PART ONE

Vin tilted his head back, just for a brief moment, loving the feel of the wind and the bright sunlight on his cheeks through his open helmet. His bike had been in top gear for hours now, cruising along the open roads out of Denver. This was what Harley Davidson's were built for, not cornering and idling through city streets. He imagined he could hear his bike thanking him for the free reign having been couped up for far too long . . . as had he.

As he saw the turnoff up ahead he was sorry that the ride was coming to an end, but he knew that Buck and Chris would be there. The two of them had been undercover for weeks now and he looked forward to seeing them. They'd finally managed to get him a job on the set construction crew and only because someone had had a serious accident and had had to leave. The man was still in the hospital with severe burns to 60% of his body after a pyrotechnic disaster during filming.

He turned off the main road, enjoying the last leg of his long ride and imagined the road would never end. In his mind he saw an infinite stretch of black that he could ride down at will. Suddenly letting the carefree, reckless feeling take over and knowing there was not a soul in site, he leant back, pulled back on the handlebars and gave the throttle more turn. He let out a wild whoop of joy as he felt the front wheel lift into the air, letting it stay there while he enjoyed the moment before gently letting it back down.

It was a good half hour up the road that he noticed the sealed road coming to an end. Leaning out of a curve, he straightened up and saw a secured checkpoint ahead with two men standing sentry, looking official. Clicking down through the gears until he was idling in neutral, he rode up to the booth and placed his feet on the ground, sitting up as he left the motor idling beneath him. Pulling his helmet and sunglasses off, he dug into the inner pocket of his thick, tan leather jacket and produced his letter of employment. Handing it over to the serious looking man in uniform, he dug in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, removing his license and handing that over too.

The guard looked at the information he'd been given and then back at Vin, lingering over the dark purple bruise and cut over Vin's left eye. Vin said nothing as the man indicated that he hop off the bike. He stood with arms apart as the man ran a hand scanner over his body and then checked his backpack. Seeing nothing amiss, the guard then nodded to his partner who pulled out a radio handset and let the base know that there was a man coming in on a bike. A voice came back saying to send the rider in straight away, before they started shooting the next scene and Vin was sent on his way.

He could see the gravel trail starting and dust hanging in the air in the near distance against the cloudless blue sky, indicating that there was a car travelling ahead of him, for he hadn't passed one coming in. The trees were becoming thicker as he eased back on the throttle and clicked the bike down a gear, then two with his dusty boot, not wanting to ride into the wake of fine dust kicked up from tyres churning on gravel.

Ten minutes up the track and he was coming up to a clearing in the dense trees that had bordered the road, their thick trunks coated in layers of dust as they stretched tall, vying for the clean air up high. Vin was thankful he'd held back, knowing that even now he could taste the dust in his mouth as it still settled from the travelling car ahead. Dust like this coated you in a fine film, getting into your skin, your hair, making your teeth feel gritty and dry.

As he stopped at the final checkpoint and showed his identification again, he could make out the various trailers and tents that he had been briefed to expect on the movie location, but was surprised by the amount of people that he could already see hurrying about. Beyond watching films on TV, he'd never really given much thought to what went on behind the scenes. He had been told that most of the filming for the World War One movie had already been completed in Europe and in studio's and that these were some additional scenes being shot.

As he rode in, he took in the beehive of activity that was going on all around. People walked with purpose, talking amongst each other, moving equipment and carrying out their various jobs. He noticed a group of people in costume and guessed that they were actors, their British soldier uniforms looking authentic and well worn. They were standing close together, reading, he assumed, their scripts. He noticed an older man with a beard, standing near them, a woman next to him of around the same age. They were both deep in discussion with another man who was well dressed and looked out of place.

Vin recognised the bearded Director instantly, this wasn't the first time he had seen him in person. Since the last time he'd seen him, he'd watched him age through the countless pictures and interviews he'd seen about him in magazines and on television. As the director of some of the biggest movies ever made, his face was known in almost every household in America, not to mention the rest of the world.

Vin had idolised the man when he was younger. He was famous for his charity donations to homeless people and for starting community projects for teenagers. When he was a young teenager himself, Vin had been taken on a trip to a cinema to see one of his first movies about a young man off adventuring in the early 1900's, travelling through Africa and Egypt and finding all sorts of ways to get in trouble. It had been one of many free screenings that the famous director had provided for his movies to youth's living in missions around the country and he had been there to introduce the film himself.

After the film, Vin had been quiet. The movie had set his imagination off like nothing before it. To a kid with a life like Vin had been living, that movie had been a rare treat and had made him realise how much more there could be in the world outside of where he lived. He was still daydreaming and smiling to himself when he had literally bumped into the director as he was walking out to the bus that would take them back.

Vin had just looked up at the man that had given him so much that day and could not speak, appalled that he had bumped into him so carelessly.

"Sorry son, didn't see you there, are you OK?" the man had smiled at him kindly.

Vin had just looked at him, mouth still open as the man had laughed and been pushed along by his entourage of staff.

After that Vin had started dreaming, daring to hope that he, too, could have a life of adventure and make a difference in the world. He had joined the military as soon as he was old enough to be accepted and had worked hard until finally his expertise had been valued enough to allow him to travel much of the world, sent to places and countries so remote and far removed from anything he had ever known that he had often thought back on the young man in that movie, imagining he knew how that kid had felt, seeing cultures and people so fascinating for the first time.

After a while he had decided to head home. He knew that it was time when places had stated to look the same, losing their uniqueness. He had thought it time to head home and try and make a difference there himself. He had gotten himself off the streets, it was time to help others do the same, or at least try and make it a better place to live.

Still thinking in the past, Vin noticed the trailer he was looking for to his right as the path came to an end, the name Titus Construction easy to read on the side of the unit. It was right where Chris had described it would be.

+ + + + + + +

Chris heard the thundering noise of the bike echoing into the clearing long before he made out the form of his best friend riding in to the camp. A smile lit his eyes at the familiar site and he dropped the shovel that he had been using and hopped up out of the trench that they had starting digging only an hour earlier. He saw Buck looking at Vin as well and moved over to him.

"For a man that don't like the spotlight, that boy can sure pull an eye huh? Little bastards got every woman droolin' and he ain't even stopped yet. Gotta get myself one of those things," Buck grumbled, looking at Vin's bike and indicating the work that had practically stopped as Vin had rode in. Men gave curious glances and women openly ogled the lean stranger who rode in on his black and chrome steed.

+ + + + + + +

"Who is that?" Jonah Hariss asked his personal assistant as he scratched his beard absently, as was his habbit when he was considering something. He'd been annoyed at the noise distracting him as he was trying to discuss the scene they were about to shoot with his crew, then had become intrigued as he'd seen the modern day cowboy ride in and change the entire atmosphere in the clearing as he coasted to a stop outside of the construction area.

"No idea," Matthew Clarke said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. It was a bright day and he wished not for the first time he'd bothered to get some prescription sunglasses before he'd come out to this shoot weeks ago. He tried to pull the collar of his shirt up even higher at the back of his neck, feeling his skin start to burn fresh there from the heat of the sun. Next time they went into the closest town, he was getting sunglasses and one of those hats with the flaps that covers the back of the neck. His fair skin was an unfair target for the brutal sun.

"That's Barry's replacement on the construction crew."

Jonah turned to the man who had spoken, Michael Clements, the Assistant Director, with a raised eyebrow. Trust him to know the identity of any good looking man on the set before they even got there. It was his job to be thorough though, he supposed, turning back to the man now taking off his helmet.

+ + + + + + +

Vin could feel the scrutiny of all the eyes on him as he switched the engine off, took off his helmet and hung it over the back bar of his seat. His hair had long since come out of the band he'd tied it in and he ran his hands through the shoulder length, golden brown tresses, trying quickly to tame them, knowing it was futile. He saw Chris and Buck approaching and smiled warmly at them, taking off his jacket and slinging it behind him across the seat. His open light blue shirt welcomed the fresh air after the confinement under the thick jacket for so long.

Chris's smile widened as he approached his still seated friend and extended his arm, noticing the black eye Vin was sporting.

"You must have taken off at dawn," he said as Vin grabbed his arm back in their familiar greeting. He peered to the side of Vin's sunglasses, seeing the cut that lined his eyebrow. "Nice shiner."

"Pretty much, just glad the sun was behind me the whole way . . . and thanks, glad ya like it." Vin looked at Buck and then back to Chris who was looking healthy and tanned from the physical work they had been doing in the outdoors. "You guys look like you've been actually doing some work for a change," he said.

Buck clapped Vin on the shoulder and said, "Good to see you Junior, don't get any ideas about messin' up the plan I got goin' on here."

Vin looked quickly over his left shoulder at the people still throwing curious glances. There were as many women around as men it seemed, maybe more. Funny, there hadn't seemed to have been that many when he'd first rode in . . .

"Hell, Bucklin, how could I compete with that magnetism of yours?" he said, kicking the stand down on his bike, swinging his right leg over and sliding off the machine in one graceful move. Still noticing the glances his way he murmured, "Curious bunch, ain't they?" before turning his attention to his friends. "So how's it all going?"

"These people have been working together for nearly a year on this and been stuck out here for weeks with no-one new coming in. You're a bit of a novelty I'd say, it'll wear off," Buck said, still resenting the women checking Vin out.

Vin just smiled at him in that way that told you he could see straight through your crap and Buck scowled.

