The Name is Bond, Ezra Bond

By Nadine

Crossover with 007 Universe

Big thanks to Mog for creating the ATF universe. Yeah it’s another crossover, my beta challenged me into doing stories with all the famous James’s. There’s another one in the works.

Size: Approx 160K

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White camouflaged commandos worked their way down the mountainside toward a picturesque chalet nestled in the snow-covered mountains of the Swiss Alps. Signaling his men to stop, the leader of the commandos raised his binoculars to his eyes and focused on the picture window below. Lowering the binoculars he signaled his men to get ready.


Inside the lodge, Earnst Stavro Blowfeld, head of Spectre (a worldwide crime organization) was meeting with a representative of a supremacist group called The Chosen. With drink in hand, Blowfeld stood in front of the large window and watched skiers fly down the mountainside below. Turning from the window to the other man in the room, he spoke to him in a condescending tone.

"Really Mr. Hamit, don’t try to convert me to your cause or place me within that pitiful group of fools. I have no patience with fanatics and their causes. Be it these so-called Hitlerites or the latest religious cult, they are all the same to me. Fools, unwilling to think for themselves, needing to be fed the pabulum of their own fears, to be told it’s all right for them to hate and destroy what they refuse to take the time to understand. They are willing to give up everything for their cause; their money, their children, and their freedom just to be told that they, and only they, are in the right. Dig into any of these fringe groups, you’ll find the individuals running them are only in it for the money and power that it brings them. I understand you better than you know. I have used that foil myself in the past."

Putting down his drink, Blowfeld sat down in his chair and a white longhaired cat jumped into his lap. He gazed at the man in front of him; Dwight Hamit, a white male, forty-five years old, well built and in good physical condition, from the American southwest.

For the past hour Hamit had been trying to convert Blowfeld to his beliefs; to convince Spectre to give, not sell, the armaments that he had came to procure for his New World order. A salesman of the highest caliber, he had sold hundreds of people on his employer’s ideals, many of whom had willingly given of their fortunes or technical knowledge to further the cause. Hamit had come to the Swiss Alps convinced he could get what he wanted from Blowfeld, without paying for it. He now realized that wasn’t going to happen. Blowfeld wasn’t falling for the usual sales pitch. He tried again.

"Mr. Blowfeld there must be someway we can do business, our group isn’t wealthy…"

Blowfeld laughed. "Really Mr. Hamit, The Chosen has an undeclared income of over forty million dollars a year, and that’s after running expenses. I had your little group thoroughly checked out when you first contacted Spectre." Smiling at the startled man he finished his drink before going on. "We may be able to come to a mutually beneficial agreement. The Chosen wants the world to sit up and take notice of them and I have the means to do that."

"What do you want in return?" questioned Hamit, getting an uneasy feeling the price would not be to his liking.

Blowfeld smiled "I have a new untested weapon…"

The sounds of gunshots filled the air, Blowfeld’s assistant rushed into the room.

"Sir we’re under attack."

"How discourteous of them to interrupt our meeting. Mr. Hamit if you would care to join me." Blowfeld picked up his cat and went to an internal wall where he opened a hidden door. "We’ll continue this discussion elsewhere."

Hamit followed Blowfeld through the opening leaving everything behind, when he asked Blowfeld about that, he just smiled.

"There will be nothing left Mr. Hamit." Blowfeld fed a code into a control panel, "I have set the self-destruct. By the time these malevolent forces reach this room there will be nothing left of it."

The fight continued as Blowfeld and Hamit made their escape in a fast traveling Snow-cat. Hamit turned around to look out the back of the cab at the sound of an explosion. All he could see was black smoke rising into the sky over the snow-bank.

Inside the lodge the fighting had came to an end. The invading forces had overcome Spectre’s men, disarming them and Blowfeld’s self-destruct. Removing the explosives, they had set them off outside. The leader of the now controlling team spoke into a com-link.

"We have secured the lodge, Blowfeld got away. Do you wish us to pursue?"

"Negative Team Leader, gather everything and bring it back to headquarters. Tear the place apart if you have to. I want every piece of information you can find."

In London M signed off with a sigh. "So far all we been able to do is slow Spectre down." Addressing her aid, Moneypenny, she told her, "Find Bond, I want him here and ready to go as soon as we receive that information."


James Bond finished reading the report M had given him and laid it on M’s desk. Pushing his chair back he asked his superior, "How close are they to making this weapon operational?"

