CHAPTER 7

Orrin Travis stood outside the door to the bullpen, observing five members of his crack field team hard at work.  It was a rare sight, indeed.  JD was focused solely on his computer screen, every once in a while swiping absently at a stray lock of hair that insisted it be in his eyes.  His fingers practically flew across the keyboard.  Nathan and Buck were both on the phone, and for once, Buck's conversation was strictly professional. Nathan sat in Vin's desk chair, while Vin occupied Nathan's across from Josiah. A pile of folders were stacked haphazardly to one side of Josiah's desk as they poured over the contents of several reports, occasionally making notes or comparing a particular find to another sheet.

 He didn't think he had ever seen Tanner so intent on paperwork before. 

He smiled a little sadly.  Usually, these men were a bunch of unruly, ill-mannered hyenas whose antics he was sure were going to drive him into retirement or a nursing home, one or the other.  But give them a case, a target, a job to do, and they focused all that energy into a single beam of determination and tenacity.  The pack of hyenas became wolves—smart, efficient, and deadly with purpose. 

It was times like this that reminded him just why he put up with this bunch of misfits and made allowances for them. 

There was no doubt whatsoever that they were the best—a well-fit machine that functioned with amazing accuracy and precision.  It was truly a sight to behold.  And they were working even harder than ever before on this case.  One of their own was missing, and no one messed with one of their brothers, even if it was the contrary, pain-in-the-a** black sheep. 

Larabee stepped from his office, an open file in his hand, and made his way to Josiah's desk.  He looked up as Buck finished his conversation and hung up the phone.  "Find anything?"

Buck settled on the corner of his desk and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "Yeah.  Report just came in.  Giuliano Carnelli was found about an hour ago in his shop, dead.  Executed, mob style."  He looked up bleakly, resting his arm on his knee.  "The place was stripped clean—no account records, no merchandise, no prints.  And no sign of Miles Walker."

"S**t." Vin's comment rang out across the space.  He exchanged a fearful look with Josiah.  "Just what the h**l is going on here?"

"I don't know, Vin, but whatever it is, our brother is definitely up to his neck in it," Josiah answered grimly.

The judge chose that moment to make his presence known and cleared his throat, getting their attention.  "Boys," he greeted.

Chris set the file down on the desk and stood up straight, nodding at the man before him.  "Judge."

The AD stepped further into the room, a serious expression on his face.  "Any word from Standish?"

Chris grimaced.  "No, sir."

"There's something else I found out from DPD," Buck broke in.  "There was nothing to show that Miles Walker had even existed.  They talked to Carnelli's wife and family, his employees, and his friends, and no one's heard of him."

"But how's that possible?  We know that Ezra's been working there for the last month!" JD pointed out.

"It means Ez's cover's been blown, kid," Vin answered grimly as he tossed his pencil on the desk and sat back in his chair.

Silence filled the room as the implications of Vin's words sunk in.  "D**n," Buck muttered, sliding off his desk.  He closed his eyes for a moment then suddenly whirled around and punched the wall to his left fiercely, leaving a hole in the plaster.  "D**n it all to h**l!"

"Something happened at that hangar last night.  I want to know what it was," Chris ordered.  A cold rage filled him and he welcomed it, for it covered the hopelessness, the feelings of failure, and the surprisingly acute sense of loss and grief that threatened him. 

When had that slimy snake of a southerner gotten under his skin? 

His eyes narrowed in purpose.  "We are going to find him, even if we have to turn over every rock in Colorado to do it!"

The judge slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and nodded his approval.  "Let me know if there's anything I can do.  Standish may have been a first class pain in the a**, but he was a d**n fine agent.  Bring him home, boys."

He turned to leave, but paused at the sound of the phone ringing in Chris's office.  They all looked at each other in dread as Chris reached over Josiah, hit his extension, and picked up the phone.  "Larabee."

Vin felt his stomach plummet as he watched Chris suddenly pale and ball his free hand into a tight fist.  He closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth.  'No.' he thought frantically as he unconsciously gripped the armrest of his chair.  'Not this.'

