a/N: I may be losing my mind, but I could swear I've already posted this chapter. However, says I have not. So if someone recognizes it please let me know... meantime I hope you enjoy it. It is a long chapter...
Part 26
Josiah stared through the one-way mirror, his features heavy. Listening to what was going on inside the conference room, he mentally shook his head. 'Chris isn't going to like this.'
In spite of the regulation stating that JD had 48 hours before submitting to an interview; in spite of Vin's and Josiah's advice and his own exhaustion and shock, JD had insisted on meeting with the investigators from the Office of Professional Responsibility, referred to by a lot of agents as "IA" or Internal Affairs, as such an entity would be known in a police department. The meeting between JD and the two agents charged with investigating David Wyerly's shooting had started well. The two - one an older, grizzled veteran like Josiah, who introduced himself as Peter Canik, and his partner, a younger man by the name of Curt Brusing - bent over backwards to make things easy for JD. They reminded him several times he was under no obligation to speak to them at the present time, and that he was entitled to a lawyer of his choice or a peer counselor to assist him. JD had shook his head and signed papers waiving both rights.
There was one other person in the observation room with Josiah. Melinda Trauth, a handsome redheaded woman with the impressive build of a battleship, was a Bureau psychologist. Josiah had dated her frequently in the past and they were still good friends even if it hadn't worked romantically for them. She had several pages stapled inside a manila folder and as JD's recitation of events went on, she underlined or checked items with a pink highlighter. In the adjoining room, Brusing was doing the same thing - Josiah assumed it was a copy of JD's report - while Canik asked an occasional question.
Josiah studied JD's face as the younger man spoke. 'He looks tired-so tired,' he thought with a pang. The youngest member of Team Seven had been running on sheer adrenaline for days now, even weeks. Josiah doubted he'd got a good night's sleep since he'd returned from Florida after the explosion. He'd spend nights in the ICU waiting room, then later on the cot in Buck's room or on the couch down the corridor. Even after Buck began to rally and ordered everyone out of his room for a good night's rest, JD had bounced between the spare room at Ezra's and a bed roll on Vin's threadbare carpet. He was welcome at Chris' ranch - and he did stay there occasionally - but even before things had gotten tense between the two, JD had chosen to sleep elsewhere. He'd finally confided to Josiah it was hard sleeping in the room Buck still called "Adam's room", surrounded by boxes containing the belongings not destroyed in the explosion at the loft. Besides, although Vin and Ezra lived in opposite directions from the hospital, they were both about the same number of miles away and closer than either the turn of the century parish house Josiah was renovating in his spare time, or the duplex Nathan was living in until Rain and he got married. And of course, much closer than Chris' ranch outside town.
Even if JD had stayed in one place, Josiah doubted he would have gotten much sleep. He studied the younger man now, noting the harsh shadows under the eyes, the hollows under the too-prominent cheekbones. JD had lost weight. No matter what his friends tried to do, eating wasn't any more important to the boy than sleeping.
'Boy.' Josiah shook his head, ignoring Melinda's inquiring look. Strange how they called him that, how they all seemed to call him that. It wasn't just that JD was the youngest on the team; it was his innocence, his feeling that good would always prevail, that all the others had lost, if indeed they'd ever had it. JD hadn't had it easy in life either, Josiah knew that. Growing up without a father, being a genius in a world that didn't appreciate anyone different than the norm, and then losing his beloved mother before either one of them had seen their dreams for him come to fruition. But somehow all of that served to make JD less cynical than more. Maybe it was something about being a genius-Josiah's lips quirked as he remembered another genius he'd known. JD was a lot like Murray Bozinsky. He knew Murray had lectured at MIT before the accident-he wondered if JD had met him. He thought the two would like each other.
JD took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. He'd finished his story. Now, Canik and Brusing leaned forward, notebooks at hand, ready to ask questions. And the first question surprised Josiah although it probably shouldn't have.
"Tell us about your friendship with Buck Wilmington."
Josiah's mind rocketed back in time.
"Hell, Chris, you have to be kidding!"
Josiah looked across the table at Nathan. Both of them nodded. The two of them had only been in Denver a few short weeks and already they were getting the feel for the men who would be their teammates.
