Chapter 25

Chris had texted the men that morning, told them not to come into the office. It wasn't so much an act of kindness for the men who had been staying at Buck's all weekend, riding out Morgan's drug induced mania, as much as self-preservation. Trying to preserve the team. It would be better for everyone to have some space after the weekend.

But that would only last so long. They'd have to occupy the same space at some point. Like tonight, at the club.

Chris glanced at the clock. It was almost seven pm. He paced across the empty bullpen. The elevator dinged its arrival and Chris looked across the after hours space.

Buck and JD got out of the elevator. Buck gave Chris a hard look. Chris didn't flinch. He deserved it. He deserved whatever Buck came at him with.

Buck stopped in front of Chris. He didn't say anything and Chris braced himself.

"I know how Morgan is—how she can be," Buck finally said. Chris could see how much the words cost him.

"She didn't do nothin' wrong," Chris said, all the self-recriminations there to cut him off at the knees. "I know how she can be, too."

Buck shook his head once. "But I know you, Larabee. You wouldn't…She knows how to push buttons."

That much they could agree on.

"Get your wire from JD," Chris instructed him, cutting Buck off before he could apologize for anything they had said earlier. Chris had deserved it all. They could move on. "You're going in with—" he stared at his undercover agent coming into their office as if everything was normal. And it was, if Chris looked past the black eye and the line of butterfly bandages holding together a nasty looking cut on his temple. "—Ezra."

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra said cordially.

Chris was about to ask him what the hell happened to his face when Vin came in silently, going to his desk and taking his seat. Vin's jaw was a dramatic shade of purple, his lip cut open. Vin didn't look at Chris. He reached a hand out to take the earpiece JD was handing to him.

"No," Chris said.

JD paused. Chris jerked his chin to signal to JD to take the earpiece to Ezra.

"Vin's not goin' in lookin' like that."

Vin set his jaw and looked at Chris then. "I can go in."

Chris snorted. "You could. Ezra could. But not together. You don't think two of their regulars comin' in with matchin' bruises is going to draw attention? Attention that could blow Ezra's cover."

Vin's jaw clenched harder. "I need to be there," he said firmly.

Chris narrowed his eyes at him. "Why's that? You and Ezra want to fill the rest of us in on what the hell's going on in that club?"

Josiah had come in with Nathan behind him. He took the stand off in stride, but Chris was aware of how he stayed close, ready to intervene.

Vin looked over at Ezra. Chris couldn't decipher the look they exchanged, but Vin looked like his mind was made up.

"Buck—" Vin said.

Ezra's dummy phone rang. The room went silent. The only people Ezra was giving that number out to were the men involved with the guns and the strip club.

Ezra glanced at the number and put on a smile.

"That was quick," he said, sounding relaxed. At ease like a southern gentleman with too much money and an interest in illegal firearms. "Tonight?" Ezra said. "I'm not certain that will work as I've already made plans. There's a lovely young lady I told…" he trailed off, listening. Chris had seen Ezra work enough times to know what he was doing. Always refuse the first important meet. Act as if it was a low priority. It kept the target from growing suspicious.

"Now?" Ezra asked. He glanced at the rest of the team. "The lady I have plans with is…well that is intriguing…" Ezra listened. "If you can accommodate me then I'll be there." He disconnected his call.

"They bringin' you in?" Chris asked. It would be a relief if Ezra was brought into the illegal dealings this soon. There were times he had worked a target for months before he had even a hint of success. The sooner they could build their case and make arrests, the sooner he could get Ezra and Vin out of the strip club and whatever was going on in there.

"We'll be talking over their business offerings tonight. One of the higher ups will be there to discuss their firearms business."

Chris gave a sharp nod. Good.

Ezra tucked the burner phone into the pocket of his suit coat. "I need to get over there immediately. They promised personal entertainment from the ladies if I could arrive quickly." He grimaced slightly and there was that look between him and Vin again. But they didn't say anything once again. "I'll keep you apprised of the deal," Ezra told Chris. He headed for the elevator.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Buck asked, taking the earpiece that JD had taken back from Vin. He tucked it into his ear. "I'm gonna need a lot of dollar bills, Chris. Can't be sittin' in there and not payin' the girls for their work."

"Buck—" Vin said again.

"It's ok, Vin," Buck said with a wink. "I know those girls will miss you, but I'll keep 'em company till you can go back." He snatched his keys from his desk and tossed them in the air, catching them before he pocketed them and jogged to catch the elevator with Ezra, whistling as he went.

