Brotherhood
Chapter 15
...
Bearing the weight of his cousin across his shoulders gave him some comfort, but it didn't ease his gnawing fear. The feverish heat from Joe's body was the pressing reminder of the urgent need to get him to a hospital before the infection that gripped him became worse. He had seen it happen as an Army Ranger and knew the agony that followed if it wasn't treated quickly. As he carried him along the winding dirt track, Deeks continually looked over, his expression mirroring the distress they were all dealing with. Their debate over what to do next and where to take him had ended when Roy had poked his head in the door of the church and told him the Toussaints had a boat that could take them north to the outskirts of the tiny town of Butte La Rose. His information that one of the members of the Doucet family had a grocery there and that they were willing to help eased some of the tension they were all feeling.
Joe had slipped into delirium after asking about Di and Little Chris, calling incoherently for George and mumbling about Guidry and Oscar Doucet. Elan was concerned about his injuries and had done a cursory check of his broken ribs, and the many cuts and bruises all over his body, cursing when he saw the rope burns around his wrists. A deep gash ran down the side of his badly swollen knee, but it was his arm that was the greatest worry. It was a wicked looking wound and anger had instantly flared on the faces of his brothers when he'd unwrapped the sweat soaked bloody bandage. Callen had turned away briefly, his jaw clinching in that tell tale sign that he wanted to tear someone's head off. Deeks' face had softened into that vulnerable look that always tore at his own carefully crafted stoicism, cradling Joe's head against his chest and simply holding him. Roy had brought along medical supplies, but there wasn't much that could be done for the ragged wound with the supplies they had except to clean it as best he could and bandage it again. Joe had cried out and writhed in pain as he worked and when he'd looked up at Deeks he'd seen his eyes flooded with tears that barely masked the dark anger behind them.
The others had each offered to carry Joe part of the way, but he refused each time. They had all done so much, and the least he could do was carry the man he called Cuz, a man he'd thought of as a brother since he was twelve years old. Now he could feel the strain on his legs and lower back and let out a weary sigh as they finally walked out into a clearing in front of a small white house. A crazy quilt was laid out on the grass and a small black lady rushed toward him as he lowered Joe down on it.
"Is he dead?" A tall young man behind her asked, looking shocked.
"No," Deeks said quickly.
Elan noticed that the old man in overalls began to pull the two younger boys back, eyeing Callen and Deeks warily.
"This is Xavier Toussaint," Roy hurried to say. "He's the one has the boat."
"Them two are with The Brotherhood," the old man said.
Callen shot a look at Deeks, who shrugged, leaving the decision up to Callen, but it was the small black lady who spoke first.
"You're bleedin' Jimmy," she said. "Are you shot?"
"Old wound ma'am," he replied. "Tore out some stitches."
"I should take a look at it 'for it festers," she said kindly.
"Can't let you do that, Mrs. Toussaint," he relied. "It won't make sense when I go back to The Brotherhood."
"You're going back in?" Elan asked, agitated as he looked back and forth between the two men. "I thought your assignment was to find Joe and get him home. He's finally safe and now you're telling me I have to worry about you two going back in?"
"Sorry, Elan," Deeks said quietly.
"The op isn't over until we find out what they're planning," Callen said.
"Are those Hetty's orders?" Elan was suddenly angry and deeply worried. "Does she even know how truly sick these bastards are? Guidry had a man's tongue cut out, Deeks."
"She knows," Roy said quietly. "It's their job, man."
"Who are you guys?" Buford asked, making them all turn to look at the confused family.
"Probably best you don't know," Callen said tightly. "If those men come back, it might be a good idea not to be here."
"This is our home," Augustine said firmly. "God watches over this family."
"You folks know the Doucets up in town?" Roy asked.
"Went to school with their sons," Xavier said.
"Mind if I ask some of 'em ta come for a visit?" Roy asked. "Maybe stay a bit. Give God a helpin' hand?"
"And why would they do that?" The old man asked.
"Oscar Doucet was this man's partner," Roy said, pointing at Joe. "The Brotherhood killed him. His family offered to help in any way they could."
"You're his brothers..." Xavier said, smiling softly. "Joe told me about you. Elan, Marty and Callen."