"It's been OK," Chris said. "The publicist is due on set in a few days, he was supposed to be here last week but changed his plans." He tapped Vin's arm, "C'mon, let's get you signed up, we can go over things at lunch. Buck and I got work to do, huh Buck?"

They began to walk to the trailer as Buck groaned, "Yeah Junior, you're gonna love it. I reckon if those actors over there wanna feel what its really like to live in the trenches, they outta come dig one for a bit. My back's killing me." He put his hands to his lower back and tilted backwards for emphasis.

"You're just gettin' old, Buck. I can't wait to get in there and get some exercise."

Buck looked sharply at Vin in disbelief before catching the cheeky grin and smiling himself.

"Hell if you're that excited about it, you can do my share too."

"How was the ride?" Chris asked Vin, already knowing the answer from the flushed, relaxed face of his friend but asking anyway.

"Amazing. Awesome." Vin said, still strongly feeling the freedom of the ride and not yet back in reality completely.

Chris looked at him sideways, "No one-wheeled surprises I hope?"

"Chris, please, I learnt my lesson there." Vin said, hoping he'd injected enough indignation into his tone.

"Hell Junior, ya learnt not to wear nylon underpants again, that's about all," Buck said, laughing as he remembered Vin's last accident only a few months back. As he and Chris had been driving out to Chris's ranch behind Vin's bike, they had seen him throw his front wheel in the air for what seemed like an entire minute, before he'd hit a bump in the road and fallen backwards. His jacket had protected his upper body but his jeans had slid along the ground for a fair distance down the road. The heat from the friction of the road had caused his underwear to literally graft itself in places to the skin of his backside, to which embarrassment had proven a worse injury once his friends had stopped to help him. His bike hadn't appreciated the effort either.

"Hey, Bucklin, the women go wild for these cotton boxers I got goin' on, it was a good lesson ta learn."

Buck looked at Vin sideways, dammit he'd had this place to himself, now Tanner was here and he already felt overlooked.

"So who you pickin' fights in the playground with now, Junior?"

Vin grinned, "Weren't no playground and he looks worse."

Chris and Buck both took in his grin and shook their heads. Vin was always getting into something in that rough neighbourhood he insisted on living in.

As they approached the glass sliding door, Vin felt a sweep of coldness down his spine that he couldn't explain.

"You, OK Cowboy?" Chris asked, noting Vin's hesitant steps.

"Fine," Vin said, moving to the door and seeing a slightly rotund looking, middle-aged man seated at a desk looking over some plans. The man looked up at Buck's knock.

"Come in boys." He looked Vin up and down, "You Vin Tanner then, eh?"

"That's me," Vin said, pushing his glasses on his head, moving forward and extending his hand to the man with a faint Scottish accent.

"Nice bruise there."

"Thankyou."

Bruce McAfee stood and shook the lean man's hand. He looked him over again, he wasn't that big a man, but he looked like he'd done his share of hard work and he was tanned, indicating he was used to the outdoors. He knew who these men were, they were here because he had set it up. He had first called the ATF two months ago with his story and his fears.

"Pleased tae meet you son, take a seat."

Vin declined, saying, "I been sittin' on my ass for hours, need to stretch for a bit."

Bruce shrugged and sat back down heavily, "Suit yourself. I take it that wis your bike I heard roarin' in here."

"Yup," Vin said.

Bruce looked up as if expecting more words to follow. None coming he said, "Right then, I'll let your boys here fill you in over lunch, I can show you around myself now if you like, get your stuff settled, show you how it works like."

Vin looked at Chris and Buck before shrugging, saying "Sure."

Bruce moved around his desk saying, "Not a real talkative lad are you?"

Vin smiled at him, seeing this was a man uncomfortable with silence. "Not particularly," he said.

Chris smiled at the man's frustration and told Vin they'd meet up with him in a few hours.

Grabbing his backpack and swag he followed Bruce to a huge marquee tent that had been divided up for living quarters for the construction crew. He threw his belongings into the room he would be sharing with Chris and Buck. It was more of a partitioned space really and not very private. The whole place would be packed up within another three weeks and the crew would be moving on to the final location. Vin was sure that the trailers he had seen on the way in would be luxurious compared to this, but wasn't bothered with the accommodation. He wasn't here on holiday and had slept in much, much worse places than this and for much longer periods of time.

Next he was given a quick tour of the other tents and trailers and told briefly what was in each of them. He met teams of people that all worked on the hundreds of different tasks that it took to make one scene in a movie of this caliber. Most tents they just skirted around, Bruce pointing out people and what they were doing, greeting a few people and introducing Vin to several. He wouldn't usually bother giving such a tour, but Vin needed to know where everything was.

Outside the makeup trailer Bruce stopped when a red haired woman called his name in greeting.

"Lisa me sweet, how are you pet?"

"No bad, Bruce, and who's this you got with you then? Give a lass a proper introduction why don't you?"

Bruce rolled his eyes over his cousin's forwardness. They had both been working for Hariss Productions for nearly thirteen years now and so spent much time together. Their accents still lingered softly. Scotland was one of those countries it seemed you need only be born in to contract an accent for life.

"This is Vin, he's replacing Barry on the crew."

Lisa took a step forward, her more than ample chest thrusting forward as she leant in towards the man they had all been gawking at since he'd ridden in. They had first argued over who was going to do his makeup and hair before they'd seen him pulling up to the construction trailer. Then Lisa had started preening, knowing she was well connected with that particular department through her cousin Bruce.

"Nice tae meet you, Vin, ya need anythin' a'tall, just be lettin' ol Lisa know, alright? Might have somethin' for that nasty bruise ya got there . . . "

Vin smiled and said thankyou as Bruce pulled him away from his cousin's prying fingers, saying, "You watch out for that one, laddie, she's a demon mark my word . . . "

As they walked past the prop's area Vin noticed men coming out of a tent with perfect replica's of Lee-Enfield Rifle's. Bruce caught the expression on Vin's face, looking like a child wanting an ice-cream and laughed, pulling him into the tent.

Vin's eyes lit up as he entered. There was a huge assortment of weapons on racks, all looking authentic and accurate in their design. He walked up to a stand of the same rifles the men leaving had had and picked one up. He grinned and held the gun up, looking down the sight and laughing at the crooked barrel he was looking down.

"Hope a war don't break out `round here, we'd have better luck throwin' these things at the enemy," Vin said, putting the gun down and picking up another with a bayonet fitted on the end of the long barrel. He fingered the blunt blade and then inspected the bolt action thoughtfully as a voice spoke from the doorway.

"I fear these weapons would prove useless in a modern day attack, most proved useless enough for the period in which they were actually designed."

Vin turned to the doorway in surprise and saw Jonah Hariss standing there, looking at him with a slight smile on his face. For a moment Vin was transported back to all those years ago when he had looked at the man and not been able to utter a word. He looked at the small, nerdy looking man standing next to him, looking nervous and agitated as he pushed his glasses further up his nose and fidgeted with the collar at the back of his neck.

"They look authentic enough," Vin said, nodding to the rifles he had been looking at a moment before, "Wouldn't shoot a buffalo at three feet, but authentic enough," he grinned.

Jonah laughed at the comment, liking the man's honest talk. Aside from the people he worked with closely, he was used to strangers pretty much agreeing with everything he said, particularly if they were wanting a way in to the industry. He had the feeling this man was more familiar with weaponry than he was with the movie industry, though. The way he had handled that rifle before he'd been aware of his presence seemed practiced, confident.

"If the buffalo got that close at least they had bayonet's," Jonah countered, nodding to the bayonet of Vin's rifle.

"If the buffalo got that close the men would be trampled to death." Vin said back again looking at the short blades, which he knew from history hadn't accounted for very many injuries in the overall wound tally of the first war.

Jonah laughed louder then, "That is true," he conceded. He stepped forward, "I'm Jonah Hariss," he said, extending his hand. He indicated the man next to him, "And this is Matthew Clarke, my assistant."

"Vin Taylor," Vin said, accepting the proffered hand and shaking it. "I'm honoured to meet you, I'm sure you've heard it a million times, but I have a great respect for your work and for the projects you have put together for underprivileged kids." He turned and shook the other man's hand next, noting the reluctance the man had to shaking his hand and the way he ever so subtly wiped his hand on his pants afterward.

Jonah looked at him closely, "Thankyou, I appreciate that," he said, sensing there was something deeper than just a thankyou there. Something about this man looked familiar. He thought he recognised those striking, intense blue eyes and blinked back a sense of de ja vu. He noticed the dark bruising around one eye and the cut standing out on the handsome face but refrained from commenting. "You've signed on with Bruce, then?" he asked, indicating Bruce standing to the side, playing with some old jam tins.

"He's taking over for Barry," Bruce said, turning around. He indicated the tins he'd been looking at, "They throwin' sandwiches at the German's now?" he asked his old friend, grinning.

Jonah looked at Vin, smiling, "Any ideas?" he asked him.

Vin smiled at Bruce, "The Australian's used to make grenades out of them," he said.

"Jam Bombs," Jonah added, impressed with Vin's knowledge. He turned to him, "You seem to know your war history," he said.

Vin shrugged, not about to admit he was a weapons specialist and had studied weapons of all natures used in many types of warfare. "I liked reading about it in school," he said, "its great to get a look at all this stuff. Real or not it gives you a bit of an idea what the style of fighting would have been like."

