The ties that bind - Chapter Four
A word from the author:
One more time it took me weeks – months? – to update and I am so very sorry. I had to work my way through several exams and so on and so forth – life has been very busy during these last weeks. Every now and then I have written bits and pieces of this, but it is very difficult to create the right atmosphere for it when there is so much stress going on around you. Anyways, here's another chapter
To the reviewers
Thank you guys for the comments on the really short third chapter – because this chapter was the most difficult one to write for my up to now, those comments meant a lot to me.
DISCLAIMER: The Magnificent Seven and Without a Trace are not mine and I am writing this just for fun. Oh! And thank you MOG for creating the wonderful ATF universe which offers a myriad of possibilities for us fanfiction writers.
SPOILERS: Just the usual – this takes place somewhere half way through Season Two of Without a Trace. I don't know exactely when, but the whole Franco Reyes desaster from "A tree falls" has already happened. you'll find a few references to "The line" in this (again. I just love that episode.Simply because of the whole Bounty Hunter thing - and because of Bob Bellaqua. He's the best OC of the show. Oka, forget I wrote this, it's totally random.)
On a side note:
I have been asked WHY I let this take place in Season two of WAT and not later. Well, there are several reasons.
1.)Actually I did a lot of math before writing this and four years seem more than enough for a person to be gone / missing. That's all I am saying.
2.)I HATE Elena. So I am sticking to the WAT seasons where she is not yet part of the picture.
3.)And most importantly: after season two the character of Martin seemed to change a lot and the character development took a direction that would have been difficult to capture in a story like this. The whole Sam/Martin issue irked me – to me, it was so OOC it hurt. So much for season three. In season four, there is a whole side story arc beginning with Martin getting shot, followed by him getting addicted to pain meds and so on. While this added a lot of depth to the character and was delivered really well by Eric Close, I did not want to go there. Instead, I wanted to capture the more positive vibe from the wonderful season one and the still very good season two.
Oh! And in other news:
I found myself a beta. Or better: the beta found me I have never had anyone beta-read a story of mine before, so this is totally new to me. So I'm sending a warm welcome and a big thank you to AJ Squaredaway, who will have to put up with my none-existing formatting skills, my typos, my weird English and my altogether crazy way of writing. And of corse from the next chapter on, you will, like you put it, "read the story first." Be sure that I am more than flattered and very thankful!
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After a tense question and answer game between Jack and Martin, they now knew that a few years ago Martin had worked for the ATF using another name - and that Agent Chris Larabee had been the leader of the team Martin had been a member of. For almost three years.
"I can't believe you never told us about that," Danny whispered, shaking his head.
Martin stared out of the window, like he had done through most of the conversation. "I had my reasons."
"Probably," Jack nodded to their surprise, but he turned serious again. "But you could have told us the moment you knew that we would run into…these people."
Martin chuckled. "These people… believe me, you haven't really met them yet."
"Well, I will," Jack sighed, turning towards the elevator. "I want you and Danny to stay here, we have caused enough chaos as it is. I'll call you as soon as I know more."
"But…" Danny tried to protest, but Jack was already in the elevator. "Great. Now what? We just sit here and do nothing?"
When Martin didn't answer, Danny's mood turned darker and darker. He tried to occupy himself with watching the agents walk by and counting the ones who stared at Martin, shook their heads in disbelief and walked on. He stopped counting at 23.
"Is there anyone around here who does not know you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm
To his surprise, Martin smiled. "No, I guess not."
The moments of silence stretched.
Danny took a deep breath. He wanted to hit something. Preferably Martin. This was – wow. Of all the things he had expected, this took the cake. Martin… and ATF agent? The green agent who had transferred from White Collar with that unnerving attitude and an unpredictable temper? Had worked here? This changed everything. It turned everything Danny thought he knew about Martin upside down. The thoughts were racing through his head. He was so good at his job because he had learned to quickly adjust to new situations. But this…was a little bit much to take. On the one hand, so many things made a lot more sense now . But on the other hand…
He had often wondered why they worked so well together. Why it was so easy to find the missing pieces when Martin was there and the banter bounced back and forth between them until they found out what they wanted to know. For someone who had – supposedly!! – spent most of his days behind an office desk, working on what Martin himself often called "math crimes" in White Collar, Martin had always seemed to move easily in dangorous situations. Of corse he had pulled a few really stupid stunts in the beginning, but he had still been green then – no wait. Danny growled. He hadn't. Because that had all been a lie. Some kind of stupid mask he had been wearing.
