Ezra Standish crossed the tiny lobby of the ancient building which seemed so out of place situated among the newer and much more fashionable structures of Four Corners, stopping at the small newsstand in the corner. He knew he should hurry. Larabee would be pitching a bitch but since he was already running late, he could see no harm in taking the time to pick up a copy of the Wall Street Journal. Besides, was it his fault the parking garage elevator was out of order again?

Catching a movement from the corner of his eye, the undercover operative saw Inez Recillos attempting to unobtrusively gain his attention. As he moved in that direction, he was rather surprised to find the owner of the three story monstrosity which housed the offices of Larabee's team, had already slipped back inside the saloon she operated on the first floor. Although the bar didn't officially open until lunch time, the beautiful woman had taken a liking to the seven men who rented the entire second floor, giving them open access to her establishment and always leaving fresh coffee brewing and donuts on the counter for their morning nourishment.

She was standing by the bar and the con man followed her worried gaze, his own brow furrowing as he made out the slender form seated in the far corner of the dimly lit restaurant. Inez shrugged, giving him a slight shake of her head.

Tanner had been sitting there when she'd entered this morning. He'd said nothing, hadn't even seemed to notice her presence, his blue eyes remaining focused instead on the open bottle of whiskey in front of him, or the shot glass his long fingers were absently turning around and around in circles.

Ezra pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed the office two floors up, happy to hear the sound of JD's voice, rather than Larabee's, answer. "Hey Ez."

"Mr. Dunne, please inform Mr. Larabee that Mr. Tanner and myself will be late..."

"You're already late." The youth laughed. "And Chris is in a rotten mood this mornin'. Has a meetin' with the judge. Somethin' about that last job we helped the ATF with."

"I'm sure he'll get over it." Ezra drawled, hoping it wasn't what he feared. They'd all tried to warn Mason, the agent in charge of the bust he was wasting his time. They were moving too soon and didn't have enough to convict the arms broker but Mason had insisted on doing things his way and his way had damn near gotten several agents killed, while allowing their target to escape. "Please inform Mr. Larabee that Mr. Tanner and I will be in the office when we have concluded our business."

Ezra hung up before JD could question him further, switching off the power on the tiny phone. Accepting the cup of cappuccino, Inez offered, the gambler made his way through the tables to the corner Tanner occupied.

Of the six men, Standish worked with, he found himself most drawn to the sharpshooter. The young Texan had offered his friendship and trust freely while the others with the exception of the young computer expert Dunne, had been slightly more reserved.

At first Ezra had believed Vin offered those precious gifts because of the small part of the past they shared, both having had the pleasure of calling Jamie Watson friend but as he grew to know the quiet man, the gambler had discovered Tanner was one of those rare people who judged others solely on what he saw, not rumors, innuendoes or past events.

Vin had not only welcomed Ezra into his small circle of friends, but he had gone out of his way to draw the con artist closer into the group of unique men that was quickly and steadfastly forming a family bond.

Ezra had never known men such as the other six individuals that made up Larabee's law enforcement team. He had never experienced being a vital part of anything before. His life had been spent on the shadier side of the street, learning his trade, working his cons, always careful to avoid falling off that thin tightrope he walked, knowing a misstep would land him in an eight by ten cell or worse yet a three by six box.

Stopping beside the table, he greeted his teammate. "Good morning Mr. Tanner. Mind if I join you?"

"Ezra." Vin didn't look up as Ezra set his cup on the table. "Not very good company right now."

"I can understand that. Why anyone gets up at this ungodly hour is totally beyond my comprehension." The con man hid his worry at Tanner's haggard appearance behind a dimpled grin, as his astute gaze flickered over his friend. Vin's blue eyes which were usually so full of life were dull, glassy and bloodshot. His long hair was mussed as if he'd continually raked his fingers through it, a nervous habit the sharpshooter did when agitated or worried; and if the gambler wasn't mistaken the young man was wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before.

Standish quietly slipped into the chair beside Tanner and waited. He knew Vin would talk if and when he was ready. Ezra's own life had been veiled in privacy and as such he never believed in butting in where he wasn't wanted or invited but it was obvious the kind hearted ex-bounty hunter was deeply troubled and could use a friend. Or at least someone to just sit silently by watching him get drunk and then making sure he got home safely.