The one doing the yelling was Buck Wilmington. They knew - because Buck had mentioned it - that Wilmington and Team Leader Larabee had been friends for a while, been partners on the Denver PD. That there was a lot more to the story was obvious, but Buck didn't seem to want to go into details and Chris flat out didn't talk about his past. Matter of fact he'd gotten pissed at Buck when he'd found out Wilmington had even mentioned it to the new guys.
Vin Tanner, who so far seemed to be the only one Larabee ever listened to, took the picture and CV from Buck's unresisting hand. Josiah noticed - as he had before - that Vin didn't seem to peruse the written material. Instead the sharpshooter looked at the picture and pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. "Where'd you recruit this one, Larabee? Kindergarten?"
The leader snorted. "Boston. He's just finishing the police academy there - the FBI was hot after this guy. I got him just in time."
"To do what, exactly? Change his diapers?" Wilmington grabbed the picture from Vin and looked at it again. "Jeez, Chris, is this kid even old enough to drive?" He passed the picture to Nathan and Vin handed the papers over to Josiah.
"Oh, hell, Buck, of course he is!" Larabee glared at the man sitting across from him. "He's a college graduate! Not just any college, he went to MIT. He didn't go to Sandstorm State University!"
Now that was a new name for UNLV.
Buck rocked back in his seat like someone had slugged him. Josiah could see the hurt on his face before he looked down, then quickly looked back up, face calm. It would be another six months before Ezra Standish joined Team Seven, but on this day Josiah had observed a perfect "poker face".
It wasn't the first time Chris had argued with Buck but it was the first time anyone saw him apologize. Well, sort of apologize. He met Buck's eyes and his lip quirked into not quite a grin. "'Course he was hacking into computers, not breaking scoring records on the basketball court."
Buck grinned.
That was the end of the argument for that day. Whether or not Chris and Buck continued it in private or not Josiah never knew, but Buck never mentioned it again, not even the day JD Dunne walked into the office, looking even younger than his picture.
By that time they'd figured out - since they'd stopped passing it around long enough to actually read the CV - that JD was a certified genius who'd started college at age sixteen on a full scholarship and ended up earning a Masters from MIT before his twenty-second birthday. Why a guy like that, who could have started at six figures in some think tank or place, wanted to be a cop was anyone's guess...at least it was until JD got there and told them all about it, almost as soon as he'd said hello.
A genius he might be, but in a lot of ways besides his chronological age, JD Dunne was a kid, bubbling over with enthusiasm and excitement and - it was immediately apparent - a real case of hero worship for Chris Larabee.
"I heard that Chris Larabee was forming one of the first Remtef teams, they were talking about it back in Boston. Boston's in line for one too, if the first four work out, you know? Anyway I remembered that mission, you know, back when Chris' Navy SEALs outfit sneaked into...oh, where was it? And rescued those guys-"
"Hell, kid, how could you remember that?" Buck drawled. "You were still in your Pampers when that story came out. And besides, the Navy never confirmed or denied it happened."
"But everyone knows it really happened!" JD protested. "One of my high school teachers told me about it. His cousin...maybe it was his brother, I can't remember, he was one of the guys they pulled out. He told me about this tall guy who carried him out on his shoulders and didn't even stop when he was shot!"
Josiah remembered Chris and Buck had exchanged looks and Chris had a funny little half-grin on his face. But he'd said, "Don't believe everything you hear, JD, military people can tell just as many whoppers as anyone else." Then he'd gone into his office. His remark hadn't slowed down JD for a minute. He'd kept talking until it was five o'clock and they were all ready to go home.
"So where you staying, kid?" Buck asked, easily cutting through JD's chatter.
The young man stopped dead, his eyes widening as he glanced at the clock.
"I stayed at a hotel near the airport last night," he admitted. "Thought I might get out of here early enough to look for an apartment but-" He fixed woebegone eyes on Buck.
There was a minute of silence. Just as Josiah was ready to break it, to offer JD his couch, Buck grinned. "You might as well come home with me, then. I've got an extra room with a bed."