"We're federal agents," Callen told them, and all of them seemed to let out a collective breath. "We're trying to bring down Guidry and The Brotherhood."
"I don't like this, G," Deeks said. "They're all in danger. They helped Joe and now they know who we are."
"We only did what was right," Iris said gently. "God brought your brother to us. Couldn't turn him out."
"God was looking out for your brother and I believe he be lookin' out for y'all, too," Augustine said.
"They're gonna need it," Elan said, unable to keep the anger from his voice.
"You two best get goin'," Roy suggested, nodding at Callan and Deeks. "Got any idea how you're gonna explain why you ain't in custody?"
"I'm sure we'll think of something on the way back," Callen replied as Deeks kneeled down next to Joe. "Got any idea how you're gonna deal with the dead bodies back there by the church?"
"Got Hetty on speed dial," he laughed, handing him the phone.
"You been listening, Hetty?" Callen asked, quickly putting the satphone on speaker.
"I have Mr. Callen," she said. "How's Joe doing?"
"Needs a hospital," Deeks snapped.
"We also need some cleanup here," Callen said. "Guidry's down three bastards."
"I'll send in a chopper with a tactical team to deal with the bodies, Mr. Callen," she said. "A show of federal force might just make The Brotherhood a little wary of coming back that way if we do a flyover or two."
"What about Joe?" Deeks asked.
"I think it wise to keep his rescue a secret until this is over," she replied. "I'll have the tactical squad add his name to the list of those killed. It will keep him safe. Nell is working on an alias for him when you check him into the hospital in Lafayette. Elan? Can you stay with him?"
"You don't have to ask," he replied sharply.
"No, of course not," she said soberly. "But, I do have to ask you not to tell George or Diane that he's alive."
"What? No, Hetty! You can't do that to them," Deeks shouted, instantly on his feet.
"Hetty..." Callen looked stunned and Elan thought Deeks was going to go right through the phone.
"Agent Slater is still questioning them regularly," Hetty replied as calmly as ever. "None of us knows if we can trust him and if Diane and George are told Joe is still alive, they won't be able to hide that from him. It could put him in danger all over again if word got out."
"Please don't do this Hetty," Deeks pleaded. "It'll tear them to pieces if they think he's dead and they don't deserve that. There has to be another way."
"Think about this rationally, Mr. Deeks..." She began, but Deeks didn't let her finish.
"Seriously? You expect me to go back undercover knowing two of the few people I care about most in this world have just had their hearts ripped out?" Deeks roared. "I won't do it, Hetty. I'll fly back tonight and tell them myself. Dammit Hetty...don't you think they've been through enough?"
"Tread very carefully, Mr. Deeks," Hetty warned. "Your future is at stake here."
"Deeks..." Callen gripped his shoulder, but he wrenched free, his nostrils flaring with anger and determination.
"You know this is wrong, G," he said stubbornly, ignoring Hetty's threat. "Back me up or get the hell outa my way."
"He's right Callen," Elan said. "We're family and you're a part of it. This isn't about doing your job...it's about family. You have to decide which one is more important to you."
Elan could see the tumult on his face, the strain of the assignment finally getting to both of them. Callen was a strong man, one who had lost himself in his work for most of his life. He believed deeply in what they were doing, and Hetty was a person he believed he could trust and who had always protected him. He had shown his allegiance to her his entire career, but Elan knew he loved Deeks, not that he would ever use that word. Now, that love warred with his loyalty and sense of duty and his inherently dispassionate character.
"Deeks is right, Hetty," Callen finally said with a deep sigh. "There has to be another way to do this."
"Then tell me what that is Mr. Callen," she demanded pointedly, her patience obviously waning. "We have traitors in our midst who will become very suspicious if they catch us in a lie. And that affects you and Mr. Deeks. But...I'm listening."
Hetty had told Elan once that Callen had always been a man who looked at things differently, his mind coming at problems from odd directions. The slight smirk that suddenly crossed his face made him think that this was going to be one of those odd suggestions that no one else had thought of.
"Agent Slater's an arrogant asshole. But he sees himself as being this heroic FBI agent, bringing down terrorists, and saving the world. He's full of himself and ambitious."