"Miquel died last night."

Ezra's breath caught in his throat at his friend's quiet words, a vague memory of a happy twelve-year-old boy with an easy smile and large dark eyes flashing through his mind. He'd met the youngster when he'd picked up Tanner at the community center where the sharpshooter volunteered his free time.

His own heart broke, not only at the loss of a bright young life but at the desolation in the ex-police officer's voice. How many times had he heard Vin proudly talk about the boy who had such artistic talent? He himself had seen the child's potential in the artwork, which was proudly displayed, on Tanner's part of the office walls.

"How?" He questioned softly as he pushed his coffee cup aside.

"Drive by....Least that's what the police think." Tears rolled down the Texan's cheeks as he filled the glass for the fourth time since Ezra had joined him. "Was at the hospital most a the night......Lost him on the table....." He broke off shaking his head.

"I'm so sorry Vin." The words, though sincere, seemed sorely inadequate even to him. "You obviously don't agree with the assessment it was an accident."

He listened quietly as Vin released his sorrow and anger, describing the situation, which brought about such a tragedy. Tanner kept the shabby apartment in Purgatorio, he'd first rented when he was a rookie at the police academy, retreating to his mountain cabin or Larabee's small ranch, when the city got too much for him to handle. The cardsharp was acutely aware that having lost his mother at a very young age Vin had spent his youth in foster homes growing up on streets much the same as those in Purgatorio where he now lived. Because of that, Vin had a deep understanding and connection to the kids in the neighborhood. He identified with the people there and had earned their respect with his generosity and willingness to help.

In recent months, Vin had spoken to him of Manuel Sandoval taking over as leader of the Diablos. The Diablos, Tanner had explained had been around as long as most residents could remember, although up to that point they were basically nothing more than a public nuisance. Boys hanging out, drinking, fighting among themselves and other gangs, painting graffiti and performing other small acts of vandalism but under Sandoval's leadership, the gang had metamorphasized into a vicious and apparently fearless band of thugs determined to take over Purgatorio.

"Know it weren't......Sandoval approached Miguel a couple a times....Wanted him ta deal ta the kids at his school...." Tanner's tears came faster as a bitterness crept into his normally quiet drawl. "I want that bastard Ez!...I wanna blow his fuckin' brains out!"

"Since I have no desire to visit you in one of our state penal institutions, I suggest we get the bastard legally."

"We?" Tanner finally raised his anguish filled blue eyes to look at the man seated beside him.

"We." Ezra gave the sharpshooter a sad smile, his tone saying he wouldn't accept an argument.

Vin shook his head reaching to refill his glass. "Don't know iffen the judge'll go for it."

Ezra gently removed the bottle from his hand before he could pour again. "I have no intentions whatsoever of soliciting his authorization....At least not at the moment." The gambler shrugged.

Judge Orrin Travis had approached Chris Larabee with the idea of putting together a covert team willing and able to do whatever was asked of them. Their main goal, but by no means their only purpose was to take down criminals who for one reason or another seemed beyond the criminal jurisdiction of other law enforcement agencies. Ezra knew it was no secret His Honor thought Chris was at least temporarily insane asking the cocky con artist to become part of his team of do-gooders. Well, there was more than one way to show the judge the error of his ways.....Yet again.

"Judge Travis is a reasonable man. If presented with enough evidence I'm sure he'll easily be persuaded to see things our way."

*******

With a loudly uttered oath, Chris Larabee slammed his palm against the steering wheel, cursing rush hour traffic, asshole drivers, traffic lights and Ezra Standish. Why the hell couldn't the stubborn sonuvabitch do what he was supposed to...just once? Why did he always persist in pushing the envelope? Chris had the distinct feeling the man took a perverse pleasure in disobeying orders, especially if by doing so it meant he was pushing Chris one step closer to total insanity?

That morning, the blond team leader hadn't been happy when JD had delivered Standish's message but as Josiah had pointed out, the southerner had at least called in, which was a slight concession on the gambler's part. When the con man had first joined the team Larabee had begun to wonder if the man knew how to use a telephone. At one point he had even gone so far as to give the southerner a lesson in dialing telephone numbers, which had Buck rolling on the office floor with laughter.

