Part 12. Of Lions and Snakes

The voices were muffled through the thick, wooden door, but with one ear placed to the smooth surface, she was able to make out most of the them. Comfortable in her long-standing position in the relative fortress and not afraid of the consequences of being caught eavesdropping, Suzy slid down the stone wall and sat cross-legged by the door, curling her bare feet beneath her and listening intently to the conversation taking place within the walls. She had been living there so long now, she was like a permanent fixture that was often overlooked by the assortment of people that came and went… and it had been a long, long time since she had been curious enough about anything enough to put herself out of her way.

She had returned with Jake that morning from her short-lived trip to the city, aware of the tension that the shoot-out the night before had caused. She knew that, despite Turner's word that Decker had started the trouble, there would be something in the works to avenge their club members' deaths. Experience taught her that the actions need not be justified, merely condoned by the club's leaders.

So far, she had heard Billy growl about the law, angry that they were starting to interfere in their activities too much. She pressed her ear further to the flat surface and heard his familiar voice responding to Jakes suggestion that they retaliate against the police before the funeral procession set for Thursday. As usual, the President's low, throaty words sounded as though he'd just finished smoking three packets of cigarettes...

"I'd decided to wait until the funeral to strike - lull them into a false sense of security. By then the bastards wouldn't think we're gonna do anythin'. They'd beef up public security so much for the procession, they wouldn't be watchin' their own backs... but I want to get that truck out of the city and doin' somethin' now might be a good way to cover it. Plus, Bale's starting to make me nervous."

Inside the office Jake gave a dry laugh. He hadn't seen nervousness in his old friend's sharp eyes since they were kids... maybe not even then.

"Again? He always panics when we're ready to move."

"Yeah, he's starting to get to me. Either he gets his shit together or we need to look at a new manager for the

facility..." which meant he would have him retired, permanently. "I wanna send someone out to put the pressure on, someone who can use some brains this time, not just go down there looking for a fight."

"I'll look into it... So, once the shipment's gone, what've you got in mind for the cops?" Whatever Billy masterminded would fall on him to execute, so he needed to pay attention - it was his job, after all. He watched as Billy pulled out a large envelope from his drawer and tipped photographs onto his desk.

"We'll hit them at the source," Billy said, laying several photographs together. "There's been a lot of activity lately at the top end. They want to beef up their force against us? We need to let them know we ain't standin' for it. That's another reason I want to hit back now."

Jake craned his neck to look at the photos as Billy continued.

"I'm not gonna sit back while the motherfuckers put together a specialist team to wipe us out. If we stay quiet and let them gather `round us, then we'll have somethin' to worry about."

"What specialist team?" This was news to him.

Billy made a 'tsk tsk' noise as he shook his head. "You're slipping, old friend. There was a time you would have known about it before me... You're getting too complacent in your old age."

Jake merely grinned. "No, you're just getting more paranoid."

"And this time it's paid off... The bastards have put together a team, for the sole purpose of wiping us out."

Jake wasn't grinning any more. "Levitz tell you this?" He'd spoken with Levitz about the girl that morning and the bastard hadn't said anything to him then.

"Yeah. Said the man in charge, Larabee, is gonna be trouble."

Jake paused at the name. "Nice of him to let us know," he shook his head. "Larabee's already causing trouble."

Billy looked up from the photographs. "How's that?"

"He was the one in charge at the shooting last night."

Billy swore. So they had already made their first move...

"Levitz wouldn't have said anything if he didn't want them out of the picture. He doesn't want anyone encroaching on his turf. And why haven't we heard about this team before now?" Jake said, pissed off that none of their other connections had given them this news.

"Well, we know now, so I want to deliver a message before they get up and running. We'll hit direct, no mediator. Hell, not even the boys back in Texas have a team assigned to them no more, I sure ain't standin' for it. It's gonna cause problems, even if we've covered all our bases, it's gonna create too much work for us. We can't risk a bust until we offload that shipment."

"I thought after Texas they'd lay off for a while at least."

Billy thought about that a moment, then looked up from the photos and said in a curious voice, "We really should thank Turner for that one of these days."

Outside, Suzy's ears pricked up at the name and she heard a cold laugh.

"I think Decker thanked him enough for everyone. You remember what he looked like when he was through beatin' on him? Ain't seen a kid that fucked up since Mikey Robson down in California that time after the New Year run."

Another cold laugh.

"Least Turner kept all his organs - Got the Fed budget cut in Texas after that too."

"You know he's stayin' out here for a while?"