Danny felt himself getting more and more angry.
What was true? Who the hell was this guy?!
Because it wasn't only that ATF agent thing.
The Rangers?! A sharpshoter?!
Hell no.
Hadn't Martin once told him that his father had wanted him to go into politics? How the hell had Martin ended up wading through dirt, carrying a sniper rifle?! That was so far out it hurt.
Okay, Danny thought. Calm down. You know him well enough to be sure that he will not tell you anything if you shout at him. Or hit him. Although right now, it was tempting.
"So," Danny finally asked without looking at Martin, "are you going to tell me? The whole story I mean."
Martin sighed. He could hear that Danny was barely keeping his anger in check. And boy did he feel bad about that. He had never wanted for the others to find out like this – expecially not Danny. Jack was his boss and he respected him, Sam was always polite but seemed to live in her own little world. Vivian was very smart and was the perfect person to turn to if there were any problems. But of all the members of their team, Danny was the closest to what Martin would call a friend. Screw that, they WERE friends. And now?
In another place – any other place – Martin would have answered the question with another question, like "what exactely do you want to hear?". But here? He took another look around. He had never had to lie here. Had never wanted to. And still he had done so. Of corse he could be nitpicky now and make a difference between withholding information and flat out telling a lie.
That aside – he had no idea where to start. Being here, seeing THEM… it was still overwhelming. He had no idea what was going to happen now and that scared him. A myriad of thoughts was flying around in his head. So they were still a team? Was everything alright? What had happened in those years? Was there a possibility that he could just hide and wait till this whole desaster was over?
He carefully weighted his options. Of corse this whole situation was just waiting to turn into a desaster, the storm was already coming up, was just biding it's time. And he did not want that. He had to find a way out somehow. For them.
But still Danny and the others deserved to know.
"Well", he sighed after a long silence, "it started out with a bust gone terribly wrong, was followed by an accident I was in… and ended with me waking up in a hospital in Washington D.C. without having the slightest idea how the hell I got there."
Danny turned to him, his eyes narrowed. "What exactely is that supposed to mean?"
Martin thought a moment about what he had just said. To someone who didn't know the whole story, it had to sound confusing.
He stood up and stretched.
"What are you doing?" Danny asked, still confused. "Jack told us to wait here."
"I know," Martin answered, making a decision. "But you wanted to hear the whole story. I know a better place for that."
---
When Buck opened the door to Chris' office, he felt like time had been turned back. Chris was again standing in front of the window, his back to his friend. Buck sighed.
"Chris, listen… I have no… I mean I don't know how…"
"You don't know?" Chris interrupted him, his voice so hollow it sent a shiver down Buck's spine. "Damn. And here I thought you were the guy with all the answers."
"No," Buck answered without missing a beat. "That'd be Josiah."
The joke fell flat and the silence was back. It was a heavy, strained silence.
"You read his file?" Buck asked carefully, not really sure how to deal with this.
"Yes," was the short and eerily calm answer. It made Buck want to hit something.
"And? What do you think?" he asked again, forcing himself to stay calm.
Chris turned around and glared at him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but couldn't find the right words. He turned around and shook his head.
"What are you expecting me to say, Buck? Huh?" His voice rose in volume. "How am I supposed to react to… to THIS? You tell me, because I sure as hell don't know!"
Buck considered this for a moment. "Well.. I was not there. But I saw you. On the security tape. I saw your reaction."
Chris' eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You recognized him."
"No. There's nothing – NO." Chris took a step back as if to end the conversation, but Buck was having none of it.
"So you are just going to do – what? Ignore this guy? Ignore this whole thing? How? Don't get me wrong, it's not like we are not shocked, too. But…"
"This is not how it is supposed to be."