To his credit, Larabee had tried to tell himself, Ezra's absence from the morning meeting with Travis was due to something more important. After all, according to his message the gambler was with Vin and he knew the Texan wouldn't let the cardsharp snow him.

Shit! He punched the steering wheel again. Who the hell was he trying to kid? When those two got together they were like the modern day versions of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. They were disaster magnets attracting trouble like flies to sugar. What one of them didn't think of the other one would, but this time Ezra had stepped too far over the line.

Chris' anger had boiled over when Dave at the newsstand had laughingly commented about it being rather early for a snootful. When Larabee had asked him about the comment, the man had described his errant Tom and Huck staggering from Inez's saloon earlier that morning. He had told Chris how both of them had damn near run into the door before making it out onto the street.

As he sped toward the gambler's apartment, Chris wondered what kind of reason Tanner would concoct to cover up and excuse his southern friend's actions. Always being late to the office was one thing Larabee could manage to overlook, but not showing up because the man was blind drunk was something totally different. Still a niggling thought tickled the back of Chris' mind. He couldn't remember the southerner ever having more than a couple of drinks at a time. What the hell had set the man off on a binge at nine thirty in the morning?

Of course, Chris, himself knew sometimes it didn't take much at all. He had spent...hell wasted....several years of his own life staring at the bottom of a bottle and he'd be damned if he'd let the same thing happen to any of his friends without a fight. One of his friends?....After everything they had been through that thought still jarred him as he realized the answer was yes! Ezra Standish was a friend, an arrogant, smart mouthed, cocky, irritating pain in the ass....friend. A friend he was going to strangle!

*******

Chris slowly lowered his fist as the penthouse door was flung open, and he stood staring at Ezra in stupefaction. The suave young man calmly stood in the open doorway dressed in black Dockers, the cuffs of his white shirt rolled up and his feet bare, a look of amusement on his handsome face at Larabee's obvious confusion. But there was a leery expression in the clear, bright green eyes that met his.

"Would you like to step inside Mr. Larabee or did you wish for the neighbors to hear what you came to discuss?"

"This is the penthouse Ezra, you don't have any neighbors." Larabee growled as he pushed past the man.

"Figure of speech." Standish smiled closing the door as Chris moved on into the enormous living room.

The older man stopped, stifling a smile as a tiny dog looking like nothing so much as a bundle of curls streaked across the room, yapping a greeting.

"How ya doin' Scoundrel?" Squatting on the balls of his feet, Larabee pet the small pup, a smile gracing his lips as the memory of his best friend rescuing the scrawny creature from the middle of the highway flashed through his mind. Vin had risked his life rushing through traffic to save the puppy from becoming road kill. Not wanting to turn it over to the shelter, they'd watched as the little dog had wiggled its way into the con man's heart. Thanks to the pup and unbelievably Ezra's mother, the past Christmas was one Chris wasn't likely to forget.

"Ya takin' care a Ezra for us?" He whispered, giving the pup's ears a final pat before standing to face the object of his anger. "Wanna tell me what the hell ya think you're doin'?" He demanded bluntly.

"I apologize for not informing you personally, I would be unable to come to the office today, I was otherwise....occupied." Ezra returned to the couch, absently picking up and swirling the glass containing two fingers of scotch, his gaze wandering to the drawer where he'd shoved the files at Larabee's insistent knock.

"Occupied how?....Swimming in a bottle?" Chris ground out, staring at the glass in Ezra's hand.

"Excuse me?" The gambler's poker face momentarily slipped at the accusation. "It would be most appreciated if you would lower your voice to riot level."

"Cut the crap Ezra!" Chris bellowed. "I know ya didn't come ta work today because ya was drunk! When ya joined this team, ya told me I could count on ya....We could all count on ya."

Leaning back against the sofa's thick cushions Ezra met Larabee's angry glare steadily, defiantly taking a sip of the liquor as Larabee continued his diatribe. He understood Chris' anger stemmed from worry, not only about what could happen to one of the others if Ezra's supposed drinking interfered with his job but also about the con artist himself. The fact that this man who'd survived so much, who'd faced down the demons and overcome his own need for alcohol, cared enough about him to get angry at the thought of Ezra facing those same destructive demons warmed his insides more than the liquor.

