DAY 21
For the past nine days Ezra and the team were preparing themselves for a bust they were assisting the DEA with. They were glad to finally have something to do, besides "setting up house" as Travis had called it.
When the day of the bust came the team was in high spirits.
"Shit, Chris," Buck began lazily. "It's about damn time we have something to do, besides all that paperwork."
JD nodded his head vigorously in agreement. "I know. Who to contact in case of emergency. Next of kin. Those I understand. But community service performed, charitable donations, volunteer work done. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Mr. Dunne, they simply want to get 'feel' for who you are and your standing in the community. Volunteer work will make this department look noteworthy in the public eye," Ezra answered. "And yes, it is tedious."
"What the hell does 'tedious' mean?" Buck asked.
"I believe brother Ezra said it was 'boring'," Josiah supplied.
"Why don'tcha just say boring?" Buck pointed out in exasperation.
"Consider it my duty to enlighten you to the finer points of the English language."
"In other words, he plans to teach you how to speak English," Nathan clarified.
"I know how to speak English!"
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Ezra was in position between the two warehouses. In one of them, a drug deal would take place. But no one was clear on which one, not even the DEA's informant. So agents were stationed in and around both buildings.
When he heard someone approaching, Standish hid between the wall of the north warehouse and the large trash bin.
As the person passed, Ezra carefully looked to identify a possible suspect. His breath caught from shock as Terry Rossi passed. Ezra knew him from his days in Atlanta.
Mario Gianello and his crime ring were Ezra's first undercover assignment for the FBI. Terry Rossi, along with Rick Nera, were Gianello's bodyguards. Ezra entered their organization as a bookkeeper – Bob Arno. After nine months of working the case, his cover was mysteriously blown. Frank Horner, his supervisor, pulled him out immediately. They suspected that someone in the Bureau tipped Gianello off, but they never found out who.
One month later Rossi and Nera approached Ezra to "buy him off." While he 'talked' with the gentlemen, someone hid in the shadows and took pictures. Somehow, the pictures ended up in the hands of his superiors and he was labeled as crooked. And now Rossi was here in Denver.
Ezra carefully trailed Rossi to a limo parked behind the warehouses. Standish wondered if the other agents were still in place, or if the deal was already in motion and they were inside one of the buildings.
He had his answer when he heard shots fired in the south warehouse.
Carefully he covered the ground back to the warehouse and peered into a window.
His team and the other agents, clearly outnumbered, were being unarmed. Standish considered his options quickly, and then settled on one.
Larabee was seething when Standish casually strolled into the warehouse, hands raised.
"Ah gentlemen. It seems you are not as good at your job as you thought."
All attention was now focused on the young southerner. He smiled, dimples appearing in full force. Slowly he lowered his hands.
Then a small derringer appeared in his hand. He shot one dealer between the eyes before diving for cover behind a stack of crates.
Team seven snapped into action, disarming the guards around them. Chris used one man as a shield and took out two more.
In less than ten minutes, team seven and the DEA were in control. Larabee and the others were still cleaning up when the blond leader spotted Standish gripping his left shoulder and sitting against the stack of crates.
All movement ceased as Larabee stormed over to Ezra. He grabbed a handful of the man's shirt and hauled him to his feet.
"Don't you ever fuckin' run out on me again!" Larabee shouted. He threw Standish back against the crates.
Standish tipped an imaginary hat at the leader and Chris stormed away before he could give in to the temptation to kill the son of a bitch.
"Somethin' wrong with that arm?" Jackson asked as he approached.
"Nothing I can't handle, I assure you," Ezra ground out through clenched teeth. He'd dislocated the same shoulder before in a bust during his days with the Atlanta PD.
Nathan shrugged when Ezra began to walk away. When the man had his back to him, the medic grabbed the arm and popped it back into place.
Standish spun around with startling speed and pinned the black man against the wall and pulled back his left fist to strike him. He paused when he realized he could use his arm and released Jackson.
Nathan slapped him on the other shoulder and strolled away. "You're welcome," he called over his shoulder.
TBC…