Vin set his jaw. He looked at Chris and the look in his eyes made it clear whatever he was about to say wasn't something Chris was going to like.

"It's Morgan," Vin said.

Chris waited.

Lines of tension framed Vin's mouth. "She works there. In the club."

It was a blow right to Chris' chest. He shut down his emotions, anything to keep from processing what Vin had said. He couldn't. Not now. Not with Buck on his way to the club.

"She works there," Chris repeated tonelessly. She tended bar. She cleaned. Maybe she didn't—

"She waitresses," Vin said. "And dances. Private dances," he clarified. His eyes hardened. Chris could see what it had cost Vin to sit in that club watching Morgan give lap dances.

"Buck," Chris said. Damn it. Buck was on his way over there. If he saw his sister working there—or worse, dancing there, draping herself over some man—they ran the risk of endangering their entire undercover operation. Not to mention the risk of Buck ending up in jail for the scene he was likely to cause. Chris exhaled forcefully. "Josiah." He looked over at the profiler. "You need to get in there and get Buck out. Keep him under control."

Josiah nodded without a word. He got up and followed the route Buck and Ezra had taken.

That left Chris with Nathan, JD, and Vin. They would get in the surveillance van and get back over to the club. It was late. The club would already be crowded and hopefully Josiah could get Buck before he even got inside. If not, they would all be ready to do what they had to in order to protect Buck, Ezra, and Morgan.

Chris just hoped Morgan wouldn't do anything to make things worse than they already were.

#

Morgan tried to focus on the drink orders the men said. Her head still felt hazy, her limbs heavy. She should have called in sick, but then that would mean claiming defeat. Confessing that those guys forcing her to take meth had screwed things up for her, and there was no way she was admitting that.

She gave one of the men an unimpressed look when he tried to slap her thigh as she walked past, glaring at him with more venom than she normally would.

Her black fringed skirt swung as she went to the bar and pulled the drinks the men had ordered. She stood, putting the bottles on her tray and Lindy picked the tray up.

"Blitz wants you," Lindy said.

Morgan looked up toward the VIP section. Her shift was almost over. She hoped it wasn't Ezra up there tonight. She just needed to put in a little more time and then she could go collapse on Cobra's couch. Not that Cobra and his couch was an improvement over being at the club.

Morgan let Lindy take the tray of drinks without argument. She didn't bother to adjust the cropped and low cut t-shirt she wore. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, ready to deal with whatever Blitz needed then get out of there.

Lei was setting drinks in front of Blitz, another man Morgan hadn't seen in the club before, and Ezra. Morgan saw Lei's gaze soften slightly when she gave Ezra his drink and hoped Blitz didn't notice, but Lei quickly composed her expression back to her usual serene mien and Ezra kept his face neutral.

"What do you need?" Morgan asked, managing to keep her annoyance at bay enough to avoid riling up Blitz.

"Our friend here came in special tonight as a favor for me," Blitz said with a nod toward Ezra. "Cancelled on his lady friend and everything. I told him I'd make sure we made it up to him."

Morgan could imagine what making it up to Ezra meant. She ground her molars together.

"I could use a shot," the other man at the table said, looking away from the dancers on stage and giving Morgan a perfunctory once over. "Have her get us some shots first."

Blitz nodded and looked over at Morgan. When she didn't move, he raised his eyebrows at her.

Holding back a sigh, Morgan headed back down across the bar, her knee high heeled boots only slightly more comfortable than the spike heels she normally wore.

She went back to the bar and pulled out an empty tray, setting it on the counter and grabbing a bottle and three shot glasses.

She hoped Blitz choked on his drink.

#

Buck paused long enough to turn on his ear piece.

"Can you hear me, JD?" he asked.

"Buck!" JD exclaimed, making Buck wince at the sudden burst of noise in his ear. "Come over to the van. We just pulled up. Don't go in the club."

Buck chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. I can hear you fine. Just stop yellin' and there's nothing to fix on the wire." He pushed open the door to the club and strolled in. He glanced around like he was looking for a place to sit, but was looking for Ezra, getting the lay of the land.

"Buck," Chris' voice came through the earpiece. "Get out of there."
Buck was careful not to show anything in his expression. "Ezra in trouble?" he asked quietly, looking down at his boots to cover his talking.

"Ezra's fine, but I'm pullin' you out," Chris said.

Buck frowned. "I ain't leavin' Ezra at this first meetin' with the gun deal and no back up."

