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Vin was working in the barn on Saturday afternoon. Chris was at a Team Leaders conference in DC, and had left him a long list of chores. They had a sorrel mare due any day now so he was confined to the ranch. He checked on the mare at noon and found her a little edgy."Won't be long now Sassy," he cooed as he tickled her ears. "Bet you give us a real looker."
Fifteen minutes later as he was grooming Peso in the aisle, he heard tires on the driveway. He walked to the opening with Peso following. A dark blue van with tinted windows stopped by the house. A man, fiftiesh, dark skinned and balding got out and headed for the house. A tingle ran up his spine - a warning sign that something was not right.
"Can I help you?" He raised his voice to be heard across the yard.
"Yeah. Looking for Chris Larabee, he around?" The man looked carefully at the slim, long-haired guy standing in the barn doorway after answering.
"Nope." Vin returned the man's stare.
"Who are you?" The question was asked as the man approached the barn.
"Better question is who are you?" he responded, his drawl heavy.
Peso had moved closer to Vin, his ears back and teeth barred as he picked up on the tension. Vin's left hand moved back to the horse's chest in reassurance.
"Old friend of Larabee's. I'm in town for a convention and thought I'd look him up." The man smiled but it never reached his eyes.
"Got a name?" Vin repeated the question.
"Ben Simon and you are..." The man stopped four feet from Vin. At 6'2" and close to 250 pounds, he towered over the slim, 5'10" sharpshooter.
"Larabee's trainer. He's out of town 'til Thursday. Leave your number, and I'll have him call ya." Vin's eyes never left the man's face, and every alarm system in his body was screaming. Yet he stood there calmly - legs spread slightly, thumbs tucked in the belt loops of his faded jeans, and the man trying to stare him down never picked up on it.
"I'll try him at his office." The man turned and started back to his van.
"He's still gone until Thursday," Vin responded.
He stayed in the barn door until the van was well down the driveway. He couldn't shake the feeling that Simon was trouble. After finishing his chores, he checked Sassy again before going in to make dinner. At 8 pm he returned, checked all the water buckets and dropped some more hay.
"Guess tonight's the night, huh girl," he whispered as he ran a gentle hand over her swollen belly.
Back in the house, he grabbed a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a jacket. The phone rang just as soon as his hands were full, and he juggled to pick up the phone without dropping anything.
"Vin."
"Chris!"
"Everything okay? You sound a little distracted." Chris stood at the window of his DC hotel, staring out at the city lights.
"Yeah, no - Sassy's ready, and I was just getting some stuff so I could stay with her."
"Vin, you don't need to..."
"I know, but it's her first Chris. Besides it's Saturday night and without you here, I got nothing better to do."
Chris chuckled. "I know the feeling, cowboy. Everything else okay?"
"You know a Ben Simon, about 6'2", 250 pounds, balding, maybe 52?"
"Doesn't ring a bell. Is there a problem?" Chris' body and voice stiffened.
"Stopped by today. Said he was an old friend...something about him didn't sit right."
Chris hesitated a moment while his gaze swept over the lights again. Vin had an uncanny ability to read people. "What did you tell him?"
"Told him you were due back Thursday. I'll have JD run a check. They keeping ya busy?" Vin changed the subject as he did not want his partner to worry. He would check it out tomorrow.
"I've seen the inside of at least four windowless hotel conference rooms. Don't understand why they have conferences in big cities when they clearly have no intention of letting you out of the hotel."
"I miss ya cowboy," Vin said softly, bringing a warm glow to the green eyes almost 3000 miles away.
"Miss you too. Can't wait to get home." Chris held a picture of the sharpshooter in his mind as he answered.
"I'll be waiting," Vin said huskily.
"You'd better be," Chris growled, but spoiled it by laughing. "Night cowboy."
"Night Chris, love ya."
He picked up his things, locked the house and headed for the barn. At 1:15 a.m. Sassy lay down, groaning. Vin sat beside her talking quietly, and stroking her neck. At 2 a.m. he reached out to help pull the foal's fore legs out. The colt was a beauty - a blue roan.
"Goose," Vin said. "That's what we'll call you, Goose."