The words had been not much more than a whisper, but they shocked them both. Buck stared at his friend, and for a moment, Chris just stared back, like he had not intended to say that out loud. But it was too late. Then the angry look and Chris' face was back.
"I have no idea what is going on here. Or who he is. But this…" he pointed at the file folder on his desk. .."is crazy. I don't want to talk to him. And that is not open for discussion."
Buck glared at him and then nodded slowly, like he was understanding something important.
"He said something to you, didn't he? That's what I saw on the tape. What was it?"
For a moment, there was silence. Chris had obviously not seen this question coming. He turned towards his desk and sat down.
He took a deep breath like he was about to answer the question – but then decided against it.
"What… what if it was all a lie?" he then asked, his voice hoarse. "I mean everything. Three years… what if he never existed?"
---
"Larabee."
The voice on the other end of the line was tired and angry. For a moment Buck considered hanging up, but someone had to do something. And again, it was him. JD had disappeared a few minutes ago, working on some computer problem.
"Hey, it's me."
Silence. Then: "What do you want?"
Buck groaned. "Oh come on, Chris. It's been a week. What is going on with you? With both of you?"
"He wanted two weeks off, so he will get them. End of story," was the tense reply.
"Yeah, so?" Buck felt like he was talking to a stubborn teenager. And boy, could those two be stubborn. "We all needed the time off, he was just the only one gutsy enough to say it out loud."
He could hear Chris sigh. It sounded strained and that was never a good sign. Form this point on, he knew that Chris could and maybe would do one of two things: he would either hang up or shout at him and hang up after that. None of those two variations would lead to any good.
"Okay," Buck tried again, "let me put it like this. We are very thankful for the time off.."
"Who's we?" Chris interrupted him, his voice sounding suspicious.
"If you really want to know, JD, Nathan, Josiah and me. JD's next door, and Nate and Josiah have been calling a few times. Well, you know how it is with Ezra. He's probably at home, sipping some expensive coffee, enjoying the silence. Staying away from us as long as he can."
There were a few moments of silence. Buck waited, letting the information sink in. Finally, Chris took the bait.
"So he hasn't called?"
"No," Buck shouted back, his paitence wearing thin. "Just like you. What the hell are you two doing, sitting at home staring at the wall? Is this some kind of game to see which one of you is the most stubborn?"
"Have you tried calling him?" Chris asked, ignoring the rant.
"Of corse, but the line was always dead. Probably ripped the thing out of the wall. Would not be the first time." Buck hesitated. Now that he had said it out loud, he was worried. "Have you?"
"No."
This was not good. Of corse Vin was an adult and could look after himself - they all knew that. And although he was usualy very calm and friendly, he could be stubborn as hell and brood for days if his mind was set on something. Still he always kept in touch, calling in on a regular basis. But now it had been a week. Something was not right. There was another moment of silence - but the desicion had already been made.
"I'm gonna meet you there," Chris said shortly.
"Got it."
Half an hour later two cars arrived at the small apartment building in Purgatorio. It was already late and the darkness was always a problem in this part of town. Narrow streets and old buildings caused a lot of shadows and expecially this neighborhood screamed desaster. How often had they tried to convince Vin to move to another place? But Vin would have none of it - for some reason this place meant a lot to him. They had soon found out that he was looking after the kids of the neighborhood and that he was trying to keep the gang activities at bay. Well, no wonder Ezra loved to call him "Robin Hood". The building was dark and surrounded by an eerie silence. Both Buck and Chris stared at it for a while, feeling that something was indeed not right.
"I'm going to look for his car," Chris growled, walking to the back of the building. Buck nodded and made his way to the front door, knocking as loud as he could.
Finally, a kid opened the door. He could not be older than sixteen and Buck recognized him immedeately. He was one of the kids who often used Vin's computer or simply spent time in his appartment.
"Julius?" Buck asked, not sure if that was really his name.
The kid nodded, staring at him suspicously. Then he seemed to recognize him and hastily opened the door.
