Chapter 2: Departure
Author's note: more problems with Sam's family. Thanks to Mog for this universe.
Disclaimer: the norm
Review: please
~~
Ezra's eyes drooped. The Ace of diamonds fell from his grasp and slid to the floor of the Jag. He sighed quietly. He had been sitting in the damn car for more than three hours without moving. HE was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the small car and his right leg had a cramp he couldn't work out.
His head jerked up moments before it would have hit the steering wheel. He took another sip from the coffee cup on the dashboard and grimaced. The Espresso had long since gone cold, and without the comforting heat of the steaming liquid the drink held little appeal.
He set his cards aside and began to drum the steering wheel with his fingers. "What's with you Hunter? Why here? Why tonight?" he mumbled over and over to himself.
Sam watched the technologies building with increasing anxiety. What if she had been wrong? What if it wasn't really Tom she had seen, but rather some distorted figment of her imagination. It didn't matter really; she just had to know for sure either way, alive or dead. The scene of her car becoming a massive firebomb kept running through her head. She could almost feel the heat from the flames as they licked over the frame of the classic Mustang.
Losing Tom had been too much. Too much stress, too much for an already bad year. So she had run, away from her problems and away from her family. Unfortunately though, she had run from the frying pan into the fire. She had lost nearly ten years working for the CIA. She didn't expect Team Seven to understand, not really anyway, for as much as she liked them all, they weren't her family. And blood is thicker than water after all.
She almost missed him, the tall, dark figure creeping away from the technologies building. She stiffened in her seat, her eyes following the man as if locked on him. She still couldn't see well enough to make out his face. He loaded his bag into the back of a two door sedan parked down the street. He started it without turning on his lights and began to coast away. Sam revved her engine and followed a safe distance behind. She didn't notice the Jag.
The wove slowly through the streets of Denver, and somewhere along the way three police cars sped by in the opposite direction, no doubt responding to some silent alarm the burglar had tripped.
They drove to the outskirts of the city, a neighborhood to run down to even be called a slum. All but the barest of life was left on the street. Homeless beggars huddled around fires in trash cans, having been moved away from the warm public buildings in the middle of the city. The sedan pulled in between a wrought iron gate that hung halfway off its hinges. Sam parked across the street and jumped out.
She trotted into the courtyard between two abandoned apartment buildings. The dark figured moved ahead of her, a broken streetlight illuminating his back briefly. He rounded a corner. Sam moved faster.
She turned the corner to find herself in a deserted alleyway. Weeds sprouted up, vines weaving their way up the crumbling brick frame. Her shoulders slumped forward. She lost him.
Something hit her from behind, hard. She flew forward with a grunt, bracing her arms in front of her as she hit the wall. Her hands flew to her gunbelt and she drew the weapon with lightening speed, just as Buck had shown her. Her attacker halted. She waved him out toward the courtyard, where there was more light. She breathed quickly and felt her heart pound inside her chest.
"Sammy?" The voice came from underneath the dark hood. "Is that really you?" Sam choked, her eyes filling with tears. The voice was older to be sure, but it was the same voice that she had imprinted on her memories. The man drew back the hood.
Her tongue flicked out over her lips and her hand lowered. "Tom. Oh God I was right." She lifted a quivering hand to his cheek. "I don't believe it. I didn't think I'd ever find you, I gave up hope."
"I guess you never thought I'd find you either," the southern accent dripped with sarcasm. He leaned casually against the brick wall. "Once a criminal, always a criminal, right Hunter?"
Sam spun, raising the gun. "Ezra, you don't know what you're doing."
"No my dear, I know exactly what I am doing. It is you that has no conception of your actions. Now put the gun down so that I may arrest him." His voice held no hint of jest. He seemed serious, almost sad.
"Is this joker a friend of yours Sammy?"
"In a manner of speaking Tom. What are you going to arrest him for Ez?"
"Aiding a criminal for one. He was there in the hotel after all. Do you want me to continue? This list is quite long. Now put down the gun before you do something you may regret."
Ezra held out his hand and took a step forward. He stopped suddenly when he heard the weapon being cocked. Sam shook her head. All signs of trepidation had fled her eyes. "I have come to regret a lot in my life Ez, but I can tell you right now that I won't regret this. Now back the fuck off."
She nodded toward Tom, "Get out of here. I'll hold him." The lanky young man moved to go past the federal officer. Ezra shifted. "Don't think I won't do it Ez. Go Tom, now." He ran off at a dead sprint. Ezra tensed, and the shot rang through the air.
--
"You shot me," Ezra stated incredulously.
Sam tucked her gun back into its holster and stalked past the undercover agent. "I didn't shoot you Ez, I shot at you. There is a difference. And I told you not to move." She held her hands loosely at her sides, the fight rung out of her.
Ezra eyed the hole in the cinders next to his left ear. "Not by much," he muttered. "It's not like there's a tremendously large difference. An inch or two, maybe."
"Than you should be glad I'm a good shot." Chris tried to move past Ezra. He grabbed her arm as she walked past.
"Tell me why I shouldn't arrest you right now. Aiding and abedding a criminal. Not to mention the fact that you drew a weapon on a federal agent. Overall I'd say you haven't been very smart concerning your friends as of late." His voice was hard.
"You know Ez, for a guy who was just shot, you complain an awful lot." Sam growled. She jerked her arm out of his grip and pushed him aside. Keeping her eyes open, she made her way through the courtyard toward her car.
Ezra jogged to catch up with the angry woman. He settled beside her, matching her every stride. "I have my reasons Ezra, and they don't concern you." She responded to his unasked question. Sam walked a little faster. "How did you even find me?"