The colt bumped his head into Vin's hands as he cleared out the nostrils and rubbed a feed sack over the small body. He sat back on his heels and watched the newborn struggle to rise. He smiled as the colt made it up after the third attempt and wobbled over to his breakfast.
Vin wiped the mare down and put a blanket on her. Then he got a shovel to remove the afterbirth. He was in the far corner of the stall when he heard a noise. Before he could turn, a searing pan lanced through his lower back. He dropped the shovel and swayed. A second shot brought down the mare. "No!"
"Too late stable boy," Simons laughed from the stall door.
Three men entered the stall and grabbed Vin as he fell. They beat him soundly before dropping him to the ground.
"And that, Mr. Larabee, is that," Simon said with a smile before leaving.
The colt had been nudging his mother to no avail. He moved on trembling new legs to his human and nudged him. A shaky hand reached out, and he collapsed in a heap beside the only survivor of his family.
At 9:30 that morning, the team arrived for the Sunday game. They greeted each other upon exiting their cars and gathered up their donations to the day's festivities.
"Hey Buck," JD called from the deck, "the door is locked."
"He's probably in the barn," Ezra offered, handing his bottle of wine to Buck. "I'll go fetch him. Mr. Tanner we would..." Ezra stopped short at the sight that greeted him in the barn. "Nathan!"
The scream caused the others to drop their packages and run. Ezra knelt beside his friend, and after unwrapping him from around the foal, felt for a pulse. It was faint and very slow, but it was there. "Thank God," Ezra uttered.
There was blood everywhere, and it took a few minutes for Nathan to ascertain the origins.
"Holy mother," he uttered when he realized that not only had his teammate been badly beaten, but shot as well. "Get me a medevac chopper now. Buck - get blankets. Josiah I need my bag."
"JD - the foal," Buck called out. "The foal, JD, see what you can do." The young agent moved to the shivering foal, picked it up, and carried it over to a corner out of the way.
"Nathan?" Buck's eyes were locked on the EMT.
"It's as bad as it looks, Buck. He was shot once in the lower back, bullet is still in there. At least four broken ribs, shock, cold, blood loss..." Nathan shook his head.
+ + +
Ezra met the chopper, and helped the paramedics bring their equipment into the barn. They did a quick check of the patient, nodded approvingly at Nathan's bandaging, wrapped Vin in a blanket and after starting two IVs, put him on a stretcher.
"One of you can come," the older paramedic said softly as he took in the shocked expressions.
"I'll go," Buck said rising from the floor. "I'll call Chris once we get to the hospital. Josiah, you and JD stay here. Travis is sending out a team."
Once the chopper was airborne, Buck knelt by Vin and held his hand. He brushed the hair off his face, talking softly, murmuring reassurances he didn't believe. At the hospital, he stepped outside the ER and dialed a number he knew by heart.
Chris Larabee moved away from the crowd in the suite intent on the football game when he felt his cell vibrate. "Larabee."
"Chris..." Buck couldn't continue.
"Buck? What's wrong?" He was instantly afraid.
"It's Vin. I'm at the hospital." Again Buck hesitated.
"What happened? He's okay...Buck he's okay?" Chris hadn't realized he was yelling until he saw the room was focused on him. "Buck," he pleaded in a quieter tone.
"He was shot in the back, broken ribs, badly beaten...we found him about 9:30...not sure how long he'd been there." The big man turned to face the wall to hide his tears.
"Buck, he is alive?" Chris' voice broke on the last word.
"They're trying to stabilize him. There's a 5:20 pm flight direct from BWI to Denver. Ezra got you a seat. We will pick you up. Chris...he lay in that barn for a long time. If he was going to give up, he already would have."
"I know Buck, I know." Chris closed the phone and raised his head.
Vic Chambers, an old friend from his SEAL days was beside him. "Chris?"
"My...one of my team... shot, beaten, left to die. Need to go home." His voice was devoid of emotion, and he pulled himself into a standing position. Vic followed Chris to his room where he mechanically packed, his mind far away. He was remembering Vin's laughing blue eyes, his silent companionship, how it felt to wake up snuggled next to him. Chris dropped onto the bed, head in his hands.
"JD, come here." Josiah beckoned the young agent. In the dirt a dyslexic 'Zimou" was written in a shaky hand.
