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Magnificent Seven ATF/AU
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Rating: PG-13, warning: graphic violence in part two
Disclaimer: see part one for details
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Chris found himself staring at the phone, debating with his conscience.
She's a civilian. I have no right to ask. . .
Ezra was upstairs packing, with Vin lending a hand (literally) and adding smart ass comments amid the southerner's curses. Smirking faintly at the cantankerous pair's verbal sparring, he realized yet again that he would do anything for these men, this family, and it left him feeling as though he had crept out of his skin and was watching from a distance.
This wasn't the Chris Larabee who drunk himself into a stupor every night to forget the happy faces of his wife and son. This was someone who had been pulled back from the edge by six loving sets of hands, even if they never realized it. The loss of Sarah and Adam could still feel like a punch in the gut at unexpected moments, but his wish for death had slowly been forgotten in the time he had known his rowdy, but efficient, team. In a way, the bond formed had saved each of them, and he'd be damned if he'd let it be broken.
Fine. I'll give her a call. . .
He and Mary had been seeing each other off and on when they weren't butting heads over something. Well, he called it "seeing each other," the rest of the men called it "exclusively dating" as neither of the two had eyes for anyone else. They approved of the relationship, which made Chris relieved somewhat, not that he would need their approval to date whomever he chose.
As he had formulated the plan to lay low and come up with a strategy, he remembered a conversation with Mary over dinner one night when she mentioned she leased a cabin a good ways from the city, where she would take Billy often for some quality time. No one at her office knew the number, and the phone was only there for emergencies. The place was isolated, yet not too far out that they couldn't get help if needed. It was perfect.
Hopefully, she wouldn't mind letting the team use it for a few days. Also, hopefully she wouldn't remember the team's penchant for getting safehouses shot up. That was his major qualm; it's a place that two civilians go to relax and will probably continue going after this crisis was over. Did he want any sort of criminal element to possibly know of its location? Even if they weren't confronted at the cabin, if any of Rocci's organization should learn of it and Chris' connection, would Mary and Billy be safe there again?
Maybe I shouldn't call her. It's not her fight. We could get the Judge to find us a place. . .
Too long. That would take too long, and who knew what kind of connections Rocci had in the ATF. There was still the mystery of Ezra's blown cover. Plus the Judge was out of town and it would take some work to find him.
Damn damn damn. Damn Rocci. Damn his organization.
Chris hated being pinned like this, and he knew Rocci knew it. Sly old bastard was probably laughing from his damn cell. At least they still had him pinned- Not even his fancy lawyers could get him out of the numerous federal charges against him. But his men were also still acting on orders, apparently not from Rocci though, it seemed. The old arms/drugs dealer should be happy the ATF had kept him locked up in federal custody; from the sound of it, Team Seven weren't the only ones who could disappear conveniently and be replaced.
Chris sighed softly. He would have to do it. There was no way he couldn't. But how to contact her without the risk of the line being compromised? JD would know. He called up JD's cell phone and pushed the walkie-talkie button to patch into the team's Nokia system, then began rapping out orders.
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Ezra perched on the edge of the couch, resting after the descending the stairs. Amazing how such a simple exercise could wind him. His knee began throbbing mercilessly.
"You are not going off on your own!" Chris was in the kitchen vetoing Vin's plan to run over to his apartment to let the kids know he'd be gone for a bit. Ezra still hadn't worked up the nerve to go back in there. Once he was feeling better, surely his nerves would settle. Nothing to worry about, he could deal with this. It was ridiculous, a grown man worried about entering his own kitchen. Not exactly practical.
"I can't just leave, cowboy. . ." Vin's laconic Texan drawl is no doubt makng that one vein stand out on Mr. Larabee's forhead, Ezra thought with the slightest trace of a wry grin. Usually it was his job, but since he seemed incapacitated at the moment, Vin had taken up the crusade to drive Chris insane. At that, Ezra had to chuckle softly. That's what family did to you- forced you to take leave of your senses, then found you a nice old age home in your early senility.
He rubbed his knee almost absently.
The shrill ring of the phone made him jump. Inexplicably, his heart began pounding, some memory slithering through the shadows of his mind. Ghosts rose out of the dust unsettled in its wake, but Ezra forced himself to concentrate on the present. Concentrate on Chris walking out from the kitchen because the phone in there had been. . . Vin. Watch Vin with his one good hand go to lift the black phone from it's cradle. Chris was giving him a funny look, probably wondering why he was so pale. He forced himself to relax. Just an innocent phone call.
"Yes, ma'am, he's right here." The sharpshooter was saying into the receiver. He gave Ezra a questioning glance as he held out the phone. "It's yer ma," was his simple explanation, but the concern remained.