"I agree," Hetty replied.
"So, read him in," Callen suggested. "Make him part of our secret task force. Let him know why Joe's not a traitor. Explain what's going on and let him be the one to tell Diane and George that Joe is alive. He'll enjoy the power and he'll keep the secret because it will be a matter of pride."
"And if it backfires?" She asked.
"Have Eric hack him and do everything he can think of to make his miserable life more miserable," he replied.
"That boy has skills, too," Roy laughed.
"I'll invite Agent Slater and Stinson to the boat shed," Hetty finally said, with a hint of resignation. "Does this satisfy you, Mr. Deeks? Do you still work for me?"
"Yeah, no...I'm good," Deeks answered. "Sorry about the yelling."
"I don't take kindly to insubordination, Mr. Deeks," she admonished him. "And I have a very long memory. Now get your smart ass back to The Brotherhood and keep your head down. I doubt if Antoine Guidry will be quite as understanding as I am if you don't show up fairly soon."
Deeks roughed up his tangled mass of long hair and grinned softly at Callen before he pulled him in for a quick brotherly hug. Elan felt nothing but relief as he knelt down to lift Joe in his arms once again, worrying about the time it would take to get him to the hospital he so desperately needed. The two youngest boys hurried to prepare a bed of soft quilts for Joe in the long wooden boat, while Callen and Deeks said their goodbyes to the Toussaints. They shyly allowed the old preacher and his wife to pray for them, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, but they owed them so they endured it. Elan hugged each man in turn, knowing he probably wouldn't see them until this was over, but making them a promise that he would be there if they needed him. He watched them disappear into the trees as they started their journey back to the camp, and his heart raced wildly with fear for them. Deeks was walking right on the edge of physical collapse, along with the emotional turmoil he was dealing with, but Elan knew how strong he was and held onto the hope that he would be able to overcome both. Callen carried the weight of the mission on his shoulders as he always did and his concern for Deeks just made it harder to bear. Elan had no doubt they had each other's back, but he couldn't shake the memory of Homer Moreau's body lying in the trunk of that car with his tongue cut out. He thought when they found Joe that the nightmare would end, but the characters haunting his dreams had only shifted to the two men he could no longer see and the crazy bastards waiting for them.
"Gotta move, Mr. Hand," Roy remarked, drawing him back to duty.
"Call me Elan, old man," he snapped. "Only Hetty calls me that."
"You ain't got no respect for your elders," Roy said as he followed him to the boat.
"Wrong again," Elan growled, irritated with the man and the whole damn situation.
"Can't tell ya not ta worry, but those two together got their own kinda strength," Roy said quietly as they climb into the boat. "And this here cousin of yours survived out in this swamp alone for almost five days. That ain't easy. I know. He'll make it, Elan. Take my word."
He was grateful for the man's kind words and desperately wanted to believe him. He wanted to feel that same confidence that this makeshift family of his would come out whole on the other side of this snake pit. He felt powerless and he hated it. There was nothing he could do for Callen or for Marty, so he told himself to trust them to take care of one another, and turned his attention back to Joe.
...
"Mr. Hannah? Where are you?" Hetty asked suddenly in his ear.
"Jackson Square. Trying to walk off the barbecue ribs from BB King's Blues Club," he said with a laugh. "What's up?"
"Get yourself to Lafayette," Hetty ordered. "And I suggest for now, that you leave Safa Jordan out of the loop on this."
"What loop are we talking about, Hetty?"
"They found him Sam," she said softly and he heard the relief in her voice. "Joe will be admitted to Lafayette General under the name Joseph Hand. Elan will be with him."
Sam experienced a rush of emotion as a burdensome weight lifted from his shoulders. His thoughts flew to Deeks and Callen, wanting to know the details, but keeping that need under control for the moment.
"How's he doing, Hetty?"
"I'm afraid he's in bad shape, Sam. One of Guidry's dogs apparently got to him and he's fighting a very serious infection from a bite on his arm. None of us know how long ago that happened, but according to Elan, it's quite horrific," she informed him. "But he's alive, although unable to communicate much at this stage. I need you to find out what he knows when they get his fever down enough for him to be coherent."
