Chapter 1
Vin gripped the steering wheel of his Jeep tighter and slowed acceleration. The snow had started to fall just as he hit the outskirts of Denver and had grown steadier and heavier in the half an hour since then. He had even considered turning back, but he knew that his cabin, which had replaced the Vinabago on his land, was the best place for him to go to at this moment. Unknown, and if this snow kept up, inaccessible to all but the most foolhardy.
He had left the interstate fifteen minutes before and the highway just ten minutes ago to begin his upward climb to his hideaway. All of Team 7 members had been up to Vin's cabin at some time or other for recreational as well as business purposes.
While this trip was purely because of business, Vin still looked forward to some time totally alienated from the world, depending on himself for everything. He had a few supplies in the backseat of the Jeep to get him started, but he knew before his stay here was up he would have dined on fresh fish and other game that he had caught or hunted himself. Living off the land. Vin loved it.
The Jeep's radio was tuned to a local weather station instead of the normal country or Native American music CD's he played. This storm held the potential to be a bad one. Vin knew he could make it to his cabin safely, but there would be little chance of getting out again for days. He had a man contracted to clear the road, but he could only do so after the state had cleared its part of the road, and this area was on the bottom of the priority list.
No matter. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.
He was concentrating on the road and paid little attention to the vehicle that was coming slowly up behind him. He registered, without even thinking about it, the make and model of the SUV and even a partial plate, acknowledging that the plates were fairly local. Someone else was willing to be snowed in up here for a long weekend. There were several other homes on this level of the mountain, some occupied weekly, others only during the summer months. His place was still much further up the road, far more secluded than these.
Still, it caught him by surprise when the SUV suddenly made a move to pass him, pulling up next to him, as they approached an area of road that dropped off suddenly to his right.
"Are you insane!" Vin muttered to himself as he gripped the wheel even tighter. He hazarded just a glance over at the other vehicle. Recognition turned his blood to ice. "Damn!"
The curse had barely left his lips when the SUV slammed into the side of Vin's Jeep. Vin fought to keep control of the car. His vehicle was heavier and he felt he stood a chance of avoiding being run over the side. He pushed the Jeep to his left, giving a little payback to the SUV as the Jeep connected, metal against metal. The two vehicles fought each other, one shoving the other, for several more feet. Then the SUV got lucky, slamming against the Jeep as Vin encountered an icy spot in the road. Vin felt the Jeep go into a slide, then tip as it went rolling over the edge of the road.
The SUV stopped and the driver got out to watch as the Jeep rolled down the mountainside, finally stopping right side up against a large tree.
Vin slumped in the car seat, firmly strapped in but leaning sideways against the shoulder harness. The passenger door was firmly wedged against a tree, the driver's door still attached but broken at one hinge and hanging slightly. The front of the Jeep was smashed. Steam rose from the engine as it lost its life-giving fluids. Inside the Jeep, Vin Tanner did the same.
Chapter 2
Vin opened one eye and groaned. Lord, but his head hurt! He tried to move and couldn't. He forced his one open eye to focus, taking in his surroundings, interpreting what he could see through the blurry haze of his vision. The more alert he became the more pain he felt. He could also feel cold air and yet there was something warm on his left leg, his face and arms. His left hand lay in his lap and he forced the fingers to move, to find out what the warm stuff was. When his fingers registered wetness he knew it was blood. At the same time the nerve endings in his leg awoke and Vin felt nauseating pain from his shattered limb.
Vin knew that if he didn't do something, soon, he would surely bleed to death. He remembered being rammed by the SUV, seeing Becker in the driver's seat, felt the sensation of tumbling down the mountainside trapped in his Jeep. He knew that there would be little chance of help. The road above him was undoubtedly impassable by now and it wasn't heavily traveled on a good day.
Becker was the reason he was on this road in the first place. Becker and Roberts. Vin and Ezra Standish had been on a case, a sting operation, undercover. The sting had gone very badly and Becker's older brother had been killed. The younger Becker had sworn revenge.
When Becker and Roberts had made bail the following day, Vin's immediate superior, Chris Larabee, had ordered both Vin and Ezra to disappear to one of their safe houses for awhile. So, despite storm warnings, he had headed out for his cabin and Ezra had gone off to a condo in the suburbs.
