Ezra was seated in a booth, his back to the wall in a small out of the way
cafe, or as out of the way as one can get at the 16th Street Mall.
It was mid afternoon on a Saturday and the café was only catering
to a few patrons. An early snow had covered the ground earlier but
had been vanquished beneath the fickle Colorado sun. Ezra sipped at
his bitter coffee, ignoring the stale danish. Instead of his usual
stylish attire, he was dressed in blue jeans and a dark muscle shirt.
A plain baseball style cap covered his thick sandy-brown hair, allowing only
a strand or two to peek out from underneath. He appeared engrossed
in his newspaper, but the highly trained agent was totally aware of everything
and everyone around him. He was not surprised when an older gentleman
slid into the seat across from him. The waitress came up immediately.
"Just coffee, please," the gentleman told her, giving her a quick smile as
he removed his wire-framed sunglasses, slipping them into his shirt pocket.
The man's face mirrored Standish's strong features and clean shaven appearance,
except with a military style haircut, which was graying slightly on the
sides. He wore black khakis and a tan polo shirt under a black leather
jacket. The man's blue eyes always reminded Ezra of Larabee's icy orbs,
which he would never relate at risk of bodily harm to his person.
Ezra smiled at his long time friend and mentor. Lenny Hoskins was an
FBI agent out of Atlanta and had trained Ezra. They had hated each
other on sight, but their fate had been determined and they had become steadfast
friends. Lenny was the only person, outside of the six men he now worked
with that he trusted with his life. But Lenny had a little more than
the others did; he had Ezra's confidence. Lenny Hoskins was the only
person that the standoffish agent trusted with all his secret fears and
dreams. Something the others had yet to achieve. Lenny was the
brother he always wanted and needed. He should have felt happy seeing
his old friend, but something in the FBI Agent's message didn't give the
perceptive undercover man a warm fuzzy.
Ezra folded the newspaper and laid it aside as the waitress brought Lenny
"So Lenny, what brings you to the wild, wild west?" Ezra greeted.
"What? I can't just come to visit an old friend?" Lenny replied, trying
to sound sufficiently hurt by Ezra's doubtful gaze.
Standish stared intently at his friend, waiting for a more acceptable
answer. He could read Lenny like a book even with pages missing.
"Alright, you're right I'm here for a reason." Lenny's voice dropped
in volume and took on a more somber tone, one Ezra was very familiar with
and never liked.
"Do you know a Berend Damhoff?"
Ezra cocked his head slightly and his brows came together in thought.
"No, should I?"
"Well, he owns a trucking business here in Denver, which is only a cover
for moving drugs across the border. Word has it that he's put a contract
out on you."
The young ATF agent stared impassively back at Hoskins as if the man had
just told him what flavor ice cream he liked. He leaned back in the
vinyl booth hearing the air press out of the cushions. 'Well, this
was a first, he had actually become important enough that somebody wanted
"It appears this Berend Damhoff wants to get you, maybe before you get him,"
Lenny continued. He noticed the slight smile on Ezra's face and was
afraid the over-confident agent wouldn't take the threat seriously.
There had been times when Lenny thought that Ezra might have a death wish,
but then he realized his friend was just cocky enough to think he couldn't
die. Ezra would do whatever it took to catch the bad guy.
Ezra Standish was the best undercover agent west of the Mississippi river
and apparently his expertise had not gone unnoticed.
"Now Ez, you know Larabee and I don't exactly see eye to eye. Hell,
I hate the man's guts, but he knows his job, you need to tell him."
"No," Ezra simply answered, trying once again to drink the flavorless liquid
they called coffee.
"Why not?" Exasperation filled his voice. He knew he wouldn't be able
to convince Ezra to ask for help.
"Because, with all good intentions they would lock me away somewhere for
my own protection and maybe get themselves killed," Ezra explained.
"And this is a bad thing because?" Lenny asked with an amused grin.