Billy nodded. "Sugar called me a few weeks back, soundin' like a mama bear worryin' 'bout her cub." He wasn't sure what that call had been about, but he'd definitely heard something strange and unfamiliar in the Enforcer's voice.

"Don't know what the fuck he thought I'd do, buy the kid flowers or somethin'?"

Jake knew how much his old friend hated the long standing club Enforcer. Theirs was a mutual, open dislike that went back as long as he could remember. They'd both been in the club as long as each other and had clashed to the day Billy had left to start up his own chapter.

Jake pointed to the pictures. "So, what have we got here?"

"These are the top players." He pulled one picture out from behind the others. "Murphy you already know."

Jake nodded. "But why now? He's been on our back for years."

"On his own he's been ineffective, but he's been bringing in other players to shut us down - and they're the guys we need to take out."

"Who's this?" Jake asked, nodding at a photograph of a stern looking, middle-aged man in a military uniform,

standing in a rigid pose.

"Benning. Former military. He's been brought in to help out Murphy. Target number one," he finished darkly.

"What about Murphy?"

Billy moved Benning aside to reveal a picture of another man in uniform, this time a younger man, with a half smile, his sharp green eyes peering against the sun into the camera. Beside the picture was another, of the same man in a police uniform, receiving some sort of award at a ceremony.

"He can wait. This is Larabee. Benning recruited him from his old outfit."

Jake shook his head. "Why are we only finding out about this now?" he said again. Something in the web of their reach had failed.

Billy went for yet another cigarette, shaking his head. "I think Levitz knew before this... I think the prick sat on it for a while." He sniggered then, "But you're right, the old fool wants his town back now and he doesn't like all this new blood on his turf."

Jake studied the pictures and took a cigarette from Billy. "He's old school. Only a matter of time before they put him out to pasture."

"He can be anything he wants, so long as he knows his place."

That reminded Jake of another important matter. "Speaking of Turner, Levitz's boys really did a number on him."

Billy studied Jake then, slightly amused at the thought of what Sugar would say about that. "Under your order?"

Jake shrugged, lighting his smoke and taking a quick drag. "After I called you I decided to give him a message. Sugar's protege or not, it didn't sit right that he walked away from last night with just a scratch when everyone else got bagged."

"Thought you said he was bein' straight with you..."

There was a pause and outside the door Suzy found she was holding her breath. If Jake gave the word that Turner was suspect, he was as good as dead – and she knew how quickly such life-altering decisions could be made. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly actions could start in Billy's office. With the word of one man, another's life could be changed forever.

"Well, he did take one in the side, he was bleedin' all over Chooks' new carpet," that memory brought a smile to Jake's face, remembering how the bar manager had then tensed up as he'd butted out his cigarette on the newly prized fabric, yet had said nothing to him in protest. "And Decker was pretty wired when he left to find him, I can see how he mighta got them in trouble... but I think maybe Turner didn't try as hard as he could have to help 'em. There was no love lost between him and Decker, maybe he let him fall..."

"I heard they got into it before the cops turned up."

"Yeah, Chooks had two hundred riding on Decker, he's mighty pissed about it."

"Levitz would've gotten a kick out of taking one of our boys down. That old prick hates us with every bone in his body and you gave him a license to do something he's wanted to do for years. I'm surprised the kid's alive."

Jake looked at Billy then and realised the other man was pissed off. "He's breathing well enough," he said a little defensively. He knew what was coming.

"We take care of our own, I don't want that clown thinking he has any power over our boys, no matter where they're from. It's us against them, always will be, you remember that."

Jake met the reprimand with a steady gaze and waited what he thought was an appropriate length of time to show his regret before speaking. "He's off the hook with the rape charge." He raised his eyebrows to show what he was about to say was significant and Billy's chin lifted in response. "The girls' had a sudden change of heart. Seems they decided they'd made everything up and the forensic reports came up negative."

Billy was confused. "Who..?"

Jake shrugged. "I'm guessing it was Sugar... He was pissed off as hell that Turner was taking the fall for this. I should have known when I saw him earlier that he'd do something."

Billy scowled, blowing smoke from his nose as he spoke. "And now he's told Eddie fuck knows what... How the hell did he get here so quick?"

Jake just shook his head, Sugar had seemed to appear out of thin air. There was no way he could have ridden the distance from Texas to Denver after finding out about the shooting. He would have had to have been on the road by then. And the club president was definitely not going to like the fact that they had set one of his own boys up for a fall.

"So who took the girl?" Billy was curious.

"The boys say it was Judd, and seeing's how he's disappeared somewhere in town, it probably was."