M shook her head, "We don’t know for sure. So far we have been one step behind them. Our best guess is that Spectre hasn’t started human testing, but we can’t take a chance they might be closer to testing it outside of a laboratory then we think."

"Do we know where they are now?" asked Bond

"The European governments have joined together to stop Spectre from succeeding in this; making this part of the world too unpleasant for them to work in. For whatever reason Blowfeld doesn’t seem interested in trying to set up shop in Asia. We now believe…" M walked over to a large computer screen and pressed keys on a control panel, changing the picture from a map of Europe to one of North America. "It’s now believed that Blowfeld has joined forces with a supremacist group calling itself the Chosen. They are based somewhere in the southwestern part of United States of America; a state called Colorado. Pack warmly Bond, I believe it’s snowing there."


In the Federal building in Denver, Colorado Chris Larabee, leader of the ATF’s most successful team, sat in his office staring at a memorandum. The memo was on domestic terrorism. They wanted to share information by exchanging officers with other governments. Why would his team be asked to participate in something like this? Team Seven had a reputation for not playing well with others. The brass wouldn’t want to run the risk of embarrassment with a foreign government, by involving his team. There had to be more to it. Walking out of his office into the bullpen, he checked on who was in. Buck Wilmington and Vin Tanner were still out running down a lead. Nathan Jackson was in the forensic lab getting the latest info on a case. That left Josiah Sanchez, Ezra Standish and JD Dunne. Chris smiled, just the threesome to get to the bottom of this.

"Gentlemen I have a little mystery I want you to solve."

Looking up from his computer screen Ezra asked his boss. "Pray tell sir, how may we be of service to you?"

Chris handed him the memorandum. "Check this out, especially the two names there, James Bond and Felix Leiter. I want to know everything about them." Turning to JD he added, "I don’t want to know the details of how you do it, just don’t get caught. Josiah, try to keep them out of trouble." Sighing at the big man’s laughter he added, "If you can."


James Bond and Felix Leiter were stopped in the lobby of the federal building and were thoroughly checked out. The young receptionist enjoyed listening to the handsome British agent’s accent as he flirted with her. Smiling she handed him his pass and watched him walk away, enjoying that too.

Only after they had proven to be who and what they said they were, were they allowed to proceed. Bond was only allowed to keep his weapon after Felix agreed to be responsible for his behavior.

"You’d think I was a mental case and you were my keeper," remarked Bond as they waited for the elevator. He made a point of checking out the building’s exits as they waited.

"Think about why we’re here and what happened in Oklahoma. Better inconvenienced than sorry," Felix told him.

"Of course," Bond responded as they got on an empty elevator. "Felix, are you sure about this ATF team?"


"Then why keep them in the dark? Why not let them know everything about this case up front? M cleared the exchange of information with your government before I left London."

"Cleared it with the CIA, not the Fed’s or the ATF; groups who are not known for sharing information. While I haven’t met this team personally, I have worked with other domestic police forces and they didn’t impress me with their willingness to share information," Felix told him.

"Or yours either," muttered Bond under his breath.

"What was that James?" asked Felix.

"Why are we meeting with them at all then?" Bond knew why but wanted to hear Felix admit it, if only to himself. If they were to be successful in stopping Blowfeld, they had to work together in this.

"Because they have dealt with survivalist groups before, because they have the highest arrest and conviction rate in the country. Mavericks every last one of them, if they live up to their reputation, they won’t hesitate to work outside of the rulebook if they need to. Technically James, the CIA isn’t suppose to work inside the United States borders and working with the ATF will be easier then with the Fed’s. Anyway if they can spot a hole in our cover story all the better, fix the problems before we meet up with the survivalists. You’ve studied the report on these guys. What do you think of them?"

Before Bond could reply the elevator doors opened into an empty corridor. Walking toward the bullpen they found it to be empty also. Where were the men they had an appointment with?

"Where the hell are they? Our appointment was for 10 o’clock sharp," asked an annoyed Felix as he checked the empty office of Chris Larabee.

Just then a young man with long dark hair stepped out of the elevator. In his hands were bags from a bakery and a tray of Starbuck’s coffee. Felix mistook him for a delivery boy and started to question him when Bond stepped in and took the tray of coffee before it was dropped.