Josiah had been to Buck's renovated loft once before. There wasn't a lot of furniture but he did remember the extra bedroom downstairs held a bed, a two-on-three dresser that looked antique, and a battered green metal sea chest. The bed was only a twin but then, JD wasn't that big.
So JD and all his worldly possessions, which appeared to be a suitcase, his laptop and an oversized cardboard carton, got into Buck's truck that night. He'd cheerfully announced his motorcycle was due to be shipped to him in a week. And that, apparently, was all JD had or wanted to bring from Boston.
Over the next few weeks, JD did diligently search for an apartment in his free time, usually accompanied by Buck and at least some of the others. Vin offered an apartment in his building; Buck and Chris both loudly refused before JD even got to see it.
One day, when they were all at lunch at Inez's place and JD was busily circling ads in the "For Rent" pages, Buck loudly sighed. "OK, JD, what are you looking to pay in rent?"
"Buck!" the younger man exclaimed, looking around the crowded place, mortified.
"Ah, hell, kid, no one's paying any attention but us. Just spill it."
Face reddening, JD blurted out a range of figures. Buck reached for a cocktail napkin and jotted something on it. He nodded. "Okay. For this amount," he pushed the napkin over to JD, "You're paying a chunk of my mortgage. We'll figure utilities and the rest of it later. Okay?"
"You asking me to live with you?"
"Well, hell, you already are. I haven't used that room much lately." For some reason, Buck shot a look at Chris. "Might as well save your money for something important."
"Hmmm." JD looked down. When he looked back up again his eyes were alight with mischief. "So are we going to put a sock on the door? Or put a red light in the hall?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, what if I'm entertaining," JD responded. "I mean, how do I tell you to stay out?"
Buck's mouth opened, then closed. Before he could say anything, he noticed everyone's wide grins.
"Gotcha," JD gloated.
Josiah remembered that night, remembered the look of satisfaction and contentment in Chris' eyes as he'd watched the two new friends...
"I'm surprised Chris Larabee didn't stop Agent Dunne from making this premature statement."
"What-?" Josiah came back to the present abruptly. He was back in the observation room with Melinda, watching JD in his interview with Agents Canik and Brusing. 'Dear God, did I fall asleep?' he thought, mortified. He quickly covered by saying, "Chris isn't going to be happy about it. He's at the hospital." Come to think of it, it was odd that Chris hadn't called yet to find out why they were delayed. Josiah's gut clenched, cold. 'If Buck or Ezra is...gone...'
He calmed himself with an effort. If the worst had happened Chris or Nathan would have called. Vin would know. Vin would come down and get him. And JD.
'Oh, Lord, how will that young man survive if either of his big brothers dies? How will any of us survive?'
He pulled his mind away from that, forcing the thought of it down, away, where it couldn't see the light.
"What's your relationship with Agent Standish?" Brusing asked JD. "Do you consider him a friend as well?"
And Josiah's mind drifted back again...
"Damn it, Standish!" Chris' furious voice could have singed metal. "What the hell were you doing in there? This is a team, damn it! I don't need a maverick who can't follow procedure around here!"
"We can't trust him, Chris. Hell, he proved that right off the bat!" Nathan had made no secret of not liking Ezra, which had only worsened after Team Seven's first disastrous mission.
"No place on this team for a self servin' snake." Vin was furious and it showed in the cold fire in his blue eyes, the iron in his soft voice.
"Maybe the FBI was right about you, after all, Ezra?" Josiah could hardly believe those cold words were coming from his own mouth. He pushed back the idea that Ezra looked a little like a lamb surrounded by wolves. 'Hell he's no lamb. Damn him! Won't even apologize or try to explain what happened.'
"You just trashed seven weeks of work, Standish. And almost got JD killed, as well." Chris didn't even mention that Ezra was the one that was actually wounded.
JD was sitting across the table, his young face dark with anguish. He licked dry lips. "Chris-" he started. Buck elbowed him.
"Stay out of this, kid," the older man snapped.
"What happened, Ezra?" Nathan sneered. "Were you asleep or did old man James offer you a bribe to look the other way?"
Through all of this, Ezra had sat quietly in his chair, all alone at the end of the table. JD had started to sit next to him but Ezra shook his head and Buck had grabbed JD's elbow, pulling him away.