"I tailed you genius. You weren't even looking. I'm an undercover agent. I'm trained to follow people without them noticing. And if I remember correctly, you were more than adequately trained to spot tails. So much for that little nugget of schooling."
Sam bristled. Her anger began to rise. She spun to face him, her face beet red. "Do you have any idea how you sound? You lying, hypocritical rat! You claimed to trust me. Then you follow me. I think I missed the trust aspect of that scenario. Well, have fun trying to tail me now!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Her frustrations and anger were pouring from her.
Ezra jumped as the shot shredded through one of the front tires on his car. The second shot took out the rear wheel. Ezra swore loudly. After gawking for a moment he looked for Sam. Unfortunately, she had already run across the street. She ignored Ezra's calls. Sam jumped into her car and tore down the street, tires screaming.
--
He was in her apartment when she got there, waiting. He had changed out of his pure black attire into jeans and a shirt. "I can't believe its really you."
Sam smiled and sidled over to him. "Didn't I already say that?"
"Yeah, but it deserves to be said again. Jesus Sammy, it's been so long." He stood slowly, his eyes running over her form from head to toe. One corner of Sam's mouth twitched in a half smile.
He came right up to her, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her close. She let him, and she hugged him fiercely back. She breathed in his smell, like freshly cut grass. Her eyes squeezed shut. "I thought you were dead," she murmured.
"Wait," Tom sounded puzzled. He propped Sam back so that he could look her in the eyes. "Me dead? I thought you were dead."
"Huh?"
"The blast knocked me flat, and I guess I blacked out. When I came to I was in the hospital and Tony was there. He told me you were killed in the blast. I thought that was strange, because I remembered you being behind me, but everything was so fuzzy."
"Tony told you that? That's insane. I went right to him after it happened. I didn't want to stick around you know, with the cops everywhere. I left Chicago right after that, and headed to New York. I wanted, something else. I figured everything would be fine."
Tom shook his head. "Everything was definitely not fine. Tony took over, or at least tried to. The family was too bitter and it fell apart. No one wanted an outsider running things. No one listened to him. It would have been different if your parents had asked him to take over, but that didn't happen. I went to Europe for a few years after that, to get away from Chicago, from Tony, and from your ghost."
"I am not a ghost, I'm right here. But why would he have done that? This all seems so strange to me. He knew my parents didn't want him to run the business. I want to talk to him. Do you know where he is?" An idea had trickled into the back of her mind. It was a dark idea, and one she didn't want to entertain, but one that would gnaw at her until she sought its answer.
Tom nodded. "Yeah, but he'll wait."
"For what?"
"For this." Tom leaned closer, his lips gently brushing hers. Sam's heart beat wildly. He had been her first love, and there was nothing like kissing your first love.
Sam opened her mouth, but there was a sharp rap on her door. Sam groaned, letting her head fall back against Tom's chest. "Ugh, he's early. You need to hide Tom, go back into my bedroom and be quiet. Please?" Tom frowned for a moment, then nodded and moved into the darkness of the next room.
He pounded on her door again. Her head felt ready to split open. "It's open!"
Ezra barged into her living room. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he bellowed. Sam winced and sunk lower into her pillows. "Do you have any idea how long it took to even get a tow truck? In the meantime, the local flavor is eyeing my car like a pack of starving vultures. I ought to haul your butt into jail myself. Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"
"Well maybe if you could stop flapping your gums for five seconds I could get a word in. It's not like I asked you to follow me. And you know what..." Sam jumped up from the couch to face his verbal onslaught. The angry tirade she had prepared faded from her lips. "Forget it, you wouldn't believe me anyway."
"Right Hunter. Isn't that convenient? I can't believe I actually trusted you, that we all trusted you."
"You don't understand. Tom was my best friend, my family. I have so much to ask him, to tell him. And he's not a bad guy."
"No, just a thief and a con. What does he want from you anyway? Help for some job?"
"Not some job," a body materialized behind the voice. Tom had his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "I love her." Sam blinked.
Ezra snorted. He didn't really seem all that surprised. "You don't even know her. How could you after so long?"
Tom stepped behind Sam, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Because I always have. And I always will. And why did you come here?"
Ezra pulled the metallic object from his breast suit pocket. He held the badge loosely between his fingertips. "I came to give you this back." He set the badge on the table next to him. "Maybe when you figure out exactly who you are and what you stand for you'll be able to wear it again. Right now I don't think you know a damned thing. You're caught between two worlds Hunter and you need to make a choice. Until you do though, I don't want to see you." He nodded curtly and walked out of the apartment, descending the stairs two at a time.
Sam moved away from Tom and she picked up the badge hesitantly. Two lives, one choice. Her fingers slid over the intricate lines that were edged into the metal. She swallowed hard and looked at Tom. He nodded. "I have to go now," she whispered.
"I know. You're the same as always Sammy, and that's why I love you. And that's why I know you're leaving. This is it."
She strode over to him and kissed him. "We're not in the same place Tom, and we don't want to be. At least we get to say goodbye this time. But do me one last favor?"
"Anything."
"When you go back, talk to the family. I want you to take over. Tell them my parents and I finally made our choice." She moved away, first at a walk and then faster, needing to catch Ezra before he left in his car. She jumped down the last half flight of stairs.
She saw Ezra ambling slowly toward his Jag two blocks farther down the street. She broke into an unhurried jog. Then she saw what Ezra couldn't, the inky black car creeping toward him from behind. Her hands flew to her side, but she had left her weapon on her dresser. "Ezra!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.
The southerner turned, but it was too late. Three men jumped from the crawling vehicle. Ezra managed to hold off one, but he was no match for all three. They hustled him into the sedan at gunpoint.
Sam sprinted after them for a moment, not caring that it was pointless. The sedan tore around a curve, its tires screaming and disappeared. She stopped then, stumbling into a walk. She panted, hands resting on her knees. She stared at the point where the car had disappeared.
