The tree was still up in the living room,
although all of the presents had been opened and carted home by the men and women
who had been at the ranch to celebrate the holiday with Chris Larabee several
days earlier. Outside it was cold, but
the sky was a brilliant blue, the air scrubbed clean by a recent snowfall that
had almost melted away now. Chris smiled. He'd never imagined he would find the coming
of a New Year so painless. Every holiday
the past two years had been an agonizing affair, but by the time he'd gotten to
Thanksgiving, he'd realized that some of that pain had faded away. It wasn't gone, and probably never would be,
but it was tolerable now, and for that the blond was grateful.
He glanced around, trying to decide if he was
ready for the upcoming blitz – the 3rd Annual Team Seven New Years' Eve
blow-out…
Three years? Had he really had his team for three years now? He shook his head. There were days when it felt much longer, and
others much shorter. And when it came to
Vin Tanner, he had to remind himself regularly that he hadn't known the younger
man his entire life.
But right now he needed to worry about the
present.
The weekend-long event would open with a potluck
– a late lunch/early dinner – on December 31st and last through New
Year's Day, and the outcome of the Rose Bowl game. There would be plenty of poker, college
football, food, and drink over the two days, and the rest of Team Seven would be
camping in his spare bedroom, the living room, and maybe even out in the barn,
if he knew Tanner.
He glanced out the window, wondering what was
taking the sniper so damn long to get back. Tanner had come out early, to see what was left to be done, and had taken
off a few of hours ago to make a liquor run. He also planned to swing by his apartment in Purgatory to pick up some extra
clothes, and his military issue extreme cold sleeping bag.
Chris had expected him to be back by now, but
there could be any number of explanations for his absence. He'd probably run into traffic – lots of
people heading up into the high country for the long weekend, but it still made
Larabee a little anxious. Over the past
three years he'd seen each of his men injured, and had been hurt himself, but
Tanner was the undeniable trouble magnet of the group.
He watched through the large picture window of
his living room as Buck drove up, JD riding shotgun with him. He went to open the front door as the two men
began unloading their "supplies" for the extended party.
"Hey, stud!" Wilmington greeted
him, grinning widely as they reached the front porch. "Where's Vin? There's plenty more stuff to bring in."
"He's on a run to restock the bar,"
Chris explained, taking several of the plastic grocery bags from the pair and heading
to the kitchen.
Buck and JD went back twice more before they
had everything inside. And they had just
finished putting it all away when Josiah and Nathan arrived, forcing them to
start the process all over again with the bags of food and snacks the two men
had brought with them.
Chris knew some of the leftovers from the
weekend bash would still be in his freezer and cabinets when they did this
again over the 4th of July weekend, but that was just fine by him.
Once they had everything situated, Chris
handed each of the men a beer, and then grabbed one for himself. They headed into the living room and had just
gotten settled when the doorbell rang. Chris
knew it had to be Ezra, since Vin had stopped ringing the bell well over a year
ago.
Pulling the door open, all he saw were two
paper grocery bags crammed full of who-knew-what, and a pair of legs, covered
by expensive wool slacks.
"It's customary for the host to invite his
guests inside, Mr. Larabee," the
smooth-talking southerner drawled, shifting impatiently from foot to foot under
the weight of the bags.
Chris shook his head, saying, "Just trying
to decide what this stuff on top
is."
"Something I'm sure your unsophisticated
palate will no doubt reject," Standish replied dryly, then stepped inside
when Larabee moved aside, heading straight to the kitchen, where he made sure
to immediately refrigerate several items from his bags.
Chris leaned against the kitchen doorframe,
watching and waiting for Standish to finish. He wasn't sure what the stuff he saw removed was, but the man usually
came up with some kind of surprise for them that turned out to be delicious,
unpronounceable, and made from things most of them would never knowingly ingest.
"Grab yourself a beer when you're done,"
Larabee told his primary undercover agent. "We're just waiting for Vin."
"Ah, I see our Mr. Tanner is running
late as usual."