"Damn it, Ezra!" Chris exploded. "Say something!"
"He can't make any excuse for what he did," Vin snarled.
Ezra shrugged, the poker face that so enraged them firmly in place. "I have nothing to say, Mr. Larabee. You know the facts and have drawn your conclusions accordingly. Who am I to differ with you?"
Chris slammed his fist down on the glossy surface of the conference table. "Is that all you have to say for yourself? Damn it, Ezra, do you realize the judge - hell the whole office - is out for your blood? This whole damn thing blew up in our faces - three agents injured, a woman dead and James and his nephew cleared out without a trace."
"I take full responsibility for my failures, Agent Larabee." Ezra reached into his pocket, producing a pen. He pulled the legal sized notepad in front of him closer. "I assume you will accept my resignation? Or would you prefer to fire me?"
"Damn it, Standish! You'll be lucky if that's all that happens. The judge is talking about filing charges against you. You're looking at prison time, or don't you care?"
Josiah had been vaguely aware of JD's increasing agitation. But now the youngest member stood up, his face deathly pale. "No! You've got this all wrong!"
Josiah was looking at Ezra and saw something like alarm cross the undercover agent's face. "Mr. Dunne!" he snapped. "Sit down!"
"JD," Buck started. Then something caused his eyes to widen. "JD?" he repeated, almost in a whisper.
Chris' head shot up. He looked from Buck, to Ezra, and then finally to JD. When he spoke all the anger was leeched from his tone. "You have something to say, JD?"
"No, he does not," Ezra snapped. The poker face was gone now, replaced by something close to panic. "I was the agent in charge. What happened is my responsibility and mine only."
JD shook his head. Tears trembled on his eyelashes. "No, Ezra." His voice was choked. "I'm not letting you hang for me."
"JD?" Buck said the name quietly, like a prayer.
"Don't lie to protect him, JD," Nathan warned. "He's not worth it."
"I agree totally, Mr. Jackson. Mr. Dunne, please cease your noble, but totally misguided intervention."
Chris' eyes hadn't left JD's face. "Talk to me, JD." His voice was quiet.
The room went dead silent.
Finally, JD nodded. He looked at Ezra. "Thanks for what you were going to do, Ezra, but it's not right." He took a deep breath and faced Chris, meeting the leader's eyes with his own. "Chris...Ezra didn't screw up."
"It was his job to send the signal." To Josiah, it sounded as if Vin were pleading for something.
"He couldn't send it." JD's voice was calm but intent. His eyes met Ezra's again, with sorrow in them. "I disabled his computer. He couldn't send anything out."
"What!" This time it was Buck, half rising in his chair. "JD, what the hell were you thinking?"
"He's lying to protect Ezra!" Nathan said, although it was obvious he wasn't sure he believed his own words.
Chris' eyes were still focused on JD. "All of you. Sit down. And shut up." He pointed at JD. "Go on."
"This is really not necessary," Ezra rose from his chair. "I've already accepted my responsibility, you all know what happened, there's no reason for Mr. Dunne to fall on his sword for me-"
"Ezra." Chris' voice was quiet. And deadly. "Sit down and be quiet."
Ezra opened his mouth to argue, but Buck, looking like he'd just woken up to find his worst nightmare was true, put a heavy hand on his shoulder and forced the younger man back into his seat.
JD took a deep breath. His sorrowful eyes passed over all of them, hesitating briefly as he looked at Buck. Then he turned to Chris. "That girl, Annie. The one that was killed. She was James' girlfriend...he didn't treat her too good, I guess. We got...friendly." His face turned beet red.
Ezra opened his mouth to say something but this time it was Vin that put a hand on his shoulder.
"I...I knew it was getting time for the bust. I was going crazy, worrying what was going to happen to Annie. So...I told her."
"Oh, JD," Buck whispered.
"What did you tell her?" Chris asked. His face was dark.