"Hey, it's you. What's wrong? Something happen to Vin?"
This surprised Buck, because as far as he knew, the kids in this building usually knew everything that was going on -expecially when it involved Vin.
"We don't know. Isn't he here?"
The kid's eyes widened. He stepped aside, letting Buck in and they hastily made their way up the stairs to VIn's appartment.
"No," Julius said, now sounding worried. "He left on his bike about a week ago. I tried to talk to him, but he seemed to be kind of angry. Said that he was busy, so I thought that he would have to go back to work soon. I mean he's done that before, so we were not worried when he did not come back for some time. But now..."
To Buck's surprise, the kid had a key to the appartment and opened the door. He wanted to go in first, but something felt wrong and Buck grabbed his arm to stop him. The apartment was dark and quiet - too quiet. Usually there was always an old radio playing somewhere in the apartment, although Buck had never seen the thing. But Vin was not stupid, he knew what kind of neighborhood this was and left the thing switched on, even when he was asleep or not at home. Usually a few of the lights stayed on too, just to give the impression that someone was home.
Unlike now.
Buck slowly walked past Julius, keeping close to the wall. His own breath sounded hollow, like he was standing in an empty room.
And suddenly he knew what was wrong.
He felt around for a lightswitch... and had no idea how long he just stood there, staring in disbelief.
He heard Julius gasp and more felt like saw him walk into the aparment, stumbling around in shock.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard someone coming up the stairs in a hurry.
"Buck? The jeep's still there, but his bike is... gone..."
Buck did not turn around, did not need to turn around to know that Chris was as shocked as he was.
"What the..."
When Buck finally turned around, he saw Chris step out of the aparment to check the number on the door. It was the first of many times he would do that.
"What..." he whispered when he slowly walked back into the apartment, "what is this? Where..."
Buck slowly shook his head. He had no idea what to say. It was unbelievable.
The whole apartment was empty. No, not just empty. Clean. Eerily clean. Like nobody had been living here for a long time. They slowly walked into what only a week before been a small living room and kitchen - but the furniture was gone. The old TV set was gone. Even the ugly carpet was not there anymore.
"How.." Julius stuttered, looking around with huge eyes. "How is this possible? We never heard or saw anything... I saw him leave on his bike a few days ago... he never said anything! Why would he do this? Where would he go? Why..."
He kept on asking the same questions again and again, but neither Buck nor Chris were really listening. Out of the corner of his eye Buck saw Chris kneel down slowly and was alarmed - but Chris was just picking something up from the ground. It was a wooden charm Vin had sometimes worn on a necklace, sometimes on a bracelet. It was the only thing left of him in the apartment.
Buck turned away, then he walked towards the door. He mumbled a short "I'll call the others," but he was really just trying to get out of there as fast as possible. It was more an instinct then a rational desicion.
This was not true.
Something terrible had happened here and they would find out what.
-----
"What… what if it was all a lie? I mean everything. Three years… what if he never existed?"
Time seemed to slow down and Buck felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He had thought about that too. It was the one question that could destroy everything. Since this FBI personnel file was not a fake, this meant that something was terribly wrong. No one could really live two lives. Well, maybe except Ezra, but that was beside the point. The question here was: what was real… and what was fake? He did not, could not believe that anything Vin had told them about himself – on the few occasions he had done so – could be a lie. No. They had all known the man for three years, considered him a friend, had trusted him with their lives. There was no way in hell anything about him was a lie.
Buck cleared his throat. "So… what do you want to do about this?"
When Chris did not answer, Buck crossed his arms and waited. Finally, Chris gave in.
"I want this to end," he wispered. "I want us to be able to move on. I want to be sure."
Buck could not hide a smile. "Then there is only one way to find out."
----
"Okay," Vivian sighed, looking at the mess of clothes on the table in front of her. "so this is all there was?" The officer from the airport security nodded. "This is the only suitcase Eve McEvoy checked in with aside from a small backpack holding her purse, her passport and a laptop. She was allowed to take that one into the plane with her. She was registered when she checked out, but she obviously forgot the suitcase. Unfortunately, we have no adress here in NYC where we could contact her about it."