"Do they need us to come down there?"  Chris's hoarse words pulled his attention back to the leader.  The blond's face had become like granite, cold and determined.  "Let me know when they get the results then….No, you were right to call me now. We needed to know….Let me know what they confirm….Yes….Yes….Thanks, Wade."  Chris hung up the phone and clung to the edge of the desk for a moment, his head down and his eyes closed.  "They found a body in the hangar about thirty minutes ago," he said quietly, finally looking up at his men.

The only sound in the room for several moments was the snap of the pencil in Josiah's hand being broken in half.

"Is it—" Nathan started, but Chris cut him off.  "They don't know for sure yet.  The body was badly burned, unrecognizable.  They've taken it down to the lab to ID it.  They'll let us know what they find."

"It wasn't him," JD muttered, slamming his hand palm down on his desk.  "It wasn't Ezra."

"Kid," Buck reached to lay his hand on JD's shoulder, but JD shook it off fiercely and stumbled up from his chair and away from the ladies' man, shaking his head in denial.  "No, Buck!  It wasn't him.  It wasn't!  I don't know where he's at right now, but it wasn't him!"  JD kicked at the waste basket beside his desk then ran his hand through his hair while pacing in front of the desk.  "It wasn't," he muttered.

"I'm with ya, JD," Vin spoke up in agreement, his eyes burning with conviction as he met the hopeful gaze of the youngest.  The others turned to look at him in surprise.  "Until they prove it otherwise, I'm assumin' he's alive.  And I'm gonna find him."

JD gave him a small smile, while the others looked less hopeful.  Chris finally looked up and met Vin's gaze.  'Don't be giving up on us now, cowboy.  Ez needs us,' Vin's ice blue eyes stared unwaveringly into his.  Chris finally nodded, then turned his attention to the rest of the room.  "Let's nail these bastards!"

Buck grinned, but his eyes glittered with a promise of revenge.  "Oh, yeah.  We're gonna show 'em what happens when they mess with the best!"

The judge looked on in approval, glad to see the resolve, before slipping quietly from the room.  He left the bullpen and took the elevator to the garage, his steps heavy.  He dreaded going home, dreaded facing his wife.  She had a soft spot in her heart for that infuriating con man, and this would surely break it.  He finally reached his Lexus, unlocked the door, and slid into the cool leather seat.  As he pulled out of the garage and onto the busy street, he glanced at the lit office windows several stories above.  "Godspeed, boys," he murmured to himself. 

He almost felt sorry for their prey, for they surely had the hounds of hell on their trail now, and God's own retribution couldn't be more swift or brutal.

* * * * * * *

Ezra softly pushed the office door open and slipped into the darkened room, pausing briefly to get his bearings. He slid the tiny file back into his shirt pocket before flicking the small flashlight on.  "Now.  If I were of the need to conceal certain incriminating documents, where would I place them?" he wondered to himself, sweeping his gaze steadily over the room. 

The small, seedy bank had only the barest security, which he had no trouble at all bypassing.  He had shaken his head in mock dismay as he had easily disabled the cameras and the locks.  "Disgraceful.  Simply disgraceful," he muttered to himself.

He quickly found the manager's office and made short work of the simple door lock; thus, he now stood in the small, wood paneled room.  A large mahogany desk stood in the center, taking up most of the space.  Low book shelves lined either side of the window directly behind it, and two wing-backed chairs stood in front of it.  A few cheap prints graced the walls.  Overall, the office was sparse, bland, and threadbare.  He found a coat stand behind the door beside a tall, black filing cabinet.  A quick search of the cabinet proved fruitless, as did the desk.  He moved to the paintings, hoping to find a wall safe, but was not surprised that he didn't.  'Of course, this couldn't be easy,' he grimaced. 

He sorted through the small collection of books on the shelves, but yielded no results that way, either.  He checked the carpet, looking for loose corners and hiding places underneath, but again came up empty.  He moved out into the small reception area and began sorting through the tellers' drawers.  A quick glance at his watch had him picking up his pace.  He had already been inside for five minutes. 

This was taking too long. 

He stopped in the middle of the room and turned slowly, studying the room until his gaze fell on the tall, solid door leading to the vault.  'Of course,' he groaned.  It was the safest place in the entire bank! 

