."
"Marco?" Vin wanted to forget Marco ever existed, but he wanted to be sure he was going away for all the stuff he'd done first. Chris looked down at his coffee in a way that made Vin nervous. "Chris?"
Huffing a breath, Chris brought his eyes up to meet Vin's. "Marco cut a deal." He held up his hand when Vin opened his mouth to protest. "Not that kind of a deal. He's still going to jail and for a long time. We told him we were onto him for all that prior stuff, setting up other cops to take the fall and selling information. When we started shelling out details he got scared. So he offered to confess to everything and clear the names of people he'd set up, along with providing the names of other law enforcement people who are dirty if we didn't charge him with any of the prior crimes. But he's going down for kidnapping and attempted murder of a federal officer along with several other charges."
After a pause, Chris scowled at the cup in his hands. "I wanted to keep gathering evidence and nail him for everything he's done, lock him up for good. But the DA wanted his testimony against Demarkis and the people upstairs wanted the names of the other dirty cops."
Vin nodded, his gut churning at the thought of Marco getting away with actions that had cost the careers of some good men and the lives of others. But he also understood the need to clean house. "I guess getting' bad cops off the street where they can't cause more senseless deaths is a good thing."
Chris gave him a tight smile. "I guess. On the plus side, he'll spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder after testifying against Demarkis. The man has a lot of money and a lot of friends. And when Marco does finally get out, he'll be starting from scratch since his overseas retirement account has been confiscated." His eyes glinted as they met Vin's again. "He may actually find out what it means to be hungry."
Vin froze, remembering what he'd said in the warehouse and that it had been recorded. Heat rose up his neck as he thought about all the eyes that would see and hear his rendition of his childhood. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut?
Chris's hand on his arm brought his eyes up. "Don't be sorry about the things you said. It took the wind out of his excuses and it showed that a good man can overcome his circumstances. It's like you said, we all have choices and we have to take responsibility for the ones we make. You made a lot of good choices and I'm proud to call you my friend. Now pick that head up and be proud of who you are, Vin Tanner."
The moment of horror passed with Chris's assurances and Vin thought about what he'd said. He was proud of what he'd become, in spite of bad circumstances that were beyond his control. He'd had some bad times, but he'd had some good times too. His mother and his grandfather had instilled a sense of honor and integrity in him that bad foster homes and time on the streets could not take away. He grinned at Chris, his shoulders relaxing at the warm gaze that met him.
"I'm a Tanner."
Chris returned the grin and nodded. "You sure are."
They both looked toward the door as a ruckus from down the hall began getting louder and louder. Chris sipped his coffee and sighed. "Sounds like Buck and JD are here."
"Yep," Vin said, grinning broadly as the feeling of being home grew. It was probably weird to feel this way since he'd been back on desk duty for the last week, but there was something about knowing he was ready for whatever presented itself during the day that made it seem real. If they got a call, he could go and watch their back. That knowledge had vanquished the tension that had kept his body almost rigid the whole time he sat his desk.
Chris stepped out the break room door as the scuffling and arguing reached the bullpen. With a wink at Vin, he turned to face the noise with the Larabee glare and a voice that was just as stern. "What's going on out here? This is the office of a federal law enforcement agency and as such, I expect a little more professionalism here. Is that clear?"
The office became dead quiet so that Vin could hear the refrigerator running. He found that he had unwittingly straightened to attention at Chris's lecture and snorted in amusement. He could hear apologies coming from his two rambunctious teammates and he thought he heard Josiah's deep voice make a comment.
After another few seconds of silence, Chris relaxed and grinned, pointing into the breakroom. "Our guardian angel from on high is back to full duty and he brought donuts." There was a brief pause where he knew the guys were trying to figure out what the trick was, and then the room filled with people who were talking and laughing, congratulating him on being back, and loading their plates with donuts.
Vin watched it all with a grin on his face and smile in his heart. No one could replace any of his brothers and he thought, just maybe, they felt the same way about him.
THE END