"Callen and Deeks okay?" He held his breath until she answered that they were fine. "Good...Now why don't you want Safa to go with me to Lafayette? She was Joe's handler. She's worried about him."
"According to Elan, Joe had asked her to pull Oscar Doucet out," she replied carefully. "He places some of the blame for his death on her, so I think it best he not see her."
"Understood," he replied. "Have you told Diane and his father yet?"
"No. The plan is to have him reported dead at the scene along with three members of The Brotherhood," she stated. "That will get the FBI and The Brotherhood both off his back."
"But you're gonna tell his family he's okay, right?"
"Mr. Deeks was quite insistent I do so, Mr. Hanna," she replied.
"He threatened to quit didn't he?" Sam smiled, knowing he had read Deeks' state of mind correctly even before he'd left for this assignment.
"He actually came quite close to being terminated," she said coolly.
"You mean fired, right? Not taken out literally?" Sam asked, his smile fading as he asked.
"Your opinion of me has slipped over the years, Mr. Hanna," she said with a small laugh. "Have you ever known me to take out one of my own operatives?"
"No, but I assume you'd keep that a secret if you had," Sam replied, his smile returning.
"You're quite right. I would," she acknowledged. "Anything else, Mr. Hanna?"
"I assume Callen and Deeks went back under," he replied. "But, one question. Do you want me to let Safa believe Joe Atwood is dead?"
"See what you can get out of Joe first," he said.
"Makes sense, but I think she's one of the good guys, Hetty."
"Let's hope you're right, Sam."
He began jogging back toward his hotel, his mind trying to fill in the blanks of what had happened. He was usually a patient man, but he now felt anxious to get as many details as he could, wondering if Safa was as trustworthy as he'd come to believe. She had appeared genuinely worried about Joe Atwood, and it seemed cruel to keep her in the dark about his rescue, but then again she was a spy and a good one. If she had been the one who'd betrayed Joe and his partner, he would be in danger if she found out where he was. Sam knew he wouldn't be safe either. She already knew they had agents inside The Brotherhood, and he silently cursed himself for revealing that information. He was torn between wanting to keep her in his sites for fear she would turn on his team and wanting to believe that the woman who had charged across that alley last night was someone he could count on to keep their secrets and have his back.
He had switched hotels after being attacked, as well as rental cars, but he still felt exposed, watching for tails and checking out anyone that looked suspicious as he made his way into the hotel garage. Slipping in behind the wheel of his new nondescript sedan, he got on comms to Roy to get instructions on the fastest way to get to Lafayette.
"You missed some action this mornin', buddy," Roy's soft drawl reminding him he wasn't totally alone.
"Everybody okay?" He asked as he pulled out of the garage and headed through town.
"So far," he replied. "I'm a little worried about your two brothers. They'll have a helluva lot of explaining to do when they get back to camp."
"They can handle it," Sam replied, even though he felt a twinge of doubt as he said it. "Sounds like things got heated."
"You talked to Hetty," Roy stated, sounding unusually reserved. "Deeks challenged her orders. Shocked the hell outa me. Ain't seen many that weren't cut off at the knees for doin' that."
"I think she secretly has a soft spot for him...Callen too," he replied with a gentle smile.
"Stood up for his family. I admire that."
"You in Lafayette?" Sam asked as he hit the freeway and stomped on the gas.
"Home...monitoring the Hale brothers."
"You sound worried."
"Deeks followed his heart instead of usin' his head," Roy growled. "He should have followed those two militiamen we spooked back to camp...let us deal with finding Joe Atwood. Instead, he faked an injury so he could look for his brother. It was a dumb move."
"Joe always did call him a dumbass," Sam said. "But I'm not surprised. Those two went through hell together. Bonded a long time ago. You remember what that's like. Brothers in arms."
"Yeah, I remember," he replied quietly. "Don't mean it can't get one of 'im killed."
They both became silent after that until Sam asked for details about the rescue, which Roy reported as only an ex Seal can do. He had nothing but good things to say about Elan, and wondered why Hetty hadn't recruited him. They talked easily, filling the two hour drive with occasional reminiscences of their time in service and sharing stories about family. By the time he arrived in the hospital parking lot, Sam knew more than he wanted to about the genealogical history of Roy's family line all the way back to France, including their forays in the Crusades. The man could talk.