"Yes, I know," Vivian interrupted him, feeling a headache coming up. She sighed again and called Sanamtha's cell phone, ignoring everything else.
"Spade."
"I just checked Eve's suitcase," Vivian told her, "there's nothing interesting in it aside from clothes for about a week. The only things she took with her were her purse, her passport and a laptop."
"Okay, the purse and the passport I can understand. But why the laptop? If you are in a hurry, that's just useless weight to carry around," Sam finished, her voice full of doubt.
"Well, maybe the laptop was the only thing that was important enough to her to keep," Vivian tried.
"Wait a second," the security officer piped up. "So you are saying this woman – girl, whatever – did not forget her suitcase, she left it behind on purpose? And only took her laptop?!" Vivian shot im a glare and turned his back to him so that he could not hear what she was saying. "I found something else in her suitcase that might help us." She looked at the little book in her hands. "Obviously, Eve McEvoy had a diary which she often used as a calendar. It doesn't go very far back, just a few weeks. There are no phone numbers, but a lot of stuff that looks like math – calculations and a few names." She could hear Samantha writing down notes.
"What kind of names?" she asked.
"Well and that's the catch", Vivian sighed. "From what I can see, these are internet aliases. Like chatroom – names. Nothing else. No adresses or names that sound like real people."
Samantha groaned. "Oh great. That's not very helpful."
"Maybe it is," Vivian thought aloud. "Think about it: Eve McEvoy gets on a plane to New York without telling anyone. Okay, we don't know what she told her mother yet, but let's just pretend nobody knows anything. She gets here – and something happens that forces her to change plans. She decides to take a risk and leave everything behind except for the essential things."
"And maybe," Samantha caught on, "for a girl who carries around a diary full of the names of chat buddies, her laptop is essential."
"Mhm-mhm," Vivian agreed. "There is nothing else in the suitcase. No books or anything that might indicate other hobbies."
"So, what are you saying?" Samantha asked. "That she's a chat room addict?"
"Or maybe a hacker," Vivian added. "This math stuff could very well be codes for some program."
"What about the security tapes?" Sam asked again, still writing down notes.
"I already checked those," Vivian sighed for the third time. "There's nothing on it. She's there for just a second when she checks out, but then she disappears into the crowd. I'll bring them anyway, maybe techs can find out more. What about you?"
Sam stopped writing and checked her notes. "Not much. Seems like Eve has graduated from high school not long ago and took some time off to earn some money before starting college. Nothing unusual. I have also tried to reach Darlene McEvoy, but she does not answer her phone. According to what I have found out, she is currently unemployed. She has worked as a secretary in a lawyers office, was a shop assistant in a mall and in a bookstore, has helped out in a travel angency – and the list goes on. Looks like she always quit after a few months."
Vivian's eyebrows rose. "Can she afford that?"
Samantha smiled, knowing exactely what that question meant. "I am working on it."
"Good girl."
-------
Jack Malone stayed in the entrance area to the huge open office for a while and just observed. Never before in his life had he felt more out of place in his black suit and tie. On his way up he had met several ATF agents in casual clothing, holding coffee cups, eating food or chatting. There were posters on the walls, plants in almost every corner. Agents walking past each other stopped for a short chat, exchanged notes or simply greeted each other. It seemed like here, the different divisions cooperated much better. Compared to the rare occasions when the MPU had had to cooperate with the JTTF… Jack shuddered. He prefered not to go there. Harrington still hated his guts. And vice versa.
The open office he was in now was calm – he saw four agents at their desks. These desks were all over the place in no real order. Except for one desk at the far wall. The person sitting there would sit with the back to the wall and would be able to overlook the whole room. Including the other desks and the doors. But that desk was empty and did not look like it was used on a regular basis. Mhm.
The whole office was most unusual. The desk the dark haired kid occupied was for example surrounded by soda cans, bags of leftover takeout and … toys? Jack could make out a baseball glove, a blue basketball and some weird looking action figures. In a corner was a small bar with a coffee machine and a refrigerator. Next to that was a couch and a desk in front of a TV set. On the far wall there was a wooden door plastered with post it – notes. Obviously it was some kind of storage room.