Billy whistled. Judd was Decker's brother.

Jake nodded. "Yeah... I've got some boys lookin' for him."

"What is it with that family?"

"The Texas boys are already turnin' up. They're gonna be pissed about Turner, we gotta have some answers and they're gonna want payback. I'm surprised Sugar hasn't been in here doin' a song an' dance yet. The boys tell me he's hanging around the hospital."

Billy got mad. "I don't give a fuck what Sugar's doing, just get him the hell out of my state before I have to do

something I regret. You still got boys down the hospital?"

"Yeah, there were some fed's hangin' `round his room earlier. The boys are gonna move in to make sure they stay the hell away. Sugar isn't going to go anywhere while Turner's laid up and now we're gonna have the whole Texas chapter headin' up here for the funeral. It's gonna be one hell of a procession, we got boys from all over the damn country headin' here by Thursday."

"It's the last thing we fuckin' need right now. And the last thing I wanted was more attention from the cops right now."

Jake understood Billy's frustration. Just when their operation was starting to really take off and they were keeping their heads down to avoid Eddie's ever-watchful eye, everything had gone to hell. If the President found out about everything they had going on without his knowledge, he'd try and shut them down without stopping to blink.

"Well there isn't much we can do about it now. We still have to move that truck before anyone gets here, take care of the funeral and send a little message to the cops to keep them back, then things'll go back to normal."

They were quiet a moment, both knowing it was going to be a trial getting through the next week.

Jake shifted the photos around again, pointing his cigarette to the picture of Benning. "So, how we gonna take this guy out..?"

..

"Need a hand up there, honey?"

Suzy jumped. High. But she recovered smoothly, smiling lazily up at the skinny frame of Warren Lance, where he stood leering down at her with a knowing expression on his sharp, bearded face. It was a long, scraggly beard that made her itchy just looking at it, with a head shaved clean of its dirty blonde hair and a multitude of multicoloured tattoo's creeping up his neck and into his non-existent hairline.

"I'm waiting to talk to Billy."

"I'll bet you are…" his voice was so smug it infuriated her.

She stood with her natural slow grace and eased a crick out of her lower back with exaggerated show.

"Think I'll wait and see him later - catch some more sleep."

She walked off, not looking back to see Warren's grin follow her down the entrance hall of the massive complex. She was thinking about Turner and about the men that had been marked for a hit, for nothing more than opposing their belief system. This world was a dark, sad place, she decided again, for the millionth time that week. One day she was going to escape it, return to the life she had thought was so bad before. Firstly, though, she thought as she yawned wide, maybe she would catch some more sleep. It looked like the next

few days leading up to the funeral were going to be full ones.

..

Chris Larabee's contentment was premature. Having felt as if he'd achieved the harder part of his mission that day, he'd left the hospital with a sense of satisfaction and progression, rostering his men to watch Tanner's room while he finalised the transfer. Unbeknownst to him, contentment was far from apparent in the injured agent's mind. In the long and silent hours after Larabee left his room, broken only by brief visits from some of the members of the club, Vin felt his mood darken around him like a thick mantle that he could not shake. In spite of his conversation with the ATF Captain, or perhaps as a result of it, he could not help but feel like his life was veering out of control. Whether Larabee knew it or not, he'd given him much to think about – and stuck in the hospital like he was, he'd had no choice but to dwell on his thoughts.

All his life he'd been searching, never stopping to question his goal or his motives. He wanted to find his father, and he wanted revenge. Now, with just a few conversations with a relative stranger, he was unsure of his purpose. Would taking his father down bring him peace? Was it his death he really wanted? What if there was no satisfaction in that, no answer to the question he really wanted answered - how could a man kill his own wife? Take a mother from her child and leave that child to his own fate? Everything that had seemed so clear, the path that had seemed to be sharpening before his weary feet, now seemed unsure.

For the first time, he was facing the idea of what life held for him beyond his one ambition, was confronted with the burden of wondering whether he actually cared… and what scared him the most, was right at that moment, he didn't. Life seemed pointless, a waste of time. What had he managed to achieve in his years if his sole aim was meaningless?

By the time his door opened in the late afternoon and the young agent Dunne popped his head in, he was more than frustrated, he was lost and he was ready to strike out at anything that crossed his path. It took only a few terse words and a scowl to clear the kid from his room, but he took no pleasure in that. He just wanted to be left alone and despite the constant sound of the driving rain outside his room, he was uncomfortably warm, though the nurse merely gave him a smile of indulgence when he happened to mention it.