"I'm sorry," he quickly replied seeing the not so amused glare from his
"I couldn't live with that, Lenny." Ezra stared down into his
coffee. He and Larabee didn't always get along, but he would never
wish any harm to the somber Team Leader. He hated to admit it, even
to himself, but the six men he worked with had managed to chip a hole through
his wall of indifference, which protected and hid the real man inside.
They all knew the self-serving, egotistical individual he portrayed was far
from the truth.
Lenny didn't like certain individuals of the elite ATF unit, but it was for
personal reasons. He knew they were the best at their jobs and they
seemed to be trying to pull Ezra into their family, whether he wanted to
With a resigned sigh, Lenny conceded defeated. "Well, I guess that leaves
me no other choice then to become your back up."
Ezra smiled, it had been a long time since the two men had worked
together. Lenny was the only man who had stood by him when rumors of
him being on the take started to fly. Lenny was glad when Ezra was
offered a job with the ATF, hoping his young prodigy could start anew.
No one in the office missed the fact that the usually composed agent seemed
a bit on edge. Agent Dunne passed by Ezra's cubicle, stopping just
outside as the southern accent rose in volume and anger.
"Mother please, I do not want you to visit at this time."
JD couldn't understand why Ezra was talking that way to his mother.
"I promise, if you stay away for now, on my next vacation I'll come to the
South of France and meet what's her name, yes." There was a minute
of quiet then, "Good-bye mother." Ezra hung up the phone and closed
his eyes, releasing the breath he always seemed to hold whenever he had to
talk with the whirlwind that was his mother. "Mr. Dunne, please refrain
from eavesdropping on my conversations," Ezra angrily accosted the young
agent, causing him to jump slightly.
"I'm sorry Ezra I didn't..." JD stammered.
Ezra waved the flustered agent's apology away. "What do you want?"
The same sharp tone he had used with his mother still lingered in his
voice. JD handed the agitated agent a folder.
"Here's the information on that case you asked for."
Ezra took another deep breath and tried to relax. He was uptight, someone
was trying to kill him, and he feared for the others, more than he feared
for himself. He looked at the young computer whiz and forced a
smile. "Thank you, Mr. Dunne."
"Is everything alright, Ezra?" The young agent was totally baffled at the
older man's sudden mood swings.
"Yes, everything is fine," he lied. JD stared for a moment, shrugged
his shoulders and continued on down the hallway.
Ezra sat back at his desk. It had been two days since Lenny had told
him someone was trying to kill him, and he wasn't getting any closer to
discovering who that someone was, or why this man Damhoff wanted him dead.
Berend Damhoff was a seedy character but shrewd. He supposively used
his trucks to transport drugs across state lines and even borders but there
had yet to be enough evidence to arrest him. Ezra had checked through
all his past cases for any connection to Berend Damhoff but found nothing.
Ezra picked up the phone to call Lenny he needed a big favor.
The two men met at a deli a few blocks from the Agency. It catered mostly
to the yuppie crowd, so Standish wasn't worry about one of his associates
walking in unexpectedly.
"Are you nuts?" Lenny asked his young friend.
Standish just smiled, revealing his dimples. "I've been accused of
Hoskins shook his head.
"Can you do it?" Ezra repeated.
Lenny took a deep breath. "Yeah, Judge Travis owes me one, but what
do you think you'll find at Damhoff's trucking office?"
"Hopefully, the name of the assassin, or I'd settle for any criminal activity
at this point."
"I'll have the Judge tell Larabee that the FBI received a tip that Damhoff
has a huge cache awaiting delivery. You know I'll have to make myself
known to him then."
Ezra cringed slightly at this; he knew Larabee despised the smug FBI agent
and the feeling was mutual. He couldn't understand why the two men
hated each other so much they were so much alike. Again, the threat
of bodily harm kept him silent.
The next morning Ezra didn't react to Larabee's sudden announcement.