"Hey brother," Josiah's voice was low, but carried over the pounding music. He dropped a hand on Buck's shoulder.

"What's goin' on?" Buck demanded. "We can't leave Ezra here."

Josiah motioned his head toward the door. "We can talk outside."

Buck shook his head. There was no way he was leaving Ezra with no one to watch his back. He had no idea what was going on, but the memory of Ezra nearly getting a knife in his back during a meeting with the cartel kept Buck moving toward an open table. He had been there to stop the drug cartel member from stabbing Ezra that time and that memory wouldn't let Buck leave the club without Ezra.

He sat down and angled his chair toward the stage with a good view of Ezra in a VIP section across the bar, Josiah doing the same.

"There's a complication," Josiah said.

Buck smiled at a waitress and flagged her over.

"Ezra being in here alone is a complication," Buck said.

Josiah leaned his elbows on the table, moving closer to Buck. "It's about—"

"Morgan?" Buck said.

She was passing their table in a black leather skirt that barely hit the top of her thighs, and a t-shirt that didn't cover much more, carrying a tray of shot glasses.

She whipped her head around at his voice, the drinks rattling before she adjusted her grip and steadied the tray.

"Let's all keep calm," Josiah said.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" Buck demanded.

Morgan's hands tightened on her tray. She looked at Josiah, then visibly steeled herself and looked at Buck.

"Working," she said.

Buck started shaking his head. Like hell she was working here.

"We're getting outta here. Now," Buck said, giving Morgan a look that said he wasn't going to listen to any arguments.

A strip club. His little sister was waitressing in a strip club. Wearing next to nothing and dodging the eager hands of every fool there.

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him.

"Morgan," he said.

She pursed her lips, a determined glint lighting her eyes. And then she gave him a silent dare to stop her and turned and continued on her way.

"Don't," Josiah said.

"I can't let her just…just…parade around here like that," Buck spluttered.

Josiah lowered his voice and moved his head closer to Buck. "And if you make a scene, you're going to draw attention to her. Attention from some dangerous men."

Buck had raised out of his seat a few inches, but Josiah's words stopped him. He wouldn't do anything that would put Morgan in danger. He lowered himself back into his seat, his fingers curled around the edge of the table in a death grip.

He watched Morgan sashay her way to the far side of the bar, up some stairs to the shadowed VIP section where Ezra sat. She set the drinks down. Relief had Buck loosening his grip on the table. She was Ezra's waitress. Nothing would happen while she was with Ezra.

One of the men said something to Morgan. Even from this distance, he could see Morgan look over Ezra like she was appraising him, then turn slightly away from him. Buck could swear she met his eyes from across the club and gave him a silent message to get lost, then sank down on Ezra's lap.

A strangled sound escaped Buck's throat and whatever Josiah was saying to keep him calm was lost somewhere behind the fury that was building in Buck.

#

Chris turned in his seat in the surveillance van and speared Vin with his eyes. "Morgan's in there?" he ground out.

Vin hesitated a beat, then gave a single nod, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"That's what you and Ezra were hiding?" Chris demanded, his voice getting quieter as the anger built. Anger at Vin, at Ezra, for keeping something like this from the team. Anger at Morgan for making another reckless choice.

Vin didn't answer, just held his gaze. And Chris could see how worried Vin had been about Morgan. The weight this secret of Morgan's had pu ton him.

Buck's words carried through the van, demanding that Morgan leave with him. Chris didn't need to hear her response to know what her answer was.

He slammed a hand against the wall of the van, making JD jump. The sound echoed through the van.

"I'm goin' in there," Vin said.

"Sit. Down," Chris ordered.

For a second, he thought Vin was going to disobey a direct order.

"If you go in there with your face looking like that, you're gonna draw attention. To Ezra, not just you. To Morgan." Just saying her name as part of the mission made his chest burn.

Vin knew he was right. Chris could see it. Chris kept his eyes on him until Vin finally took his seat again.

Chris made an effort to get himself under control. He was the team leader. It was his responsibility to keep the operation moving forward and get his men out of there safely. And now to keep Morgan safe.

"Buck," Chris said into the microphone. "Calm down," he ordered, his words harsh as he tried not to think of all the ways he had missed the signs. Missed seeing what Morgan was doing. Missed seeing how he had let this happen to her.

#

Ezra wasn't amused. In his earpiece, he could hear Chris instructed Buck to stay calm, but Chris sounded anything but calm, himself.

Morgan sat on his lap and tilted her head back alongside his.