Members from the club checked in on him, but only Charlie he actually knew well. The boys from Texas would be coming soon, though. At least then he would have his own boys watching his back. Outlaws though they may be, they were loyal ones. Charlie, too, told him that he would be happier when they weren't so alienated at the hospital. The massive man spent most of the time sleeping in the corner chair, tired from the long ride up and snoring loudly.

Unlike most people that took one look at the tattoo-covered, intimidating man, Vin took a measure of comfort in his presence. He'd known him nearly as long as he had Keg and liked him well enough. In any case, he was someone to watch his back... when he was awake that was.

When the sky had darkened into evening, he realised that Charlie must have either gone to get food or a decent bed. He decided then that he'd had enough of lying in the bed immobile, stifled by the starched, thin sheet and listening to the faint patter of rain driving down the thick window of his room. He managed to win the struggle to get his hospital issued shirt over his head to bring some coolness to his chest and after a moments contemplation, pulled the sheet back and shifted his legs over the side of the bed to touch his bare feet to the cool floor below with a grimace of effort and pain.

He sat breathing quietly for a moment, feeling his ribs realign with every slight movement, the damage the bullet had caused to his flesh and muscle more evident than ever as his skin tugged and protested the sudden activity. He fingered the bandage over his side, knowing that underneath there would be yet another scar to add to his collection. He no longer cared how neat the stitches were when he got them, only that he survived long enough for someone to put them in.

He eyed the window, his goal, and not for a second doubted he would reach it, for his determination was a powerful force to reckon with at the best of times – and he had been couped up for too long. First, testing his weight on his knee, he was relieved to find the pain greatly diminished, no doubt helped by the thick supporting brace he could feel beneath the cotton of his pants and so began the slow shuffle over to the wide panel of glass. More of an ordeal than he would have liked, but well worth the effort once he was seated, his skin alight with a thin sheen of moisture, on the thick wooden ledge, the blinds opened with weak fingers to reveal the lights of the city beyond the white walls of his room. With a final exhale that was a mixture of pure relief and contentment he leant forward to peer at the streetlights below and looked out at the free space beyond his reach with a hard won measure of satisfaction, one hand resting protectively over his side and the other raised to hold his palm flat to the cool glass.

The memory of his imprisonment, albeit undercover as he had been, was still far too fresh in his mind and mixed with his childhood fear of closed spaces, he was provoked to near panic when confronted with an enclosed area for too long. To say he had been steadily going nuts for the past several hours was an understatement, and so it was with another contented sigh that he took in the view beyond the wet pane, feeling a much-needed sense of freedom with the feel of the cool air on his chest, coming from the proximity of his skin to the cold glass before him. The city, albeit crowded with buildings, was indeed a welcome sight and finally, finally, his troubled mind quieted for a blessed moment.

Gone were the sounds of the hospital beyond his door; the too loud television of the patient beyond his thin wall who liked to watch the news channel at maximum volume; the memory of Charlie's steadily paced snoring that had driven him quietly mad; the sounds of the nurses chattering at the station not too far from his door; and the thoughts that were just as loud within his mind.

Quiet. Illusive peace; the things he craved most.

As if on cue, a police siren sounded down the street below, but he now felt disconnected from the view before him - merely an observer from above. Nobody could see him from his vantage point as he waited for the sight of the police car that would accompany the familiar noise. He felt no sense of anticipation as his keen eyes watched the street – watched for anything out of place. It was habit, which he'd developed at a young age.

Finally the marked car came into view with a flashy show of interchanging red and blue lights, casting rapid fire down deserted alleyways as the vehicle approached and then passed in the blink of an eye, not bothering with the red light of the signals below. Then once more the streetlights were left alone to keep their ever-silent vigil along the darkened street. Only the sharp gaze piercing down from the lonely hospital window above was left carrying a lasting reflection of the blue and red energy that had sliced through the street a moment before.

He had never seen so many flashing police lights until that day… Only a short time after he last saw his father in the flesh. It was still hard to take in - that he was so close to seeing him again. He tried to envision the moment, to get a sense of how he might react. In his mind, he would be neutral, cold even… yet he sensed that was a lie he was making, even to himself.

Some time later, far beyond the boundaries of his room as he was, he missed the barely-there knock that rapped at his door, well lost in a time that he carried with each and every step that he took. As he swallowed back the unpalatable tightness that had built in his throat, he became aware of men cautiously taking silent steps into his room.

