Part 2    6:30pm

Chris Larabee stood outside the doors of the Emergency entrance. His breath crystallized in the winter night. Cell phones were not allowed in the ED. Despite the flashing of silenced sirens and the heavy din of people traffic, the leader of Team Seven was heard with unmistakable clarity over the phone.

Team 8's Ryan Kelly listened with the phone cradled between ear and shoulder and motioned directions to his team as they continued their on going search. The investigation that had started with the disappearance of team Seven's Ezra Standish had morphed into the hunt for the brawn and brains behind the operation. Jeff Finn was simply a stooge.

When the key witness for the Schwans case turned up missing two days ago, Denver got turned up side down. Though, Michael Schwans sat nestled securely behind prison walls, he still ran his organization with cruel efficiency. He had no intentions of remaining in prison. The detention hearing had revealed Standish's true identity and though his testimony had guaranteed that Michael Schwans would remain behind bars without bond, it placed the undercover operative in some danger.

The urgency and near tireless search that had motivated and driven people for the last three days had merely switched direction. They had Standish back, it was time to sic the dogs on the true game.

From with in the ATF offices, Ryan Kelly took unofficial orders from a man that had no jurisdiction or authority on this case.

Team Eight technically carried the ball. The case was theirs. Team Seven was too close, too involved and just too damn dangerous.

Ryan knew he would be a fool not to utilize and capitalize on their energy. Easier to run with a pack of angered Water Buffalo than it was to stand up against them.

Team Seven would, whether sanctioned or not, work this case to the end. One of their own had been taken from them, hidden from them and injured. Amongst the law officers, that was inexcusable and would not go unanswered.

The ATF, FBI and DEA found themselves united in finding those responsible. The other Federal agencies showed their support by simply backing off and accepting what information was handed to them…and in turn offering what information they could gleam from their respective sources. Attitudes and animosities disappeared for the time being. Rivalries stayed at home.

There was no glory seeking on this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris Larabee snapped his phone shut when he saw the Emergency Doctor in charge of Standish's case enter the waiting area. Chris strode through the pneumatic doors just as the remnants of his team stood as one. JD and Josiah. Nathan remained behind closed doors with Standish.

Buck and Vin scoured the city checking their contacts and snitches.

"Well?" Larabee's one word question carried and conveyed the anger and expectancy of the others. It held a tinge of fear hidden in layers of fight. The hard glint in his eyes and the manner of his movements, kept outsiders glued to his actions but away from his personal space. They were awed and frightened by the beast in their midst.

The Doctor paused. His white lab coat sat weighted on his shoulders. A stethoscope wrapped forgotten around his neck. Grey peppered onyx colored hair. Wire rim glasses sat nearly invisible on a clean shaven face.

"He's going to be fine," Dr. McNamara matched Larabee's gaze. They had been through this before. Dennis McNamara shared his Domain with Dr. Lauren Murray. "Dehydrated but we're rectifying that now…he's terribly groggy and disoriented," McNamara paused pursing his lips his mind running through pertinent information and superfluous fill, "and will be for a while yet…the sedative they gave him is relatively safe….they didn't want to kill him….just keep him quiet." The doctor wondered what possessed people to pull such foolish stunts…why go to such extremes?

"Don't make no difference," Buck suddenly slid up beside Chris, the crisp bite of winter air still clung to Wilmington's coat.

"I'm sending him home with you tonight," McNamara was not sure how this revelation would be accepted. In the times of HMO's, overnight hospital stays were delegated to the severely injured or sick.

A protest, from the young dark haired agent, had the Doctor raising his hand in a halting motion, "His blood tests have come back clean, he has no fever, no other injuries…" The ED physician focused his gaze on the blond man that spear headed the legendary and infamous Team Seven, "best thing for him right now is to be some place familiar and not surrounded by strangers. Let'im sleep this off at home."

Chris narrowed his eyes slightly. His gaze bore its way toward the Doctor, as if testing his mettle. The man had a point. Someone might still be after Standish, unlikely but not improbable.

Larabee consented with a simple nod.

"I'll have him out here in a just a bit."

McNamara disappeared behind the ED doors of No Admittance and escaped back to the comfortable chaos that was his second home.

Chris turned to Dunne, "JD, you're taking Ezra to the ranch and staying there."