"Yes, I really wanted to illustrate the defensive nature of this war." Jonah waved an arm around the room, "All of these weapons, all useless in offensive action. When anyone tried to move forward, the defences were too strong. Massive casualties just for a few hundred meters of gained ground," he finished passionately.

"You'll be seein' how it worked in a bit, lad, when I've got you diggin' some trenches," Bruce teased.

Vin smiled, still looking at Jonah, wishing he could talk more to this man who was so passionate about his work and was recording such important history on film for generations to see. He noted the sour look on the other man's face. Vin could have sworn there was hatred there for him almost, but he'd never met him before, he was sure of it.

"I best get to it then," Vin said, putting the rifle back on the rack carefully before turning back. "It really is great to meet you."

"And you, Vin. I'm sure I'll be seeing you about. Although," he added with a smile, "hopefully I won't be hearing that bike of yours."

Vin raised an eyebrow innocently, "I just had the exhaust fixed, she's quiet as a mouse," he said, then smiled, following Bruce out of the tent.

Jonah looked thoughtfully after the young man. Something about him intrigued him. Jonah himself was a man that lived for details, his eye taking in things that few others rarely did. It was part of his nature to analyse people, break them down and see how they worked. He looked for profoundness in everyday situations. This boy was a puzzle to him. A mysterious, charismatic puzzle that had fascinated him since he'd ridden in not an hour earlier. He sensed wisdom in those expressive blue eyes. Wisdom gained through experience and a keen intelligence that contradicted the job he was there to carry out.

PART 2

An hour later Vin was stripped down to his jeans, shoveling dirt and sweating in the midday sun along with the other men, including Chris and a good-naturedly complaining Buck. The section of trench they were digging was not very big and surrounded by trees so that it was impossible to get a machine in to do the job. That is, not without ripping out some trees and having environmentalists screaming at them from all fronts. They would break for lunch soon and then move on to constructing a small cabin to be used in the final scene to be filmed there.

"Junior, pass me that water bottle," Buck said, panting dramatically and sitting on the sloping wall of the ditch.

Vin looked at Buck and the water bottle that looked to be an exact distance between them. "You're just as close, Bucklin, move that old ass of yours," he said, grinning.

Buck sighed and stretched backwards, "No respect for the old I tell ya, my backs about to give in, the sun's givin' me heatstroke . . . "

Vin sighed in mock exasperation and bent and picked up the water bottle. He unscrewed the top and took a long, exaggerated swig, looking at Buck cheekily over the rim, wiping his mouth with his arm when he was done and grinning at Buck. "Here ya go, Bucklin," he said, holding it out at him.

Buck scowled at Vin and reached for the bottle, only to have Vin flick out his wrist and douse him in water, the warm liquid splashing down his shirtless chest and glistening in the sunlight.

"Dammit Vin! After all I've done for you!" Buck stepped forward and made to take the bottle and as Vin went to hand it to him, he snatched Vin's arm, pulling him forward and off balance. As Vin started to fall, Buck swept out his legs from beneath him and flung him to the soft dirt, placing a boot on his bare chest. He poured the remainder of the water on him and then flipped him over with his boot, placing his foot onto Vin's back this time and pressing, ensuring the dark sand would stick to the water on the smaller man's chest.

"That's for being a prick to me," Buck said, so thirsty he was almost savage in his need for water and regretting his actions despite his satisfaction in paying Vin back.

Vin was busy holding his head up out of the dirt, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being pinned down to the dirty, hot ground and already feeling the sand creeping into his shorts.

"Lunch boys!" Came the shout and Buck flipped Vin back over with his boot. He held out a hand to the man looking at him warily before accepting the offer and allowing himself to be hoisted up.

"Ladies," Chris said, moving past them both and up out of the ditch.

Vin stood and looked down at his black chest, "Dammit Buck, this is gonna be itchy as hell for the rest of the day," he complained, trying to dust it off, leaving wet dirty streaks as he did.

"It'll teach ya not to mess with ol' Buck here, huh?"

Vin followed Buck up the steep wall and out, mumbling, "Fuck you, Bucklin," under his breath.

As they went to clean up they continued bickering, Buck telling Vin he was going to bury him head first in the sand when they got back, to which Vin replied Buck was too old to tip him upside down, he'd probably give himself a hernia. Buck had just stopped in his tracks and turned back, yelling, "I'll show you hernia you little bastard come here I'll fuckin' well show you a hernia!" when Bruce, talking with Jonah and several other people Vin had not been introduced to, rounded the side of a tent and stopped, having heard the shout. They stood still, watching the two filthy, sweaty men who both had amusement glittering in their eyes.

Vin laughed at the sheepishness on Buck's face, saying, "See Buck, ya shouldn't be yellin' at me like that."

Buck whirled on Vin, roaring as he ran at him, picking up the laughing man easily in his forward momentum and running the few steps to the make-shift shower that stood in an open space. Vin, laughing hard now, had no defence as Buck turned the water on full and threw him under, holding him there despite drenching half of himself in the process.

Vin gasped at the steaming hot water that came out of the pipes, heated from the day's sun. Still laughing, he fought Buck's hold, using the slipperiness of the water to turn and feign a punch at his friend's head. As Buck threw out an arm to protect himself instinctively from a blow that wouldn't have come, Vin shot out a hand, grabbing Bucks extended arm and twisting his body quickly. In an expert move, he bent forward and flipped Buck over onto his back, satisfied when he heard the loud grunt of pain as the air whooshed out of his friend who now lay in the muddy puddle of sand under the still flowing hot water.

Quickly, Vin stepped back from the arm that snaked out to try and bring him to a similar fate on the ground. He moved away from the man throwing curses at him from the ground and nodded to the men watching with bemusement.

"Gentlemen," he said, slapping his wet, filthy hand on Matthews white shirt as he passed him and walked away, still grinning.

Buck, not caring who heard, shouted out, "You got no-where to go, son, you may as well face me now or sleep with your eyes open!"

Vin laughed, hearing that and called back softly, "What was that Buck? Sounded like "Oink" ta me," as he continued on his way.

Buck looked up at the laughing, pristinely clean men before him and started laughing at the picture he must present, wallowing in the mud, filthy underneath a still flowing shower head.

"No damn respect these kids," he said, his smiling face bellying the seriousness of his words.

As they watched the large man pick himself up and grumble his way off after his friend, the small group looked at each other, not sure what to make of the scene they had just witnessed. Jonah, though, was laughing still. Their larakin behaviour was the exact thing he was trying to recreate in the scenes of the Australian troops that were a large part of his film.

+ + + + + + +

When lunch was over, Buck, Chris and Vin headed out for a quick walk to swap information and fill Vin in on what they knew. Finding a shady area near the stream they were camped close to, they sat down and rested on the ground, enjoying the fullness of their stomachs and the lazy feeling that accompanied a large meal during the day.

What Vin already knew, was that Bruce McFee had contacted the ATF claiming he suspected one of Hariss Productions' employees was responsible for firebombing two abortion clinics in as many months. He suspected that it was the company's publicist, Andy Spader, who was the culprit, due to conversations that he had overheard. He feared that the man was doing it as a publicity stunt for a movie about to be released by the production company, which addressed the controversial topic of abortion and featured scenes of anti-abortion rioting outside of clinics in America. He believed that the acts of violence were being carried out without the famous director and company's owner, Jonah, knowing.

A woman had been killed in the last attack and several more seriously injured. The ATF had taken the call very seriously and had acted swiftly. With the production crew currently based closest to Denver, the case was allocated to Team 7 from that branch, who had just wrapped up a long assignment and were free to take it on.

Chris and Buck had gone in straight away with the help of Bruce. When a man had been tragically injured only last week, they had worked to get Vin in as well, not wanting to bring in too many new men at once. Working on a film crew in any capacity was a coveted job and there was a massive list of names waiting to make their way in.

They were hoping it would not take more than the three of them to get the information they needed to determine whether it was, indeed, the publicist as Bruce suspected. Ezra had just begun researching another case they had been assigned and JD, Josiah and Nathan were all helping investigate the firebombing's, working to coordinate the efforts of the whole team. They wanted this man stopped as soon as was humanly possible, but given the high profile of the people they were dealing with, the government did not want it sensationalised any more than it already was. They wanted to find whoever was behind the crimes before another incident and wanted an answer for the strong public outcry, but needed to make sure that they could put him away.

"So have you found out anything else about this guy?" Vin said, referring to the publicist.

"Not really. No-one seems to think much of him. The general consensus is that he's a complete wanker, a real arrogant asshole. Besides that though, everyone pretty much agrees he's brilliant at his job." Chris said.

"Maybe too brilliant," Buck said.

"So what's his delay, if he was due here already?" Vin asked.

"Not sure about that either, I don't think anyone knows why he's late, he just told them he'd be a few more days making preparations." Chris said.

"For what?"

"They are organising to do one of those behind the scenes/on location shows. Think they're using their own crew to film it and getting in an interviewer from one of those entertainment shows." Buck said, smiling suddenly, "Hope it's that blonde woman that does the celebrity stories on that morning show."

"Of course, most of this info comes from Bruce who tends to exaggerate a little on most topics," Chris interrupted Buck and steered the conversation back on topic. "Until this Andy guy gets here, we just keep at it, keep digging around." Chris looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wouldn't mind chatting to the director a bit but haven't had an opportunity. I thought I'd trap him over lunch one day but he never eats with the crew," he said.