Josiah stopped Chris from stepping further forward with a gentle but firm hand to his arm. His shook his head at the questioning gaze, communicating that perhaps they should not intrude on Vin Tanner's thoughts. Yet one look at the haunted profile of the lean man by the window and he knew he had work to do.

Chris felt Josiah's restraining hand but something was telling him to ignore it. For the first time, he was witnessing the full depth of the pain that his new agent was harbouring. Vin's clearly defined profile was revealed by the moonlight beyond the window and it was not just the cuts and bruises and bandages that gave away his pain, it was in the set of his jaw - the glint of his eye as he stared beyond this world to something unseen. The fact that he had not acknowledged their entrance was disturbing enough, but the unexpected sight of him sitting up as he was by the window was a shock, having fully expected him to be in bed.

"You boys tryin'a get me killed, showin' up here again?"

Chris blinked and saw that Vin's eyes had lost their intense stare, but were no less focused, cutting across the dim length of space toward him. He couldn't see his expression clearly, with his back to the light of the window as it was, but knew he had a point. There were bikers everywhere, he couldn't afford to have the ATF taking up residence in his room.

"Need you to sign some papers," he said by way of reply, then after a brief pause, "Should you be up?"

Vin gave a wry smile that Chris had thought to ask. "Was goin' nuts lyin' there."

He dropped the arm that had been holding his weight against the window back to his lap as he turned on the ledge to face them, but not before Chris again had a view of the tattoo beneath his arm, although he still could not make out what it was. He had to admit, with the platitude of bruises, cuts and old scars that he could see clearly on Vin's torso, his upper body looked like one big array of inked patterning. He could also make out a small version of the club tattoo on the inside of his forearm. That was a commitment he didn't think he himself could make, but he understood that Vin would have had to do it and it seemed he'd managed to get away with putting it in a less prominent position.

Cautiously, he entered further into the room, Josiah closing the door and moving with him, and kept his voice low.

"This is Agent Sanchez, another member of the team. Josiah, this is Vin Tanner."

Josiah put out a hand as he reached the window. "Pleased to meet you Vin."

"Likewise," Vin said, taking the hand briefly, wincing at the movement.

Josiah frowned at the mess the man was in. Still, he correctly sensed that physical pain was not what was truly troubling him.

"This might not be the best place ta take care'a this, one'a the boys could walk back in any second."

"We've got someone on the door." Chris told him, his eyes telling him he knew he was trying to put them off.

An awkward silence fell in which Vin had the sudden urge to confront Larabee over the fact that he had provoked the unbidden onslaught of thoughts in his head. It was this son of a bitch that had brought on all of this unwanted thinking, so it was only right that he should be here to bear witness to the seed he'd wittingly planted – now a thorny formation of confusion and anger.

"You sure will be a colourful addition to the team," Josiah said, openly looking him over and assessing his injuries.

Vin couldn't find a smile right then, he had been too deep in contemplation when they had entered to offer idle chatter. He saw the paperwork in Chris's hands and felt like grabbing it and tearing it apart. Obviously Larabee was concerned he was going to back out on his deal, if he had come down here to make sure that he signed it asap. Hell... maybe he'd been intending to do just that.

He studied Josiah's profile, using the light that shadowed his face from the window behind to read the man's face thoroughly. He saw kindness in the wide-set eyes and moved on, rejecting it. He offered no inlet for conversation for he did not want any. In fact, all he really wanted right then was to be left the hell alone.

In the stretching silence he felt suddenly raw, correctly sensing that the massive man was looking into him, probing into his mind unwanted. It was unsettling and it was unwelcome. He felt understandably exposed in the dim light and the silence of his room and had to fight to keep his manner calm. He had an unfamiliar urge to fidget, something he never did.

If Josiah was put off by the hard glint in the shadowed blue eyes before him, he didn't show it. He glanced quickly at Chris, who had come to the same realisation - that JD's concern and frantic call earlier had been founded. Their young team-mate had reported that their soon to be fellow agent was in a foul mood indeed and Chris had brought in the best ammunition he could think of – Josiah Sanchez, aka psychology expert and not to mention, ex-preacher. If Vin was wavering in his decision, he wanted to know right away, but more than that if he needed help, he wanted to make sure he had the best.

He took a slow breath as he studied the lean form by the window and the thought that Vin Tanner did not belong in this white, sterile room came to mind. He noted the deceptively calm face, turmoil given away only by a tightened jaw and one hand, which was somewhat clenched into the folds of his light blue cotton pants. The bruises and cuts marring his face were vivid even in the low light and would take some time to heal. He looked wild, almost, with his hair unkempt and his shirt missing and even though he was seated facing them, his body remained half-turned to the night, as if he would rather take his chances out the window than spend any more time closed up within these four walls.