"Thanks," said the young man before either spy could question him. "You must be the 10 o’clock appointment, we’re meeting upstairs. Our conference room just got painted and you can’t breathe in there, so we moved the meeting upstairs to another room. They must’ve forgotten to tell you in the lobby." The young man moved to a desk to pick up a folder and made his way back on the elevator. "Come on, it’s this way."

Bond and Felix exchanged glances and followed. Back on the elevator Felix tried to make small talk.

"You’ve got quite a load there son. Team Seven often send you out on errands?"

This earned him a dirty look from the young man.

"No sir, I lost the toss with my co-workers and I went out for the coffee. Our coffee maker died this morning and no one would lend us one on short notice. As for the baked goods I was hungry and I was taught better manners than not to bring some back for everybody."

With that the elevator door opened and the young man hurried down the hall leaving the two spies in his wake.

"Well done Felix, I do believe that was Agent Dunne, Team Seven’s electronics expert you have just alienated."

"Damn, he looks even younger in person than in his file picture." Felix shot back as the pair walked down the hall to the door Dunne disappeared into. The room held the missing men from Team 7, none of whom paid any attention to the two spies. Agent Dunne had already taken his seat next to a tall man with a bushy mustache only to jump up again when Bond came in with the tray of coffee, Dunne took the tray from him.

"Thanks", Agent Dunne told him as he passed out the coffee to his fellow agents. "Didn’t know how you fellows took yours, so I got it black, we got cream and sugar if you want."

Bond took one of the two empty seats at the end of the table and draped his coat over the back of the chair. Felix tried to talk to the blond man in black, only to be told to take a seat. Annoyed, he did so next to Bond. Once seated, Felix tried to gain the attention of the men in the room by speaking over the men talking.

"Gentlemen, I’m Felix Leiter and this is James Bond, we had an appointment this morning."

The men in the room ignored him and if anything they got louder. The man in black just glared at them without saying a word. M could take lessons from him in that regard thought Bond, the man could freeze the devil himself with that icy glare. Felix was getting nowhere with his approach. Finally the man in black held up his hand and the room was instantly quiet. Without saying a word he had complete control of the room and the men in it. He spoke,

"Mr. Leiter, why has the head of British Intelligent sent its top agent, 007 to Denver Colorado? And why has our government assigned the CIA to back him up? And most importantly, Mr. Leiter, what is my team’s involvement in this?"

Inwardly Bond was laughing at his friend, as Felix tried to explain without giving away any information about the case. Bond had known the cover story Felix’s people had come up with wouldn’t work with these men when he had heard it; the exchange of ideas between police forces of different countries on domestic terrorism by exchanging officers of different departments. It all sounded very nice on paper but anyone any good at ferreting out the truth (and these men were the best) would find out he wasn’t attached to Scotland Yard or Felix to the CIA’s public relations. Bond sat back to study the men around him. He had been given reports on them from Felix and M; he had gone over them on the flight over. Now he wanted to fit that information with the men sitting at the table.

Chris Larabee, the tall blond man dressed in black, was an ex Navy Seal who had more than earned the respect given to him. A capable man in any situation, a man who could be trusted to get the job done. A born leader, he took care of his men and they him. It had bothered Bond at first that not only were they the same age but shared similar tragedies in their pasts.

Buck Wilmington, the man with the dark bushy mustache, also an ex-Navy Seal, served with Larabee in the Navy. An intelligent man who hid that intelligence behind a good-old-boy veneer. He was Larabee’s oldest friend. He watched out for the younger members of the team like a big brother, especially Dunne.

Vin Tanner, long sandy colored hair, on the lean side. An ex Army Ranger (covert-ops) joined the Army as soon as they could legally take him. A weapons expert and sniper, he had spent the time between the Army and the ATF as a bounty hunter. He’d packed a lot of living into his twenty-eight years….wonder if he lives up to his reputation as a prankster?

Josiah Sanchez, big was the first word that came to mind, powerfully built and strong even now in his early fifties. Ex-Army, the team’s profiler had degrees and doctorates in many fields. Josiah had worked within the government’s intelligence communities till he burned out. James couldn’t find out which one. He still had his top, top-secret clearance and Felix was told certain years of his life were classified and to leave it at that. That hadn’t made Felix happy. Wonder if any of his teammates know that about him?

Nathan Jackson, the dark-skinned medic and forensic liaison was ex-Army as well. Trained EMT medic, kept up with the latest medical research, recruited from the police force. Intelligent and compassionate, a no-nonsense man, takes care of his teammates, takes it personally when they get hurt. Probably the most stable of the lot.