Chris grinned. Vin and Ezra were usually in competition to see
which of them could arrive the latest each morning.
The two men walked back to the living room,
where someone had turned on the big screen television, although the volume had
been muted on a program Chris didn't recognize.
Larabee returned to his favorite recliner,
and Ezra settled on the empty end of the smaller of the two sofas in the room. Conversation picked up, the men chatting for
a time, but it trailed off when they noticed the worried look on Larabee's face
as he glanced out the window to check the long gravel driveway that led from
the road to the house.
"Hey, don't worry," Buck said. "The roads were getting pretty bad. He's probably just stuck in traffic."
Larabee sighed and nodded, and the conversation
picked up again until JD squeaked, "Oh my God, look!"
The men turned their attention to the
television as JD fumbled with the remote, trying to release the mute.
"C'mon, JD," Buck snapped, sliding
to the edge of his seat as he peered at the screen.
There was a "breaking news" banner
on the bottom of the screen, and a collage of worrisome images – police cars,
their lights flashing, ambulances, paramedics, people running back and forth
behind the cameraman, and a worried-looking reporter, speaking into a
mike. The breaking news banner was right
above the words "Deadly Shooting in Purgatory."
The volume came on suddenly, the reporter's
voice filling the room. "…an
officer on the scene has confirmed that there are at least two dead and several
others injured. We're standing by to
bring you more information as soon as we get it. Stephanie?"
The picture shifted, returning to the regular
news anchors back at the CBS station. Larabee
was already up and heading for the door before any of the others began to
speak.
"Whoa, Chris, call him first," Buck
said, heading his friend off at the front door. "He's probably on his way back and nowhere near Purgatory."
Chris huffed out a breath, but he turned and
headed straight to the phone in the kitchen, dialing Vin's number at his
apartment. It rang four times and the
answering machine picked up. "Hi," said Vin's voice, "I can't get t' the phone right
now, so leave a message after the beep an' I'll call y' as soon as I can."
"Vin, it's me," Larabee said. "If you're there, pick up." He waited a moment, then added, "Now,
damn it."
Buck grinned briefly and shook his head. "You're a real people person, you know
that, Chris."
Still nothing, and then the beep sounded,
letting Chris know the connection had been broken. The blond turned, determined to leave this time. But Buck stopped him a second time, his hand
on Larabee's arm.
"Try his cell," the ladies' man said,
silently praying Tanner picked up this time.
Chris' eyes narrowed, but he reached out and grabbed
the phone again, punching out the number to the sniper's cell phone, which rang
and rang and rang before it finally shifted him over to Tanner's voicemail. He hung up before the message from Vin could
begin.
"Guys!" JD called anxiously from
the living room.
Buck and Chris hurried back down the hall,
walking in as the broadcast shifted back to the crime scene.
The reporter appeared, saying, "Earlier
this afternoon a deadly shootout took place here at the Purgatory Liquor Barn."
The camera closed in on a pool of blood
on the sidewalk. "A spokesman for
the Denver Police Department has confirmed that three people have been killed. Two others were seriously wounded and have
already been taken to area hospitals."
The image shifted to footage that had been shot
earlier – a woman was being loaded into the back of an ambulance that then
pulled away, sirens wailing. The shot shifted
back to the reporter. "Several
shoppers who were in the store at the time of the robbery were injured by
flying glass when gunfire broke out inside, but their injuries are not life-threatening
and they are being treated at the scene by paramedics, or taken to local hospitals."
As the reporter spoke, the camera closed in
on a man, seated on the curb, a medic working to clean the blood of the side of
his face.
"Harold Reynolds," the reporter
continued, "police department spokesman, had no comment about who was
responsible, but an official statement should be released within the hour. This is Daniel Huang, Channel Four News, in
Purgatory. Now, back to you, Stephanie. Larry."
"We couldn't reach Vin," Buck
stated flatly.
"Let's go," Chris said, his voice
soft but intense.