Chris informed the team that they were going to raid Damhoff trucking in
two hours. Everyone started hustling to prepare, checking weapons and
communications and donning vests.
Lenny Hoskins exited the elevator thirty minutes later. Tanner stood
and blocked Hoskins' entrance to Chris' office. He knew Hoskins was
a good agent, but that didn't mean he had to like him. The man had
an arrogance about him that rivaled Wilmington's.
Tanner stood an inch taller than the FBI agent but this didn't deter the
veteran agent. "Since when did Larabee get himself a guard dog?" Lenny
sneered at the lean sharpshooter.
Josiah came up just in time to grab Tanner, who was about to punch the smug
agent in the face. "Easy Brother Vin, he's one of the good guys."
"Ha, since when?" Tanner laughed, shrugging off Sanchez's restraining hand.
"Brother Hoskins, I assume you're here because of the raid. I would
suggest you stay on our good side as we will be covering your back," Josiah
threatened, the slight smile on his long face taking away some of the menacing
Lenny casually walked past the two men. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Larabee yelled as Lenny strode into his office uninvited and sat down
in one of the two chairs that faced the huge oak desk.
The FBI agent casually crossed his legs and resurrected a calm facade, which
he knew would only piss off the ATF leader. "This is an FBI case, we
asked for your assistance." Hoskins replied, unfazed by Chris' attitude
toward him. Ezra quietly appeared in the doorway and grinned at the
two men. They reminded him of two dominant wolves, each vying for control
of the pack, neither one willing to back down or be intimidated by the other.
Chris shot a deadly glare at Standish, knowing the two men were friends and
probably protected each other. He was glad Ezra had someone to confide
in, he only wished it wasn't the smug asshole in front of him. Larabee
took four long strides to the door and slammed it in Ezra's amused face.
"Okay, what's going on?" Chris asked, turning to Hoskins.
"Like the Judge has informed you, we have reason to believe that Damhoff
trucking is ready to transport a large quantity of drugs. Hopefully,
we can catch him before he ships it out."
Chris suspected that there was more but refrained from saying so. Hoskins
only better hope that no one was hurt, or there would be hell to pay and
Larabee knew all about hell.
The raid went down by the numbers with Chris, Lenny, Vin and Buck entering
through the front, and Josiah, Nathan, Ezra and JD through the back.
Vin was suspicious from the get go. He didn't notice any guards or
"FREEZE, ATF!" Chris shouted as everyone charged into the huge open
bay garage. Four semi-tractor trailers stood in the bay areas.
Lenny figured he could keep everyone busy searching the trucks. They
found four people in the warehouse, three drivers' and one mechanic, who
readily gave up. As soon as everything was secure, Ezra slipped away.
Ezra had studied the floor plans to the warehouse and knew exactly where
Damhoff's office was. When he opened the office door he found Berend
Damhoff himself, calmly sitting behind his desk. "Mr. Damhoff, I presume?"
"Ah, agent Standish." Damhoff glared at the brazen agent.
Damhoff was a thin, stooped man with gleaming hazel eyes. He had come
to America with his family fifteen years ago from The Netherlands.
Ten years ago, he had vanished from the Denver area only to reappear a year
ago to re-establish his drug empire and take care of a few debts. Damhoff
had many connections and always stayed one step ahead of law officials.
He knew all about the undercover agent standing before him and knew that
Standish was aware it was him who had set up the hit. "Hope you have
your will in order, agent Standish," Berend sneered.
Standish forced the man up out of the chair and led him into the bay area
turning him over to Lenny. He would have preferred beating the information
out of the contemptible little man, but that would probably make Larabee
a little suspicious. Buck and JD watched over the prisoners as the
rest started searching the trucks. Ezra nodded to Lenny and headed
back to the offices.