Larabee switched gears and faced Buck, "What've you found?"

Before Buck could answer JD spoke up, "Chris, I don't think that would be too good an idea." The few years JD had spent on the team had rounded the edges of hero worship but sharpened his level of respect for his boss.

Chris swung his gaze to Dunne and leveled him with an unforgiving air. He quirked an eyebrow un-amused that his orders were second guessed at this stage.

"It's just," JD stumbled a little, not comfortable with facing Chris one on one especially when it came to refuting orders.

"Kid, now's not the time," Buck's schooling voice tried to squelch any ill tempers on the rise. Chris was on edge, he had a man down, and the ones responsible were still at large. Feelings and group dynamics could wait for another day.

"No, Buck, its important…" JD swallowed trying to control his flaring temper.

"JD, I don't have time for this…you're with Ezra." Larabee dismissed his presence giving Buck his attention.

JD made himself visible again, "Chris, it's not a good way to go." Dunne knotted his hands into tight fists behind his back. This had him reeling more than the raid this afternoon.

Larabee's expression clearly registered his loss of patience on the matter.

JD stuttered to make his point, "Ezra's been snagged from in front of his own apartment…. beat up….kidnapped, blindfolded and drugged," Dunne met Larabee's stare. His speech gathered speed as he gathered momentum. "He's gonna be scared to death when he finally wakes up all the way….I know he will…..I would be," Dunne quickly shifted his gaze to Buck then back to Chris, "He might not show it but it'll be there…he's gonna be scared shitless, nervous as all Hell….sticking'im with me isn't gonna make him feel safe."

There he said it. JD had no doubts about his ability to protect one of the others…but he lacked Nathan's and Buck's size, Josiah's strength, and Vin's expertise. His small stature and young age did not instill the natural sense of security and safety his older counterparts did…sometimes he thought this unfair but understood and recognized the bias.

"You sayin' you can't do the job?" Larabee knew exactly what motivated JD and ignored it because he had no time for it now.

"No…But…" JD stammered. Didn't Chris understand? Ezra would feel safer with Josiah watching over him or Nathan or Buck or Vin but not himself. JD was just too small and too young to give any sense of protection to his older team mate.

"Then do your job," Larabee turned his back on JD ending the one-sided conversation permanently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris and JD both gazed up when the ED doors parted. Nathan held the door ajar with one hand while he guided Standish through. The undercover agent shuffled unsteadily into the waiting area. He swam in the extra large navy blue sweat shirt. Josiah had run to the Target down the street and picked up some clothes. Ezra would not be leaving the hospital in the clothes he had worn for the last three days. The hospital staff had cut them off and Kelly had them delivered to the ATF labs for processing.

The grey Champion sweat pants gathered at the ankles and collected around a generic pair of high tops that velcroed not laced.

Chris and JD stood and approached them.

"Ezra?" Larabee lifted his undercover agent's chin from his chest and peered at heavily lidded eyes. Chris tossed a questioning gaze to Jackson. The paramedic merely shook his head. Standish wasn't home.

The foursome headed out to the trucks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Black Dodge Ram wove cleanly through congested traffic on the out bound highway. Chris took another quick glance at his agent. Standish leaned heavily against the passenger side door, curled away from the driver. It had taken a bit of doing to get him into the truck and sitting up. Nathan, once they got Standish settled into the Ram, headed back to the office to help Josiah. JD followed the Ram to the ranch driving Buck's truck.

Larabee peered in the rear view mirror at the headlights behind him. JD had made a good point, but of the group, JD would work extra diligently to stay with Standish. Not that the others would not, but in his haste to prove himself, to himself, Dunne would go that one extra inch…he would act just irrationally enough to fool and deter anyone seeking the undercover agent. JD would be able to protect Standish with his ever diligent un-predictableness.

Chris was pulled from his musing when Standish fought to raise his head from the passenger door window.

"Chris?" The heavily accented word lost in the slurring of a drugged mind, mumbled through the cab of the truck.

"Right here Ezra," Larabee's clipped response did not garner much response.

The undercover agent let his head bounce back against the window. He huddled tighter into himself.

The ride to the ranch seemed agonizingly slow. Denver traffic bottle necked and choked itself like a dying serpent too long in the cold.

Twice more Standish drug himself from his lethargy to blindly inquire and mutter his boss's name. Twice more Larabee responded with a curt, "Right here."