The others stood, all of them worried
now. They went out, splitting into two
vehicles for the drive to Purgatorio. Chris
took his truck, Buck and JD riding with him. Josiah took Nathan and Ezra in his Suburban. They pushed the speed limits, but with the
almost all the traffic heading into the mountains, they had a clear shot back
into town, and they arrived at the scene as quickly as possible.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
~ * ~ *
The street in Purgatory looked almost exactly
like it had on the news – run down, building walls covered with graffiti, and whatever
paint hadn't been covered had gone grey with dirt and grime. Police cars were still scattered around the
Liquor Barn, some of their lights still flashing. Two ambulance trucks remained close to the
store, and paramedics crowded around the opened rear doors of both vehicles,
making it impossible to see what was going on inside.
Chris and Josiah double-parked, the six men
climbing out and heading across the street, stopping the traffic that was
crawling by while drivers tried to see what was going on. The ATF agents showed their IDs, slipping
past the first layer of uniformed officers protecting the crime scene, which included
the sidewalk in front of the store, and the entire parking lot alongside it.
They continued across the lot, but were
stopped when they neared the building by a plainclothes detective – a
broad-shouldered man in his early 40s, his short, light brown hair was shot
through with grey. He looked imposing,
and had at least three inches and twenty-five pounds on Larabee, who was
leading the way.
"Gentlemen," the detective said
matter-of-factly, "I'll need to see—"
Larabee fished his ID out again, letting the
detective take a look. "I need to
get into the scene," he said and took a step forward.
"Why?" the detective asked
suspiciously, shifting to block Chris' path and earning himself one of the
blond's icy green glares in response. "Is there an on-going ATF investigation—?"
"One of my agents may have been
involved," Chris began.
"May have been?" the detective asked,
cutting him off.
"Look, Detective—?"
"Speer. What's his name?"
Chris fought back the anger and the fear that
inclined him to just deck the man and keep walking, but he drew a deep breath
and said, "Tanner. Vin
Tanner." And he could tell from the
flash of recognition that crossed Speer's face that Vin had indeed been involved
at the scene.
The other members of Team Seven saw it, too.
"Is he all right?" Buck demanded,
locking gazes with the detective.
Chris, however, didn't hear Wilmington's question. He swallowed hard, a soft roar beginning to
fill his ears as he saw a man ease past the tangle of medics and start toward
him. Larabee's gaze was riveted on the
blood soaking the front of the man's long-sleeved T-shirt, and he felt his
knees begin to shake. Then his gaze
lifted and he saw more blood on the man's face. It was a ghost. A fucking ghost. He gasped softly, strobes of white and yellow
lights beginning to explode in front of his eyes.
"Chris?" Buck yelped, lunging to
catch his friend before he dropped to his knees. He looked around, frantic to understand what
was going on. Then he saw what had
affected Larabee so profoundly. "Jesus Christ," he breathed, the sight taking his own breath
away.
"Chris?" Vin called, frowning and breaking
into a jog as he hurried over to his teammates.
"Vin?" Nathan demanded.
"I'm fine, Nate," Vin said as he knelt
and reached out, grabbing Larabee's shoulders, and getting right up into his face. "Chris, it's all right. 'M fine. I ain't hurt. Y' hear me? I'm fine."
Larabee's eyes narrowed. The ghost was talking to him, touching
him. His hand came up and he touched the
ghost's face, then smeared the blood across his finger tips with the pad of his
thumb.
"Chris, 'm all right," Vin
said again, blue eyes locked on Larabee's green.
"What happened?" JD asked,
staring worriedly at the blood on the front of Tanner's shirt.
Vin took a deep breath and opened his
mouth to speak, but then he spotted the reporter and cameraman moving closer
and he jerked his chin in the direction of the ambulance. "Over here."
Vin and Buck guided Chris over to the truck,
Detective Speer staying behind to move the press back again.
"What happened here?" Josiah
asked when Tanner slumped against the side of the ambulance.