Once back inside he quickly started going through desk drawers and filing
cabinets. He happened upon one that was locked, removing his lock picking
tools he quickly opened the file drawer. What he saw made his heart
skip a beat. Seven manila folders, each labeled with one of the seven
agent's names stared back at him. The first two were labeled Chris
Larabee and Ezra Standish and were the only ones with anything inside.
Ezra grabbed the two folders, and placed them behind his back under his jacket,
then closed the drawer and returned to the others. When Hoskins saw
Ezra's face he knew the agent had found something.
Damhoff retained a smart-ass grin on his face as he watched the agents
meticulously search his trucks. He had ceased drug operations when
he put out the contract on Standish's life.
After an hour and a half, Larabee came up to Hoskins, not hiding the anger
on his rugged face, which actually caused the FBI agent to step back.
"NOTHING! We found nothing!"
Hoskins fought back the urge to laugh and shrugged. "Oh really, well,
even the FBI makes mistakes." His condescending manner was not helping
to alleviate the ATF leader's growing anger.
Chris looked ready to tear out the smart-aleck agent's heart and eat it for
dinner. "Don't you ever make mistakes, Mr. Larabee?" Lenny calmly asked.
Standish flinched, for a second he actually feared for his friend's life.
Larabee could be very dangerous if you got on his bad side and Hoskins was
definitely on that side right now. Ezra was about to intervene when
Damhoff saved him the trouble.
"I'll have all your badges for this!" Damhoff raged, interrupting the
standoff between Chris and Lenny. "You have violated my rights as a tax paying
"Oh, please," Lenny quipped as he stepped up to Damhoff handing him a piece
of paper. "Here, call this number to register a complaint." Lenny
turned on his heel and walked away. He knew the drug trafficker wouldn't
do anything. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing Damhoff's deadly glare
and was surprised to see it directed at Chris Larabee. The blond leader
was too busy shouting into his cell phone to notice.
The Seven returned to their office riding on a wave of questions and disparaging
comments, most directed at the inefficiency and incompetence of the FBI.
Chris stormed into his office without saying a word to anyone and slammed
the door, knocking several pictures from the wall. Tanner glared at
Hoskins suspiciously, which the highly trained agent ignored. Hoskins
entered the coffee room, immediately silencing the four men who stood there.
"Okay Hoskins, what's really going on?" Nathan asked. Lenny picked
up a donut, which Dunne snatched from his hand.
"Whatever do you mean, Agent Jackson?"
"Jeezes, he even sounds like Ezra. We won't get anything out of him,"
Buck spat. He didn't like being made a fool of.
Lenny decided he was pushing his luck and decided to retreat to friendlier
territory. He felt four pairs of glaring eyes on his back as he left
the break area. He had to admit these people were no dummies they suspected
something, Ezra better pray they don't discover what it is.
That night at Ezra's apartment the two men sat at the dining room table,
both with drinks in their hands and half eaten sub sandwiches. Ezra
opened his file first, finding a picture of himself inside and seeing his
address and a description of his car. There were several newspaper
clippings regarding cases he had worked on. The clippings made no mention
of his name but he suspected that Damhoff somehow knew. On a white
3 x 5 card was typed a name "El Diablo" with his name printed underneath.
"Does this mean anything to you?" Handing the card to Lenny.
Hoskins looked at the name and shook his head. "No, but I'll call my office
and see what can be dug up."
Ezra stared down at the manila folder with Chris' name embossed on it, for
some reason it scared him. Why would Damhoff have a folder on Larabee?
or any of the agents for that matter? ATF didn't normally deal in drug
smuggling. He slowly opened it, his fear manifesting itself as a cold
hard sweat on his body.
Ezra swore softly, and Lenny stood up and walked around to stand over his
shoulder. Inside were again several newspaper clippings about various
cases. The other information was more disturbing. Ezra pulled
out a piece of paper, which had information about Larabee from ten years
ago including his home address. Newspaper clippings were paper clipped
to the page telling of the death of a homicide detective's family.