Footsteps trotted up behind her. It was Tom. "I saw what happened. Wasn't that..."
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "That was Tony's car. He did it, didn't he? He killed my parents because he wanted power and clout. He wanted to rise in the hierarchy. But even with my parents out of the way I didn't name him as their successor, so he decided to get rid of me. He thought that would be it, but he never counted on how important my parents were, did he?"
Tom stared at her open mouthed. "I don't know. I mean, I never thought about it. I know he always wanted to be more important, for people to take notice."
"He was a grandstander. That's exactly why my parents didn't want him."
"You were his last shot Sammy. He's been a little weird ever since you left. I think he blamed you for not getting his five minutes."
"And now he wants to get to me by getting to my friends. If he thinks I'm just gonna lie down while he destroys everything then he has another thing coming." She tore her keys from her pockets. She turned quickly, striding toward her car.
Tom trailed after her. "Well what are you going to do? Sam?"
"I'm getting my friend back. He'll have his five minutes of fame all right. Because I'm going to let every mobster in Chicago know what he did. Personally I think all the attenion's gonna kill him."
"You're going to need help," Tom called after her.
"I know six guys who want their shot at him. They don't like it when people fuck with their own." She jumped into the Corvette and revved the engine. Tom jumped into the seat next to her. "What are you doing?"
"I know where he is Sam."
"I can't ask you to betray him."
Tom grinned. "You didn't ask. You'll want this." He handed her the pistol she had left in her apartment.
"All right then. Dial up the ATF and tell team 7 where we're headed." The needle on the speedometer jumped to fifty and they left Westminster behind them.
--
A den of snakes awaited them. Scarpelli's men slithered around the building, shooting Sam dirty looks and whispering. They made her skin crawl. Although all were armed they let Sam and Tom past without a word. Sam kept her eyes forward and her head up.
"Scarpelli," she boomed upon entering the warehouse. No one answered. Her voice reverberated on the empty room, with its high walls and ceiling. Hazel eyes spit fire. "Come out you spineless worm. I thought you were my friend. My parents though you were a friend. But when it comes right down to it I guess friendship doesn't hold a candle to wealth and power. My parents were good to you, you son of a bitch!"
The echo faded and the air remained still. No one came out. Sam stepped forward into the middle of the room and picked up a steel pipe, swinging it with all her might against a support beam. The crash was deafening. "I know you're hear. You know you didn't have to kidnap Standish. I would have come anyway you know, just to get at you before the rest of the syndicate does. When all is said and done you're going to be very popular."
A dark figure stepped onto a platform from the second floor. "Who says you're even leaving here today my dear?" Scarpelli's discourse floated down to her.
"I do. Because you won't kill me like you want to Scarpelli."
"And why is that?"
"My seven friends will destroy this place, arrest your associates, and generally kick your ass. And because I'm going to kill you first."
"Six friends if I have the count right," Tony corrected her. "I believe the seventh is with me."
"Wrong again Tony. You forget about Tom."
"Tom? Ah yes, the turncoat. You'll try to destroy me, after everything I've taught you?"
Tom nodded. "You made me believe she was dead. Now where is Standish."
"Right in front of you if I'm not mistaken. Come ahead and bring him out Kevin." A beefy auburn haired man shoved the small Standish into the light at the far end of the room. He looked horrible, his hair tussled and dirty, his face smeared by dirt and his general façade bloodied and bruised. His hands were tied securely behind his back.
Despite his outward appearance, the undercover agent maintained a cocky attitude. "Reinforcements are on the way, I presume?"
The first shot rang outside. Kevin and Tony both looked startled. "I think they're already here," she called out cheerily. "It's over Tony, give it up.
"They won't penetrate my forces. It's not over till I see you bleeding out upon the concrete. The man I hired to take you out the first time did not do his job."
"So that was you? I should have known. A real thief wouldn't have taken the custom jewelry. Too hard to pawn. You didn't kill me then. Now you have another shot. What are you waiting for?"
"Not a damn thing. Kill them both!" Men poured from the woodwork, all carrying loaded weapons. Kevin drew a small Luger, pointing it at the back of Standish's head. Sam pulled her gun.
"Ezra, get down!" Her aim was true. As Ezra dived to the side behind a stack of crates, Sam's bullet found its mark. Kevin went down hard. "Find cover Tom."
Just then team Seven poured like a tidal wave into the building. Josiah and Nathan positioned themselves at the door, offering cover to their partners. JD and Buck moved as a single unit, each man protecting the other. Vin materialized on the second floor, his sniper rifle poking out between the slats of the railing. Chris made his way to Ezra.
Sam's gaze was locked on Scarpelli. She fired several times, but she didn't have the angle she needed. Scarpelli fired from his advantageous perch. There was a cry behind her, and the sound of someone falling. She turned. Tom was lying behind her, hands on his chest, and looking at her with wild eyes. "NO!"
Sam spun and dragged Tom behind a small wall. She pulled his hands away from his chest. Within just a few seconds the blood had covered every part of his shirt, pooling down beneath his body. His hand touched her face. "You're all we've got left now. Sorry I can't finish that favor. Guess your choice just got made for you."
"I'd live with sleepless nights the rest of my life rather than this. Jesus Tom, I just got you back."
"Saying hello and goodbye seems to be quite the habit with us, eh Sammy?"
"I hate that habit," she managed to choke out.
"I love you. Now go get him."
"I love you too." His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became ragged. She felt his heart weaken beneath her fingertips and finally stop. She swore softly. Then, wiping her tears from her eyes she loaded another clip into her weapon. She saw Scarpelli head for the stairs that led to the roof. She went after him.