Vin tried to take stock of his injuries. His left leg was obvious, broken and bleeding for some reason. Compound fracture or just broken and cut? He felt blood running down his left arm, but he seemed to be able to move it. He couldn't open his left eye and his face felt like it was on fire. His chest and right arm hurt. He could move the arm at the shoulder and somewhat at the elbow with a great deal of concentration, but his fingers refused to cooperate and they, too, were covered in blood. His right leg seemed all right, as near as he could tell.
He felt the cold creeping over him and knew he had to do something, now, or never do a thing again. He tried to remember where the nearest house was along the road. It had to be at least two miles down. But that was the only chance he had. He would have to find a way to make it to that house. And if there was no one there? Well at least he could break in and get warm, maybe find some medical supplies until he could find a way to get further down the mountain. His mind was foggy enough that he didn't even think of the cell phone in his coat pocket.
Vin tried to release the shoulder harness, but his right hand still refused to work. He received tiny daggers of pain traveling up his arm for trying. He reached across his aching chest and used his left hand, the blood-covered fingers slipping off the latch several times before finally managing to push the release button. He shrugged free of the harness and pushed his left shoulder against the door. There was resistance and a sudden release, causing his upper body to fall headfirst out the opening and into the snow, his left leg twisting painfully as both legs remained in the vehicle. With a scream, he used his right leg to push himself free of the wreckage that was once his beloved Jeep.
He lay in the snow trying to gather his strength as more of the heavy white flakes fell upon him. He tried to sit up, but the broken ribs in his chest gave him pause once more. His limited vision began to swim and he collapsed back into the snow. His world faded to black.
The big man moved forward and knelt by the young man. He removed the heavy glove he wore and reached out, feeling for a pulse. He placed the glove back on his hand, then slid one arm behind the injured man's back and another under his legs and lifted him effortlessly. Then he carried him up the mountainside and into the woods.
Up on the road, Becker cursed. Tanner was still alive and he had help. Well he wouldn't be alive for long.
~*~*~*~
Chris Larabee knelt by his undercover agent. Ezra Standish was propped against the wall of his condo, his knees pulled up, his elbow against one knee, holding a handkerchief to the bleeding wound just inside his hairline. A small Derringer dangled from the fingers of his other hand. Chris gently extracted the gun from the man's hand.
"Ambulance is here, Ezra." Chris said softly.
"It would be greatly appreciated if you would not talk quite so loudly Mister Larabee. And I would prefer not to ride in one of those gawd-awful vehicles with the obnoxious lights and extremely loud sirens, if you don't mind." Even a crack on the head wasn't enough to dampen Ezra's notorious vocabulary.
"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to pull rank on you about that one Pard." Chris linked one arm under Ezra's elbow and helped the man to stand. When the undercover agent and con man started to sway, Chris grabbed hold tighter and walked him the few steps over to the waiting gurney.
"Any word yet on our compatriot, Mister Tanner?" the man asked as the paramedics helped him onto the gurney and strapped him down. Chris glanced over at JD Dunne, who shook his head even as he dialed Vin's cell phone once again.
"No, not yet Ezra. But you know Vin, he's probably holed up at his cabin by now and ain't nobody gonna find him there."
"I sincerely hope you are right Mister Larabee." Ezra replied. Chris motioned to the paramedics to take him away.
"I want full security around him. Starting now." Chris told the police officers that had arrived at the scene. Then he turned and moved over to where his remaining men had gathered.
"What are the road conditions?"
"Interstates are clear of snow, but icy as hell. No chance of getting anywhere on the roads leading up to his place just yet." Buck Wilmington replied. The big man looked down at his feet, then back up into Chris' stormy eyes. "But I pulled a few strings. There will be a plow and sand truck heading up that way within the hour. We can follow them up."
"Good job. Let's go." Chris cast one last glance at the body of John Roberts. If Roberts was here then Becker had gone after Vin.
Chapter 3
He wasn't here. And he hadn't been here. There was no sign of his Jeep, no sign that he had dropped off his supplies, no fire started for heat. The snowmobile he kept in the shed was still there.