"All of it. Who I was, who Ezra was. What we were there to do. I told her the bust was coming down, to get out. She didn't believe me at first. She kept saying they couldn't have done what we said. I showed her pictures, played the tapes we had." He took another breath. "It didn't even dawn on me that she was...playing me. I thought...thought she was just someone innocent caught in the middle. Ezra found out what was going on and...and he tried damage control. He was going to send you a message, tell you to come in. I - Annie was still there, she still didn't want to believe...she wouldn't leave. I needed more time. I thought, for sure, she'd sleep on it and...I begged Ezra for just another night. I knew she'd ..she'd realize..but Ezra said no. So I put a blockade around his computer system. No message was going out. He didn't realize at first...he kept trying to make me stay in our room, so we could see when it all came down. And then he realized what I'd done."
Ezra was shaking his head. "I was in charge. It was my responsibility-"
No one was listening to Ezra. They were all staring at JD. The young man had lost eye contact with any of them and was staring down at the table. "Annie told James and his uncle what we were there for. And he shot her, right there, in front of us. Then he turned his gun on Ezra. And then, it all went to hell and you were there and...I still don't know how he got word out. But James and his uncle got away. But it wasn't Ezra's fault, it was mine. He was taking the fall for me."
Josiah looked around the room, seeing the sick feeling in his stomach reflected on everyone's face. Vin and Nathan - neither one of whom had trusted Ezra since the beginning - looked especially ashamed. They knew JD was telling the truth. The ring of sincerity in his words and the shattered look on his face, not to mention the look on Ezra's, told them that.
Chris looked across the table at Ezra. "Well?" It was a challenge.
Ezra's eyes shot wildly around the room. "It makes no difference. I was the agent in charge. It was my responsibility -"
"Damn it, Ezra. You were going to let us throw you to the wolves and not say anything?" Buck sounded horrified, ashamed, and grateful, all at the same time.
"It was my -"
"Stop it!" JD exploded. "It was my responsibility, not yours, Ezra! You were going to let them do it, weren't you? Just to protect me-" He glared in everyone's direction, but especially at Vin and Nathan. "And you all were going to let him."
Josiah was brought out of his memory abruptly when the door to the conference room slammed open and AAD Montgomery stormed in.
"What the hell is going on here?" he roared.
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Nathan stepped out of the examining room, stretching his back to relieve the tight muscles there. He'd disposed of the gown and gloves he'd been wearing and now he walked down the hallway, seeking the coffeepot.
He poured a cup, taking a sip and grimacing at the bitterness before loading it with powdered creamer and sugar. Then he dropped into one of the chairs nearby and stretched his long legs out, staring up at the ceiling.
Ezra was breathing on his own. He hadn't regained consciousness, but he was responsive to pain and other stimuli. The frostbite affecting his fingers and toes wasn't as severe as Nathan had feared. And – ironically - the cold had actually helped, slowing the bleeding from the many wounds.
The concern was his heart.
Hypothermia could cause cardiac irregularities, even heart attacks. Nathan knew that. The doctors treating Ezra knew that. Add in shock and blood loss...
If that was what was causing the dangerous, sporadic rapid heartbeat, there was treatment. Medications to stabilize the heart, warmth, quiet - in time Ezra's heartbeat would stabilize.
But there could be another factor, a hidden, deadly one.
Not quite a month before, Ezra had been poisoned with massive, repeat doses of the experimental heart drug, T-27. T-27 promised new hope to hundreds of thousands of people with certain cardiac disorders, but had exactly the opposite effect when administered to someone with a healthy heart. Ezra had been only minutes away from death when a doctor at another hospital had realized Ezra must have somehow ingested T-27. Even so, Ezra's life had hung in the balance until Monica Hastings, the inventor of T-27, had come up with the antidote. Hastings had assured them that there would be no "long-range" damage to Ezra's heart, but one month wasn't long range. Monica Hastings was supposed to be on her way. She'd saved Ezra before, and just tonight she'd saved Buck-could she pull off a third miracle?
And what the hell was taking her so long to get here?