"I met him today in the prop's tent," Vin said. "You should check out all the replica guns they got in there."

Chris and Buck looked at him.

"You've been here five minutes and you spoke to him?" Buck asked. "I been tryin' ta talk to him all week!"

Vin smiled at Buck, "They say he can recognise talent when he sees it, Bucklin," he teased.

Buck smiled, "They also rumour him to be homosexual."

Vin laughed, "No he ain't, he's got a wife. It's his assistant that's gay. The assistant director guy."

Chris laughed, "He's right Buck." He looked at Vin again, "Well we haven't found a road in with Hariss yet, so if you get the opportunity, try and get some info out of him on Spader.

Vin nodded, hoping he would get an opportunity to talk to the man again.

+ + + + + + +

The next day, Vin was holding a piece of piping in place for Buck who was cutting a length off the other end, when he heard his name called and looked about.

"Vin, have you got a moment?" Jonah called out to him, standing with a small group near the trench they had completed yesterday.

Vin looked at Buck for a second before walking over to them and looking at Jonah questioningly.

"Vin, my weapon's expert is indisposed and I have a pressing question."

Vin just looked at him, not sure why the man would think his knowledge would extend so far.

"We are adding to a scene we shot earlier in the year. In that scene we had a German soldier armed with a flamethrower pinning down some English and Australian troops. We know that the range on the flamethrower is around 45 meters. If they were going to hit him with a grenade, we're wondering exactly how far a realistic throw would need to be made from."

Vin looked at the man, considering the question while he still wondered why he thought he might know.

"What army are we talking about?" he asked.

"British." Michael said, curious to see if this man had any valid input.

Matthew, too, waited for Vin's answer. He had openly scoffed when Jonah had suggested they call him over. He had already stated himself that a grenade would have to be thrown at very close range, agreeing with Michael who had said that they would be better shooting him from the trench as was originally written.

Vin thought about what he knew of grenades and the type that the British army developed in World War One. "I guess they'd be throwin' Mills Bombs then, and the average soldier could probably throw one about thirty five to forty metres," Vin said.

"Thirty five to forty metres?!" Michael said, shaking his head. "No way."

Vin shrugged, "Hey it's just my opinion, it's your show," he said softly, looking at Jonah to see if that's all he wanted before he headed back.

Jonah was looking at him thoughtfully, "Thank's, Vin, I appreciate your input."

Vin walked away, not looking back and heading straight back to Buck. He had just been tested, he could feel the eyes still on his back. Why, though, he had no idea.

+ + + + + + +

That night a scene was shot around a campfire, making the most of the warm, bright, starry night. When it was completed, they built up the fire and the chef's cooked out in the open sky. They got to meet and talk with people they never had the chance to associate with while everyone was busy doing their own thing during the day. Later in the evening Vin found himself again talking with Jonah.

"So what did you do before you joined up with Bruce, Vin?" Jonah asked.

"I was just travelling around a bit, been living in Denver for a while, doin' odd jobs," Vin said casually.

"You seem like a man who would not stay long in any one place," Jonah said, his inquisitive eyes looking right at Vin.

Chris overheard that comment from where he was sitting not far away, chatting with the stunt co-ordinator. He had been listening with fascination to some of the stories the man was telling the small group around him when he'd clearly heard the director's words and his heart had given a little lurch. Even a stranger could tell that about Vin . . . Chris had become complacent in recent months, it had become easier and easier to believe that Vin would settle in Denver again, forgetting that his original intention had been to move on when he'd first met him. He caught the fleetingly wistful expression on Vin's face in the firelight before it again became impassive.

Vin could feel Chris's gaze to his left without looking his way. "Reckon I've found myself a home there," he said back.

"If you stay on with Bruce you'll be moving around quite a bit," Jonah said.

"I just signed up for this one job `cos it was close."

Jonah looked surprised. "Bruce has got a list a mile long of men wanting in on his crew, why would you give up an opportunity like this?"

"Reckon my family's more important," Vin said.

"You got a lot of family in Denver?" Jonah asked, really wanting to know about this man's life, feeling like he was pulling teeth with the young man who was anything but forthcoming in his answers.

"Got a few brothers there, that's all the family I need," Vin said, smiling slightly.

Chris smiled too, he knew Vin was aware of him listening by that comment and turned back to the stunt coordinator. Listening to what this man was saying, the way he talked about breaking down fight scenes into choreographed sections, he thought Vin would have made a good stunt guy.

"What you said before, in the prop's tent," Jonah probed, "How is it you know about my charity work, specifically with underprivileged kids?"

Vin's eyes narrowed as he looked at him but saw no conceit there, only curiosity. He wasn't seeking praise. He thought about his answer and spoke softly.

"When I was a kid you put on a free show of one of your movies to the kids living in the youth centres in Purgatorio," he said, pausing. "I was one of those kids," he said simply.

Jonah's eyes widened slightly at that. It wasn't hard to believe that. This young man still had the wary expression about him that he had seen in so many kids' eyes during his work with them. He was thinking how to respond when Vin continued.

"I can't tell you how much that meant to me, to all the kids. Most of us had never even seen a movie before. It got us thinking outside of where we were . . . about what we could really do if we wanted to. I never thought I'd get the chance to tell you what a good thing you did, but thank you."

Jonah was speechless, it was these moments in his life that were the most profound and rewarding. This was his true goal, right here, to make a difference in people's lives, particularly young kids who were trapped within the confines of their upbringings and circumstance. He wanted to show them that there was hope, that anything was possible. There was proof of that right next to him.

"No, Vin. Thank you. For telling me, for making it all seem worthwhile, for growing up into the descent man that you so obviously are when so many others turn bad, blaming society, blaming circumstance. I believe you must have it within yourself to recognise what it takes to be a descent and good person, but I believe sometimes it helps to be shown the way a little. If I had any hand at all in guiding you on your path to becoming what you have, then I am truly proud."

Vin smiled faintly, he felt for a moment that this was the kind of talk he had always dreamed he would have with a father had he known one. He felt a kinship to this wise, easy to respect man.

Softly, he said, "Throughout our lives, our candle burns out from time to time and another human comes along to relight our wick and rekindle the flame." He smiled at the older man listening intently to his words, "I can't remember who said that . . . but I was at a sore point in life when you gave me hope, let me dare to dream of what I could be and how much there was to see in the world."

Jonah was speechless for a rare time in his life. He was deeply moved and grateful for whatever had brought this man across his path again. It was easy to lose focus of what was important in his work and this man had just rekindled the passion that had faded for him over the years, to help other people.

"One more thank you and we will move on," he smiled. "I have to say, that just now, you have renewed my own spirit. It seems I had forgotten some of the reasons why I do what I do." He looked at Vin then, about to tell him something few people knew. "I, too, was a child living on the streets, with no parents to speak of." At Vin's shocked expression he continued, "I was determined to make something of myself, my imagination my only tool it seemed . . . When I first started making money, I was determined to help others from the same path, but somewhere along the way I started to forget to give back. A part of me can never forget that life, but I had chosen to ignore it I guess. You have reminded me to never forget the reason I am where I am today."

Vin smiled at the man and they were interrupted by someone pulling out a guitar and start singing on the other side of the fire to the good-natured, collective groans of many.

Vin stood then, "Got a big day tomorrow, think I'll turn in," he said. He held the man's gaze, "I really enjoyed talking to you," he said.

"As did I, Vin. Goodnight."

Vin walked up to Chris on the tail end of a conversation about how to mount a still moving horse, listening to an account of a stunt gone wrong. He caught Chris's eye and told him he was turning in.

"Where's Buck?" Chris said quietly.

"Dunno," Vin said, then smiled. "Although I did see him talking to Bruce's cousin, Lisa, a little earlier."

Chris rolled his eyes and grinned back. Playing with the boss's relatives was always risky business.

+ + + + + + +

Early the next afternoon, the man they had been waiting for, publicist Andy Spader, arrived at the location with a carload of fresh-looking, excited people. Vin, Chris and Buck were alone on the roof of the cabin they had nearly finished building, along with half of the construction crew, when they saw the car arrive.

"That's our man," Chris said softly, seeing a short man, dressed in a full suit despite the heat of the day, exit the car, matching the photo's that they had of him.

Vin looked at the man who didn't look capable of blowing up a firecracker, but supposed he wouldn't be a man to get his hands dirty himself.

"Showtime," Buck said, looking at the man thoughtfully.

+ + + + + + +

Later in the day, the work crew had stopped whilst filming was underway a short distance from the cabin that they were still finishing off. They were sitting around in the shade and someone had brought out some ice-cold beer, to which they all grabbed one gratefully. Vin was lying back, his eyes closed peacefully, when he heard a nasally voice and the sound of footsteps approaching.

"As you can see, there has been much construction for these final scenes. Although these scenes will actually feature in the opening sequence of the film, they are the last to be shot."

Vin sat up as the voices got very close and saw Andy Spader standing before him and the rest of the men, with a small group of people all looking as if they wanted nothing more than to sit in the shade or get back to their air conditioned car.

"These men are part of the construction crew," Andy said with no small amount of derision in his voice, "Who can usually be found clanging various tools around in the background. Obviously not today, though," he muttered.

He went to move around them, steering the group on, none of the men bothering to explain why they weren't at work, under orders to make no noise during filming. One voice clearly caught up to the rude little man, though.