Josiah used the pause to make an important conclusion. This was indeed a soul troubled – and he didn't need a degree to see that. Chris had certainly brought a challenge to the fold – one he welcomed with open arms, for that was his nature.

Vin pulled himself up higher against the window just as a short, sharp cough chose to cut through his chest, causing him to bend forward with the sudden, sharp pain. He knew only too well what a broken rib felt like and knew it was going to be a long road ahead until he could draw breath without any pain. One hand held his ribs as if he could stop them from shifting, yet he still managed to scowl at the men who stepped forward to help him, stopping himself just short of snarling at them.

Josiah held out a hand as he stepped back from the scowling man that looked ready to bite him if he tried to help him again. He'd moved too quickly, he realised. This was not a man that would accept a stranger's help, if anyone's, readily. He spoke into what he thought might become an eternal silence with apparent nonchalance.

"This stuff will only take a second, we just need a signature or two... do you want to look it over here, or back over there," he nodded toward the empty bed.

Vin looked back up through the hair that had fallen about his face, his chest still locked tight in fear of another cough. He felt the tension beneath his fingers in the muscle that lay over his ribs. Damn them, they weren't going to go away until he gave them what they wanted.

Chris watched as Vin balanced on his feet, pushing off the ledge behind him and slowly making his way back to the bed. He didn't move to help, knowing that it would not be accepted. It was a slow minute before Tanner was sitting up on the stiff mattress again, reaching for his cotton shirt and taking a long time getting it back on. He didn't bother with the buttons, just stared at them expectantly as if to ask them why the hell they were so complicated. The smile that came to Chris's lips was unexpected and drew a further frown from Tanner, yet he didn't bother to explain and he knew Vin would not ask him to as he watched his scowl deepen. This was one ornery son of a bitch, but a damn proud one, he had to give him that.

Relieved to have something to do, anything to avoid the assessing eyes and that all knowing, annoying grin that had surfaced on Larabee's face, Vin settled himself and took the file Josiah handed to him and began to read the printed words, all the while feeling those green eyes studying him. He was unable to focus, finding he had to reread the first paragraph three times before he finally looked up in growing anger at Chris, wishing he had his gun with him at that second. That'd wipe that smug look off his face...

"Somethin' on yer mind?"

But Chris's smile only widened, as if he had anticipated the snap of anger. It wasn't mocking, but it was sure as hell provoking.

"No, just thankful you haven't got your gun handy. I imagine you're seeing my head as a target right about now."

Vin's scowl fled and his expression caused Chris to actually chuckle out loud.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Vin stared for another full second before he felt his lip curl. This man had him so off balance and yet, his presence was not in the least out of place. In fact, he wasn't surprised at all that Larabee had read him like a book. It felt almost satisfying to have somebody understand him, to not judge him by his burst of anger as most would. Larabee had seen past his snapping defence in a second and it felt reassuring, as if suddenly he was not so alone in the world. He shook his head as he looked back down at his papers.

"Take it any damn way you want."

Chris moved to the window, as he had earlier that day, leaving Josiah to annoy their latest team-mate by his close proximity to the bed alone. He had to tip his hat to Josiah, he wasn't the least put off by the mumbled cursing from the lowered head of tangled hair.

Vin was glad when Josiah's massive frame finally sat on the chair by the bed, bringing him down to a less glaring height. After a full five minutes of silence, in which time Vin managed to get through half a page, his mind anywhere but on the contract he was faced with, he heard a muttering from Josiah, but did not catch the words. The man's calm served only to heighten his frustration until he finally looked up sharply.

"Ya got somethin' ya wanna say?"

"No..."

Satisfied, Vin looked back down.

"… but it seems to me you got a heap of weight pressin' on your shoulders there, son…"

Incredulous, Vin looked back up, his disbelief clear in his expressive eyes.

"Sometimes, just giving your thoughts a voice can help."

Vin studied his face, not interested in getting into his personal problems with the man, or anyone else for that matter. Was everyone in this town so damn nosy?

"That's right team-like of ya an' all, but I reckon my troubles're my own." He gave a small nod of finality that indicated he considered the subject closed. When Josiah nodded in return a moment later, he sighed inwardly in relief… just before the deep voice started up again and he found himself biting back a curse of frustration.

"Thought you should know though, what you've got there in your hands," Josiah nodded to the unread papers still held in Vin's fingers, "signs you up as the seventh member of a close-knit team. I like to think of the seven of us as... brothers... and that includes you now."