Each time Standish folded back to the window in the heavy fog of a drug induced sleep. He kept himself folded inward, trying vainly to protect himself from a disorienting outside world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee's house

Larabee had the passenger door open and seat belt unhooked when JD rolled Buck's pickup to a stop. The kid backed it in, Larabee knew he made the right choice.

Gravel crunched loudly in the sharp winter's night. Snow and ice still gripped part of the driveway while the paddocks lay hidden under a few inches of snow. The mountains received much more precipitation than the city below them.

"Chris?"

"Yer alright Ezra," Larabee lifted one of Standish's sneakered feet out of the truck onto the running board. The undercover agent would have slid backward onto the front seat but JD had the back door open and supporting him from over the bench.

"Ey Ez," JD's forced cheerfulness never reached Standish's ears. Instead, the undercover agent merely leaned heavily against the young computer genius.

Together, Chris and JD eased Standish out of the truck. Muddied reflexes worked without the benefit or necessity of the conscious mind. The gravel rolled under their slow shuffling gait.

The threesome paused at the front door while Chris searched one handed for the house key. The heavy oak door swung open on silent hinges. They dragged and pulled Standish's uncooperative feet up over the threshold onto the flag stone that decorated the inner door step.

Chris kicked the door closed and steered them toward the spare bedroom.

"Chris?" Standish's quiet plea had Larabee shaking his head. Anger boiled his veins. He would nail the bastards that did this.

"Ya alright Ezra," Larabee gripped Standish's chin in callused hands and directed the undercover agent's gaze toward him. "Listen to me Ezra," Chris tapped the flushed cheeks shocking the hooded eyes to open slightly more, "Yer alright, yer safe….you understand me?…..you are fine."

JD watched from the foot of the bed. He had removed the sneakers and dropped them on the floor. It was warm enough in the house to not need a blanket especially with the double layered sweat shirt and pants Josiah bought. Still JD would cover Ezra with it hoping to make him feel safer.

Dunne listened and watched as Ezra yet again searched blindly for Chris. JD was pretty sure Ezra wasn't really awake, but it hammered home the fact that Ezra sought safety from his boss. They'd come along way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

11:45pm

JD suddenly stopped typing. The soft click of computer keys paused fingers poised ready to strike the next string of commands that would take him deeper into his research. His cell phone sat beside the computer monitor almost beckoning him to reach for it. Call for back up.

Something felt off. The air changed. A sharp unsettled feeling started building causing his shoulders to tense and his back stiffen. His gut tightened.

He searched the room left and right his hands slowly melting from the keys toward his service revolver. The leather chair crinkled intrusively. He swiveled slowly in a circle freeing his legs from the immediate captivity of Larabee's desk. He slipped the phone into his pocket.

He could almost smell the danger.

JD slid quietly from the chair. Sneakered feet sunk slightly in the throw carpet. JD stood listening intently picking up the sudden sound of his own breathing. He held his breath. His pulse thudded like a hammer in his ears. White noise became louder as he strained to listen to something only his gut felt.

Dunne slid from the room. He kept his back to the wood paneled wall, ducking his head unconsciously as he skimmed by paintings and photos that hung on the wall.

The young agent slipped down the corridor. His sneakers sounded softly as he crept down the corridor. The bathroom door stood open and dark. Dunne paused at the door way and quickly snapped his head around the entrance way. The bathroom remained empty.

JD quickly crossed the threshold and headed for the spare bedroom. The door lay slightly ajar. A low growl echoed dangerously from behind the door.

Diablo felt it too.

Dunne squatted down and pushed the door open with his free hand. It swung easily, squeaking with age. They had avoided oiling the hinges in better times, the resounding squeak acted as a good alarm against pranksters.

JD cursed the sound now.

"Easy boy," Dunne squatted down presenting less of a threat to the aged Black Lab that lay on the bed. Through the shadows and against a blackened background, JD recognized the raised hackle's of Larabee's dog.

Diablo ignored the human in the door way. The scent posed no threat. Instead, the Black Lab snarled and curled his lip at the outside wall. It kept itself between the sleeping man in the bed and the unseen threat that lurked somewhere behind the wall.

Dunne slid into the room a white knuckled grip kept the gun at his side.