He made his way to the door and stepped back, looking at it intently.  Like most banks, it had an electronic lock that could only be opened at a certain time each day.  'That wouldn't work,' he thought.  'Banning would have to do the deed after hours and would need access to the vault.'  He glanced back at the office door then rolled his eyes at himself.  'He was the manager, you imbecile.  He had access to the combination!'  He looked from the vault door to the office and back again. 

Banning had struck him as a nervous little man and a worrier, the kind of person to torture themselves with what if scenarios and spend all their time creating contingency plans.  Therefore, it wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility that he would keep the combination in his office where he would have immediate and easy access to it. 

Ezra went back to the office and again searched through the desk, this time looking for anything that resembled a pass code.  The desk again proved fruitless. Headlights flashed in the window, and he quickly flattened himself against the wall until the car passed.  He then turned his attention to the bookshelves. 

Several volumes were devoted to banking, accounting, and finances, with a few economic books as well.  One whole shelf was filled with black binders containing documents pertaining to the institution going back several years.  One book in particular caught his attention.  On the bottom of the shelf, sandwiched between two hefty tomes on financial law, was a small, worn paperback copy of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations.

He reached for the book quickly and set it on the desk.  He focused the flashlight beam on its pages as he slowly flipped through it, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  Finally, he found what he was seeking, written in the margin three quarters of the way through the book.  A small key marked the spot.  He picked up the key and shook his head in disproval.  "Quite slipshod, Mr. Banning," he whispered out loud as he put the book back in its place on the shelf and strode back to the outer room.  "Very unprofessional.  It is indeed miraculous that you have not already been burglarized." 

He found the safety deposit box keys locked in one of the teller's drawers and activated the computer above to complete a quick search of the files before he made his way back to the vault.  He punched in the code he had quickly memorized and smiled when the door clicked and slid open a few inches.  He began to whistle to himself softly as he pulled the door completely open. 

He found himself standing inside a small room with a low ceiling.  Safety deposit boxes lined both walls, while another large metal door took up the back, probably leading into the actual storage area for the money.  He quickly found the box the small key from the office was listed for, and inserted it and one of the teller's keys into the twin locks.  The drawer slipped from its place and he set it on the small table in the back before rifling through the contents.  His smile grew wider as he scanned the pages in his hand then flipped through the small black book at the bottom. 

A noise at the door startled him, and the gun he had taken from the hangar leaped into his hand.  Alex, who had been standing watch outside, didn't bat an eye at the gun pointed at her heart.  "Someone's coming!" she hissed breathlessly.  "We've got to get out of here!"

He tossed the keys to her to put back while he stuffed the book into his pocket and the papers back into the box.  He slammed it back into its spot on the wall before exiting the vault and shutting the large door as quietly as he could.  He and Alex then moved as one toward the only door out, but froze as they heard a soft click indicating that the outer door was being opened.  He looked around the room wildly, searching for a place to hide, then jerked his head toward a small doorway across from the vault and pulled her toward it. 

They slipped into a closet-sized room just as the inner door opened.  Soft moonlight filtered in through the drive-through window lining the entire outside wall.  Ezra crouched down and flattened himself along the doorway, gun in hand, as he gazed out into the room.  Alex crouched down on the opposite side of the opening from him, watching him fearfully, her heart hammering in her chest.  She held her breath, afraid of making even the smallest of sounds.

Two men entered the room cautiously, guns glinting in the faint glow from the street light outside.  They had instantly gone on guard when they found that the security camera had been de-activated.  They split up and began to search the place, shining their powerful flashlight beams into every possible hiding place.  One of the men aimed the light into the room Ezra and Alex were hiding in, and Ezra shrank back quickly, narrowly avoiding discovery.  The gunman seemed satisfied that the room was empty and turned away to look beneath the tables in the tellers' cages.  Ezra leaned back against the wall and let out a silent breath of relief. 

That had been much too close for his comfort!

He turned back to the opening as the two gunmen met in the center of the room.  "There's no one here, boss," one of them spoke.

"I still don't like it," the other growled. 