His thoughts were interrupted by two of the ATF agents who walked out of a separate office and headed towards him. He recognized Chris Larabee but could not place the second agent. Was that even an agent? The dress code in this building was obviously not very strict.
"Agent Malone," Larabee nodded, "I am sorry but there is something important that I have to see to. My team will fill you in on what we know about the case." With that, Chris walked past him and headed for the elevator.
For a moment Jack was at a loss, then things clicked into place. "Does this have to do with one of my agents?" he asked loudly, his voice cold.
Chris stopped and glared at Malone – who just glared back.
All eyes turned towards them. JD swallowed hard. This was not good. The last thing they needed was a situation like this getting out of control. They did not know Agent Malone, but JD had the nagging feeling that he was just as stubborn as Chris. There was something about him that JD could not place, but he was sure that it was best not to underastimate him.
Finally, Josiah stepped in.
"Please, Agent Malone. If we can help you in any way with this case, we will do so. I am sure Agent Dunne," he nodded towards JD, "can update you about Derringer's file and about Darlene McEvoy."
Jack and Chris glared at each other for a few more moments, then Jack nodded slowly and turned towards JD, dismissing Chris. He had planned to talk to him, but maybe it was better to step back and wait what would happen.
"Okay. We have to talk to Darlene McEvoy as soon as possible."
"She just left," Nathan chimed in, "but we already told her that we might have to talk to her again."
"Okay," Jack nodded, "what did she tell you about Eve?"
Nathan frowned. "The daughter?"
"Yes," Jack hissed, his paitence slipping away. "The daughter. She took a flight to New York a few days ago and has not been seen since then. She is the main reason we are here."
"Oh right," JD grinned. "Missing persons. Of corse. Okay, let's see.." He turned towards his computer screen and clicked on a file.
At the same time, Chris and Buck left the open office without a word.
----
"Wow," Danny stated, looking down at Denver. "Nice view."
After a long elevator ride and a few flights of stairs, they had finally reached the rooftop of the building – and Danny did not really want to know how Martin could have possibly known how to get up here.
Martin walked up next to him and took a deep breath.
"Yeah," he sighed, obviously deep in thoughts. Somewhere along the way he had gotten rid of his suit jacked and his god awfull tie (everybody thought that his ties were ugly), so that he did not look so out of place in this building any more.
Danny crossed his arms. "I am waiting. You did not just drag me up here for the view, remember?"
Martin nodded. "I know. But… I don't really know where to start."
"Well, let me help you out," Danny shot back without missing a beat. "Who is Vin Tanner?"
Martin's eyes widened and for the first time ever Danny could not find a single trace of the Fitzgerald mask that usually hid his friend's emotions so well. No, this was the real deal. So he had hit a nerve. Who would have thought?
"How…" Martin started, but the rest of the sentence was lost to him. This had come unexpected. Danny smiled. "We are FBI agents, remember? It's our job to find out things like these. Throw in a few people who still owed me a a favor…and so I finally found a name. Not much more, but at least that. So I ask you again: who is he?"
Martin still looked at the skyline of the town. "I am," he finally gave in.
Danny nodded slowly but was far from done. "How? And why?"
Martin chuckled to himself and finally turned towards Danny. "Would you believe me if I told you that it just.. kind of happened? That a stupid idea a stubborn teenager had got out of hand?"
Danny was not really sure how to react to this, so he crossed his arms. "Go on."
"I ran away," Martin shrugged, a kind of sad smile on his face. "It's a simple as that. When I was a kid, talking back to my father had been some kind of game for me. A sport. He wanted me to do boring things, so I did the complete opposite. But when I got older, I realised that he had obviously planned out my entire life without asking me what I wanted. That scared the shit out of me and the arguments became more serious. It got to a point where we could not stay in the same room without starting a shouting match. He wanted me to go into politics, so he decided what college I would go to to achieve that goal. He told me that friends would only get in the way if you wanted a successful career. And that was the most important thing for him. Success. Influence. Power. I wanted nothing like that. It was like a war at home. I did not want to end up like that, with a huge but cold house, a job that eats up my life and nothing else to turn to. So after my first few weeks at college, I ran."