"Was at the Barn, pickin' up our
stuff. I paid an' was takin' it out t'
the Jeep when I saw this guy go in. Gave
me a bad vibe, so I slipped back inside t' take a look." He looked down at the ground and shook his
head. Then he lifted his chin,
pain-filled blue eyes locking on Josiah's as he said, "He didn't say a
word, J'siah, just started shootin'. Took
me too damn long t' get a shot, but I finally dropped the bastard." He looked down at the blood on his
shirt. "One of the ladies in the
store," he said softly. "I
hope she makes it. She was talkin' 'bout
her little girl…" He shuddered, too
easily remembering the large exit wound in her upper chest.
Josiah reached out and rested his hand
on Tanner's shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze. "I know you did everything you could,
Vin."
The sniper nodded, but it was clear he
was hurting, blaming himself for not being able to act quicker.
One of the uniformed officers stepped
up to join them. Sergeant Timothy Argrow
was a handsome Black man, a little taller than Buck and just as wide as
Josiah. He smiled at the agents as his
gaze swept over them. "Agent
Tanner, I just spoke to Detective Speer; he said you're free to go now. We have everything we need for now."
Vin nodded. "Any news on the injured?"
Argrow shook his head. "I'm sorry. They were taken to St. Joseph's. I'm sure you could find out…"
Tanner nodded again.
"…Detective Speer asked if you'd
stop by tomorrow to read over your statement and sign it," Argrow added.
"He'll be there," Chris said,
watching the officer. There was honest
admiration in the man's eyes.
Argrow extended his hand to Vin, who
shook it. "Agent, that was some damn
amazing shooting. The rest of those
people—"
"Two people died," Vin said
flatly. "It wasn't good
enough."
The officer nodded, understanding the
sniper's feelings. "Still, it
could've been a hell of a lot worse if you hadn't been here." He looked at the other agents and added,
"The owner and a customer were killed, two other patrons were seriously
wounded, but the rest only had minor injuries, mostly from flying glass. Agent Tanner dropped the perp, saved the four
others in the store." He looked at
Vin, Josiah still standing at his shoulder, then back at the others. "The witnesses said Agent Tanner stepped
out into the open and tried to talk the man into surrendering. He was holding a wounded woman in front of
him, using her as a shield. She'd been shot
by the store owner when he'd tried to defend himself; shot went wild when he was
hit and killed by the perp. That woman was
bleeding to death. Agent Tanner made
what had to be a one in a million shot. My partner and I saw it from outside. Then he kept pressure on her wounds until the paramedics got here."
"Christ," Buck breathed,
easily able to imagine the scene playing out as the officer described it.
"Yeah," JD added in
agreement.
"You did everything you could,
Vin," Nathan said. "I'll call
the hospital, see if I can get some news for you."
Chris nodded, letting Jackson know he should do that, and they
watched Nathan trot away, headed for Josiah's Suburban.
One of the medics moved in to stand next
to Argrow. "Agent Tanner, you sure
you don't want us to check you over?" she asked, looking worried.
Vin shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm fine," he told her.
"All right," she said,
"but take it easy, okay?"
Tanner nodded again, then looked up at
the others saying, "I need t' go home 'n' change."
"I'll go with you," Chris
said, his tone one that warned them all he'd brook no arguments. "The rest of you head back to the
ranch," he told the others, tossing his keys to Wilmington. "We'll meet you out there in an hour or
so."
Buck nodded. The color had returned to Larabee's face and
the blond seemed steady on his feet now. "You two drive careful," he told them.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
~ * ~ *
Chris drove Vin's Jeep to the sniper's
Purgatory apartment building, the two men climbing the stairs to Tanner's
fourth-floor home when they saw the elevator was – once again – out of order.
Vin opened the door and stepped inside,
listening as Chris followed him in, then closed and locked the door behind them.