Alex's eyes widened and she and Ezra looked at each other.  'Vitalis!' she mouthed at him, and he nodded.

"Maybe that camera just quit working.  The doors are all locked, and I don't see any sign of anyone else being here," the first man continued.  "It's just a coincidence."

"Coincidences don't exist in this business.  Get you're a** back to that door and keep watch.  The last thing we need to do is attract the local heat."  Vitalis motioned his accomplice away as he entered the office and went directly to the small shelf.  He opened the book to the correct page then paused.  "The key's missing!" he hissed.

Ezra looked down at the small key he had not had time to replace.          

The guard looked at his boss.  "Did it fall out?"

Vitalis searched the area, pulling the other books off the shelf and sweeping his hand along the opening, but finding nothing.  "S**t!  I don't have time for this!" he cursed. 

"The little weasel must have taken it with him," the other man decided.

Vitalis's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room once again.  "Maybe," he muttered.  He rummaged around in the tellers' drawer for the bank's set of keys and then punched the code into the vault door.  It opened with a click, and he quickly entered the room and went directly to the correct box.  He inserted the bank key into its appropriate place then used a lock pick to open the other side.  The box was once again pulled from its resting place and the contents removed.  He scanned the pages quickly before stuffing them into his pocket.  Satisfied with what he found, he put the box back and left the vault, motioning to the other man to follow him.  "It's all there.  Now, let's get outta here."  They put the keys back and quickly left the building.

Ezra and Alex waited several minutes before leaving their hiding place.  They cautiously slipped out of the building, reactivating the camera on their way out, and scurried down the street.  They walked a few blocks before turning into a small, dark alley.  Alex leaned back against the brick wall and let her back pack slide to the ground at her feet as she ran a hand over her forehead and sighed in relief.  "Let's not do that again, okay?" she pleaded.  "I think I lost a good ten years from my life when that guy flashed his light at us!"

Ezra grinned back at her as he pulled the collar of his jacket up against the wind.  "I completely agree with you.  I do believe my heart ceased palpitating for a moment."

She stood up and straightened her jacket before grabbing her bag.  "Well, we'd better be getting out of here if we want to be back into the city tonight.  The last bus runs at one."  She cautiously stepped out of the alley, casting furtive glances up and down the street before finally deciding that the coast truly was clear.

Ezra grimaced as he followed her down the street.  "I so detest public transportation," he complained.

She glanced back at him and smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.  "Yeah, well it sure beats walking back.  Though if you prefer wandering down the streets of Purgatorio at this time of night, be my guest."  She casually stepped off to the side out of his reach before she made her next comment.  "Of course, with that new beard you got going and that smell, you could fit right in with the rest of the bums down here," she teased.

He glared at her in indignation.  "I do not stink.  Any unpleasant odor arising from the vicinity of my person would be coming from this coat that you purchased."

"No one said you had to wear it," she shot back as she side-stepped a pole supporting a non-working streetlight.

His step faltered to a stop and he looked at her incredulously.  "Then what exactly was the subject of that debate back at the library?"

She shrugged as she turned around to face him and continued down the street backwards.  "Oh, that was about you accepting the coat as a gift from a friend.  We never said anything about you actually wearing it."  She bumped into another pole and quickly faced the right direction, unable to suppress the mischievous smile that spread across her features.

He sighed and quickened his pace to catch up with her.  "Your logic simply astounds me."

Alex laughed.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

"That was not the intent," Ezra pointed out.

"It got lost in the interpretation.  Now come on.  It won't be that bad.  You survived the trip down here."  She pulled him to the bus stop.  They could see the dreaded mode of transportation as it turned a corner and came closer.  It stopped with a loud whoosh as the air brakes were engaged and the door was opened.  She climbed up the steps and handed the driver the correct amount of change.  Ezra stopped at the opening, and she turned back to him, motioning him to follow her.  "Come on.  It's nearly empty.  You can handle a short right back into the city.  You'll even get an entire seat to yourself," she smirked at him.

"Oh, joy," he sighed sarcastically, but followed her onto the bus.  The door closed behind him and the bus pulled out into the night.