Ezra licked his dry lips and took the phone with a strained smile that was supposed to be reassuring.
"Hello, mother-" He had no chance to continue.
"Do you have any idea how embarrassed I am, Ezra Patrick Standish? To be informed by a very influential acquaintance that my dear and darling friend has been incarcerated by my own son and his merry band of miscreants!!! I was mortified! Shocked! I near fainted right there, in the lobby of the Ritz! You should be ashamed of putting such a wonderful and considerate gentleman through such turmoil! I told him your life was disgraceful, and now you've just confirmed my horrid opinion!" She paused to breathe and Ezra took his chance.
"Mother, whatever are you carrying on about? Who have I incarcerated now? I happen to arrest many criminals, mother, you'll have to specify." He truly was confused, and his bewildered tone drew the attention of his two friends, who had been giving him some privacy to deal with 'The Whirlwind.'
"Why, Vincent Rocci, of course! I made his acquaintance at a soiree on the Von Hapsburg's yacht and he was most attentive to a poor, bereft mother whose son had betrayed everything she had raised him to value by putting life and limb in danger all for some pitiful excuse of employment in the civil service!" Ezra ignored the last, sneered part, his mind reeling at the knowledge that Rocci must have recognized him the very first night.
"You know Vincent Rocci?! And you told him about me?!" He finally demanded, interrupting another outraged tirade on the evils of his chosen profession. His shocked demand had Vin and Chris instantly at his side, voicing their own questions.
"Yes, I know him! Why do you think I'm calling, for quality time?! He consoled me in my time of despair, which is still ongoing I might add, and just two weeks ago he contacted me and we had a delightfully rewarding conversation!" Maude's indignation was in full swing.
"Two weeks ago!"
"Yes. Have they turned you into a parrot over there?"
"What did you tell him, mother? How did he know me?" The only way to get information out of her when she was in a tizzy was to ignore her barbed remarks.
"I just happened to mention that my son, my own flesh and blood, had turned his back on all his schooling and everything refined to take it up with those ATF barbarians I met when you so callously cast me aside! Me, your own mother! For unmannered, backwater hicks! It was refreshing to have a sympathetic ear listen to my plight since you seem to have renounced your upbringing!" Obviously Maude's conveniently selective memory had repressed the actual visitation with Team Seven.
Ezra found his anger rising with each reproaching statement. It had been almost two weeks since the bust. A bust gone horribly wrong. Two of his friends had been injured, now they were all in danger. All because his mother decided to confide in an international arms smuggler. Now she had the temerity to verbally dress him down for doing a job he was damn good at. Yes, he was good at his job, which just made the self-doubt all the more senseless.
"Mother." His voice was cold, the tone usually reserved for belligerent criminals. He paused to make sure she was listening, the line filled with shocked silence. Chris and Vin observed the southerner with surprise. "Because of your self-absorbed, mindless sulking, young JD was shot and Vin now has a broken arm. They could have been killed, just because you chose to find a 'sympathetic ear' in an reknowned arms dealer. Because you felt the need to relate my life story to a member of an arms cartel, I just spent a week in the hospital as I had been beset upon by two thugs in my own home. This entire time I have been obsessing over every little move I made in this case- every glance, every phrase- trying to figure out what I let slip to tip him off. Now you have the gall- the unmitigated nerve- to reprove me for arresting your 'friend' who, with his associates, has marked me for death, as well as my teammates if they continue to pursue his case. And for the record, mother, those 'backwater hicks' are the only people in this fucked up world I trust with my emotions and my life!" At that, he furiously slammed the phone down and leaned forward with a groan, a horrible headache ricocheting through his head. In the tense silence of the living room, Chris was regarding him as if they'd never met and Vin cautiously sat down next to him.
"Well, one mystery solved." His voice was hoarse and strained. He began laughing, suddenly finding the entire situation hilarious, and wondered if he was becoming hysterical.
Laying a steady hand on his back, Vin drew him in for a brotherly hug- The first anyone on the team had ever given him. At first he stiffened in surprise, unused to displays of concern, but relaxed and gave the sharpshooter a grateful smile once he was released. Chris cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable atmosphere, and went into leader mode.
"Alright. Now that we know the connection, I don't think we need to be overly worried about a leak in the department. So- We concentrate on staying alive until we can get to where we're goin' and start planning.
"I gave the others an hour and a half to prepare; they should be here within fifteen minutes. Then we'll move out."
"Sounds like a plan, cowboy," Vin drawled, then got up to recheck their supplies.
Chris watched his exhausted undercover agent a minute before speaking. "You've done good, Ez. Situation couldn't've been avoided and you're still alive, so you're doin' something right."
Ezra regarded him silently, then nodded his thanks, reassured more than he would like to admit.
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By Foggynite