"Ready for another lap dance?" she whispered to him, her jawline set in anger.

"I'm not ready to be used in whatever message you are trying to convey to your brother," Ezra whispered back into her ear, brushing her hair away from her shoulders lightly, making sure it looked like a flirtatious whisper should Blitz or his gun supplier look in their direction.

She moved her lips closer to his ear, to the communication device hidden there, and whispered, "Enjoying the show, Buck? You going to have him tell you all about it later, Chris?"

Ezra was thankful Morgan couldn't heard the string of words Chris responded with.

Morgan turned her head enough to meet his eyes and Ezra saw the flecks of gold that glinted toward anger in her eyes, but it wasn't enough to hide the shame.

He hated what he was about to say. He kept a light hand on Morgan, just enough to feel if her muscles tensed, if she was going to hit him or run, or launch into whatever move she might decide on to infuriate Buck, and turned to Blitz.

"What are my options if I wanted to have a dance in a more private location?" Ezra asked.

He felt the immediate tightening in Morgan's shoulder, felt her hold her breath.

"On the house," Blitz said, taking an unconcerned drink from his glass. "Take her wherever you want."

"Well then," Ezra said, allowing his eagerness to get Morgan—and Buck—out of there before anything could blow up, to come across as his desire for taking advantage of what Blitz was offering Morgan up for. "I have some ideas." Like getting Morgan out of there as quickly as possible.

"Let's deal with business so you can move onto pleasure," Blitz said. Blitz grinned and nodded at the other man at the table. The other man had a harder edge to him and eyed Morgan and Lei.

"They're nobodies," Blitz assured the man.

Ezra felt Morgan's entire body tense in anger. He tightened his grip on her briefly, a silent message to not draw the attention of the man who was more dangerous than the strip club manager. He could feel the effort it took for her to relax against him and turn her eyes toward the stage, like she could care less what was happening around her.

"They know not to remember anything they see here," Blitz said, directing his words at Morgan and Lei, not bothering to hide the silent threat.

Lei gave a subservient nod. Morgan rolled bored eyes over to Blitz and raised an eyebrow that clearly communicated she could care less about anything he said or did.

Blitz gave the arms dealer a single nod. Ezra couldn't shut the deal down now. Not without blowing the case or, worse, raising suspicion and getting himself and Morgan hurt. He'd have to play this out with Morgan right there.

The man pulled a case out from under the table. Keeping it low, he opened it.

Ezra leaned forward to inspect the guns. Not for purchase. For warrants. To know exactly what they would be up against, what part of their information had been accurate, and how big this operation might really be.

"My contacts in Mexico and Chicago would appreciate the caliber of weapon you have to offer," he said mildly, knowing these were guns that shot bullets that could pierce through a bullet proof vest. Guns made to target law enforcement.

He heard Buck curse and knew things had just gone from bad to worse for Morgan. She was fully enmeshed in the dealings of the club now. There was no easy way to get her out of this.

"How many can you supply?" Ezra asked. "I want to make sure I can get a return on my investment that makes this worth my time."

"As many as your customers need," the dealer said. "I got a warehouse with a thousand of these, a few hundred of these," he tapped the guns he was talking about. "And some heavier firepower if that's what you're interested in."

Ezra pretended to consider it.

"You buy enough, I'll give you a good price," the dealer said.

"I'll need to see the rest of the merchandise before I give you any reimbursement," Ezra finally said. "Those are large quantities you're promising. I would need to make sure you can supply them."

The dealer looked at Blitz. Blitz gave him a single nod.

"I'll be in touch," the dealer said, closing his case.

"I'll be waiting for your call," Ezra said. "In the meantime," he shifted his attention back to Morgan, "I intend to make the most of tonight."

He gave Morgan his hand, waited for her to stand on her spiked heels and then stood. "It was a pleasure, gentlemen," he said, shaking each man's hand.

He put his arm lightly around Morgan and started to guide her out of the VIP section. He chose a course to avoid Buck and Josiah's table, silently hoping Josiah would get Buck to stay still and not make it obvious they were leaving the club because with any connection to Ezra and Morgan.

"We'll go to my place," Ezra said to Morgan. Anywhere but here, and he certainly wasn't bringing her anywhere near the apartment or the men he had found her with the other night.

Morgan stopped in the locker room to get her things, but didn't change. Ezra got the feeling she was also hoping to make an escape before Buck could catch up to them.

"We'll meet you there," came Buck's voice in Ezra's ear.

Ezra grimaced. The night was not going to end well.

#