"Ezra?" JD's whispered question fell on deaf ears. Diablo continued his low throaty growl.

JD felt his own hackles rise. His heart thundered and adrenaline poured into his system.

The young agent slid along the bed. "Ezra," The questioning tone faded behind his urgent call. Dunne reached up with a surprisingly steady hand and grabbed the collar of the sweat shirt.

"Come one Ez....wake up," JD pulled on the collar only managing to stretch it. Standish's head rolled.

Diablo suddenly shot to his feet, standing on the mattress. His growl turned to a sharp snarl. His tail straightened out and kinked. Ears were pulled to the side and slightly back. The old grizzled dog suddenly lost his playful appearance and became a threat to something yet unseen.

"Damn it, Ezra," JD tucked his gun back in it's holster. It felt like a mistake. It rang wrong. He needed his gun in hand, needed to protect Standish.

Angered, scared and determined. Emotions mixed and churned. Fed by adrenaline and fear, the will to protect and survive had the young agent pulling his older friend roughly from the bed.

Standish hit the floor with a frightfully loud thump.

"Gawd Damn it Ezra....Wake up," JD slapped Standish's face.

It garnered a response. Eyes flickered for a moment, a foot moved and a hand twitched.

"That's it Ez come on time to wake up," JD peered worriedly up over the side of the bed. He saw nothing outside the blackened window. Diablo continued to growl.

The dog prodded the mattress stiff legged with his lips curled back. Hackles stood from neck to tail head. The black Lab appeared no more than a silhouette of malcontent.

JD quickly turned his head back down the empty hallway he just left. The wood floor gleamed dully in the soft light of the house. Dunne suddenly wished he had shut off all the lights.

A shadow fell across the room from the small window that graced the East wall. Ezra normally hated this room because of the intrusion of the morning sun in summer.

A shadow floated by darkening a stretch of area just under the window. JD hunkered down behind the bed pulling Standish's legs back out of sight.

Diablo snapped and lunged at the window slinging saliva from his mouth. The dog remained between the agents and the window.

JD, in a flash of panic and desperation, slapped Standish with a resounding smack. "Git up!" the fierce hissed words had Diablo dropping his neck and leveling his head at an unseen foe.

Standish moved, tried to roll onto his stomach.

It was motion enough for JD.

The agent grabbed his friend by the arm, "Move!" Dunne sprang to his feet grabbing Standish by the upper arm and hauled him from the bedroom. They tripped and fell. JD scrambled madly dragging his charge both behind and beside him.

The roar of a gun shattered the night. Glass imploded raining down on the wood floor bouncing and skittering like a macabre rainfall.

Diablo leaped at the shadow. The soft thud of bodies hitting the floor filled the air. Growls and the snapping of teeth on empty air, then clothes tore and someone screamed.

"Move! Move! Move!" JD hauled Ezra to uncooperative legs shoving and pushing him down the hallway. Bare feet and sneakers stuttered for purchase and speed. JD propelled them toward the master bedroom.

Standish struggled to keep his feet, fought to keep just ahead of the pressure that propelled him forward by the small of his back. Even in a confused daze, his instinct to survive kicked into full force. He matched the shifting shadow to his left and kept moving forward the best he could. It felt as if the ground heaved and tilted things left and right. His balance suffered but determination kept him forging ahead.

JD half dragged half carried Standish to the walk in closet. Sarah's things still hung off to the side. Dust settled heavily in the far corners. A testament to the harsh loss a lone survivor struggled to cope with, while still too haunted to put away the past and too hurt to keep reminders kept. The clothes and shoes sat pushed far from sight but not out of mind.

JD crammed Ezra into the walk in closet and shut the door. Ezra started to mumble.

"Shut up Ezra," The harsh whisper had Standish closing his eyes wondering when his teammates would find him and deliver him from his captives.

Dunne unburied the trapdoor to the crawl space. A once forgotten space under the house, only recently remembered when a cold snap had threatened to break pipes that had lost their insulation. Ezra and JD were the only ones who could really fit down below the house. Well Vin could probably squeeze through but no one had even considered asking him. Ezra had merely raised an eyebrow at the team's sudden loss of Common Sense. Under no such circumstances would he be caught dead under a house, in the frozen dirt, with work gloves, covering pipes.

The chore had fallen to JD. It had felt good to help Chris out for a change.