Danny tilted his head, like he had expected something like that. "And then what?" he asked. "You decided to join the rangers?" That part of the story was still a mystery to Danny.
"Not really," Martin answered, smiling. "I had little money and almost everything I had fit into one backpack. So I hitchhiked…"
"You what?!" Danny interrupted him, his eyes wide. "That's what you meant when you told us that you hitchhiked through the states? You did this when you were a KID?!"
Martin felt himself blush. "Yeah. Kind of. Not for very long though. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. Of corse I called every now and then to let them know that I was okay."
"And then you joined the Rangers," Danny interrupted him again, fixated on that idea.
"I was getting to that, but yes. I did my four years."
Danny snorted. "You say that like it's nothing!"
Martin shrugged again. "It was long ago, Danny. Get over it."
"The hell I will! But go on. Don't mind me. Just tell me why you did that."
"Honestly?" Martin turned serious again. "Because I was sure that my father would not look for me there.Because I was good at it. And because they did not ask many questions."
Danny pointed at him, finally catching on. "So that was when Vin Tanner was born."
"Yes," Martin agreed, taking a deep breath. Danny frowned. "But why Tanner?"
For a moment, Martin seemed to be unsure about answering that question. Then he shrugged, "It was my mother's last name."
Danny flinched. "Whoa, wait. Then Anne Fitzgerald isn't…"
Martin took a step back. "It's a long story," he stated firmly, making it clear that he would not discuss that topic.
"Okay," Danny retreated. He decided to let it go for now, but filed it away for later use. "But why Vin!?" Yes, that was a good question.
Martin fidgeted for a moment and mumbled something. "What?" Danny asked, a lot louder than necessary. "I didn't quite catch that."
"It's… it's a middle name kind of thing," Martin repeated and blushed again.
Had the situation been different Danny would have thought of this as amusing, but he was still not done.
"So you left the rangers – and then? You joined the ATF?" This was still more than weird. Martin hesitated for a moment. "Not immediately."
Danny huffed, his paitence finally gone. Everything he had thought he knew about his friend was now worthless. It was a lot to take in. No, it was insane.
"Just one question," Danny stated after trying to sort out the chaos in his mind. "Was… was there ever a moment when you thought that someone might find out?"
Martin hesitated, not really sure how to deal with that question. He had always tried to keep those two lives apart and sometimes that had been difficult.
"Oh. I…" Martin sighed. "Well, you got it covered pretty well when you questioned me in the office the other day. The Anwar Samir case, Greg Pritchard…"
"Uhuh. Anything else?"
Martin seemed to think about this for a moment, then he grinned.
"Prince's Bail Bonds."
Danny frowned. "What?"
"Jessica Prince. You know, the cop gone bounty hunter who was investigating…"
"Yeah right, I remember. What about her? Did you know her?"
"No, not Jesse. But you asked about a moment when I really thought someone would find out. Well, I think it was on that case, when Jack questioned Lorraine Prince in her office for the first time. I kept in the background and read through her casefiles. Then I had to ask her about missing files – and god, I was so scared she'd recognize me."
"Recognize you? But why should she…" Danny's frown deepened.
Martin turned away like it was nothing important. "Well, I met her. Once. I helped her out."
"You did what?" Danny was lost. "Why should you…" Then his eyes widened. "No. You're not telling me that you… no. Oh come on. You can't be serious. YOU?"
Martin shrugged. "Well, let's just say I have been in New York before. Besides, everybody has to eat."
"You are telling me you were a… you… you went hunting down bail jumpers?"
"Yeah. That so hard to believe?"
Danny snorted. "Well yes. I mean…sorry. I just can't see it."