"If that midget comes back I'll show him how I can clang a tool around . . . "

Andy turned back, appalled and outraged at the disrespect.. and at being referred to as a midget. Hmmph.. He walked on, saying, "This way now, people," ignoring the snickers that chased him down the path.

"So, so far we know he's a tool," Buck said quietly, laughing against the tree he was leaning on.

"And a midget," Vin added, chuckling.

"We need more than that," Chris said softly.

"We'll get it," Vin vowed.

+ + + + + + +

It was several days later that Chris caught site of the much-loathed publicist heading around the side of a trailer with his satellite phone to his ear. Cautiously he made his way in that direction, stopping out of sight, but within hearing distance.

"I know it's a big ask, John," he heard the man say, "but you know I'm desperate to get this movie some attention. You've taken a look at it, between you and me, we both know it isn't going to stand on it's own. Once the critic's get a hold of it . . . Yes I realise this, but this is one cause he shouldn't have taken up. If we don't continue to highlight the issue in the press . . . No I don't think its drastic, it's not like it's the first time you've done it for me, one more time isn't going to make any difference is it? You've gone this far . . . Just one more, that's all I ask and I'll let you walk away from it . . . I know it's my responsibility . . . You owe me John, don't make me remind you that - OK good."

Chris walked away as he heard the conversation finish up. He couldn't have walked up at a more opportune time, finally there was a lead here. He immediately went to call the office to get them to find out who that call had been made to.

+ + + + + + +

It was several days later again that the news came through that another clinic had been bombed, this time killing two employee' and critically injuring another. The mood at the site was subdued, each knowing that the cases were linked to the company they worked for. The press were linking the words "Abortion" and "Hariss Productions" in every story they released about the tragedy.

Chris was on the phone to Travis in Bruce's office trailer, Buck sitting with his feet propped on the desk, listening in solemnly.

"We can't wait any longer, Chris. We have to bring this guy in at least to question him. We've got enough information to –"

"To question him, Judge, but that's about it. I understand the heat on this case, believe me I know it can't be easy for you, but if he's the wrong guy . . . "

"At least get your boys to pull in the man you identified as Spader's mystery caller . . . John . . . ?"

"Becker . . . John Becker . . . " Chris said thoughtfully. His team had come back to him that John Becker was a detective with the Denver Police Department who had known Spader since high school. He would have both the means and the knowledge to have set up the bombings, but had left town the day the phonecall had been made.

"He's out of town, we can bring him in though," Chris said. "I'd like to keep it confidential, I don't want Spader finding out. I don't want the press to know we've brought him in."

"Whatever you think best, Chris. We just need to stop these bastards before they do it again. How long did you say until you're finished up there?"

"Another week. Spader's a slippery one, but if it's him, we'll find out."

"As long as it's before he kills anyone else," the Judge said.

After he'd hung up Chris ran his hands through his hair.

"We're out of time, Buck. We gotta get this guy."

"You don't think it's him, do you." It was a statement, not a question.

"I don't know, Buck . . . " again he ran his hand through his hair as he stood up and came around to lean his frame against the desk, facing his friend. "It just seems a little tidy. Sure he seems like a complete creep, but we can't assume he's a murderer because we think he's a wanker and based on a phonecall I overheard that might or might not have been related to blowing up a building."

Buck scratched his jaw absently, thinking it over. "You gonna get the boys to bring in Becker?"

"Have to. The Judge is right on that. We need to find out what it was Spader was really asking him to do for him."

"You gonna get Ezra on it?" Buck asked with a slight smile.

"Of course." Chris smiled back.

+ + + + + + +

"Mr Becker, let me put it another way for you," Ezra Standish said, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his perfectly lint-free Armani suit as he leant against the cold, metal table in the small room where John Becker had been detained since early morning. Ezra noted that the time on his gold Rolex was two o'clock and looked back at the man who was slowly, but surely, wearing down under his interrogation.

"I don't think you want to retire from your comfortable position as a Detective just yet. It seems a waste for a man with your obvious talent for deception to have to utilise it elsewhere when you are so ingrained already in the system."

"Are you threatening to have me fired?" Becker asked angrily. Damn Spader, he was sick of his friend asking him for favours. Had always thought that one day one might come back to bite him in the ass. But he'd thought that with all of Andy's connections, he'd be safe.

"Not at all, Detective . . . " but the threat was there all the same, " I was just thinking you might be contemplating retirement after all the stress you are no doubt enduring over this issue. Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps you are a stronger man than I thought and will be able to carry on valiantly despite the slur that will no doubt forever rest against your name."

John frowned. Fuck it. It wasn't that big a deal. He was always taught not to grass on your friends, but this was one time he would have to break that code. It was better than them thinking they were involved in murdering innocent people.

"Ah fuck . . . look . . . it really wasn't that big a deal and me sitting here this long staying silent has probably made it seem worse than it is. But it's not what you're thinking, Andy's got nothing to do with the bombings and neither have I. He just asks me to give him information now and then. Stuff that he can use to send out his own press releases. He wanted information on the last bombing, stuff we hadn't released to the public yet, so that he could capitalise on it and tie it in to the movie he's releasing."

At Ezra's doubtful expression he said, "Really! He hasn't got anything to do with it, but he's happy someone is blowing up the clinics and wants to use it to promote his picture. He's the one feeding the press information and linking it all back to the movie. He's trying hard to relate the two together and get coverage for the film."

Ezra thought about this and realised that he believed the man. Non the less he sighed deeply and moved around to his chair on the other side of the table again. "OK, obviously you are very loyal to your friend, I can respect that. Lets start from the beginning again, shall we?"

John Becker groaned out loud in frustration and slumped in his chair in defeat.

+ + + + + + +

Later that night Chris got the call from Ezra in McFee's office, telling him about the interrogation and that he believed the man was innocent.

"Are you sure?" he asked him.

"As sure as I can be." Ezra was quiet for a moment. "He has alibi's, as does Spader. I know they could have contracted the job out, it would seem the most likely scenario . . . but I don't think he had anything to do with it, Chris."

Chris nodded on the other end of the line, "That's good enough for me, Ez. Thanks."

Buck and Vin were waiting patiently for Chris to fill them in.

"Well?" Buck said, patience now fled.

"Ezra doesn't think Spader or his detective friend had anything to do with it. Apparently the detective was giving him information that he was using to feed to the press, trying to get publicity for the movie out of the bombings, but nothing more.

"Dammit! We're down to what, then? A tip off from Bruce that might have been nothing but a phone conversation taken out of context!" Buck said. "Dammit!" he said again.

"We should still follow it up with Spader, ask him some question's." Vin said.

"Definitely. I think he's due out here again tomorrow, we'll speak to him then, Chris said. He looked at Vin who was looking pensive. "Vin, you OK?" he asked him.

Vin looked up, still looking thoughtful, "I'm fine." He looked out the window of the trailer then. "Something's just not right here . . . I don't know. I can't help but think someone set Spader up. It was too obvious, the nasty publicist that everyone hates . . . How much do we know about Bruce McFee?"

Chris looked at him. "He was checked out thoroughly after he first called. He was clean."

Vin nodded, still thinking. "Maybe we should look into him again. Maybe they missed something."

"We can do that," Chris said. "Is there a reason you suspect him?"

"I don't know, I just . . . there's something about this trailer.. I can't explain it."

"What, just now?" Buck asked, knowing, as did Chris, to trust Vin's instincts.

"No, since the first time I walked in."

Chris studied Vin quietly, he remembered how Vin had acted when they'd first walked up to the makeshift office.

Vin shrugged off the feeling and stood up.

"You're right. We need to break it down, get back to where it started. The first lead we had came from McFee, it seems logical to start from there. I'll get the boys on to it and spend some time with him tomorrow. I know this is frustrating, but there's got to be some answers here." He stood up then, joining Vin. "Come on, let's grab some food."

The next day Spader didn't return and Chris became frustrated trying to get information out of McFee. He didn't believe McFee had planned it, he seemed genuinely to believe that Spader was behind it. No new information had come to light that would suggest his involvement.

The production was coming to a close with filming set to finish in a few days and still they had no answers. They waited still for Spader to return, hoping talking with him would finally shed some light on the situation.

PART 3

With only two days left until they would wrap up filming, there was an air of excitement in the camp. There was only one scene left to film and it had been carefully planned and rehearsed countless times over. It was not a major scene, but was a small battle that had been carefully choreographed involving both men and horses.

The construction team had long finished and were waiting now to restore the setting to its former state once all of the people had begun to move out.

Vin was up early, talking with one of the actors, discussing the machine gun that the man was to pretend firing in the scene. The actor, Brian Worth, was telling Vin that he was about to get killed off. When Vin said that at least he'd had the whole movie before that, the man laughed, reminding Vin that this was one of the first scenes in the movie that would be seen, so he actually gets killed off right in the beginning.

"My gun jams, damn biggest gun out of everyone and mine has to jam!" he complained, laughing.

Vin looked at the weapon on the ground again. "Those guns were known to do that. There was actually a book that came with them that gave over twenty reasons why it might jam."

The man looked incredulous. "Then why the hell did they keep using them?!" he asked. "I'd take a rifle any day, better yet, a bayonet, at least that wouldn't fail on you!"

"But would you want to get that close to your enemy?" Vin asked, smiling. As an afterthought, he said, "I think they were used more on aircraft and tanks."