JD Dunne was the youngest and the most hyper. Electronics and computer expert; could get a computer to do anything he wanted it to. Writes some of the best anti-hacker programs in the business. His programs, which he updated when needed, were safeguarding some very important computers. He also had top secret clearance. Felix should never have mistaken him for a delivery boy.

And then there was Ezra P. Standish, undercover-man extraordinaire. An intelligent individual (a given with this group) skilled in the art of infiltration in with any group or situation. A man with a strong sense of right and wrong. Would’ve make a very good spy, if only Standish was English then he could recruit him for Q.

He was also the only one of the seven he had met before. Of course that was nine years ago and when Bond had first met Standish, he was calling himself Edwin Sanders. A twenty-one year old college student on summer holiday in Europe; playing poker in Monte Carlo and holding his own against the big boys. Bond smiled at the memory and decided it was time to force Felix to change his plans.

"Felix I believe these gentlemen have seen the holes in the cover story. We might as well tell them everything." Taking care to show what he was doing, he picked up his briefcase and pulled out files which he passed out around the table, ignoring Felix’s scowl while addressing the group.

"Gentlemen the files you are holding are on two organizations, one is a supremacist group called The Chosen, which I believe you are familiar with. The other is a world-wide criminal organization known as Spectre, headed by Ernst Stavro Blowfeld: a man with no national ties and loyal only to himself."

"Sounds charming," drawled a southern voice.

"It gets better. Spectre sells death to anyone who has the funds to purchase it, or they extort large sums of money from countries or major corporations. Pay or be destroyed is their usual approach."

"You and Mr. Leiter believe this Spectre is in Colorado," asked Chris of the British agent as he scanned the papers in front of him.

"We have reason to believe they are. Three days ago British commandos overran a ski lodge in the Swiss Alps. A self-destruct was disarmed allowing the forces to gather intelligence. There they found evidence of a meeting between The Chosen and Spectre. The Chosen is believed to have made its headquarters in the southwest has it not?"

"Yeah it has, though no one has officially been able to locate it yet." replied Chris. Looking at both spies he asked them again. "Why us and more importantly, why are you in such a hurry to find The Chosen? What weapon did this Spectre sell them that has two governments so upset?"

"Mr. Larabee, isn’t it enough that your government needs your team’s skills to find this group and stop them?" asked Felix.


"Larabee you can be ordered to take this case," Felix snapped.

Chris fixed Felix with a cold stare. "I will not allow my men to go into any case without knowing all the facts. They can get killed that way. If you want our help you’ll fill us in, or leave."

Bond had had enough, "Felix, we are wasting time. They have to know what we’re up against."

"James?" questioned Felix as Bond went on,

"Mr. Larabee, Spectre is developing a deadly virus that can be programmed to attack an individual’s DNA. Much like the smart gun that only allows its owner to fire it. This virus will only attack and kill the specific DNA it has been programmed to go after. As of now we do not believe Spectre has run tests of it outside of the laboratory. We hope they haven’t gotten that far with it. We do believe that they are planning to use the Chosen resources as their testing ground." Bond went on, "For the last six months every major government around the world has been hounding Spectre out of their usual hiding places and not letting them dig into new ones. We hope to destroy the virus and all their research before they get to human testing. Unfortunately, so far we’ve been one step behind them. The Chosen has given Blowfeld’s people a place to finish the work in safety and targets to test it on. What the Chosen doesn’t know, or doesn’t care about, is Spectre’s plan to keep control of the cure. They plan to extort the world for the cure after a demonstration of the virus’s killing power."

The room was quiet, as each man was lost in his own thoughts at the enormity of what the man from Britain had told them sank in. Nathan spoke first.

"Dear God do they realize what they’re doing? The possibility of a world-wide plague."

"Spectre doesn’t care what happens to the world’s population. They aren’t concerned even with ruling what’s left, only that mankind will pay whatever they ask for to get the cure." Surprisingly, that came from Josiah not Bond.

"You had run-ins with Spectre before Mr. Sanchez?" asked Felix.

"In a different life, I did," replied Josiah.

"You’ve now told us why our governments are working together, but you haven’t said what you need us for," Chris stated, not liking where this was going, not liking it at all.