Vin hiked a brow at that as he studied the sincerity on the weathered face, exasperated beyond patience. "Ya don't even know me, why is it you fellers're so ready to trust a man ya don't even know?"

"Chris's faith is good enough for me," Josiah said with a slight shrug of his enormous shoulders.

Vin glanced at Chris who merely shrugged and looked back out the window. Shaking his own head he returned to the paperwork. He had seen for himself the type of man Larabee was. He was a leader that commanded loyalty, but did not have to ask for it. He was someone you wanted to have respect you.

"Son, I don't pretend to know your story, but there's something you should know about me."

Vin looked up again at the tone Josiah used, like he was about to reveal a dark secret and found he was curiously not annoyed as the term `son' was applied to him, again.

"See, I got what some people in modern society might call a curse..."

Vin searched for a hint of humour in the weathered face but found none, although it was ever-present in the deep voice and in the words of utter sincerity that he spoke. He looked again to Chris, but saw that the blond man was still affecting indifference, looking out the window.

"...Seems I'm destined to live this life always giving a damn about my fellow man, most especially those closest to me. I can't help but try and step in, in my own subtle way, if I feel that one of the flock is wandering."

Vin frowned. "Ya sound like a preacher."

"Or a sheppard," Chris quipped without turning from the window.

"Was once," Josiah said, ignoring his leader.

"A sheppard?" Vin asked with a straight face, to which Josiah just gave a small smile, letting him know he couldn't deflect his way out of the conversation. Somehow he wasn't surprised that this man had been a preacher. "So ya decided collar'n others was pref'rable ta collar'n yerself?" It wasn't really a question and Vin wondered why he'd even voiced it. He wasn't a man to throw words away lightly. Frustrated that he was again unbalanced, he shook his head and looked the ex-preacher in the eye. "No need ta worry about me wanderin' far, Jo'siah, Larabee'll make sure'a that."

Chris grinned in acknowledgement from the window but did not turn, he did not dispute the words. To Vin's surprise, Josiah chuckled, a deep rumbling that came from well within his broad chest.

"You might just be right on that one." His voice turned serious once more. "You don't seem a man to share burden's lightly, and I can't pretend I have any idea what might be troublin' you, but I can imagine how hard this must be on you... You've been undercover a long time with these guys and as gigs go, this one can't be a picnic..."

Vin's face remained neutral, not sure where Josiah was going with this. Larabee had obviously brought him in to make sure the paperwork was completed, but if the man was waiting for him to join in the conversation, he'd be waiting a long time. After a long moment he actually thought Josiah had decided to remain silent, so with a lingering, wary glance he looked back down to the papers, only to be interrupted again as the deep voice started up once more.

"I noticed your tattoo when you were over by the window before."

Vin flicked him a glance but kept reading while Josiah rolled up his shirtsleeve enough to show his forearm and turned his arm so that Vin could see a faded tattoo on the underside.

"Thought you might recognise this creature."

Vin glanced at the image held out to him and realised that he did indeed recognise it, although he wasn't sure of its meaning. Curiosity getting the better of him he lifted his head higher and took a better look. The many-headed snake curled around the skin of the massive arm, disappearing into the sides and rounding to the front. He was surprised, for Josiah had obviously recognised his own tattoo, of the same ancient Thai origin, something few rarely did. He was uncomfortable with the feeling of giving something of himself away, however little it was.

"Naga," he said after a long moment. King snake.

Josiah nodded and Vin noticed that this turn in conversation had peaked Chris's own curiosity when he stepped towards them. He knew Josiah expected him to ask him about the significance of the creature, but remained silent, as was his way. People would reveal what they wanted to in time, and time was something he had plenty of at the moment, it seemed, trapped as he was in the hospital.

"Thai paintings and architecture often show the creature giving shelter, the coils a great cushion and the many heads like an umbrella."

Vin watched Josiah's innocent expression as he covered his artwork by rolling his sleeve back down and then looked up to Chris's slight frown. He had to admit he enjoyed keeping the smug Captain out of the loop for the moment. He obviously wanted to know what the connection was to Vin's own tattoo. He got the point clearly though, Josiah was showing him that he was ready to offer shelter, should it be required... and that

he knew more than Vin might think.

Josiah watched the younger man finally nod. He had not expected him to offer up any information regarding himself, but he thought maybe he had gotten his point through when he saw something thaw in the remarkable blue eyes. Chris had given him Vin's file and filled him in on the conversation he'd had with him earlier, but it had taken just one look at the wary but determined eyes glaring at him from the window to decide that Vin Tanner was a man who had fought through this world alone, and would continue on that way no matter the cost to himself if it meant getting where he wanted to be. Josiah had decided then and there that Tanner would be taking a different path, one that was not solitary, whatever resistance he might show.