And then he saw a woman, almost running down the corridor. Nathan blinked, then blinked again, finally realizing who it was. He'd seen Monica Hastings before, several times; he and Vin had been at her labs frequently during the investigation of just how Ezra had been poisoned with her drug. He'd seen her tired, anxious, apologetic and stressed out, but he'd never seen her any other way than perfectly groomed, made up, hair perfect, wearing clothes that had to be designer originals. This woman in pale blue scrubs and a stained white lab coat, wearing sneakers and with her hair pulled back into an untidy ponytail and a face scrubbed clean of make-up, looked years younger and innocent, almost angelic. For the first time, he could see why Vin was so attracted to her.
"Agent Jackson!" Monica Hastings' eyes lit up when she saw him. "I'm so sorry - traffic was horrible and there was an accident-" she shook her head, sending strands of hair flying. "How is Agent Standish? Agent Wilmington?"
"Buck's doing better, thanks to you." He'd talked to Chris on the house phone about fifteen minutes before. "Ezra - we don't know. Dr. Culver wants to talk to you, have you look at the EKG."
Monica shook her head, her eyes sparkling with tears. "If T-27 is still endangering his life...I'm starting to wish I'd never invented it!"
Even though that wasn't far from what Nathan had been thinking, he rushed to say, "Don't think that. It's a great drug. It'll save lives. A lot of lives."
She looked at him, and then nodded her head, once. "Thank you, Agent Jackson. And now, if you could show me which room he's in, I'll see if my errant child is endangering Agent Standish yet again."
"Call me Nathan." He hesitated, looking toward Trauma 1, where he knew they were still working frantically on David Wyerly. They'd called a Code Blue, but apparently had got his heart going again. If Monica Hastings was indeed related to him, she had the right to know about his condition.
On the other hand, if she was related to David Wyerly, that made her Steven Curran's cousin, as well. Steven Curran. A man Ezra had killed. A crime lord in his own right.
He couldn't tell her.
She could be completely removed from the family. Wyerly was an uncommon name, but not that unusual. The hospital, or the police, would notify David Wyerly's family. In the meantime, Monica Hastings had a job to do and Nathan wasn't going to interfere with her doing it.
He guided her through the doors of Trauma 2.
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Vin hung up the phone, rubbing his ear gingerly. It was rare that he was subjected to one of Chris' blistering verbal lashings, but he'd just received a beaut. Not that he could blame Chris. Hell, even he couldn't understand why he and Josiah hadn't been able to stop JD from talking with the investigators.
On the good - hell, the wonderful side, Buck was better - if not out of danger, at least not at death's door. And Monica had once again saved someone Vin cared about. That was one good woman. He remembered the flowers she'd sent him after the inspection was over and he resolved to order her roses - red roses - first thing in the morning.
If she could just pull another miracle out of her hat and somehow help Ezra...
"Come on, Ez. You can do it. You hang on." His words rang out in the silence of the empty offices.
He sat down, then, hearing the rustle of paper, stood up again. The letter from Buck -the one he'd just opened when the phone rang - he'd laid it on his chair.
For a moment he hesitated. He'd opened the letter when he thought Buck's death was imminent. Buck had told him to read it, but should he? Now?
Curiosity overcame him. He needed to know what Buck had thought was so important.
Quickly he unfolded the sheets of paper, noticing they were typed in large print in very black ink. He smiled, shaking his head. Buck never mentioned Vin's dyslexia but he obviously had tried to make this letter - that was so important to him - easy for Vin to read.
For several minutes Vin studied the letter. It was late, he was tired, and even though the letter was printed it was slow going for him. But soon he was fixated on Buck's words.
He read it twice, then turned picked up the envelope and studied it. No date, nothing to say when Buck had written it, just Vin's name written in Buck's sprawling handwriting. Vin dropped the letter on the floor. He looked over at the expanding file he'd retrieved from Buck's bombed-out apartment. All this time, he'd been carrying the damn thing around and he'd never thought to look inside. And now, he was its custodian.
Chris was going to shit a brick.
"Damn it, Bucklin, what the hell were you thinking?"
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"Sit down, Agent Dunne."
It was the first thing AAD Montgomery had said since he'd stormed into the interview and stopped it, then ordered JD upstairs to his office. He'd also, rather forcefully, told Josiah he was not welcome to come along.