"Because you and your team are the best at what you do and technically this is a domestic affair. On numerous occasions you have brought down groups illegally stockpiling weapons without the media over-reporting the stories. We need to accomplish this mission without the media causing a panic. The real story must never be exposed," Felix told them. "You have on your team experts that will not only be able take out the Chosen but will be able to identify and destroy Spectre’s virus and any records that could be hidden on computers anywhere in the world."

"Mr. Larabee, Spectre must be stopped at whatever the cost. Failure is not an option; the price would be too high." Bond did his best to convince Larabee of the importance of this mission.

"I can’t argue that, we will need all the information you have on Blowfeld and how he’ll react to having you, Mr. Bond, in the same town. You have been a major thorn in his side in the past," Chris told Bond.

At Bond’s questioning look, Chris suddenly grinned and said.

"I’m sure you got full reports on us before you came. We did the same on you and Mr. Leiter. In fact, that’s how we found out about your inquiries into the Chosen, but not the why."

"In that case, why don’t you call me James," Bond told Chris. Both men were beginning to understand each other, and for the time being, that would be enough for them to work together till they put a stop to Spectre’s plans. Friendship could wait until they had time to know each other better.

"Do you have any idea where the Chosen might be at this time?" Leiter asked the seven.

Buck spoke up, "The Chosen has had a few brushes with the law. Seems they get violent when they run into folks that don’t agree with them. Of late, the group seems to be keeping a low profile. I do believe we might have an idea or two where to find them." JD handed him the file he had picked up on his stopover at their office. "Thanks JD". Then Buck addressed the others, "As a rule, a person’s beliefs are his or her own business, but not when they start stockpiling guns and explosives. The Chosen have been rumored to be buying whatever they can get their hands on. The ones that were arrested used a private ski lodge as their address, both as their place of employment and as their residence. Nothing unusual in that, a lot of places keep their help year around. But I bet Ezra’s jag, that’s where we’ll find their headquarters."

James and Felix looked over the file, noticing that it had a lot more information than the official one they had gotten.

"If you don’t mind me asking, this has a lot more in it then the one we were given." James said.

"Well, I imagine you got the official report that only has proven facts and none of the stuff we get from our informants." Buck told him, "That one has everything we’ve uncovered, even if it is just the word on the streets…. and that’s not a lot."

"It’s a lot more than we had when I left England. It gives us a place to start looking," James told them.

Leiter spoke up "That raises another issue, Mr. Jackson with your medical knowledge, would you be able to recognize the virus research if you saw it?"

"I’d have to study the reports you have on it to familiarize myself with it. But yes, I believe I could."

"Mr. Dunne, we’ll need you to create a program that can hunt down and destroy any files hidden on any computer in the world that Spectre could have hidden research in," Felix made it a statement and not a question.

JD was uncomfortable with the request. "I’m good with getting information out of computers. But you need somebody to hack in and create a program that can get past firewalls and stuff. I don’t know much about that part of the computer world," JD said with as much conviction as he could, glancing over to Chris and Josiah as he said it.

Josiah sighed and told JD, "Go make your phone call."

JD looked at Chris who nodded his head yes; JD got up and left the room. Buck had seen what had gone on and was upset that he wasn’t in on what was bothering his little brother.

"Now wait a cotton-picking minute. What’s going on here? What’s got JD all riled up?"

Felix watched the exchange between the three men. "I take it Mr. Dunne’s standing in this area isn’t common knowledge within the team?"

"No it isn’t and I will have to know who decided to give you access to that information Mr. Leiter," said Josiah, "It is on a need-to-know basis."

"My apology Mr. Sanchez, the person who gave me that information considered it necessary to a successful end to this mission. Only myself and Agent Bond know of Mr. Dunne’s past expertise in the field, it will go no further."


JD returned and took his seat; he had regained his composer.

"I’ve been told I can finally tell y’all about my part time job with the intelligence section of the government." Looking at each member of the team before he resumed. "It was back in college when I started writing programs for them, anti-hack programs that now protect some of the nation’s top secret computers. While it’s not a major secret, the less people who know about it the better. Part of the agreement I signed when I started working for them was not to talk about it to anyone. Only Chris and Josiah knew about it; Chris cause he’s my boss. There are times when I had to be able to go and do updates or change the programs. Josiah, because….well I don’t know why Josiah. I was just told to go to him if I needed help in anything." JD was relieved that it was finally out in the open, he didn’t like having secrets from his friends, especially Buck.