For his part, Vin was back to trying to ignore the intense gaze beside him. The colossal man's words had caught him by surprise. There was nothing but sincerity and kindness in his voice and he was having a hard time dealing with it. He simply looked back down to the sheets of printed ink before him, not yet near ready to acknowledge their meaning. He did not know it then, but it was a turning point for him, the beginning of a realisation: he was not alone in this anymore.

"So you gonna sign those papers there or just stare at them all night?"

Vin took the pen Josiah offered him, looking up at Chris's frustrated face once more before signing his name in duplicate and handing the sheets back to Josiah without another word. Whatever doubts he might have had were pushed aside under the weight of Josiah's words, for the moment at least. Maybe they would regret their effort to persuade him somewhere down the track, but they had made their choice. He couldn't be responsible for that. Right now, he had some things to tell them, starting with the fact that Eddie was coming into the city and the town was about to be bombarded with bikers heading in for the funeral.

A half hour later, papers in hand and plans for the following day set, Josiah and Chris passed the same massive biker that Buck and JD had seen hanging around Vin's room earlier, heading straight for the elevator. The man actually made Josiah look small and Chris turned to nod at the agent he had posted at Vin's door, making sure he had his new agent covered. They entered the elevator alone and waited until the doors closed before speaking.

"Looks like JD was right, I think we did the right thing in heading down here when we did."

Chris nodded absently. "I think he was planning on pulling the pin on our deal."

"Yup," Josiah agreed. "Well, we've got him now, and if he's as good as you say he is, we're lucky to have him with us."

Chris nodded, he'd seen him in action himself, he had no doubts about his skill. "All we have to do is work on that attitude of his."

Josiah laughed at that and smiled at Chris's raised brow. He knew Chris long enough to have seen the similarity between the two men.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing…" At Chris's relentless stare he added. "I was just thinking how interesting it's going to be…"

The Captain's glare willed him to speak faster. "…having two men this stubborn on the same team."

Chris scowled at that. "You wouldn't be referring to me."

Josiah just smiled and a moment later Chris shook his head. "Stubborn ain't all he is." He waited another full minute before spitting out the question he'd been holding back. "What's the deal with the tattoo?"

Josiah smiled inwardly, knowing how much it had bugged Chris to have to ask. His frustration had been obvious since the conversation had come up. "I've seen fighters in Thailand who have tattoo's in that place under the arm. It's not for display, so much as a sign of attainment, the reaching of a high level of skill… It's also a sign of bravery, as that's a real painful part of the body to have needles stuck into if nothing else…"

Chris flinched, having already considered that point. "I didn't read anything about him being in Thailand in his files."

Josiah shrugged. "The tradition can also be found in other countries that study the art. Then again, I could be

completely wrong, it might have nothing to do with fighting."

"He might have been posted there with the marines," Chris thought aloud. He was silent as they walked, thinking this new information over and knowing there was much about Vin's background that he did not know. "And what's the connection to your snake-thing there?" He nodded to Josiah's arm, having peered at the design back in the hospital room.

"Naga," Josiah repeated the name of the snake king with patience.

"Yeah, I caught that..." there was an impatient quirk to his lips. "... and Vin's?"

Josiah went on as if having no idea about the impatience radiating from the man beside him. "Rajasi. It takes the form of a lion. The artwork looked incredible, I wouldn't mind having a closer look at it. I could only just make out the flames around the creatures body, it's what gave it away."

"And it's meaning?" he pressed, annoyed that he had to ask. Josiah could talk up a storm when he wanted to, so he knew the man was being vague on purpose.

"Well I can't speak for Vin's reasons for choosing it, but Rajasi is king of all mythical beasts, located high in the Himalayas and invisible to the eyes of mortals."

Chris gave a sceptical lift of his brow, not one for mythical creatures. He preferred the here and now to make believe.

"Just don't let me catch you two starting up a dungeons and dragons game in the office one day, or sticking pictures of dwarves around the place…" Still, he considered, it was another piece to the Tanner puzzle in place.

They stepped off the elevator to the first floor and Chris felt the folded paperwork in the inside pocket of his jacket. This was the beginning of something worthwhile, he felt that strongly. With the task that they had ahead of them in bringing down some of the leaders of the biggest biker gang in the country, stubbornness might just be the key.