Now, three weeks later, Dunne thanked the Almighty for revealing this little hiding space.

JD had the hole uncovered. A pool of cold air sat just under the floor. It mingled and swirled with near physical blackness below. "Ezra git in," JD man handled the undercover agent toward the hole.

Standish lay on his side peering at the dark recess just at his hip. Where were the others? He blinked tiredly, a sense of helplessness weighted heavily on his shoulders forcing him to close his eyes. "Chris..." The whispered plea, hoping for a miracle but knowing better, did not fall on deaf ears. Wasn't Chris here just a few seconds ago…didn't Larabee or one of the others just scoop him away from danger? Good Lord what was happening? He closed his eyes as the world rotated wildly out of control.

"He ain't here Ez, git in," JD shoved Standish's legs through the hole. The bare feet hit the frozen ground below and knees buckled. Standish collapsed through the trap door.

Feeling the sudden coldness and with some realization that his misconstrued perception of his immediate world was about to take a horrible turn, Ezra struggled to back out.

JD shoved Standish back in by the shoulders, "Gawd Ez….please, git in there." Dunne kept trying to listen for noise down the corridor. He could still hear Diablo. The dog was barking frantically now.

"No....please," Standish pulled his feet from the coarse footing below him, desperately trying to escape the dark frigid depths of a new prison. His eyes wouldn't quite focus and it felt as if a blind fold still hindered his vision. His sense of direction suffered under a maelstrom of conflicting sensory reports. The world whirled by in a fog of shifting greys.

"Damn it Ezra," JD heard footsteps in the hall way. Wild eyed, he swung his gaze to the closed closet door. It was only a matter of time. He promised Chris he would watch out for Ezra, gave his word to himself never fail one of the team. He knew Chris should have picked someone else….someone better suited for this…Ezra wouldn't trust him. JD was too young, too inexperienced…there was no way someone like Ezra or the others would just willingly put their lives sorely in Dunne's young hands. JD closed his eyes briefly trying to garner control of the situation. Damn you Chris…..

Boots clumped cautiously down the wooden floor. They paused. JD pictured them to be at the bathroom. Whoever stalked them found the bathroom a threat too.

Ezra struggled to escape JD's grip, to flee the black freezing grave someone tried to shove him into. For a while, he had pleasantly dreamed of being under the team's protection: sequestered away at Larabee's small ranch, under a too warm blanket in a comfortable bed.

His nightmarish reality shattered his temporary escape and thrust him back into the hazy fog created by his captors. He didn't want to go into a hole, did not want to be locked in a cold dark prison. How would Chris and the others find him?....

He used his elbows to keep himself from becoming completely submerged in the blackness underground. He flattened his arms out against the edge and held his head above the floor. God No Please.....

JD held his breath and then the foot steps started again. Coming closer.

Where was Diablo?

Standish struggled again, letting loose with a small groan of defiance. JD squeezed his eyes shut, balled his fist and smashed Standish in jaw. "I'm sorry Ez," the soft whisper faded unheard.

Ezra's head swung around to his left shoulder. His right arm slackened its grip on the closet floor he slumped further into the hole. Coming closer to submerging under the cold blackness that already bit at his legs and back.

He struggled again, fighting drugs and a punishing blow, to coordinate his movement, trying desperately to harness enough strength to resist his fall. They'll never find him. "No...." He dug the fingertips of his left hand into the wood floor to slow his crumbling descent.

JD recoiled his arm and lashed out again. Bloody spittle sprayed unseen from Standish's mouth as molars dug into the soft lining of his cheeks and his tongue found itself trapped between the coarse sliding action of incisors. Coppery taste of blood pooled in his mouth.

His head snapped around again, eyes rolling. Muscles failed and joints folded. The undercover agent slid from sight into the black inky depths under the house.

Ezra lay sprawled on the ground trying to get muscles to respond. He watched the board slide over the small square source of grey light over head, watched as what little light and warmth was quickly shut off from him. In those last fleeting movements, he thought he recognized the face of one of his many unseen captors....JD?

The wood plank sank neatly back into its place sealing the crawl space nearly seamlessly. It cut off any light and warmth from the house above.

It hid the bewildered and panicked face of the prisoner below.

JD slid further back into the closest door ready to face his assailants.

          Part 3