JD sank into a comfortable leather chair in front of the massive desk. It was the first time he'd been in the AAD's office, and he shook off enough fatigue and worry to notice the furnishings. They were luxurious, far more than any other office he'd seen in the Federal building, even more than AD Travis', who had brought his own furnishings in from his office at the courthouse. Montgomery must have purchased these as well, JD couldn't see the ATF funding butter-soft leather chairs and couch, real wood filing cabinets, and a huge desk made of some glossy black wood with lavish carving on the legs. On the top of the desk there was a marbled jade penholder and a beautiful oriental sculpture with intricate carving..
Montgomery sat down in his own richly upholstered chair behind the desk. "A little different from Team Seven's offices, isn't it?"
For some reason that remark bothered JD, but one couldn't deny it. "Yes, sir."
"Forget the sir, son. And may I call you JD?"
This was weird. Why did Montgomery want to talk to hiIm, and why be so chummy about it? But again, JD answered, "Yes."
Montgomery stood up again and moved to a corner cupboard. He pulled open the doors to reveal a mini-wet bar. "I think you could use a drink. It's been a long day. I know I could use one." Before JD could think of how to answer that, a large cut-glass tumbler, half full of an amber liquid, was thrust into his hand. JD took a cautious sip. He wasn't much for alcohol and he hated whiskey, but this was brandy - he recognized it from the time he and Ezra had been undercover together - and excellent, even to his untrained palate.
'Alcohol is prohibited in Federal office buildings.'
JD had no idea why that thought had popped into his head, and he didn't say it out loud. He swirled the brandy around in his glass like Ezra had taught him, reminding himself to tell Ez the AAD hadn't served it in the balloon glasses like Ezra had insisted upon. Then he remembered Ezra was in the hospital...maybe dying, or maybe even dead. Then he thought of Buck and his stomach lurched. Carefully he put the glass down on the arm of the chair.
Montgomery appeared content to savor his brandy, eyes half closed, but JD had the uncomfortable feeling the older man was watching every move he made. Clearing his throat, he said, a little breathlessly, "I - um, thanks for the drink, but if I'm not going to finish the interview I'd - I want to get back to the hospital. I mean -"
Montgomery waved an elegant hand. "You're worried about your teammates. Of course. I just called and both Standish and Wilmington are hanging on. I understand there's actually been a change for the better in Wilmington's condition - a local laboratory isolated that insidious poison."
JD gasped, a huge load seemingly disappearing from his heart. He jumped up from the chair, sending the brandy flying and barely even noticing. "He - he's going to make it?" The voice was breathless. "I've got to - got to get there -"
"Of course. But a moment of your time, first? This is something I've been pondering for quite some time and I feel I must discuss it with you."
JD hesitated, then plopped down into his chair. He only then noticed he'd spilled his drink, but Montgomery's next words caught his attention as nothing else could have.
"JD. I've been reviewing your file. Your background is impressive. To be frank, young man, I think you are wasted on Team Seven."
JD sat up straight. "What? But Team Seven is the best, Chris is-"
Again, Montgomery held up his hand. "I know about Team Seven. And I know about Larabee. But - to be honest, I have serious concerns. Are you planning on making the ATF a career? Because I don't think staying on Team Seven will help you at all. They over protect you, for one thing."
JD fell back in his chair, words caught in his throat. 'That's true,' a snide little voice said in his mind. 'You know it is.'
"I-" he stammered.
"JD, the ATF is like any other entity. The ones who work the hardest, show off the best, they get promoted." He waved his arm around the plush office. "They get this. But, no matter what your potential, you aren't going to meet it in Team Seven. I've watched you for quite some time now and I believe - I fully believe - I see a brilliant agent, a brilliant man - struggling to come to the surface amongst just too many people trying to hold you back. Maybe they do it with the best of intentions, I don't know and won't try to guess. But you're never going to become the man you can be with all of Team Seven around you."
Then, before JD could even catch his breath, Montgomery went on, his words tearing away at JD's already-shaken world.
"I'm worried about them, too. All of them. They try too hard to keep you out of things, protect you. They put themselves at risk for it."
JD gasped, feeling the words tearing away at his heart.
"To be honest, JD, I think - I know - you need to transfer away from Team Seven. From Denver, for that matter. For both your sake...and your friends."
tbc...