Brian laughed, "Could do with a tank about now."

Vin felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Jonah standing slightly behind him.

"Are you coming out to watch the last scene?" he ask Vin.

"Is that OK?" Vin asked.

"Of course, you'll love it, a military man like yourself," Jonah smiled.

Vin's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at being referred to as a military man, but he saw nothing in Jonah's eyes to indicate he knew who he was. The older man slapped him on the arm.

"Come on, you can come with me in the Jeep."

Vin smiled, "Sure, why not? I'll just let the guys know."

He found Chris and Buck just getting up and told them he was going to watch the final shoot and was driving out with Jonah. They were going to wait for Spader, who was supposed to arrive back that morning.

Chris had a strange feeling when Vin turned to walk away. "Hey Cowboy," he called, to which Vin turned back with a raised eyebrow. "Watch your back," he said.

Vin smiled, "Always do, Pard. You guys just beat the info we need out of that midget so's we can go home and wrap this thing up."

Buck laughed at that, "It would be my pleasure, might even bounce some tools off've his head for a while."

+ + + + + + +

Vin drove with Jonah out to the carefully constructed battleground, passing the cabin they had constructed earlier in the week on the way. Vin hadn't seen it since they'd finished it and was amazed to see the pile of wood they had sweated over from the ground up be transformed into an authentic looking shack. The foliage and paint that decorated the structure made it look like it had always been there and was well used. He knew it was going to be pulled down later that day but wasn't needed to help.

They pulled up amongst some trees and walked out to the array of people and equipment, all waiting for Jonah to take his command. There was still more setting up to do and preparations being made for the shoot and it was a long time later that Vin finally took a chair beside the director, to watch the filming begin. It was all so foreign to Vin that he tried desperately to not to make any noise at all as he took it all in. He had to admit it was pretty exciting.

When everything was in place and action was finally called to commence, he settled in to watch the scene unfold, over and over again. By about the ninth take of what was quite a long scene, although he didn't know that, he thought he understood what Jonah wanted out of the actors and was tempted to tell them himself . . . although he supposed that was easy to say from where he sat. He knew he'd never have the balls to get in front of the camera like that. Jonah had actually asked him if he'd wanted to play an extra in one of the scenes earlier in the week, but he'd made his excuses, knowing he wouldn't want to even if it was possible to show his face to millions of people like that, considering the undercover nature of his work.

Vin watched the scene play out yet again and just when he'd thought they'd nailed it, not being able to spot anything remotely wrong with what he'd seen, he heard the call for it to go from the top and watched the actor's steer their horses back yet again. A few of the calls to start over had been obvious to him, a plane flying overhead, a bird making a loud noise, but this time he nearly groaned outwardly.

"It is a business of patience, sometimes, my friend," Jonah said to him, noting the younger man's frustration. "I fear I should have warned you I can be a bit of a perfectionist."

Vin smiled despite his growing need to want it over with. "I can see that," he said.

+ + + + + + +

Back at the camp it was well after noon before Chris and Buck finally saw Spader turn up. The waited for him to settle himself and then approached his trailer. When they were at the door they could hear his raised voice coming from inside.

"I never asked you for anything you weren't prepared to do! Jesus Christ I'm not involved in anything like that! . . . Calm down . . . Yes, just calm down . . . I had nothing to do with it I swear to you, I was getting all the information from you. Whenever you told me anything was the first I ever heard of things . . . Jesus John I'm not a murderer! How could you think I'd go that far for a movie?! It's not even my movie! . . . No . . . Of course not . . . I'm sorry they called you in, but . . . what did you tell them? . . . " There was a long pause and then a loud shout from within. "Oh Jesus! Did you really have to tell them about that?! . . . Alright, alright I understand . . . OK I will call you tonight when I get back. Just take it easy, we didn't do anything that bad, you said they were going to let you off on that for cooperating, didn't you? . . . No? Look I'll call you tonight, just take it easy it'll all work out, we just tell the truth, we've done nothing wrong . . . No I don't know who's bloody doing it! I'll speak to you tonight . . . "

Chris and Buck looked at each other, frowning as Buck knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" came the agitated voice.

"Open the door, pinhead," Buck said, non-too pleasantly.

There was a silence and then a jiggling of the door handle. When it opened they saw the outraged face of Andrew James Spader, the second.

"How dare you- Oh!"

Buck pulled the door open and stepped up and inside, forcing the little man to back up.

"And I want coffee," he demanded, sitting down at the small dining table in the plush trailer. He whistled at the lavish furnishings. "Looks like we got us a raw deal, Chris, we shoulda gone in as publicists, working for Andy here."

Chris looked at Buck with a slight smile and took a seat also. "One sugar," he said to the small man and sat down at the table with Buck.

"Who the hell are you people? Don't you have work to do? What are you doing in here?"

"We are Government agents, working for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. I am Captain Larabee and this is Agent Wilmington. We are here to investigate a source which has suggested you may be involved in the recent Abortion Clinic Bombings."

Chris waited patiently while the man's perfectly shaven jaw worked, opening and closing in indignation. " . . . and I still want that coffee," he said, rubbing his hand through his hair.

+ + + + + + +

Vin couldn't hide his relief when the filming was finally over. He had begun to think that it would never end. When Michael had explained to him that the whole scene would probably run for no more than a minute in the final cut, he had looked at him like he was crazy. Vin was a patient man, but he didn't think he had the type of patience it would take to put together something like this. He was told that they still had a few minor things to shoot back in the studio before it was really over and the editing process began.

The beauty of being the Director was that he could just walk away when the take was over. Vin headed back to the Jeep with Jonah and they took off. After a few minutes, Jonah told him he wanted to talk to him and pulled well into a side track.

Vin was curious now and wary. They were a fair way from the camp and enough of a distance off the track that a car passing by could miss them.

"What is it, Jonah? I need to be getting back, the boys'll be waiting to pack up."

Jonah smiled at him, almost paternally. "I know why you boys are here, you and your team."

As Andy poured the coffee Chris began asking questions.

"What do you know about the bombings?"

Andy set the coffee pot back in the stand and leant on the kitchen counter, facing them with a serious expression.

"Look," he started. "I am not a well liked man." He continued over Buck's scoffing noise, "But I'm not here to be popular, I'm here to do my job and I'm fucking brilliant at it."

Chris raised an eyebrow, silently waiting for the man to make his point.

"I called in some favours with a friend to get information about the bombings, but only after the first one had already happened. I didn't mean to get him in trouble, but that's as far as it went. I saw a way to capitalise on the stories and tie them in with the movie we are releasing. There is no better publicity than free publicity, let me assure you. The press loved it and it got the movie's name into every household in America, not to mention other countries around the world who lapped it up. I don't know who really did it and I have no idea why you would assume that it could have been me."

Chris and Buck listened and thought that over.

"Do you have any reason to believe that anyone working for Hariss Productions might want to set you up? Does anyone know what you were doing promoting the film this way?" Chris asked him.

Andy frowned. "Are you saying that someone is setting me up? Did someone call you about me?" He was becoming angry again.

"Just answer the question and we might start getting somewhere," Chris said in a calming tone. "Does anyone know what you are up to? Is there anyone that might have reason to make us believe that it was you who killed those people?"

Andy fought back his simmering anger and gave it some thought.

"No. No-one knew, not unless John told anyone on his end, but I doubt that." Andy thought a moment more. "You know . . . as much as I wouldn't believe it, if anyone was going to set me up around here, it would be Jonah and Bruce McFee."

Chris and Buck both fought the urge not to look at each other. "Why do you say that?" Chris asked.

"Because I know everything there is to know about them both and they've both got some pretty big skeletons in their closets that have accumulated of late. Skeleton's that they wouldn't want anyone to see."

"And you think they'd set you up to stop you from letting them out? Wouldn't that just make you want to tell the world about them anyway?"

"Discrediting me with a setup like this would ruin me. Anything I could say after that would be considered rumour, an attempt at vengeance." He said. "Even the worst acts in a person's past can be made to further a career. Even if I told everyone, once I was set up for this, they could just twist it around to their benefit. I would have to do it before-hand if I wanted to ruin them."

"So Jonah and McFee might work together on setting you up?" Buck asked.

"They have been friends for a very long time and are very close. It's possible they talked to each other. Whether they did this or not, they have wanted me gone for some time but haven't been able to find a way to do it without risking my going public about their sordid personal lives."

Buck looked at Chris, they were both thinking the same thing. Vin was out with Hariss right at that moment.

Buck looked at Andy as he and Chris stood up. "We haven't finished with you yet. Don't leave until we say you can."

"Dammit I have to be back before-"

Chris took a step forward, forcing the small man to back up into the counter. "Don't – leave." He said in a menacingly low tone, his eyes firing into the smaller man's with silent warning.

"Alright alright! Jesus."

+ + + + + + +

Outside the trailer, another man quickly moved away, having heard every word that had been said. He grinned happily at the turn of events and moved away before the door opened.

Once outside, Chris and Buck stopped at the bottom of the step.

"Do you really think Hariss and McFee set him up?" Buck said.

"I don't know, Buck, but I want to talk to the both of them before I decide and right now, one of the two suspects we have is off with Vin somewhere. I think the first thing to do is get him back where we can see him."

"Let's go then," Buck said and they headed for Chris's car.