Ezra didn't know much about what had happened to Chris' family. He
knew a bomb meant for Larabee had killed them. Another white 3 x 5
card fell out, again the name "El Diablo" with Chris' name typed
underneath. The only difference, this card sported the red stamped
word 'FAILED' across it.
The suddenly wearisome agent ran his hand through his hair, laying the
card on the table. Ezra leaned back in his chair, releasing a nervous
breath. "It appears this El Diablo might be our assassin and if he
is, he might also be the same one who tried to kill Chris 10 years ago and
killed his family."
Hoskins returned to his seat the implication settling hard in his stomach.
Ezra grabbed his glass of scotch and downed it fast. He raised his
hands and pressed the heels of his palms to his temples. Neither man
said a word.
"Ezra, you have to tell Larabee." Hoskins finally broke the maddening silence.
Standish's easygoing expression fled, replaced with an abiding sadness. "No,
I can't. I can't bring that all back. Do you have any idea what that
could do to him?" Buck had confided in him several weeks ago that he
thought Chris was finally putting the past behind him and starting to live
his life again. What would this do to Chris? The murderer of
his family was now trying to murder one of his agents. Lenny stared
at his old friend, realizing that these men meant more to him then even he
"Why would Damhoff want to assassinate a homicide detective?" Ezra
loudly mused. Lenny shrugged, still rifling through the newspaper
"Ezra this is getting to complicated we need to bring the others in," he
pleaded with his friend, which he rarely did.
"Not yet Lenny, let's try and see if we can't smoke this 'El Diablo out."
Standish knew what he had here was only circumstantial evidence against Damhoff,
which couldn't even be used since he stole it. He wanted to tie Damhoff
and El Diablo to the murder of Chris' family. He suddenly felt it was
something he had to do. Larabee had saved him by giving him a job.
Chris even gave him a second chance when he had run out on their first
case. Ezra owed it to this man. He didn't want to reawaken Chris'
demons, but maybe finding this El Diablo would help put them to rest forever.
The intuitive FBI agent knew Ezra was seeking acceptance from this unique
group of men and especially from Larabee, who Lenny could tell Ezra greatly
respected even though Ezra would never admit this to anyone.
"Okay, two days that's all. Then we call in the troops and you wear a vest
at all times, understand."
Standish smiled at Lenny's concern for him.
"I want you to stay in touch with me every minute, if you go to the john
I better know it," Lenny added, trying to keep the smile from his face and
his tone serious. He didn't like this, and he knew they would have
to face Larabee's wrath when this was all over with. He only hoped
they were both alive to enjoy it.
Ezra arrived early to work the next day and headed down to the basement to
see what he could dig up in the old records. He wanted to find information
on what Larabee had been involved with when his family was killed.
He searched for over an hour going over every case file since Larabee entered
law enforcement up to the death of his family. He found nothing, no
mention of Damhoff or El Diablo. He even checked Buck's files, since
the two men had worked together for a number of years. He was tempted
to talk to Wilmington but then dismissed the thought. He was sure Buck
would help him, but the man couldn't keep a secret if his life depended upon
it. Ezra looked at his watch and knew the others would be coming in
soon, so he headed back to his office to do some more research on his computer.
Just as he reached his desk, his phone rang. The others were filing
in, Josiah and Vin giving the undercover agent an incredulous look.
They couldn't believe the routinely tardy agent had beaten them into the
office. Standish just smiled and returned to his phone conversation.
"Yeah Lenny, what do you have for me?" Ezra asked, keeping his voice low
so the others wouldn't hear.
"El Diablo is, or was, a notorious hit man. His real name is Thomas Cruz,
usually only works in Mexico and South America but if paid enough will come
north. As far as I can tell, he hasn't been in America since he killed
Larabee's family. Now that murder was never pinned to him."
There was silence between the two men and Ezra contemplated what was said.
Why would a hit man out of Mexico come back after all these years to kill
an ATF agent? Could he be trying to get to Larabee through his men?