"Anything?" Chris yelled out to Josiah and Buck. They had just come from around back of the cabin. Snow was still falling heavily and the only way they had made it this far was with chains on their tires and following the snowplow, which had plowed all the way to Vin's cabin, Buck riding along to give directions.
Both men shook their heads but continued looking around, forcing themselves through the almost knee deep snow.
"Chris, he's not here. The snow is getting deeper and night is coming on. We need to get off this mountain now if we're gonna make it." Nathan paused to see if his words were sinking in to their leader. "Chris?"
"I know Nathan, I know. Let's go."
Nathan called the others in and they piled into the SUV to begin the silent ride down the mountain. Chris had handed the keys to Josiah and sat in the front seat, staring out the window.
Damn it Vin, where are you?
No one knew how it happened. The light must have just been at the right spot for them to see it. But they all saw it at the same time. A reflection off of metal deep in the shadows off to their left as they were heading down.
"Josiah!" Chris said quietly.
"I saw it." The big man was already stopping the vehicle. JD was on the cell phone telling Buck to stop the snowplow.
"What do you think it is Chris?" JD asked from the back seat.
"We're gonna find out." Chris replied, opening his door and moving with determination towards the edge of the road.
It wasn't an easy trip down, Chris lead the way with Buck and Nathan following. JD and Josiah stayed on the road in case they needed help.
As Chris got closer he saw the demolished Jeep. It was obvious that the Jeep had rolled several times. The reflection was off of the chrome trim. Chris began moving faster, trying to run through the drifting snow. He was exhausted when he finally reached the Jeep, pushing himself the last few steps to look inside the open door, dreading what he would see.
Empty.
He slammed his hand against the roof and turned away slightly, cursing.
"Chris?" Buck asked as Nathan pushed past him.
"Not in there." Chris said as he moved aside. Nathan had to look for himself. The tall dark man stooped down, his hand running along the floor of the vehicle, not liking what he had seen.
"Chris? There's a lot of blood in here. Along the left side here and along the floor. Some on the seat too." Nathan said as he pulled his head out of the mangled shell.
"Damn it!" Chris flipped open his phone, yelling into it to fight the wind. "JD! We need a tow truck with a wench as soon as you can get it here. And alert Search and Rescue. I want choppers in the air as soon as this wind dies down."
"Chris, we can't do anything else here tonight." Buck tried to reason with his friend. "We need to get supplies to do a search of this kind. And the weather is just not gonna let us right now. Besides, in about ten minutes it's gonna be too dark to see a thing." Buck wasn't sure he was reaching the man.
"We need to go back to town and wait for this storm to end. It's supposed to break during the night. We'll get supplies, the proper clothes, some snowmobiles, whatever. And we will find him."
Chris looked ready to argue. Instead he angrily started the long climb up the hill. Buck looked at Nathan as Chris climbed just out of earshot.
"How bad is he hurt?"
"With the amount of blood already in that car? We'll be lucky if he's alive right now. His chances aren't good Buck. Not good at all." The two men followed the man in black up the hill.
Chapter 4
Vin was aware of being surrounded by warmth, and yet he felt chilled clear to his bones. Before he was really fully awake he felt himself shivering from the chill. He heard movement around him, felt extra weight descend on his cold body. It did little to stop his shivering.
With a concentrated effort he forced his eye to open and take in his surroundings. He held his head still, not wanting to alert whoever was in the room with him that he was awake until he knew where he was. But he had no clue as to his location from what he could see. His eye panned the room, or the fraction of it that he could see. Rough wood walls, clothing hanging on pegs, snowshoes near a door. A window next to the door gave him no information, showing him only darkness beyond. He moved his head slightly and regretted it immediately. A groan slipped out. He heard the scraping of a chair as one was pulled up beside the bed he was in.
"You awake boy?" The voice was deep and soothing, yet cultured in a way. Vin was reminded of a movie he saw once as a boy with Roscoe Lee Brown in it.
Vin tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. He felt his head lifted and a glass pressed to his lips. The movement hurt like hell, but he was so thirsty. He drank until the glass was taken away.
"Where…" he tried weakly to say. The word came out more like 'air' but apparently the man with the deep voice understood.