+ + + + + + +

Vin looked at Jonah Hariss in shock, he hadn't expected him to say that. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Jonah smiled at him. "Vin, I need to tell you something. I have a burden of conscience so great that I fear it will weigh upon me to my grave. Even in telling you, I cannot absolve my guilt."

Vin looked at him in growing horror. No. He wouldn't believe that the man was capable of killing innocent people. No.

Jonah held up a hand at Vin's expression. "I know you don't think I could harm people like that but I guess, indirectly through wanting to make a difference to people's lives, I did more harm than good. I know who you are, Vin Tanner. I know who you work for, have known that there was more to you since I first saw you ride in, saw your face light up in the prop's room over those guns. I am an extremely well connected man, it was not all that hard for me to find out about you."

Vin was frowning now. He darted a glance down the road, thinking he heard a car.

Jonah put out a hand to Vin's arm and spoke gently. "Vin, listen to me. I am not going to hurt you, I just need to tell you my side of the story before it all comes out in the open. Believe me, I would have told someone sooner if I'd known."

"What do you mean if you'd known?" Vin said, frowning now, "Surely you knew what you were doing?"

Jonah frowned back at him. "What I was doing? Not what –I- was doing. What Matthew Clarke, my assistant was doing."

Vin's frown grew deeper still. "Just tell me the whole thing," he said.

Jonah took a deep breath and let it out slowly before beginning. "Matthew started working with me on my last film, Life's Journey. It's the one that they are tying in with the bombings. I thought he was a good kid, he'd been writing to me for years, pestering anyone and everyone until I finally agreed to take him on as my assistant. He was an apt pupil, followed me around, driving me nuts, but I put it down to youthful enthusiasm. I used to mentor him a little. I guess I was flattered by his worship. I could see that, in his eyes, I could do no wrong. During filming I often let it be known that I didn't agree with abortion clinics, considered them wrong. The movie was bias towards this line of thinking and Matthew seemed ready to take whatever I said as gospel. Anyway, I know now that I did the wrong thing. The kid was easily influenced, looking for someone to tell him how to think instead of having to do it for himself. I think maybe . . . I think maybe he had problems before he started with me. I think he may have a mental condition that I only made worse in the not knowing."

Vin looked at him, piecing together what he was saying. "Are you telling me that . . . "

"I'm telling you that I believe Matthew Clarke, having taken my beliefs upon himself as his own, may have gone out and blown up those clinics."

"Would he have the means to do that?"

"When I said a mental condition, I meant that he is unstable. He does, however, still have an ingenious mind. He topped every academic class he entered in high school and graduated with honours from university."

Vin was silent a moment longer, considering everything he had just been told.

"You thought I was going to tell you that I did it?" Jonah asked Vin.

Vin looked at him, it was exactly what he'd been thinking. Before he could respond they heard a car go past. They heard it stop down the track and then reverse back and forth as it turned around on the narrow track, before heading back towards them. After a moment they saw a white four wheel drive heading towards them and as it got closer, could make out Matthew Clarke at the wheel. As he pulled up to their car and cut the engine, they heard another car roar by, this one not stopping.

+ + + + + + +

Chris and Buck pulled up to the scene of the constructed battle that had taken place only hours earlier and looked for Jonah Hariss's Jeep. They got out and asked where he was and were informed that he had left around twenty minutes ago to head back with Vin.

"We didn't pass him them on the way in, are you sure they headed back to the camp?" Chris asked.

"They definitely took the track back that way," a man said, continuing to pack up his equipment.

"Maybe they turned off?" Buck suggested, walking back to the car with Chris.

Chris didn't say anything, the bad feeling in his stomach getting worse as he started the engine and pulled out to head back down the track they had just come down.

As Matthew Clarke exited his car and got out Vin could see, even from that distance, the nervousness that seemed to emanate from the man. He seemed perpetually on edge.

"Jonah." Matthew called in greeting.

"Hello Matthew, what brings you out here?"

Matthew walked closer and studied the two of them, his hands stuck deep into the pockets of his large coat. "I had some rather good news today," he said.

"Oh? What was that?" Jonah asked, throwing a sideways glance to Vin who had subtly undone his seat belt and was slipping it from his shoulder in small movements.

"I found out that we have cops working with us."

"Is that right?" Jonah said.

"Yes, it is. There's one right next to you in fact."

"I know that, Matthew," Jonah said, surprising the boy.

"You do?" he asked.

"Yes. He is here to help us."

Matthew laughed then, an unnerving, mirthless sound. "Help us? We don't need any help, Mr Hariss. You have all the help you need with me."

"I know that, son. But Vin's just passing through. He's going to go back home now and not bother us again. Isn't that right Vin?"

"That's right," Vin said, free of his seat belt. "I'm gonna go back to my life now and let you guys get on with what you do."

Matthew looked at Vin then, his brow creased in thought. "You know I can't let you do that." He removed his hands from his pockets and produced a gun, aiming it in their direction.

"Son, there's no need for that. Vin's leaving us now, OK?" Jonah tried to settle the young man down.

Matthew laughed again, but looked a little scared. "They think it was you, Mr Hariss. Those cops, they think you did it, you and Bruce. They think you set up Andy because he has dirt on you."

Jonah frowned. "But I didn't do it, you know that, don't you Matthew," he said, asking the man to tell the truth.

"No. I did. I did it for you," Matthew obliged. "I did it so that those people would stop murdering their children. I had to kill Barry, too. He overheard me in McFee's office making plan's."

Vin shivered, remembering the cold feeling in that trailer and wondering what conversation had gone on in there when Barry had obviously confronted Matthew.

"I told him he didn't understand, he was going to tell people. I had to kill him . . . I did it because you said that every life is precious. You told me that you never knew just what a kid would grow up to become, what they might achieve or contribute.. you told me that."

"Yes I did," Jonah said in a pained voice. Barry, dear God, it hadn't been an accident . . . and he –had- said all of those things to him. They were –his- opinions, -his- beliefs. He'd known what a ready sponge that kid was and he'd fed him his opinions anyway, happy when he had soaked them up. He had been wrong to do that and for that, he was just as guilty as the boy.

"You were gonna turn me in," Matthew said. He nodded at Vin and waved his gun in his direction. "You were talking to him, telling him what I did. You knew what I did."

"No. No, Matthew I-"

"YOU DID!" Matthew suddenly screamed and Jonah flinched.

"He didn't tell me anything, Matthew. I understand what you did. It's OK. I don't want to get involved. I just want to go home now." Vin said, moving to get out of the car.

"Stay where you are!" Matthew shouted and Vin stalled, his hand on the frame. He thought he could hear a car coming down the track.

"It's OK son, just put the gun down now and we can all go and have a chat, alright?" Jonah said in a calm voice.

"They think –you- did it." Matthew said again in a determined voice, trying to emphasise his point.

"But I didn't, Matthew, you did."

"For you."

"Maybe, but I never wanted you to do anything like that. I was wrong to press my opinions on you. I should have seen . . . "

"I did it for YOU!"

Vin jumped at the sound of the gun firing, felt Jonah jerk in his direction and realised the man had been shot. He looked up to the kid that looked more frightened than anything else and met his eye for a moment as he saw the kid coming to terms with what he had done.

"Put the gun down now, Matthew. Let's just get him some help, OK?"

Vin saw the mind working behind the darting eyes, seemed to sense the second he stalled, stuck on who knew what cog before his eyes widened slightly and he shot at them again, once.. twice, three times. Vin felt the body in front of him jerk, unable to protect the man who was fully exposed to the kids attack from where he sat and turned to dive for cover out the open door of the Jeep on his side. He felt a bullet rip into the back of his shoulder as he dove and landed on the hard, sandy earth with a grunt of pain. He could clearly hear a car approaching now and leant up against the rear tyre, looking down and seeing the bullet had gone straight through.

+ + + + + + +

"Did you hear that?" Buck said, hearing a gunshot over the sound of the motor as they bounced their way back down the track.

Chris waited, not positive he'd heard a gunshot, then heard the distinct crack of three more shots.

"There!" Bucked said excitedly, pointing out the left side of the car. "I saw something white in there, maybe a car."

"There's a track going in that way up ahead there." Chris fought down his panic and steered the car to the track leading deeper into the trees.

+ + + + + + +

"He'll bleed to death soon," Matthew taunted Vin, trying to get him to come out. "So will you."

"Hell, he's dead already, ya shot him up good kid," Vin called back, pressing a hand to his bleeding shoulder and grimacing with the pain. Blood seeped through his fingers at a rapid rate.

Matthew bit back the tears that threatened to fall all of a sudden. He heard the car approaching then and panicked. He was the one with the gun, what the hell was he afraid of? He stepped closer to the car, preparing to round the side and find Vin Tanner. He crouched low and saw part of a leg sticking out the side of the back tyre. Ignoring the car pulling in, he waited a second and saw the leg move a fraction, took aim and fired again.

Vin couldn't help the scream of pain as another bullet found its home, this time hammering into his shin and splintering apart flesh and bone as it embedded itself deep into the muscle at the back of his leg. He tried to tuck himself in behind the wheel, the thought to make himself smaller his only concern at that moment.

+ + + + + + +

Chris and Buck pulled up to the sight of Matthew Clarke, crouched on the ground, taking aim under Jonah's convertible Jeep. They saw Jonah himself, slumped over the seat, blood covering his light cotton shirt. That meant the kid was aiming at . . .