That would explain those folders with all their names printed on them.
He knew Damhoff was the key.
"Have you found any connection between Larabee and Damhoff?" Lenny asked,
breaking Ezra from his reverie.
"Nothing. There's got to be a connection somewhere we're just missing
it." Lenny could hear the frustration in the young agent's voice.
"Well, you have one more day Ez, then we tell Larabee," Hoskins interjected.
"Yeah, sure. I got to go Lenny talk to you later."
Lenny knew that tone, but before he could say anything Ezra hung up.
Ezra arrived home a little past seven that evening to the sound of his answering
machine picking up his ringing phone, but the person at the other end hung
up. The phone rang again, and again the answering machine picked up,
and again the caller hung up. The third time Ezra picked up the phone.
"Yeah, Mr. Standish, you want information on El Diablo? Meet me at
the Crystal Rose on Lookout Mountain in one hour." The phone went
dead. Ezra hadn't recognized the voice, and he knew it was a trap,
but he had to take the chance. He picked up the phone to call Lenny
then stopped. He couldn't risk the FBI agent's life with his foolish
escapades. He wrote Crystal Rose on the notepad next to the phone and
grabbed his coat.
Ezra drove his jag up the steep mountain road. The Crystal Rose was
a rustic style banquet hall used for parties and weddings, there were several
in the Denver Metro area. The road twisted and turned its way slowly
around the mountain. The jag's headlights swept out into nothingness
at the edge of the roadway then came back to reveal an empty road ahead.
Halfway up the mountain bright beam headlights, from a semi rig appeared
in his rearview mirror. The undercover agent got a sudden bad feeling
in the pit of his stomach.
He felt the car lurch forward, his seat belt holding him back, as the semi
slammed into his rear. It then tried to get alongside the jag, scraping
the side panel. Ezra punched it, the steep grade along with the winding
road making it hard to get away. He fought to keep the car on the
road. The semi rammed his back again only this time it didn't let
up. Ezra slammed on the brakes, but the sporty car was no match for
the behemoth truck. The semi backed off again then came up alongside
and slowly started pushing the car toward the edge of the road and the dark
abyss beyond. Ezra felt the car leave the road only for a second then
a bone jarring crash as it touched earth again. He threw his arms up
as his headlights revealed branches and trees coming straight toward him.
The truck stopped at the edge the road its headlights stretching out over
the dense undergrowth.
A medium height, dark-haired man stepped down from the cab of the truck and
looked down into the thick, dark foliage. He had taken this job for
only one reason. He had been about to retire when Damhoff called asking
him to kill an undercover ATF agent. He was about to turn the man down
until Damhoff told him that he was a friend of Chris Larabee's. This
was his chance to clean up his first and only mistake. He was getting
paid for Standish, but Larabee was a personal bonus and one he owed
Damhoff. He had failed once; he wouldn't fail again.
The air bag in the jag had saved him from the initial impact with the guard
rail, but not the final one with the tree. It was pitch black, the
only sound being the ticking of a cooling engine. Ezra tried to open
his eyes, but the pain that shot through his head made him scream out.
He tried to move and it felt like every bone in his body was broken.
He swallowed, berating himself for not informing Lenny where he was going,
there would be hell to pay he chuckled inwardly. He tried his door
having to reach over using his right hand, but it wouldn't budge. His
next mistake was trying to move his legs, this brought a depth of pain he
could never have imagined, luckily he didn't have to feel it for very long
as pain saving darkness laid claimed to his tortured body.
Hoskins stormed into the ATF offices, anguish colored his usually self-assured
visage. Everyone promptly dropped what they were doing and followed
him. Lenny flung open the door to Chris' office and walked in.
He ignored Judge Travis, who was sitting in a chair in front of the desk.