Team Seven whole once more, moved like a machine, sweeping through the ranks of Scarpelli's men with ease. Most were dead, arrested or pleading for mercy in the space of five minutes. Their teamwork was poetry in motion.
Sam bounded up the steps two at a time. Her intent was not to capture Scarpelli, but to kill him. Never before had she tasted blood lust like she did right then. She burst out the door to the roof and scoped the area.
She didn't see Tony immediately. But Tony saw her. He was ready for her. He knew she would come. He aimed his weapon at the door. Sam burst through. He fired.
Sam felt the bullet tear through her knee. Her leg buckled and she crashed to the ground, her pistol skittering away from her on the roof top. Tony approached slowly. Sam writhed on the ground in agony. She forced herself to will away the pain, something she had learned to do in the hospital after being shot. She focused the pain, using the rush of adrenaline to clear her mind. Her right hand crept down to her boot.
Tony looked down at his protégé. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Sam, Sam , Sam, I would have thought you would put up a better fight. So disappointing." He raised his gun, "Any last words?" Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear what she said.
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you." Sam beckoned him closer with her left hand. Tony, as cocky and sure of himself as always leaned closer. "Come again?"
Sam's fingers closed around his lapels. She focused her eyes upon him and he saw a rush of pure, unadulterated hatred in them. "I said rot in hell," she snarled. Sam drove the knife upward, piercing his soft midsection. Scarpelli howled and weakened, allowing Sam to roll away and drive the knife further into his gut. The con man collapsed, wheezing as blood filled his lungs. He died there a short while later.
Sam struggled to her feet, the bloody blade still clasped in her hands. She looked down at the man in disgust. "You always did talk to much Tony." With that, the blade slipped from her fingers and clattered to the roof. She turned and limped back inside.
--
"Hello? Hunter are you in here?" Ezra stuck his head into the apartment. Sam had been away from the office for three weeks, letting her leg heal. She was due to come back the next day.
The woman appeared a moment later, still limping slightly and hefting a cardboard box. Her eyes raised to meet his. She set the box on the kitchen table. "Afternoon Ez." She stuffed a pile of clothes haphazardly into the box.
"What are you doing?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Packing."
"Well yes, I realize that. What I meant is why? Did you find someplace in the city?"
She stopped then, her hands bouncing lightly on the cardboard. She couldn't look him in the eye. "No Ezra. Not in the city, at least, not in Denver."
"Elaborate my dear, for I am still far from comprehension."
"I'm not coming back Ezra. To the ATF I mean. Here, I was going to send it to you." She held out the billfold that held her badge. "This time it's for good."
"You're quitting again? Don't you realize what a good thing you have here?"
Sam pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know that I'm about to leave the best thing that ever happened to me. And will you give this frame back to Vin. I just want the picture and I swiped it off his desk a few days ago." She held up a picture of the Seven on one of their yearly fishing trips. Ezra took the frame.
"And yet you still will leave. And go back to what? If you go back everything you have done, accomplished, means nothing. Not leaving the first time, not your work in the CIA, Bartlett's pardon, it's all for naught."
"I met you all didn't I? I wouldn't say that was for naught. You're the best people I've ever met. But I need to go back. I need to go back and fix what I made wrong. I can't let my family go on hating each other because I was too spineless to do anything. Try to understand."
"And you were just going to leave, without a word?"
"I hate goodbyes."
"Well I'm not letting you go that easy. You're going to say goodbye to everyone before you leave, and hear some words against it I'm sure. We'll get everyone together at Inez's. And besides, I fear that if I am the one to tell Mr.Larabee of your departure, he may decide to kill the messenger."
Sam shrugged. "Ok. But uh, would you mind getting one last box from my bedroom? It's still to heavy for me." Ezra nodded. "Thanks."
The southerner went into the room, but he didn't see anything. The bed was made, and the closet cleared out. He didn't see a box. He came out after searching for a moment. "I didn't see anything Hunt...." His voice trailed off. She wasn't there. He trotted to the window just in time to see the metallic blue Corvette weave its way into traffic. His shoulders slumped.
He turned back to the table. There was a note on it. He unfolded it and began to read slowly.
~~This is a letter to the members of the Denver ATF's Team 7. I should be on my way to Chicago by the time you read this. Please don't think too badly of me for not saying goodbye in person. But I figured that leaving this place and all of you was going to be hard enough without having to look you in the eyes too.
I can't really say what you all have meant to me, and I'm sorry that my path in life has led me away. (I figure that's philosophical enough for you Josiah.) I'll always remember you and what you did for me. I wrote this poem about you, and although I'm no Emily Dickinson, please bear with me.
A broken heart
A bleeding heart
A heart that cannot heal
A virtuous heart
A fighting heart
A heart that's made of steel
A foolish heart
A flirting heart
A heart with a lover's zeal
An open heart
A loving heart
A human heart that steals
A surgeon's heart
A healing heart
A heart that truly feels
A spiritual heart
A knowing heart
A heart to which you kneel
A courageous heart
A cunning heart
A heart with an unbroken seal
All these hearts
Are human hearts
Hearts I know are real
Ezra closed the note. Then he left the apartment, turning off the light behind him. He knew that the others wouldn't be happy, but they would get through it, together, like they did everything else.
--
Sam left Denver the way she had come into it, zipping along I-25 with the top down and her hair billowing in the wind. She didn't know what lay ahead for her, or what could have lay behind. Her head bobbed along to rock music that blared form her stereo. And the picture of the Seven set so precariously on top of the box of clothes fluttered and caught in the wind. It sailed out of the car and settled on the asphalt of the highway, as if to beckon her to return.
The End
Sorry this was so long in coming. And I realize that this was probably not my best work, but I needed a way to write Sam out. Thanks for reading.