"One more thing," Roy said as Sam headed into the hospital. "Might be a few Doucets hangin' around when ya get in there. Make sure they know you're a friend...otherwise things could get a little dicey. They ain't gonna let anything else happen to Joe Atwood without a fight."
Sam signed off and checked at the reception desk for the room number for a man named Joseph Hand. When he got on the elevator, he was joined by two well-built men in jeans and t-shirts, both wearing ball caps with Ragin' Cajuns insignias. The one with the heavy dark beard was texting on his cell phone, while the other leaned nonchalantly against the sidewall of the elevator and stared at him, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. When the door opened three very serious men were waiting for him.
"I'm really hoping you're the Doucets," Sam said, standing to his full height and puffing out his chest. "I'm still digesting those barbecue ribs I had for lunch, so I'm not too interesting in kickin' anyone's ass right now, but I will if I have to."
"You Sam?" A big man with a black mustache asked.
"Who's askin'?"
"Gus Doucet."
"Sam Hanna. How many more of you are there?"
"Here? Or scattered all over da parish?" Gus asked as he shook Sam's hand.
"Here in the hospital," Sam asked with a big smile as they parted to let him off the elevator.
"Us five...plus more in da waitin' room and a few you won't never see," he answered. "We got lots of uncles and cousins. Ain't nobody gonna hurt that boy no more."
"How's he doing?"
"Better once dey give 'im somethin' for da pain," Gus said solemnly. "Ragin' wid fever when we first pick 'im up in Butte la Rose. Opened his eyes and saw me...started cryin' and sayin' how sorry he was...damn near got da bunch of us cryin' all over again. Oscar was da baby of da family. Thought da world of Joe. Brought 'im over for mama's étouffée when dey first hooked up. Real down ta earth kinda guy. We all like 'im. It was tough seein' 'im so beat down and blamin' hisself for what happened."
"We all know who's to blame," Sam said quietly as he rounded a corner to see Elan sitting in a blue plastic chair with his head down, holding a paper cup of coffee between his knees.
"Found a friend of yours," Gus called out.
Elan was one of the toughest and strongest men Sam knew, but not today. He looked sad and exhausted and definitely frustrated as he stood to greet him. His black chinos were caked with dried mud from the knees down and he wore a khaki tank top dotted with bloodstains, and his big hand trembled as he reached out to shake his hand.
"How bad?" Sam asked softly.
"He's in surgery," he replied with little energy. "ER doc said he has severe sepsis. They were afraid he might go into septic shock, so they got him on oxygen and shot him full of antibiotics and painkillers and sent him straight up to surgery. He could die, Sam. After all this...he could still die."
"Hey...this is Joe we're talking about," Sam said gently, gripping his shoulder. "He's tough."
"Yeah...I know."
Elan sank back down in the hard plastic chair and Sam realized the Doucet men had loosely surrounded them, allowing none of the people passing even close. He counted eleven men of different ages, some with beards, a few with cowboy hats and most with ball caps. A couple of the older men were talking softly to one another, but their eyes still scanned whoever walked by. Sam decided he wouldn't want to tangle with any one of them, knowing it wouldn't be a single man he would end up fighting, but all of them.
"Some family huh?" Elan murmured. "Shocked the hell outa me when we pulled up to the levee and saw seven men waiting. All armed too. Glad Roy gave me a heads up what to expect or I might have started shooting."
"Hope Roy let Callen and Deeks know he has a protective detail," Sam said.
"They know."
"You got a place to stay?" Sam asked. "Joe might be here awhile. I can get you a hotel room for as long as you need."
"Ain't no need for that," Gus cut in. "Sister's got a condo close by. Kinda a modern warehouse lookin' place, but she offered Elan one of her extra rooms. Cain't argue wid her, so don't even try."
"Really, Gus. I can sleep here in the waiting room," Elan said.
"You ain't met Zoe yet," Gus smiled for the first time. "That ain't happenin'. No one in our family messes wid her. 'Specially after what happened ta Oscar. She's the only girl. Just do what she tells ya and you'll be fine."