Hoskins strode right up to the desk putting his palms down on the shiny
surface. Larabee glared at the intractable agent, this was the second
time this man had stormed, uninvited into his office and it was beginning
to piss him off.
"Have you heard from Ezra?" Lenny asked, forcing his voice to remain
"What? You storm into my office to ask me a question like that. Get
out!" Chris rose from behind his desk ready to bodily remove the obstinate
"Ezra's usually late," Buck added from the doorway, he wasn't getting a good
feeling about this. Ezra was usually late, except for the last few
Lenny slammed his fist on Chris' desk. "You don't understand?"
"Why don't you enlighten us, Mr. Hoskins?" Judge Travis calmly asked.
He was getting a bad feeling too. He had done the agent a favor by
helping to stage the raid. He was beginning to think he hadn't been
"It's my fault." Lenny bowed his head in resignation. "I don't know
why I let him talk me into this. We should have told you a long time
ago." Lenny started pacing in front of Chris' desk. Chris came
out from behind his desk and glared at the agent who continued to pace in
front of him.
"What are you talking about?" Chris felt the hair on his neck prickle.
"I didn't come here because of any drug trafficking I came here to warn Ezra
that there was a hit out on him."
"What?" Larabee grabbed Lenny by the jacket, halting his annoying pacing.
Everyone thought Hoskins would kill Chris if he ever laid a hand on him,
but the FBI agent seemed to feel he deserved it. He didn't fight or
try and pull away from the blond leader's grasp.
"Chris, let him go," Travis yelled.
Lenny turned and looked at the others, seeing the concern and fear in their
eyes. Chris shoved the older agent away.
"Ezra wanted to find out who the assassin was. He was afraid if he
told you all, you would just lock him up somewhere and get yourselves killed,"
Chris began pacing his office and the others quietly moved inside, keeping
to the walls so as not to get into the path of their boss' quiet rage.
"Berend Damhoff is the one who put out the contact," Lenny admitted.
"So the raid was what? A diversion?" Josiah questioned, not like being
"Not exactly, Ezra was trying to get information on the assassin," Lenny
answered, noticing the angry glares.
"When did you last hear from him?" Chris broke in.
"I talked to him before he left for home last night." Hoskins
paused. "I then tried to call him all night and didn't get an answer."
Chris stopped and stood in the middle of the room. "Well, I know where
we can get answers."
The agents entered the open bay warehouse, seeing Berend Damhoff standing
near one of his trucks giving instructions to a driver.
"Yes gentlemen, do you wish to search my place of business once again?"
Larabee was in no mood, but neither was Lenny and Chris was surprised when
he rushed forward and slammed the arrogant drug dealer into the side of the
truck throwing his arm across his throat.
"Where is he?" Lenny sneered, spitting into the drug lord's face.
"You better answer him," Chris warned, crossing his arms across his chest
and allowing a faint smile to play on his lips. Wilmington out-and-out
grinned as he leaned on JD's shoulder, enjoying the show. Tanner wanted
to just pull his gun and shoot the man in various body parts until he talked.
"You better control your man, Larabee," Damhoff spat.
Chris' grin grew wider. "Well, Mr. Damhoff, Agent Hoskins here is not
one of my men. He's FBI, so I have no control over him and why would
I want to stop him anyway?" With that Lenny put more pressure on Damhoff's
throat causing the man to choke and his eyes to bulge.
"Now, I'll ask you one more time where is agent Standish?" Lenny repeated.
"Who?" Damhoff replied, the word strangled in his throat
"You know who you sonuavbitch." Lenny was close to pulling his gun and shooting
the diminutive man.
"Chris!" Josiah yelled out. Chris turned and walked toward the huge
agent who was examining the front side panel of a silver tractor rig.
He ran his hand over the slight dent and black streaks.
"What is it, Josiah?" Chris asked, noticing what had the spiritual
"This is black paint scraped off of something." Josiah straightened
as Vin and Buck approached. "Ezra's jag is black," Buck unnecessarily