Josiah smiled at JD’s last statement; "I too worked, for our nation’s intelligence community, once upon a time. I retired from that field years ago and went back to teaching. It wasn’t until I met Nathan, that a career in law enforcement ever entered my mind. I was asked to keep an eye on JD only because I was here, and to lend a helping hand if he needed one."

JD knew that Buck wasn’t happy about being kept in the dark for all that time. He would have to find a way to make it up to his best friend and surrogate big brother.

Sensing the need for a break, Ezra spoke up, "Gentlemen, as the hour is going on twelve, Ah believe a midday repast is in order. Doesn’t Ms. Recillos have a private area at her establishment we could utilize? We can avail ourselves of the location to continue this discussion and satisfy our appetites at the same time. It would also be in maintaining this farce, for example, where else would Team Seven take visitors to lunch if not at our preferred eating establishment. Consumption of our repast in the office would elevate the curiosity of our colleagues." Ezra then turned to the spies. "Are you two gentlemen mobile? We can share transportation if you are not."

"Uh?" asked Felix

A soft Texan draw translated for the bewildered Felix. "He’s asking ya if’n you’re hungry and if’n ya got your own car or are ya willing to share a ride with one of us? Ez has a tendency ta over use words, it’s a bad habit we’ve been trying to break him of for a while." Vin got up and started for the door, pushing Ezra out ahead of him, ignoring Ezra’s comments about what he thought about bad habits and who had them.

The other men followed, all that is except Buck and JD. Buck called out to Chris "We’ll meet ya there."

"Don’t be too long," Chris replied as he left; the two of them needed to sort this out. He left them alone to do so.

Before Buck could say anything, JD jumped in apologizing.

"Buck I’m sorry, but I couldn’t say anything, I took an oath not to tell anybody, signed papers and everything." JD was up and pacing back and forth across the room, his mouth running at top speed as he tried to get it all out at once. "It never came up before and they, the spooks that hired me, kinda discouraged me from talking about it to anybody. At the time I needed the money, with mom getting sick. She didn’t want me to leave school, and the job was for our government and I…" JD was running out of steam, not sure what to say. More than anything he wanted Buck not to be mad at him.

"Ah kid, I ain’t mad at you, just a little disappointed that you kept it from me."

"How could I have worked it into a conversation? Wait till we’re washing dishes and say, "Hey Buck did I ever tell you I worked part time for the spooks in intelligence. Don’t tell anyone, they could turn up missing permanently." JD looked down at the floor. "I never had a family till I joined up with Team Seven, now I got six brothers, but the most important one is... is the one who shares his home with me," looking Buck in the eyes, "I never want to lose him." JD kept looking up at Buck with his puppy dog eyes and waited for Buck to say something.

"Hell kid, you ain’t ever going to lose this old dog. I never had much of a family either; I’m sure not going to let my littlest brother go for any reason. You’re stuck with me forever kid or till I can get Casey to make an honest man out of you. Then I’m going to be Uncle Buck to your little ones and spoil them rotten." Putting his arm around JD, they walked out and made their way to the saloon.


Buck and JD worked their way through the lunch crowd at Inez’s saloon stopping to say hello and trade insults with fellow ATF agents. They finally made it to the back where Inez had a section divided off for private parties. There they found the rest of their team and the two spies. The secluded space gave them the privacy they needed to talk and still left them in plain sight.

As Buck came up to the table, Inez was talking to Bond. Her smiling face and body language didn’t set well with Buck. She was enjoying the man’s attention way too much.

"Inez honey, what do you have for your Buck today?" trying to detract her from the smooth British agent. Buck sat down and tried to get Inez’s attention for himself. Inez ignored Buck, and said hi to JD, then told him their orders would be right out.

JD asked, "What did we order?"

Josiah spoke up, "We got you your usual boys, no surprises."

"Ya been missing some good stories on Ez, seems James here met Ez a few years back when he was a scrawny kid still in college," Vin chuckled.

"Ah was not scrawny, Ah had just not filled out as yet. Ah was on summer holiday enjoying the sights."

"Where was this?" asked JD wondering what all they had missed.

Bond filled him in, "Monte Carlo, Ezra was playing poker at one of the large casinos and doing quite well as I recall. I on the other hand had ran into a bit of trouble that young Edwin Sander’s timely arrival got me out of. His help put an end to a group’s unpleasant misdeeds."