"You're at my cabin. You were in a car wreck." He added as Vin's mouth opened to ask the next obvious question. "Now boy, I've got some broth heating but you got to promise me that you won't move around. It took me some time to stop the bleeding and I don't want it starting up again."
"Waasss wong wit may?" Vin's voice was badly slurring as he fought to remain awake.
"Your leg is broken badly. I tried to set it but you need a doctor to do it right. I think you've got some broken ribs. You've got a broken wrist and you're cut up more places than I can count. You're badly cut especially along your left side. Your leg, arm and face mostly."
"Doctor…" The word was clearer but weak.
"As soon as we can boy. The storm out there is so bad there would be no way we'd make it even on my snowmobile."
"'kay…" Vin's voice trailed off as he fell asleep once more.
Charles sat watching his patient for a few moments, then picked up a cloth in the nearby washbasin and began to mop the young man's fevered brow. He wished he dared take the boy to town now. He desperately needed medical attention. But the young man wouldn't make it in this weather if Charles could even negotiate the way in the blowing snow.
No, they'd have to wait until the wind and snow stopped.
Charles studied the young man again. He had learned that the young man's name was Vin Tanner from the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. Vin had brown wavy hair that grew below the collar of the flannel shirt he had removed, and Charles now brushed it off the younger man's forehead. It had taken Charles five hours to stop the bleeding from the deep lacerations the young man had sustained and to clean up most of the blood covering the boy from head to toe. The whole time he had worked the young man had lain very still, not moving, an occasional moan the only indication he was still alive.
When Vin awoke an hour later, he felt much clearer headed, and in much more pain than he had felt earlier. At his first gasp the big man was by his side, cool cloth in hand.
"Now don't move around boy."
"Won't." Vin said through gritted teeth as he tried to gain control of the pain. He wasn't sure which hurt worse, his face or his leg. "Who are you?" he managed to get out as he looked the big man over. The stranger was tall and solidly built, with jet black hair beginning to show a little salt in the pepper and skin as dark as coal.
"Name's Charles Kincaid."
"How long have I been here?" The sentence came out weak but almost normal.
"About 8 hours or so."
"What time is it?"
"Around midnight. Here take some of this." Charles held a mug to Vin's lips with warm broth in it. Vin coughed a bit, but managed to get some down.
"I'm a little foggy as to what happened. Don't suppose you could fill me in?" Vin asked. Charles told the young man everything he knew from the time he found Vin lying in the snow until he had woke up moments ago, going over his injuries once more. Vin was alert enough to ask a few questions, assess his position, and try to come up with a plan in case Becker was still hanging around. But his brain was still rattled and he was drawing blanks on the last item.
Instead he tried to look around the cabin once more. In addition to the door and window he had seen before there was a kitchenette and small sitting area. The room was comfortable and spacious yet functional. The lighting was accomplished with lanterns and candles and heat came from a large fireplace located between the sleeping and kitchen areas.
"Nice place ya got here." Vin said. He was fighting to stay awake and had decided that even idle conversation might help. He felt very warm all of a sudden, which was an improvement over the chills he remembered from earlier. "You live up here permanently don't ya?"
"Yes, I do. I've found that I prefer the solitude here to the noise of the city."
"I've got to agree with you there." Vin was thinking of his own cabin, not so very different from this one.
"So what put you on that road in a snowstorm, ATF Agent Tanner?"
"How'd you know?" Vin was only mildly surprised the man knew who he was.
"I.D. in your billfold."
"On my way to my own cabin up the road." Vin was growing more and more sleepy. "Cell phone. I had a cell phone in my coat pocket."
"Not working. Too much interference from the storm. I tried it already."
"Ummm…."
"Sleep boy. Get some sleep."
Chapter 5
The storm didn't break over night as expected, but continued on through the morning. Vin slept for an hour or two at a time, awaking periodically from the pain he felt. Charles was always there when he did, giving him warm broth or tea laced with a little whiskey to help the pain. Vin and the big man talked, more of a distraction than need for conversation. Vin found out that Charles had been a powerful stockbroker in Denver until the stress became too much. He had then abandoned it all, selling his house and property in town and bought some land in the mountains, where he built the cabin. The solitude had been so healing that the man had begun to write and now had numerous suspense thrillers on the best selling lists. Vin even remembered reading one or two of the man's books and had enjoyed them.