Author's note: more problems with Sam's family. Thanks to Mog for this universe.
Disclaimer: the norm
Review: please
~~
Ezra's eyes drooped. The Ace of diamonds fell from his grasp and slid to the floor of the Jag. He sighed quietly. He had been sitting in the damn car for more than three hours without moving. HE was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the small car and his right leg had a cramp he couldn't work out.
His head jerked up moments before it would have hit the steering wheel. He took another sip from the coffee cup on the dashboard and grimaced. The Espresso had long since gone cold, and without the comforting heat of the steaming liquid the drink held little appeal.
He set his cards aside and began to drum the steering wheel with his fingers. "What's with you Hunter? Why here? Why tonight?" he mumbled over and over to himself.
Sam watched the technologies building with increasing anxiety. What if she had been wrong? What if it wasn't really Tom she had seen, but rather some distorted figment of her imagination. It didn't matter really; she just had to know for sure either way, alive or dead. The scene of her car becoming a massive firebomb kept running through her head. She could almost feel the heat from the flames as they licked over the frame of the classic Mustang.
Losing Tom had been too much. Too much stress, too much for an already bad year. So she had run, away from her problems and away from her family. Unfortunately though, she had run from the frying pan into the fire. She had lost nearly ten years working for the CIA. She didn't expect Team Seven to understand, not really anyway, for as much as she liked them all, they weren't her family. And blood is thicker than water after all.
She almost missed him, the tall, dark figure creeping away from the technologies building. She stiffened in her seat, her eyes following the man as if locked on him. She still couldn't see well enough to make out his face. He loaded his bag into the back of a two door sedan parked down the street. He started it without turning on his lights and began to coast away. Sam revved her engine and followed a safe distance behind. She didn't notice the Jag.
The wove slowly through the streets of Denver, and somewhere along the way three police cars sped by in the opposite direction, no doubt responding to some silent alarm the burglar had tripped.
They drove to the outskirts of the city, a neighborhood to run down to even be called a slum. All but the barest of life was left on the street. Homeless beggars huddled around fires in trash cans, having been moved away from the warm public buildings in the middle of the city. The sedan pulled in between a wrought iron gate that hung halfway off its hinges. Sam parked across the street and jumped out.
She trotted into the courtyard between two abandoned apartment buildings. The dark figured moved ahead of her, a broken streetlight illuminating his back briefly. He rounded a corner. Sam moved faster.
She turned the corner to find herself in a deserted alleyway. Weeds sprouted up, vines weaving their way up the crumbling brick frame. Her shoulders slumped forward. She lost him.
Something hit her from behind, hard. She flew forward with a grunt, bracing her arms in front of her as she hit the wall. Her hands flew to her gunbelt and she drew the weapon with lightening speed, just as Buck had shown her. Her attacker halted. She waved him out toward the courtyard, where there was more light. She breathed quickly and felt her heart pound inside her chest.
"Sammy?" The voice came from underneath the dark hood. "Is that really you?" Sam choked, her eyes filling with tears. The voice was older to be sure, but it was the same voice that she had imprinted on her memories. The man drew back the hood.
Her tongue flicked out over her lips and her hand lowered. "Tom. Oh God I was right." She lifted a quivering hand to his cheek. "I don't believe it. I didn't think I'd ever find you, I gave up hope."
"I guess you never thought I'd find you either," the southern accent dripped with sarcasm. He leaned casually against the brick wall. "Once a criminal, always a criminal, right Hunter?"
Sam spun, raising the gun. "Ezra, you don't know what you're doing."
"No my dear, I know exactly what I am doing. It is you that has no conception of your actions. Now put the gun down so that I may arrest him." His voice held no hint of jest. He seemed serious, almost sad.
"Is this joker a friend of yours Sammy?"
"In a manner of speaking Tom. What are you going to arrest him for Ez?"
"Aiding a criminal for one. He was there in the hotel after all. Do you want me to continue? This list is quite long. Now put down the gun before you do something you may regret."
Ezra held out his hand and took a step forward. He stopped suddenly when he heard the weapon being cocked. Sam shook her head. All signs of trepidation had fled her eyes. "I have come to regret a lot in my life Ez, but I can tell you right now that I won't regret this. Now back the fuck off."
She nodded toward Tom, "Get out of here. I'll hold him." The lanky young man moved to go past the federal officer. Ezra shifted. "Don't think I won't do it Ez. Go Tom, now." He ran off at a dead sprint. Ezra tensed, and the shot rang through the air.
--
"You shot me," Ezra stated incredulously.
Sam tucked her gun back into its holster and stalked past the undercover agent. "I didn't shoot you Ez, I shot at you. There is a difference. And I told you not to move." She held her hands loosely at her sides, the fight rung out of her.
Ezra eyed the hole in the cinders next to his left ear. "Not by much," he muttered. "It's not like there's a tremendously large difference. An inch or two, maybe."
"Than you should be glad I'm a good shot." Chris tried to move past Ezra. He grabbed her arm as she walked past.
"Tell me why I shouldn't arrest you right now. Aiding and abedding a criminal. Not to mention the fact that you drew a weapon on a federal agent. Overall I'd say you haven't been very smart concerning your friends as of late." His voice was hard.
"You know Ez, for a guy who was just shot, you complain an awful lot." Sam growled. She jerked her arm out of his grip and pushed him aside. Keeping her eyes open, she made her way through the courtyard toward her car.
Ezra jogged to catch up with the angry woman. He settled beside her, matching her every stride. "I have my reasons Ezra, and they don't concern you." She responded to his unasked question. Sam walked a little faster. "How did you even find me?"
"I tailed you genius. You weren't even looking. I'm an undercover agent. I'm trained to follow people without them noticing. And if I remember correctly, you were more than adequately trained to spot tails. So much for that little nugget of schooling."