Ezra seemed embarrassed at Bond’s praise, "It was nothing, Ah learned a great deal from the experience." Catching Vin’s raised eyebrow he added, "Ah was calling maself Sanders, in attempt to stay out of Mother’s way."

Josiah grinned, and asked Bond "When this is over I’d like to hear about that bit of trouble and Ezra’s part in putting an end to it."

"Of course, though you might enjoy more hearing about the way the rest of his holiday went for him. As a thank you, I took him round to some of the more interesting places a young man should see while in Europe; on his own for the first time." Bond said this with a straight face, but his eyes were laughing. Josiah smiled knowingly as Ezra choked on his drink.

Felix and Chris had been talking quietly as the others listened to Bond and Josiah. The noise from the rest of the saloon would have kept anyone from hearing what they were talking about but the two men kept it down anyway. The two were working on a plan, part of which Felix and James had discussed on the way to Denver. The rest would depend on how good Team Seven really was.

"All right boys, Felix and I think we have the basis of a plan." Chris turned to Ezra whom Vin was pounding on his back as he coughed up his drink. "Ez, you Ok?"

"Ah will be if Vin stops assaulting me." Vin sat back in his chair without a comment, but only after giving Ezra an I’ll-get-the-rest-of-the-story-later look.

Chris asked the British agent, "James, will Blowfeld spend the time and manpower to go after you if he knows you’re in the area?"

"Yes, he would want to be sure of my motives for being here. But I believe I’d be more useful at judging Spectre’s defenses and how to breach them."

"We agree, but having Spectre dividing its forces to go looking for British and American intelligence agents, who just happen to be on vacation in the same area as they are, would also be to our advantage." Chris looked over at Ezra and Vin.

Bond had caught on to the fact that Chris hadn’t used names when mentioning agents. "So if Blowfeld hears that James Bond and his friend Felix Leiter of the CIA were vacationing in the area where he had just set up shop he wouldn’t be able to resist sending out men to investigate, leaving less for us to deal with at the ski lodge. That would leave untrained forces of the Chosen and whatever men Spectre had left." He turned to look at the two young men at the table.

Ezra had caught on as well; he was smirking when he asked James, "Does this mean Ah get to drive the Aston-Martin?"

Before James answered Josiah asked, "How well can you do James’ accent?"

Without a trace of his own southern drawl Ezra answered in a perfect imitation of the Englishman. " I will have no problem with the upper class English accent that has just a trace of the highlands in it. An accent that only comes from attending the best of the old schools, boarding schools, that is. It will take more than the accent to fool Blowfeld’s underlings, though. They will have to believe in the illusion that I’m Bond and that may take a few props."

Felix had figured out what Ezra was getting at and smiled at his friend’s discomfort and decided to get back a little at him.

"He’s right you know James, you always drive that fancy car of yours no matter what country you’re in. And there are all those nifty gadgets Q sends you out with on each mission, it’s expected."

Giving his old friend a disgusted looked, James Bond turned to Chris and Josiah. "They’re right I do start each mission with a few tools of the trade with me. In fact Q…" seeing they didn’t know who he meant, James explained. "Q is the head of our research and weapons development departments. He also makes sure agents in the field are outfitted and supplied with whatever is needed. In fact he will be in your country later this afternoon dropping off the car and a few other useful items. If Ezra and Vin are going to be impersonating Felix and me they should go along and get familiar with the equipment. I’ll need to make a call so Q can update his equipment choices. "

By this time all of the men had finished eating, Buck spoke up, "That’ll take care of Vin and Ezra, what about the rest of us?"

"We’ll go back to the office where Nathan will study the files on the virus. JD, after he gets us everything he can on the ski lodge and the area around it, will start working on the search and destroy program for the computers. You, Josiah, Felix, James and I will work on the best ways to get into the ski lodge, destroy the virus and then get out."

"Just like old times in the Navy ain’t it?"

"Remember, we were a lot younger then. We don’t do this on a regular basis anymore."

Felix sat back and watched Chris handle his men, knowing Larabee was the only one they would listen to anyway. Team Seven was made up of seven strong-willed and bullheaded individuals that didn’t give their loyalty lightly. After meeting these men, his respect for Larabee had grown considerably. Anyone who could forge these men into a crime-fighting unit had more leadership qualities then most generals, and more patience than a saint. He would only make suggestions and bring in his people as support and clean up.


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