"Sounds like Kensi," Sam said, finally getting a brief smile out of Elan.
"Mr. Hand?" An officious voice called out.
Elan stood quickly and the Doucets moved aside to allow the surgeon to approach.
"How is he?" His voice was breathless and Sam took a step closer, surprised at how tentative he sounded.
"The wound in his arm was badly infected and it went into his bloodstream. He was quite close to going into septic shock when he was admitted, and the infection is extremely severe. Once I got the wound cleaned I was able to assess the damage..." he said and then hesitated before continuing. "He has a lot of muscle and tendon damage, and I'm sorry, but he might not regain full use of that arm."
Elan took a step back and said something in Arapaho, making the doctor look over at him as if he could translate.
"What else?" Sam asked, knowing he wasn't finished.
"His fever's still running too high and we're working to get his blood pressure up. Right now he needs help breathing so we have him on a ventilator. I have to be honest, Mr. Hand. He's critical."
"Is he dying?" Elan asked.
"We're monitoring his vital organs, Mr. Hand, and doing everything we can to help him pull out of this," the doctor said gently. "I can see he went through hell, so he must be a fighter. Remember that. Once he's out of recovery, we'll get him set up in ICU, but you won't be able to see him until later tonight. I'll have a nurse come find you."
Elan looked stunned and Sam found it hard to breathe, wishing he could talk to Callen, but knew he couldn't risk telling him or Deeks how bad Joe's condition was. Deeks especially would have a hard time staying undercover if he found out. The Doucets closed in around them when the surgeon left, but Elan suddenly let his anger out and pushed through them, walking down the hall muttering in Arapaho, before finally stopping at a window to stare blankly outside.
"We know that feelin'," Gus said softly, and the men around him nodded silently. "He wants ta beat on somebody right now. Know of anything might help 'im blow off some of dat anger?"
"He's from Wyoming," Sam explained. "Works with his uncle breeding and raising horses. Not sure there's anything in a city that will help much, unless you know of a gym with a punching bag."
"That how you let off steam?" Gus asked.
"Yeah...work the heavy bag when things get hard," he replied as he started toward Elan.
The Doucets began to talk to each other in Cajun and the sound of their quiet voices was soothing. Families were a comfort in times like these, but Elan was alone with no one but him and strangers to talk to. He was a reticent man, but he was hurting right now and Sam wasn't sure exactly what to say that might help him. Stopping beside him, he pulled his phone and handed it to Elan.
"Roy told me you lost your cell crossing a bayou," Sam said. "Don't think George has been told about Joe yet, so you can't call him, but you need to talk to someone who's family."
"Uncle Jim," Elan breathed out, giving him a grateful smile as he took the phone.
Sam walked back toward the Doucet family, giving Elan his privacy. Gus approached him with one of the older men, who doffed his cowboy hat and looked down the hall at Elan.
"This is my uncle, Louie Doucet," Gus said. "Has an idea."
"Got a friend runs some horses over at Evangeline Downs," the old man squinted up at him through thick glasses as he spoke. "Thought Elan might like to work out a couple of 'em. No races scheduled, so he can take all the time he needs."
"Joe told us stories about Elan on a horse," Gus said. "Think it might do us all a world a good ta see 'im ride."
"Did I hear something about horses?" Elan asked as he walked up behind him.
"Like ta ride a thoroughbred, son?" Louie Doucet asked.
"Is he serious?"
"Uncle Louie cain't tell a joke worth shit," Gus laughed. "He's always serious."
"Pay no attention to that one, son," Louie Doucet countered. "He come out butt first, so he talks outa his ass."
Louie slapped Elan on the back and silently guided him through the crowd of family members, who dutifully fell in behind him except for three men who stayed behind. Sam was starting to like this family. They operated like a fine tuned military unit, leaving nothing to chance as they watched over Joe Atwood as if he were one of their own. Elan seemed to know he could trust them and it must have eased his mind, laughing suddenly with the family at something Louie Doucet said. The laughter was brief for all of them though and the short drive north was a quiet affair, the line of pickup trucks eventually pulling through a chain link fence behind the horse barns.