Sam bristled. Her anger began to rise. She spun to face him, her face beet red. "Do you have any idea how you sound? You lying, hypocritical rat! You claimed to trust me. Then you follow me. I think I missed the trust aspect of that scenario. Well, have fun trying to tail me now!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Her frustrations and anger were pouring from her.
Ezra jumped as the shot shredded through one of the front tires on his car. The second shot took out the rear wheel. Ezra swore loudly. After gawking for a moment he looked for Sam. Unfortunately, she had already run across the street. She ignored Ezra's calls. Sam jumped into her car and tore down the street, tires screaming.
--
He was in her apartment when she got there, waiting. He had changed out of his pure black attire into jeans and a shirt. "I can't believe its really you."
Sam smiled and sidled over to him. "Didn't I already say that?"
"Yeah, but it deserves to be said again. Jesus Sammy, it's been so long." He stood slowly, his eyes running over her form from head to toe. One corner of Sam's mouth twitched in a half smile.
He came right up to her, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her close. She let him, and she hugged him fiercely back. She breathed in his smell, like freshly cut grass. Her eyes squeezed shut. "I thought you were dead," she murmured.
"Wait," Tom sounded puzzled. He propped Sam back so that he could look her in the eyes. "Me dead? I thought you were dead."
"Huh?"
"The blast knocked me flat, and I guess I blacked out. When I came to I was in the hospital and Tony was there. He told me you were killed in the blast. I thought that was strange, because I remembered you being behind me, but everything was so fuzzy."
"Tony told you that? That's insane. I went right to him after it happened. I didn't want to stick around you know, with the cops everywhere. I left Chicago right after that, and headed to New York. I wanted, something else. I figured everything would be fine."
Tom shook his head. "Everything was definitely not fine. Tony took over, or at least tried to. The family was too bitter and it fell apart. No one wanted an outsider running things. No one listened to him. It would have been different if your parents had asked him to take over, but that didn't happen. I went to Europe for a few years after that, to get away from Chicago, from Tony, and from your ghost."
"I am not a ghost, I'm right here. But why would he have done that? This all seems so strange to me. He knew my parents didn't want him to run the business. I want to talk to him. Do you know where he is?" An idea had trickled into the back of her mind. It was a dark idea, and one she didn't want to entertain, but one that would gnaw at her until she sought its answer.
Tom nodded. "Yeah, but he'll wait."
"For what?"
"For this." Tom leaned closer, his lips gently brushing hers. Sam's heart beat wildly. He had been her first love, and there was nothing like kissing your first love.
Sam opened her mouth, but there was a sharp rap on her door. Sam groaned, letting her head fall back against Tom's chest. "Ugh, he's early. You need to hide Tom, go back into my bedroom and be quiet. Please?" Tom frowned for a moment, then nodded and moved into the darkness of the next room.
He pounded on her door again. Her head felt ready to split open. "It's open!"
Ezra barged into her living room. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he bellowed. Sam winced and sunk lower into her pillows. "Do you have any idea how long it took to even get a tow truck? In the meantime, the local flavor is eyeing my car like a pack of starving vultures. I ought to haul your butt into jail myself. Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"
"Well maybe if you could stop flapping your gums for five seconds I could get a word in. It's not like I asked you to follow me. And you know what..." Sam jumped up from the couch to face his verbal onslaught. The angry tirade she had prepared faded from her lips. "Forget it, you wouldn't believe me anyway."
"Right Hunter. Isn't that convenient? I can't believe I actually trusted you, that we all trusted you."
"You don't understand. Tom was my best friend, my family. I have so much to ask him, to tell him. And he's not a bad guy."
"No, just a thief and a con. What does he want from you anyway? Help for some job?"
"Not some job," a body materialized behind the voice. Tom had his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "I love her." Sam blinked.
Ezra snorted. He didn't really seem all that surprised. "You don't even know her. How could you after so long?"
Tom stepped behind Sam, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Because I always have. And I always will. And why did you come here?"
Ezra pulled the metallic object from his breast suit pocket. He held the badge loosely between his fingertips. "I came to give you this back." He set the badge on the table next to him. "Maybe when you figure out exactly who you are and what you stand for you'll be able to wear it again. Right now I don't think you know a damned thing. You're caught between two worlds Hunter and you need to make a choice. Until you do though, I don't want to see you." He nodded curtly and walked out of the apartment, descending the stairs two at a time.
Sam moved away from Tom and she picked up the badge hesitantly. Two lives, one choice. Her fingers slid over the intricate lines that were edged into the metal. She swallowed hard and looked at Tom. He nodded. "I have to go now," she whispered.
"I know. You're the same as always Sammy, and that's why I love you. And that's why I know you're leaving. This is it."
She strode over to him and kissed him. "We're not in the same place Tom, and we don't want to be. At least we get to say goodbye this time. But do me one last favor?"
"Anything."
"When you go back, talk to the family. I want you to take over. Tell them my parents and I finally made our choice." She moved away, first at a walk and then faster, needing to catch Ezra before he left in his car. She jumped down the last half flight of stairs.
She saw Ezra ambling slowly toward his Jag two blocks farther down the street. She broke into an unhurried jog. Then she saw what Ezra couldn't, the inky black car creeping toward him from behind. Her hands flew to her side, but she had left her weapon on her dresser. "Ezra!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.
The southerner turned, but it was too late. Three men jumped from the crawling vehicle. Ezra managed to hold off one, but he was no match for all three. They hustled him into the sedan at gunpoint.
Sam sprinted after them for a moment, not caring that it was pointless. The sedan tore around a curve, its tires screaming and disappeared. She stopped then, stumbling into a walk. She panted, hands resting on her knees. She stared at the point where the car had disappeared.