Charles told Vin how he would go into town once a month for the weekend, staying at his daughter's house. He would spend the time playing with his two grandchildren and picking up supplies. For a week or two every summer, the grandkids would come up and spend some of their summer vacation with him. He would teach them to fish and they'd pick wildflowers and watch the different wildlife around his cabin. Vin could not help but smile, the thought sounding ideal to him, the type of life he one day hoped to live on a daily basis.
Vin divulged a little about himself, but he never liked to dwell on his past. All those years in one bad foster home after another following the death of his mother. Never knowing who his father was. They weren't memories he cared to think about, much less talk about. But his life was good now. A career that was more than a job, six men that he called family, his cabin in the mountains.
If he survived this to see all that again. He knew he was hurt badly, knew how weak he really was, and how he was getting weaker every minute. The pain in his chest alone was bad enough for him to wonder about what damage had occurred there. He knew he had a fever, which in itself, could be his downfall. He knew that Charles had done everything possible to help him, a fact that he would be forever grateful for. And he knew that as soon as the storm ended, Charles would rush him into town and the closest hospital. Gawd, he hated hospitals!
The morning drug on and Vin slept once more.
~*~*~
Chris paced back and forth in front of the office windows, his patience wearing thinner as the hours passed. The other members of his team watched him from a safe distance. They too felt the passage of time, knowing that with each minute that passed the likelihood of them finding Vin alive grew slimmer.
Nathan was already convinced that their friend and coworker was probably dead, but he refused to voice his thoughts to the others. His hope was that they would find Vin's body so they could grieve.
JD spent the time fidgeting and playing basketball with a trashcan and balls of paper.
Buck did his best to stay out of Chris' way while being in constant contact with the road service.
Josiah pretended to work on some paperwork, but was really spending his time in silent contemplation.
And Ezra, in the office against Doctor's advice, was playing with his ever close at hand deck of cards, ignoring the throbbing headache he still had.
Each and every one of them would jump when the phone would ring. Each and every one of them was surviving on no sleep, lots of coffee, and frayed nerves.
The five agents all looked up when they heard Chris curse. The snow showing through the window beyond was still coming down, but did indeed look like it had slowed.
"That's it! We're not waiting any longer. Buck call the road service and get us a plow again. JD, make sure the snowmobiles are ready. We're heading out there and we're doing it now!"
Everyone jumped into action, relieved to be doing something at last.
~*~*~
Charles studied the snow outside. It seemed to be slowing down. Looking over at the sleeping form on his bed, he decided it was time to get the snowmobile ready. The young man hadn't awakened in several hours and his breathing was getting labored. The wound in his leg was still seeping blood. It was down to a point of going now when they might have a chance of making it, or the young man dying while they waited.
He lifted his coat from its hook and pulled on his boots. Glancing one last time at Vin, he opened the door and pushed his way out through the deep snow. He had only taken a few steps when he heard a noise behind him and felt something strike the back of his head. He fell to the ground, unconscious.
Chapter 6
Vin was jolted awake by a hand grabbing the front of Charles's oversize thermal shirt he wore and dragging him upward from the warm bed. He still had not focused on what was happening to him when he was slammed up against a wall, held upright only by the hands at his collar. The air was forced from his lungs and pain raged through his body as his shattered leg was banged against the floor and his ribs were slammed against the wall. He couldn't hold back the scream of pain that escaped his lips. His one open eye struggled to focus on the form in front of him, but his vision just blurred and filled with spots.
"Come on Tanner! I want you awake when I kill you!" The man slammed Vin against the wall again.
"Becker…" Vin managed to say before he was slammed a third time against the wall. He felt an edge of the fireplace dig into his arm and side.
"That's right!" Becker yelled. Lifting Vin even higher by his shirtfront, he tossed the already injured man across the room. Vin landed on the floor and skidded until he slid into the wall. Pain threatened to engulf him and he had to struggle to remain awake. He heard the thug stomp across the room and his legs came within Vin's field of vision. He was lifted once more and slammed against the door, the door handle digging deep into his kidney. Then he was allowed to fall to the ground, crumpling in a mass of electrified nerve endings. He felt warmth running down his leg where the wound there had opened up.