Louie seemed to know just about everyone he passed, but it was the small, bald man who gave him a shout out in Cajun who brought them all to a halt. He had a wide, thin smile and the kind of swagger that Sam recognized as the real deal. He and Louie talked briefly, and he occasionally glanced at Elan, who stood respectively silent.
"My name's Calvin Borel. Louie here says ya got a need ta ride."
"It's an honor to meet you, sir. Saw you win the Kentucky Derby in '09. I'm Elan Hand."
"What kinda horses you breed?" Borel asked.
"My uncle Jim Littleshield and I breed quarter horses, paints and Appaloosas," Elan said quietly.
"I help out a trainer here once in awhile," Borel said. "Got one big ol' stallion that ain't got no sense. Needs tough hands, a sensitive feel and someone as stubborn as he is. That sound like you?"
"Yes sir."
"He always this polite, Louie?"
"Only when he likes you," Sam interjected.
"Well dis here horse he gonna be ridin' ain't got a polite bone in his big ol' body," Borel laughed. "You up for that?"
"I'm lookin' forward to it," Elan said, dark sadness radiating off him.
The small man walked them down between barns in the late afternoon heat, the physical contrast between the two men strangely compelling. Both knew horses and both loved them, the retired jockey somehow understanding the big Arapaho's deep need. A couple of grooms were walking a big black stallion round and around in a circle as if trying to wear him out. The animal tried to bite one and kicked at the other and Sam decided it was best to stay as far away as he could from the mean looking animal. Elan simply watched.
Finally taking a couple of steps toward the animal, the stallion turned to face him. He began speaking Arapaho to the horse, who pricked its ears at the unusual sound. Snorting, the big stallion began pawing the ground, its eyes constantly on Elan as he came closer, until he finally took the halter rope from one of the grooms. Continuing to talk softly to the animal, he ran his hand over its glistening shoulder and up its neck, the animal quivering at his touch.
The horse was bareback, and Elan just shook his head when the groom offered to saddle him. The horse suddenly nipped at Elan's shoulder, and he laughed, then sounded as if he were scolding the animal, but showed no fear. He said a couple of sharp words in Arapaho, getting its attention as he calmly grabbed a handful of mane and leaped onto its back. The horse actually looked surprised and began backing up, but Elan took the reins and turned him toward the track, his heels nudging his ribs to get him moving. One of the grooms ran ahead to open the gate. Elan bent low over the horse's neck and continued to talk to the stallion, the animal's eyes now wide as it danced sideways toward the dark dirt of the track. When they passed the rail, Elan yelled and kicked the horse hard, his hands entwined in the mane as the horse jumped forward, kicking out its back legs before taking off at a full out gallop. Calvin Borel whooped as the horse exploded down the track, the dark dirt flying out behind and Elan lying low along its neck, moving as one with the horse.
This was no slow workout, it was a breakneck race. Others gathered along the rail as horse and rider hit the backstretch, some with stopwatches poised as the horse raced around the far turn. Someone with binoculars swore the jockey was riding bareback, but others disputed it until Borel told them he was. When the stallion pounded onto the homestretch, the two grooms were beating the railing, urging him on. Elan swept past them, his long hair flaring out behind him as he urged the stallion to keep going. The second lap was slower, but the pace was steady and by the time Elan pulled the stallion up in front of them they were both sweating, but inordinately calm. Elan slid from the horses back and leaned against the animal's neck, whispering in Arapaho as tears streaked his face. Before Sam could get to him, he dropped to the ground and sat cross-legged in the dirt as the grooms led the weary horse away.
"Elan? You okay, man?" Sam asked as the Doucets formed a protective line behind them and warned everyone away.
When he lifted his head, Sam's breath caught in his throat. He had seen that look on Elan's face before after a man had attacked his family. It was coldly calm and chilling in its intensity.
"I can't lose any of them, Sam," he said, his voice low and rough, his eyes black and his jaw tight. "If those bastards hurt Deeks or Callen, I'll go in on my own and get them out. If Joe dies, I'll kill every member of The Brotherhood I can get to, starting with Guidry. They fucked with my brothers, Sam. I won't let that pass."
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