Footsteps trotted up behind her. It was Tom. "I saw what happened. Wasn't that..."
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "That was Tony's car. He did it, didn't he? He killed my parents because he wanted power and clout. He wanted to rise in the hierarchy. But even with my parents out of the way I didn't name him as their successor, so he decided to get rid of me. He thought that would be it, but he never counted on how important my parents were, did he?"
Tom stared at her open mouthed. "I don't know. I mean, I never thought about it. I know he always wanted to be more important, for people to take notice."
"He was a grandstander. That's exactly why my parents didn't want him."
"You were his last shot Sammy. He's been a little weird ever since you left. I think he blamed you for not getting his five minutes."
"And now he wants to get to me by getting to my friends. If he thinks I'm just gonna lie down while he destroys everything then he has another thing coming." She tore her keys from her pockets. She turned quickly, striding toward her car.
Tom trailed after her. "Well what are you going to do? Sam?"
"I'm getting my friend back. He'll have his five minutes of fame all right. Because I'm going to let every mobster in Chicago know what he did. Personally I think all the attenion's gonna kill him."
"You're going to need help," Tom called after her.
"I know six guys who want their shot at him. They don't like it when people fuck with their own." She jumped into the Corvette and revved the engine. Tom jumped into the seat next to her. "What are you doing?"
"I know where he is Sam."
"I can't ask you to betray him."
Tom grinned. "You didn't ask. You'll want this." He handed her the pistol she had left in her apartment.
"All right then. Dial up the ATF and tell team 7 where we're headed." The needle on the speedometer jumped to fifty and they left Westminster behind them.
--
A den of snakes awaited them. Scarpelli's men slithered around the building, shooting Sam dirty looks and whispering. They made her skin crawl. Although all were armed they let Sam and Tom past without a word. Sam kept her eyes forward and her head up.
"Scarpelli," she boomed upon entering the warehouse. No one answered. Her voice reverberated on the empty room, with its high walls and ceiling. Hazel eyes spit fire. "Come out you spineless worm. I thought you were my friend. My parents though you were a friend. But when it comes right down to it I guess friendship doesn't hold a candle to wealth and power. My parents were good to you, you son of a bitch!"
The echo faded and the air remained still. No one came out. Sam stepped forward into the middle of the room and picked up a steel pipe, swinging it with all her might against a support beam. The crash was deafening. "I know you're hear. You know you didn't have to kidnap Standish. I would have come anyway you know, just to get at you before the rest of the syndicate does. When all is said and done you're going to be very popular."
A dark figure stepped onto a platform from the second floor. "Who says you're even leaving here today my dear?" Scarpelli's discourse floated down to her.
"I do. Because you won't kill me like you want to Scarpelli."
"And why is that?"
"My seven friends will destroy this place, arrest your associates, and generally kick your ass. And because I'm going to kill you first."
"Six friends if I have the count right," Tony corrected her. "I believe the seventh is with me."
"Wrong again Tony. You forget about Tom."
"Tom? Ah yes, the turncoat. You'll try to destroy me, after everything I've taught you?"
Tom nodded. "You made me believe she was dead. Now where is Standish."
"Right in front of you if I'm not mistaken. Come ahead and bring him out Kevin." A beefy auburn haired man shoved the small Standish into the light at the far end of the room. He looked horrible, his hair tussled and dirty, his face smeared by dirt and his general façade bloodied and bruised. His hands were tied securely behind his back.
Despite his outward appearance, the undercover agent maintained a cocky attitude. "Reinforcements are on the way, I presume?"
The first shot rang outside. Kevin and Tony both looked startled. "I think they're already here," she called out cheerily. "It's over Tony, give it up.
"They won't penetrate my forces. It's not over till I see you bleeding out upon the concrete. The man I hired to take you out the first time did not do his job."
"So that was you? I should have known. A real thief wouldn't have taken the custom jewelry. Too hard to pawn. You didn't kill me then. Now you have another shot. What are you waiting for?"
"Not a damn thing. Kill them both!" Men poured from the woodwork, all carrying loaded weapons. Kevin drew a small Luger, pointing it at the back of Standish's head. Sam pulled her gun.
"Ezra, get down!" Her aim was true. As Ezra dived to the side behind a stack of crates, Sam's bullet found its mark. Kevin went down hard. "Find cover Tom."
Just then team Seven poured like a tidal wave into the building. Josiah and Nathan positioned themselves at the door, offering cover to their partners. JD and Buck moved as a single unit, each man protecting the other. Vin materialized on the second floor, his sniper rifle poking out between the slats of the railing. Chris made his way to Ezra.
Sam's gaze was locked on Scarpelli. She fired several times, but she didn't have the angle she needed. Scarpelli fired from his advantageous perch. There was a cry behind her, and the sound of someone falling. She turned. Tom was lying behind her, hands on his chest, and looking at her with wild eyes. "NO!"
Sam spun and dragged Tom behind a small wall. She pulled his hands away from his chest. Within just a few seconds the blood had covered every part of his shirt, pooling down beneath his body. His hand touched her face. "You're all we've got left now. Sorry I can't finish that favor. Guess your choice just got made for you."
"I'd live with sleepless nights the rest of my life rather than this. Jesus Tom, I just got you back."
"Saying hello and goodbye seems to be quite the habit with us, eh Sammy?"
"I hate that habit," she managed to choke out.
"I love you. Now go get him."
"I love you too." His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became ragged. She felt his heart weaken beneath her fingertips and finally stop. She swore softly. Then, wiping her tears from her eyes she loaded another clip into her weapon. She saw Scarpelli head for the stairs that led to the roof. She went after him.