Becker watched as the ATF agent lay unmoving on the floor. He drew back his booted foot and kicked Vin in the stomach. Vin had no control over the retching that occurred. Disgusted, Becker kicked Vin again and again, in the stomach, head and ribs before hauling him across the room once more. Vin had no time to get his feet beneath him, even if he could use his left leg, so he was dragged over the rough wood floor, leaving a smear of blood in his wake. Becker dropped him in front of the fireplace, then pulled a chair up next to the injured agent.
"So Tanner, you didn't die in the wreck, but I hope you realize that you will never leave this cabin alive." Becker laughed at the sight of the pain-racked man.
"Glad…I can…give…you…enter…tain…ment." Vin struggled to get the words out. His lungs were filled with fire and he was having a hard time breathing. He felt something oozing from his mouth, and judging by the taste, knew it was blood. It was the first time in his life that he truly wished for death.
Becker pulled out his gun and trained it at Vin, playing mind games with him.
"Should I do it this way? Quick and easy? Or maybe several small wounds. You know, let you bleed to death slowly." Becker laughed again. "Hell, I probably don't even need to shoot you. Sounds to me like you won't make it anyway. But shooting you would be so much more fun for me."
Becker put his gun away and stood, stepping over Vin's battered body to the fireplace. Picking up the poker, he stirred the logs and embers that still warmed the room. The end of the poker heated up. Becker laughed as he stepped back over Vin so the agent could see him. He continued laughing as he pressed the red-hot poker against Vin's abdominal muscles.
The scream died on Vin's lips as he allowed blackness to overtake him.
~*~*~
Vin had no way of knowing how long he had been out. It could have been hours, but he suspected it was only minutes. Cold water in his face did the trick of awakening him. He instantly wished for the darkness to return.
"Come on Agent Tanner. Wake up and play with me. I'm not through yet."
"Fuck you…" Vin hissed through clenched jaws.
"Now that's not very nice." Vin felt himself hoisted up once more and slammed against the fireplace. The mantle jabbed in his upper back, just below the shoulder blades, his leg bounced against the stone frame. Vin came close to losing consciousness once more, but a slap across the face knocked him awake, and started the large cut on his cheek bleeding again.
Becker continued slamming Vin against the fireplace. He was so intent on what he was doing to the ATF agent that he failed to hear his other victim behind him. Charles had regained consciousness and managed to stand from where Becker had dumped him in a corner of the sleeping area. The big man approached Becker from behind, a broom handle, the only potential weapon in sight, poised to strike the man who was torturing his patient.
Charles swung the stick, striking Becker across the shoulders, doing little more than causing the man to drop Vin again. In one swift motion Becker turned, his gun in hand. Charles tried to grab the man's gun arm, but failed, and within a second the gun discharged.
Charles seemed to be frozen in the air, then slowly crumpled to the floor, the bullet passing through his heart.
"Noooooo…." Vin cried out weakly. To him it sounded as though he had screamed the word, but in fact it was barely audible.
Becker stood looking at Charles, then bent to verify that the big man was truly dead. Then he turned back to Vin. He pulled Vin up again and pushed him against the wall.
"Okay. It's time to finish this once and for all. Game time is over." Becker said as he pulled his gun out and placed the muzzle against Vin's temple.
Vin's attention, however, was concentrated over the murderer's shoulder. Vin was certain he was hallucinating, or that the Archangel himself had come for him. As Becker pressed the gun to his head, Vin was watching the door open silently and a black shadow, that looked an awful lot like Chris Larabee, raise it's arm and point at him.
"Do it." Vin mumbled. "God, just do it."
A single gunshot filled the silence of the room.
The void that was left was filled by Chris Larabee's outcry. "Viiiinnnnnn!!!!!!!"
Conclusion
"J.D.!!! What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice bellowed across the office within seconds of the dinging of the elevator door.
"Now Buck, just let me explain…"
"I'm thinking I want an explanation too," Nathan joined in as the others looked on, alerted by Buck's yell. "He's supposed to be in bed."
"Well, I…"
"Well you what? What part of 'Keep him in bed' did you not understand?" Buck continued his tirade directed at the youngest agent.
"I turned my back for just a second and he was out the door and in the car…"
"You turned your back?"