Chris leapt from the car, not bothering to turn it off and ran straight at the kid who was aiming his weapon along the ground. The moment he fired, Matthew Clarke was bowled over from behind, sent sprawling to the ground, tackled by Chris Larabee who had heard the scream of pain from gun's victim.

Buck was right behind Chris, quickly snatching the kids gun and pinning him to the ground forcefully. He then turned the gun on him, noting there was no protest in the slightest, yet putting still more weight on the chest beneath him to stop him escaping. He nodded to the car and said, "I've got him Chris."

Chris shot up off the ground and ran to the car. "Vin?" he called.

"Check Jonah." Vin gasped, hearing Chris's call through the blinding pain.

Chris heard the agony in the voice but was initially relieved to hear Vin speak. He quickly felt Jonah's neck, not finding a pulse and realised that one of the bullets that had found him had entered into the right side of his neck. He quickly ran to the other side of the car, feeling his breath catch at finding Vin resting up against the wheel, breathing hard but not attempting to stop the flow of blood from his wounds.

"Jesus Christ!" Chris kneeled next to him, removing his jacket.

"Jonah?" Vin asked as Chris peeled back the faded denim around the wound in Vin's leg, making a small noise of despair as he saw the shards of shattered bone glistening through the blood.

"Dead, Vin," Chris said, moving on to the shoulder wound and seeing that the bullet had passed straight through.

"Straight through," Vin said, moaning suddenly, clenching his jaw against a wave of pain and resting his head back against the wheel arch as he closed his eyes.

"I've got to call for help," Chris said, removing the shirt over his t-shirt and tying both sleeves around the outsides of the wound in Vin's leg, leaving it open but hoping to stop the bleeding. He took in Vin's closed eyes, the pain evident on his pale face.

"Go," Vin said, not opening his eyes. "There's a sat phone . . . in the car . . . Jonah's."

Chris hopped up and looked in the car, finding the bulky phone in the console and pulling out the antenna. He dialled the emergency services first and gave their location, the Satellite phone giving an exact GPS co-ordinate of where they were situated. He was informed that a helicopter was on its way, the nearest hospital being a fifteen-minute flight away and he moved back to the ground, calling the local authorities and then his team back in Denver.

Ezra answered the phone and heard the clipped tone of Chris's voice as he quickly told him the situation.

After listening to a brief rundown, Ezra said, "If Mr Jackson were here, I'd put him on to offer advice, but unfortunately he is out."

"Damn," Chris said, he'd been hoping that Nathan was there.

"I'll call you when we get to the hospital, Ez," Chris said and hung up. He turned his full attention back to Vin, laying him down and resting his head on his lap, using his jacket to put pressure against the badly bleeding shoulder wound.

Vin groaned as he felt the pressure return to his shoulder and opened his eyes.

"Dammit, that fuckin' hurts, Larabee . . . tryin' ta, kill me..?" he said, his eyes showing a glimmer of humour through his pain.

"Yep, I am. So just lie still and let me watch you bleed to death, OK?" Chris said, concerned by the blood soaking into his jacket, Vin's shattered leg still in his sight.

"I'll be OK, Chris," Vin said, looking at the worry on his best friends face. "Been shot worse," he said reassuringly.

Chris looked at Vin and smiled then, he couldn't help it. Vin was comforting him? How did that work? "I know you have, Pard, so just relax now." Chris knew he'd been shot worse, but a fifteen-minute ride to the hospital was a long way and the chopper wasn't here yet.

"Chris? How's he doin'?" Buck asked, having dragged the kid to Chris's car and chained him to the bumper with a length of chain and padlock from Chris's boot. He came around the car and saw Vin on the ground, instantly dropping to his other side. He took in the horrific wound to Vin's leg and swore.

"Fuck'n little prick got in a few good shot's huh, Junior?" He tried not to focus on Vin's leg and grabbed Vin's other hand instead. "You had to go and do it, didn't ya? Had to keep the tally goin', couldn't last one more day without getting your sorry ass shot up, huh?"

Vin smiled, went to say, "fuck you, Bucklin," but tensed with another crashing onslaught of pain that rendered him speechless for the moment and had him giving a low moan of pain as he breathed through the agony.

After a moment Vin opened his eyes and looked at them. "Matthew did it. He blew up those clinics. He's got a problem . . . " he said, his voice trailing off as he fought the terrible agony in his shoulder and leg. He began to forget where one pain started and the next began, it seemed to meet in the middle and shoot out from there, into every cell in his body.

"Shh, Vin. We figured as much," Chris said.

Vin forced his eyes open, "he said he heard you say it was Jonah and Bruce."

"We did, but when we got here it was kind of obvious there was more to it. Just lay quiet now, you can fill us in later, OK? You need all the strength you can get, it's still a long way to the hospital," Chris told him.

Vin tried to relax his body. The pain remained as powerful as when he'd first hit the ground and every breath was a concentrated effort to focus on something other than the stabbing fire in his wounds. His leg was screaming at him, the wound feeling raw and exposed, every nerve severed by the sharp bone and cold metal of the bullet. He felt cold, too and felt his body tremor ever so slightly.

Buck removed his own jacket and placed it over Vin, having seen the first shiver move through his friend's frame.

"Guess we.. sorted that one then . . . case, closed." Vin said, a smile playing on his lips. Suddenly he clenched Chris's hand and groaned, with less force this time as his leg stabbed with pain. He imagined he could feel the light breeze touching it, making the raw nerves scream out in protest. He tried to relax, closing his eyes, his body relaxing into the earth as his blood continued to flow from him.

"Vin?" Chris said.

"Just.. tired.. Chris. Be OK." With that he passed out, his hand relaxing inside Chris's own.

"I know you will, Pard," Chris said, brushing a bloody strand of hair back from Vin's face and finally hearing the blades of the helicopter as they approached.

"I"ll see you both there once I get this mess sorted," Buck said.

"You sure?" Chris asked, reluctant to leave Buck with the responsibility of the cleanup, but knowing he couldn't leave Vin.

Buck smiled, "Of course Chris, you don't have to ask me that."

Chris smiled back, then said seriously, "Thank you Buck, I appreciate that."

The helicopter was unable to land through the trees that surrounded them and was forced to drop down into the clearing where the movie had last been filmed. The medical staff were raced by car to the waiting agents and before Chris and Buck could blink, Vin had been strapped in to the helicopter and Chris was climbing in after him, telling Buck he'd call him when he got there.

Vin remained unconscious for the rest of the flight, not waking when they took him from the helicopter or in to surgery to remove the bullet from his leg and patch up the hole left by the first bullet that hit him in the shoulder.

By the time a frustrated Chris Larabee got any news about his friend lying in surgery, Buck had already joined him at the hospital, having driven out after taking care of Jonah and the Clarke kid.

Finally a doctor told them that they could go in to see him, he was being moved to a room.

"Is everything OK?" Chris asked, detaining the nurse who would have walked off.

"He came through fine," she told them. "His right shin was shattered pretty badly, it'll be a long while before that fully heals. He'll need to take it easy for a long while."

"Thankyou," Chris said and headed for Vin's room.

A few hours later Vin opened his eyes, only for a brief moment, but long enough to see Chris Larabee's profile above his bed.

Chris saw the brief awareness in Vin's eyes and squeezed his hand. "Scared the hell outta me again, Pard. I aint losin' you that way. Told you to watch your damn back." He brushed the hair back off Vin's face where it had come loose of its tie. Chris thought he heard him mumble "sorry" , before his eyes closed again and he slipped into a peaceful slumber.

Vin gave in to the darkness, knowing that if Chris was there, than everything was ok.

Six Months Later

Vin had just finished typing in a report to his stubborn computer when a courier stepped off the elevator looking for him. He looked up and signed for the package put on his desk and studied it briefly before opening it. Inside he found a videotape with a letter attached. It was from Michael, Jonah's Assistant Director.

Hi Vin, just wanted to pass this on to you. The movie is about to be released and I know Jonah would have wanted you to see it first. I also wanted to tell you that Jonah's estate has finally been settled. I tell you this because before he died, he requested a change in his will that left half of his monetary assets to homeless centres and orphanages around America. This he did in your name, he said to honour the gift that you returned to him. You will be contacted regarding this by the appropriate legal staff. Hope this letter finds you well and you enjoy what we have tried to release in Jonah's honour, finishing the dream that he started with this film. Michael

Vin smiled in wonderment as he looked down at the tape. "Well done, Jonah Hariss" he thought silently.

He got up from his desk then, tape in hand as he walked with a still noticeable limp, to the meeting room.

At the curious glances of his teammates, he smiled. Chris had come out and was standing in his doorway, also wondering at the contents of the package.

Vin waited a moment longer, then called over his shoulder. "Well don't you boys wanna be the first people to see a new movie with the best darned trenches you ever seen dug?"

Buck whooped and followed Vin into the room, the rest of the team not far behind.

"Junior, you know I have to take credit for those trenches. I did most of the work there . . . "

"Right Buck, in between complaining and resting on your ass," Chris said, taking a seat.

"Not to mention playin' in the mud," Vin said, laughing with the others who had been told the story many times since they had all returned.

"Damn you, Tanner. I still owe ya for that one," Buck growled, before shushing the room as the screen turned black and they saw the opening credit start over a landscape shot of a war-ravaged battleground.

To the thousands who gave their lives so valiantly in the trenches,
To the modern day soldiers who fight every day to protect human life,
This film is dedicated to you all.

The End