Team Seven whole once more, moved like a machine, sweeping through the ranks of Scarpelli's men with ease. Most were dead, arrested or pleading for mercy in the space of five minutes. Their teamwork was poetry in motion.
Sam bounded up the steps two at a time. Her intent was not to capture Scarpelli, but to kill him. Never before had she tasted blood lust like she did right then. She burst out the door to the roof and scoped the area.
She didn't see Tony immediately. But Tony saw her. He was ready for her. He knew she would come. He aimed his weapon at the door. Sam burst through. He fired.
Sam felt the bullet tear through her knee. Her leg buckled and she crashed to the ground, her pistol skittering away from her on the roof top. Tony approached slowly. Sam writhed on the ground in agony. She forced herself to will away the pain, something she had learned to do in the hospital after being shot. She focused the pain, using the rush of adrenaline to clear her mind. Her right hand crept down to her boot.
Tony looked down at his protégé. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Sam, Sam , Sam, I would have thought you would put up a better fight. So disappointing." He raised his gun, "Any last words?" Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear what she said.
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you." Sam beckoned him closer with her left hand. Tony, as cocky and sure of himself as always leaned closer. "Come again?"
Sam's fingers closed around his lapels. She focused her eyes upon him and he saw a rush of pure, unadulterated hatred in them. "I said rot in hell," she snarled. Sam drove the knife upward, piercing his soft midsection. Scarpelli howled and weakened, allowing Sam to roll away and drive the knife further into his gut. The con man collapsed, wheezing as blood filled his lungs. He died there a short while later.
Sam struggled to her feet, the bloody blade still clasped in her hands. She looked down at the man in disgust. "You always did talk to much Tony." With that, the blade slipped from her fingers and clattered to the roof. She turned and limped back inside.
--
"Hello? Hunter are you in here?" Ezra stuck his head into the apartment. Sam had been away from the office for three weeks, letting her leg heal. She was due to come back the next day.
The woman appeared a moment later, still limping slightly and hefting a cardboard box. Her eyes raised to meet his. She set the box on the kitchen table. "Afternoon Ez." She stuffed a pile of clothes haphazardly into the box.
"What are you doing?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Packing."
"Well yes, I realize that. What I meant is why? Did you find someplace in the city?"
She stopped then, her hands bouncing lightly on the cardboard. She couldn't look him in the eye. "No Ezra. Not in the city, at least, not in Denver."
"Elaborate my dear, for I am still far from comprehension."
"I'm not coming back Ezra. To the ATF I mean. Here, I was going to send it to you." She held out the billfold that held her badge. "This time it's for good."
"You're quitting again? Don't you realize what a good thing you have here?"
Sam pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know that I'm about to leave the best thing that ever happened to me. And will you give this frame back to Vin. I just want the picture and I swiped it off his desk a few days ago." She held up a picture of the Seven on one of their yearly fishing trips. Ezra took the frame.
"And yet you still will leave. And go back to what? If you go back everything you have done, accomplished, means nothing. Not leaving the first time, not your work in the CIA, Bartlett's pardon, it's all for naught."
"I met you all didn't I? I wouldn't say that was for naught. You're the best people I've ever met. But I need to go back. I need to go back and fix what I made wrong. I can't let my family go on hating each other because I was too spineless to do anything. Try to understand."
"And you were just going to leave, without a word?"
"I hate goodbyes."
"Well I'm not letting you go that easy. You're going to say goodbye to everyone before you leave, and hear some words against it I'm sure. We'll get everyone together at Inez's. And besides, I fear that if I am the one to tell Mr.Larabee of your departure, he may decide to kill the messenger."
Sam shrugged. "Ok. But uh, would you mind getting one last box from my bedroom? It's still to heavy for me." Ezra nodded. "Thanks."
The southerner went into the room, but he didn't see anything. The bed was made, and the closet cleared out. He didn't see a box. He came out after searching for a moment. "I didn't see anything Hunt...." His voice trailed off. She wasn't there. He trotted to the window just in time to see the metallic blue Corvette weave its way into traffic. His shoulders slumped.
He turned back to the table. There was a note on it. He unfolded it and began to read slowly.
~~This is a letter to the members of the Denver ATF's Team 7. I should be on my way to Chicago by the time you read this. Please don't think too badly of me for not saying goodbye in person. But I figured that leaving this place and all of you was going to be hard enough without having to look you in the eyes too.
I can't really say what you all have meant to me, and I'm sorry that my path in life has led me away. (I figure that's philosophical enough for you Josiah.) I'll always remember you and what you did for me. I wrote this poem about you, and although I'm no Emily Dickinson, please bear with me.
A broken heart
A bleeding heart
A heart that cannot heal
A virtuous heart
A fighting heart
A heart that's made of steel
A foolish heart
A flirting heart
A heart with a lover's zeal
An open heart
A loving heart
A human heart that steals
A surgeon's heart
A healing heart
A heart that truly feels
A spiritual heart
A knowing heart
A heart to which you kneel
A courageous heart
A cunning heart
A heart with an unbroken seal
All these hearts
Are human hearts
Hearts I know are real
Ezra closed the note. Then he left the apartment, turning off the light behind him. He knew that the others wouldn't be happy, but they would get through it, together, like they did everything else.
--
Sam left Denver the way she had come into it, zipping along I-25 with the top down and her hair billowing in the wind. She didn't know what lay ahead for her, or what could have lay behind. Her head bobbed along to rock music that blared form her stereo. And the picture of the Seven set so precariously on top of the box of clothes fluttered and caught in the wind. It sailed out of the car and settled on the asphalt of the highway, as if to beckon her to return.
The End
Sorry this was so long in coming. And I realize that this was probably not my best work, but I needed a way to write Sam out. Thanks for reading.