The argument continued between the three men as the object of their dispute, apparently forgotten, slowly made his way across the office toward his desk.
To someone who had not seen the man over the past two and a half months, Vin Tanner looked horrible. To his friends he looked great, because he was alive. He had the start of an ugly scar across his left cheek that even plastic surgery would not conceal completely. The cheek was still tender from the cut and the cracked bone underneath. His exposed left leg, bent at the knee, was encased in a metal frame from ankle to thigh with screws holding the frame to his body. He was hobbling along using a pair of modified crutches to accommodate his right wrist and hand, which were sheathed in a fiberglass cast that the others had painted up. Chris was amazed at the artistic talent of his men. Buck had painted a naked lady, Ezra a small forest scene and JD a cartoon character.
Vin was obviously worn out by the trip across the office floor but would undoubtedly refuse to acknowledge the fact.
Ezra watched the man approach and pulled out the rolling chair to his desk. Josiah moved into the fray of the argument, slipping the pillow and wool throw from JD's fingers as the argument continued and carried them back to Vin's desk. Chris Larabee stood in his doorway with a cup of black coffee watching as his men fought, argued and fussed over the sharpshooter.
Vin looked his way as he reached the chair Ezra had waiting. His bright blue eyes were full of pain, but also something more. Accomplishment. Contentment. He was back where he belonged. The younger man raised his left arm and gave Chris a two-finger salute, which Chris returned. Then he allowed Ezra to take his crutches and help him sit.
"Are you certain this was such a good idea Mister Tanner?" Ezra asked as he and Josiah propped Vin's leg up on the desk, the pillow underneath. Josiah placed the throw over the leg in an attempt to keep it warm. The flannel pants Vin wore had been cut off on one leg to accommodate the frame. Vin nodded.
"Well a guy's gotta go answer the call of nature at some time!" The argument had continued going and JD was having a hard time holding his own against the two men.
"Well next time hold it till one of us gets there!" Buck's fury was beginning to abate, but he wasn't ready to let the kid off the hook just yet.
"If I hadn't of brought him here he would have driven himself. Heck, he was already inside my car turning over the engine."
"Now I want you to take him home right now…" Nathan's deep voice could still be heard.
"Hey!" Vin's voice rose above the clamor. Three pairs of eyes moved his way. "Does anyone care what I want?"
"No!" came two replies and the argument continued. Vin just shook his head. Josiah patted Vin's shoulder.
"Welcome back, Brother, welcome back," the big man said as he headed over to his own desk.
"Gawd, I've missed this." Vin chuckled, drawing in a deep breath of stale office air. He couldn't believe that he had missed this smell. While his preference was clean mountain air and the great outdoors, this was the smell that reminded him most of being part of a family, the Team 7 family.
"My dear Mister Tanner, with that comment the only conclusion I can reach is that perhaps you took a hit to the head just a bit harder than was originally thought." Ezra took his seat at the desk opposite Vin's.
Chris continued watching the scene before him from his office door, taking the time to reflect over the past two and a half months. Since the time he thought his best friend had been killed, through the long two months of hospitalization, during which Vin struggled with pain and operation after operation. One of them had been at his side every moment of the day and night. Chris himself was there the first day of physical therapy and the first time Vin was up on the crutches Chris had convinced the doctors were necessary. He knew his men, knew that Vin would try to move around without the crutches if he had to, that he would not be content to sit in a wheelchair any longer than need be.
Since his release, which was sooner than the doctors recommended, Vin had been out at Chris's ranch, with one of the others watching over him. Chris had arranged for a private duty nurse for awhile, but Vin had managed to convince her she wasn't needed after the first week.
Chris saw Vin pick up a file from the pile on his desk, using his left hand, and open it awkwardly. But Chris was certain Vin wasn't reading it. It was just a cover, something to do, while he soaked up the feeling of being there. Ezra glanced up from his desk, where he was playing with a deck of cards, to check on his friend.
Chris chuckled to himself. He had quite a group of characters working with him. And he wouldn't trade a single one.
"Gentlemen!" he finally interrupted. "I believe we all have work to do." As his men dispersed to their designated desks Chris turned back into his office. Things were definitely back to normal.
The End