Danny stared at him for a while, trying to see the man Martin was describing here, a kid who had done four years with the rangers as a sharpshooter and then… It was just not there. Sure, sometimes there was something about Martin, an edge that Danny had seen on rare occasions. Most of the time it had vanished as fast as it had appeared. Aside from that, Martin had a temper which flared from time to time… but a sharpshooter? An ATF agent? A BOUNTY HUNTER?! What the hell was next?! Superman?
"Okay," Danny said slowly, "let me get this straight. After your time with the rangers, you did what? You became a bounty hunter?"
Martin shrugged again. "Yes."
"And you did that for a living," Danny repeated, just to be sure.
"Yes."
"And then you decided to move to Denver and joined the ATF."
"No," Martin interrupted him. "It was.. well, I had moved around a lot, not really settling down anywhere. After the rangers I had sworn to myself that I would never again just blindly follow orders. I wanted to work alone. So that's basically what I did. When I came to Denver I had been hunting down this guy for weeks. I had planned to leave after a week or so – but then I met Chris and the boys. And the rest happened pretty fast."
They went silent for a few minutes and while Martin was thinking about his past, Danny tried to take it all in.
"One more thing," he kept going, "down at the lobby you told me that there was an accident. What kind of accident did you mean?"
Martin did not answer right away and when he did, he sounded like he was far away. "I don't remember much. But obviously I lost control over my bike and then… it's all kind of fuzzy from there."
Danny crossed his arms. "Mhm mhm – wait. You… you have a BIKE?!"
"Had," Maritn corrected, not quite catching the incredulous look an Danny's face. "According to the report, there was not much left…"
"You had a bike?!" Danny repeated, his voice louder now.
"Yes," Martin answered again, still not seeing the point.
"Oh come on," Danny huffed, "you were a bounty hunter, you had a bike? Next you are going to tell me you had a horse…"
When Martin didn't answer right away, Danny's eyes turned huge. Then he lifted his hands in mock surrender.
"No wait, please. I so do not want to know."
For a while, they stood next to each other, looking down at the town. The tension was not there any more and for a moment it felt like every normal day at work. It was one of the moments Danny knew why they worked so well together. Still, there were a lot of questions left. Danny decided to ask the one question that seemed the most important to him.
"Tell me, Martin… how much of Vin Tanner was real? I mean… was that really you? Or did you just make him up?"
Before Martin could answer, another voice spoke up from behind them. A cold voice.
"Yes, tell him. Because I would like to know too."
-----
"Hey," Vivian greeted Samanta when she arrived back at the office, the box with the security tapes from the airport in one hand, Eve McEcoy's calendar in the other. Samantha did not react but was instead just staring at her computer screen. Vivian frowned and walked over to her desk. "What's wrong?"
"You won't believe this," Sam whispered and pointed at the screen. "There's a file on Eve McEvoy."
Vivian's frown deepened. "Why? What did she do?"
"You were right," Sam went on like she hadn't heard. "Obviously she IS a hacker. About three and a half years ago, she hacked into the computer systems of several banks in Denver. Because she was fourteen back then, they could not do much about it, but she had to work social hours for about a year and was not allowed to get even close to anything resembling a computer for three years."
"That would explain why her calendar does not go very far back," Vivian caught on, looking at the small book in her hands.
"This is crazy," Sam whispered. "I mean - nothing of this makes any sense! Or is this just me?"
Vivian thought about that for a moment, then she shrugged. "I'll get these tapes to the techs, see if they can find out anything. We should contact Jack and the others as fast..."
In that moment, the phones in Jack's office and at Vivian's desk started ringing at the same time.
Vivian walked over to her desk to answer the phone, then she stopped in mid motion.
"What?" Sam asked, sounding alarmed.
"Van Doren," Vivian simply answered. Sam was out of her chair within seconds and hastily went to answer Jack's phone. A moment later she turned around and walked back towards Vivian, without even touching the still ringing phone. She was pale.
"It's Victor Fitzgerald's secretary."
----
To be continued
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BWAHAHA! I know I am evil. I had so planned to finish the story with this chapter, but I did not have enough time for that. I know that there is again not much happening in this chapter - and I am SORRY!! But I promise to update soon. hugs to you all and MERRY CHRISTMAS!!