"Vin knew who did this?" JD said staring at the name.
"Looks like he wanted to make sure we did," Josiah said nodding, his eyes on the red sawdust.
A doctor approached the men in the waiting room. "Anyone here for Mr. Tanner?" Buck, Ezra and Nathan came instantly to their feet. The intensity of their gazes forced the doctor to move back a step.
"We have stabilized his vitals enough to get him to surgery. He lost an enormous amount of blood. He is very weak, but without the surgery, he will die....to be honest, he may die anyway."
Buck took a deep breath. "That boy could have given up a long time ago, but it simply isn't in his nature. You do your best, and I promise you that Vin will do his." The doctor nodded and left. Buck pulled out his cell phone and punched in a speed dial number.
"Larabee."
"Chris, they are taking him up to surgery now."
Chris looked around the crowded waiting area at the airport. "Who?"
"Don't know yet. There is a team out at the ranch with Josiah and JD."
"He told me last night that someone named Ben Simon was at the ranch looking for me. He described him as 6'2", 260 pounds, in his early 50's. It didn't mean anything to me. Does it to you?"
"No, but I'll put JD on it. We did get some partial prints, and are running them now."
"They're boarding my flight Buck...take care of him for me." Chris had to stop as his whole body was trembling.
"Don't worry pard. I've got his back until you get here."
Chris closed his eyes and turned his head toward the window on the plane. He wanted to be left alone, but the woman seated next to him kept trying to engage the handsome blonde in conversation.
"I'm sorry," he finally said tersely, "but I don't want to talk."
The woman's mouth dropped, and he had to smile as he watched her change seats. Vin was right, that Larabee charm worked every time...Vin. He shut his eyes tightly. 'Stay with me cowboy'.
At 7:20 pm Vin was still in surgery. Buck waited at gate A6 for Chris. The two men locked eyes as soon as Chris cleared the gateway, and they embraced for a brief moment.
"He's fighting Chris." Buck said as he handed him a watch from the back seat. "He'd been laying there since 3:15 this morning - 6 hours, stubborn bastard. We found him with his arms wrapped around your new colt. The vet said the body heat helped keep both of them going. Son of a bitch killed the mare."
"Vin was really excited about that foal," Chris said almost to himself as he fingered the dried blood on the watch he had given his partner on his birthday.
As they entered the OR waiting room, the three remaining team members rose and the six stood in a circle, taking courage and hope from each other. An hour and a half later JD called Buck over as his fingers continued to fly over his laptop.
"Buck, you aren't going to believe it." JD's eyes remained glued to the screen.
"Holy shit!" Buck was stunned as he looked at the information and this brought the others to their feet. "Couldn't find Simon 'cause that's the name Richard Sampson was given when he entered the witness protection program."
"Sampson!" Chris jerked away from the window and turned toward the group.
"Yeah Chris, it's him. Finger prints match." Buck watched for a reaction.
"Call Travis - have him call the Marshals. They better find him before I do." The voice was low and deadly.
Before the others could react, the doctor appeared. "Mr. Tanner held up his end of our bargain. It isn't over, but I would say the odds are now slightly in his favor. He is one hell of a fighter."
Chris stood over the pale body frozen for several minutes before reaching a trembling hand out to trace the bruised cheek. "Can't leave you alone for a minute can I?"
Vin was lost in a dark, cold painful place and he couldn't find his way out. He was panicked until he heard the voice and felt the hand on his face. He relaxed and drifted away. If Chris was here, he was safe.
+ + +
Ezra and Buck found their teammates eating Chinese in the waiting room the next afternoon.
"Seems the Marshals have lost Sampson," Buck started. "He checked in with his handler two weeks ago but they haven't heard from him since. They have surveillance at his house and are checking....Don't say it. The Judge has three ATF teams working it."
"The FBI is doing some work on the case also. While they loathe the ATF, they apparently like the Marshals even less, and I called in a few favors." Ezra's plain English spoke to how tired and worried he was. "We will find him."
Chris was worried he would never see the blue eyes again. That night Ezra turned from the bed to look at Chris. "Do you realize how much you mean to Mr. Tanner?" When he received only the Larabee glare in response, he continued. "He won't give up on you. He loves you too much, and he would do anything to keep you from hurting. Anything. So please, don't give up on him. He deserves better."