Heading straight to the bathroom, Vin
pulled his blood-soaked T-shirt off and threw it into the small trash can
sitting by the counter. His jeans
followed, and he wadded them up, shoving them into the trashcan as well. Then he turned to the shower, cranked on the
water, and stepped out of his underwear, which went into his hamper. A moment later he was standing under the hot water,
his eyes closed as he let the powerful stream wash the blood off his chest and
legs.
He watched as it swirled down the
drain, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes at the same time. Vin reached out and placed his hands on the
wall of the shower stall in front of him and stood, the cascading water beating
against his chest. He dipped his head into
the stream and let the tears fall.
He knew he'd done his best, but it didn't
matter, two people weren't going home tonight…
"Vin, you okay?"
Vin sighed. "Yeah," he called.
He knew Chris would be able to hear the
truth in his voice, but he also knew that the man would respect his privacy –
for a little while, anyway.
Vin forced himself to reach for the
soap, and washed himself from head to toe. Then he rinsed off, turned off the water, and climbed out, drying his
skin. He noted that the trashcan was
empty.
He slipped into his bedroom to get dressed
again.
Chris was waiting for him in the living room
when he walked out to join the older man.
Larabee looked up, green eyes meeting blue. "Christ, Vin, I thought you were
dead."
"I know," Tanner said, dragging
his fingers through his still-drying hair. "I know. I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry."
Larabee sloughed back against the sofa
and shook his head. "Scared me
worse than I expected."
"Y' need me, don't ya." It wasn't a question, the truth too easy to
read in Chris' haunted green eyes.
Larabee nodded. "All of you… you're my family now… I
can't—"
"'M alive, Chris," Tanner said,
sitting down next to the blond. "'M
alive an' we're gonna go out t' the ranch and have us a helluva party."
Chris snorted and shook his head.
"I really am okay," Tanner
replied.
"I know," Chris said. "But when I first saw you…"
"Y' thought I's a ghost."
Chris nodded. "I was just so sure you were dead…"
"Probably looked like it… all that
blood."
Larabee took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. "Damn."
"What?" Vin asked.
Chris shook his head, knowing he couldn't put
what he was feeling into words. But
then, he didn't have to. Vin smiled at
him and ducked his head, his cheeks going a little red.
"Yeah," Tanner said quietly,
"family…"
Chris nodded.
Vin grinned slightly. "C'mon. Y' told 'em an hour. We best get
goin'; gonna be late as it is."
Chris nodded and stood. This man was his brother, there was no
denying it, and a part of his new big, crazy, bizarre family…
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
~ * ~ *
They rode in silence as they headed out
of the city and toward the ranch. Chris
finally asked, "You all right?"
Vin nodded. "Yeah… Will be, anyway."
Larabee studied the younger man's
profile for a moment, deciding that the answer was an honest one. "Even if the woman doesn't make
it?" he probed.
Tanner sighed softy. "I know I did all I could, just wish it
could've been more, but—"
"The best we can do is the best we
can do," Chris interrupted.
Tanner nodded. "Would've called y' sooner, but they—"
"I know," Larabee interrupted
again.
"Didn't mean t' scare ya, neither,"
Vin said.
The older man nodded. "I know you didn't… And that young woman knew you did everything
you could, too.
Vin forced a nod. "But her daughter—"
"Don't borrow trouble."
Vin nodded again, then jumped slightly as
his phone rang. He fished it from his
pocket and answered it. "Yeah,
Nathan, it's me."
"She's
going to make it," the man told him.
"Y' sure?" Vin asked.
"I
am," he replied. "You two on your way back?"
"Yeah, we'll be there in
thirty," Vin told him, then returned his phone to his pocket. "She's gonna make it."
Chris smiled. "Looks like we all are."
"Yeah," Vin said and
smiled. "Step on it, old man, I'm
hungry."
"Old man?" Larabee growled at
him.
The grin widened. "Y' heard me."
"Keep it up and you can walk the
rest of the way," Larabee growled, but he felt the knot of tension that
had settled in his gut fade away. They
were all okay, and ready to meet another year head on… together.
END