Chris lifted his head from the cot. "I know he does Ezra, but I'm so scared."
Ezra's green eyes met Chris'. "So is he."
+ + +
Chris was getting angrier by the minute; angry at Sampson, angry at the Marshals, angry at the entire federal law enforcement community. He was in the ATF conference room with Judge Travis and his counterpart from the Marshal's service. The gobbledygook he was getting from the other agency made him want to strangle someone.
"Enough!" he roared, finally at his breaking point. "This is how it is going to work. You have 24 hours to get Sampson back into federal custody. If you fail, I am calling Louis Costello and letting him know that his favorite accountant is on the loose."
"You can't do that!" the Marshal's representative squeaked.
Chris looked down on the man seated before him in disdain. "Watch me," he said in his unique low growl. "Just watch me."
+ + +
Wednesday evening Chris was brushing Vin's hair after one of the nurses helped dry wash it. As he reached to push an errant strand of hair away from the bruised face, he realized the blue eyes were open. He kept brushing, his hands shaking. "Cowboy, you with me?"
"Chris?"
"Right here. How are you doing?" His left hand moved gently to caress the cheek and he sighed wearily as Vin moved his face into the hand.
"The foal..." Vin whispered.
"He's doing well. Seems rather intent on you as a father figure, though. He won't drink from a bottle unless someone is wearing your work gloves. Dr. Harmon says he will be fine."
The two men stared at each other intently, asking and answering questions without a word. "Simon."
"Actually it's Sampson. I put him away five years ago. Seems he squealed on someone in the pen and ended up in the witness protection program." He smiled slightly as he grabbed Vin's hand. "I'm sorry cowboy. Not fair to have someone else's past sneak up on you."
+ + +
Just before Chris' 24 hour deadline was up, Judge Travis called to tell him that Sampson was back in custody. Buck went with Chris to the federal building.
Sampson smiled at the two ATF agents as they entered the interrogation room. "We'll Larabee, guess you'll be needing a new trainer for the nags you have left."
Buck grabbed Chris by the arm to keep him from diving across the table. The two shared a look and Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"My 'trainer' that you saw fit to shoot and leave for dead happens to be an ATF agent. Fact of the matter is that this particular ATF agent is the top sharpshooter in the federal law enforcement community. And despite what you think, your handlers cannot protect you on this one. You are going back to prison, a federal maximum security prison to be precise, and you will be there for 25 years to life for shooting a federal officer. And if you even think of stepping foot outside that prison before the 25 years is up, I will personally deliver you to Louis Costello."
Buck looked at the ghost white faces of Sampson and the three Marshals at the table for a moment. He put a hand on his boss' back and followed him out of the room, a satisfied smile on his face.
+ + +
Three days a later a nurse was helping Vin move slowly down the hallway when Buck arrived. He took the young man from her and walked him back to his room. The patient collapsed onto the bed, and Buck offered him a glass of water after using a damp cloth to wipe his face.
"Thanks Buck," Vin whispered as he slowly recovered his breath. "Feel like I just climbed Everest." His attempt at a grin felt short.
"Not to worry Junior, you'll be up and around causing trouble again in no time." Buck chuckled at the thought, stopping when the sharpshooter grabbed his arm.
"I need to thank ya Bucklin. In the chopper, I could hear ya talking to me. Knew you would keep me safe until Chris came. I was so afraid ...but ya kept telling me it was going to be okay. I knew ya wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. Thank you." The patient closed his eyes, worn out.
Buck couldn't speak for a moment around the lump in this throat. He brushed a stray hair off the still wet forehead and smiled. "That's what friends are for Junior, glad I was there."
"I owe you for that as well Buck, along with a lot of other things. Thank you," Chris said softly from the doorway, before walking up to the startled man and hugging him tight.
"Ahem..." Vin interrupted from the bed, blue eyes locked on the green, "I am pretty sure I am the only one you are supposed to be hugging." The voice was deadly serious but the eyes were full of light.
"I, junior...it's..." Buck was struggling to explain when Chris and Vin broke out in laughter. "Ah hell," he finished with a shrug and joined them.