Realizing his friend was in no condition to work or be alone for that matter, Ezra had brought Vin back to the penthouse, poured enough coffee into the sharpshooter to keep him on his feet while he assisted him with a shower before putting the younger man into bed in one of the spare bedrooms.

"Ya wanna talk about what the hell's got ya drinkin' first thing in the mornin'?" Chris' voice lowered, concern in his hazel eyes.

Ezra remained silent.

"Damnit Ezra!" Larabee pushed to his feet. "Until ya get your shit together, consider yourself suspended." He paused in the doorway of the foyer. "We'll all help ya as much as possible....All ya gotta do is ask."

When the southerner said nothing, with a muttered curse Chris turned and left, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the china in the kitchen.

*******

"Don't ya think ya over reacted just a little bit Chris?" Buck asked, when he'd finally found his voice, stunned by his oldest friend's announcement. "I mean, hell, the only time I can remember Ezra gettin' honest to God, drunk was after his ma....." The pilot's voice trailed off realizing what he'd been about to say would only dredge up bad memories. Ezra had gotten drunk after Chris in a fit of temper brought about by Maude's lies had practically thrown the gambler off the team.

"I won't take a chance on someone gettin' hurt because he's too drunk or shaky to do his job." Larabee faced the four men in front of him, grimacing as he added. "One potential alcoholic on this team is enough.....I'd do the same if it was any of you."

"He gets drunk once or twice and that makes ya think he's an alcoholic?" JD rushed to his friend's defense. "That don't make no sense."

"It's when he gets drunk." Larabee reined in his anger, wanting the youth to understand he was speaking from experience and in his own convoluted way was hoping to help the gambler. "I'm afraid he drinks to avoid dealing with problems.....You don't have to drink constantly to have a drinking problem."

The computer hacker looked to Nathan who nodded agreement. In truth, he agreed with Chris' assessment but didn't think the scenario applied to Ezra.

"Did ya suspend Vin too?" Josiah questioned as he sat down on the corner of his desk, folding his arms across his massive chest. "He didn't come to work either. It occur to you he may have been drinkin' too?"

Chris gave him a scowl. "I'll deal with Tanner when he gets here."

"In other words you'll hear his side of it, before making any rash decisions right." Wilmington plowed ahead in his usual form when dealing with Larabee hoping his friend didn't interpret the remark as petty jealousy. They all knew, Vin had taken Buck's place at Larabee's side and there'd been no hard feelings on either man's part, their only consideration being what was best for Chris. However, at the moment, Buck's main concern was for the man who spent most of his time dealing with the darkest elements of their job. It was common knowledge, Larabee had a nasty habit of jumping to the wrong conclusions where the con man was concerned.

"I said exactly what I meant." Larabee growled, putting an end to any further discussion, as he stalked into his office, slamming the door solidly behind him.

"Damn!" Buck dropped into his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"What da ya think Vin'll do when he finds out?" JD asked, staring at the closed door.

"We'll know soon enough." Nathan answered JD's question, nodding to where the sharpshooter was exiting the elevators.

With slow steps, the Texan pushed open the door and moved down the aisle to where the men had congregated around Buck's desk. The doctor suppressed his natural instinct to rush the younger man down the hall to the clinic as his eyes raked over Tanner. He didn't have to be a doctor to notice the pale complexion, shaky posture or glassy look in the bloodshot eyes.

Ignoring their speculative gazes, Vin crossed to the coffee maker, grateful for the unusual quiet rather than the usual morning noise and horseplay instigated by Buck and JD.

Tanner belatedly suspected he could thank Ezra for the fact his hangover wasn't worse. The cardsharp had woken him every four hours forcing him to swallow aspirins and a glass of orange juice.

When he'd finally crawled from the bed, the gambler, looking as if he hadn't slept at all, had breakfast waiting and as the young man picked at the food he had shown Tanner the beginnings of the file he'd started on Sandoval.

Vin had shaken his head as he'd stared at the printouts. "Must have awfully thick walls, Ez, I don't remember hearin' anything." It had struck him as odd, the room Ezra used as a home office was right next to the bedroom, Vin had occupied. Yet to be honest, a SWAT team could have raided them in the night and Tanner wouldn't have remembered.

"You wouldn't have." Something in the gambler's statement had drawn the sharpshooter's attention but fighting a headache and queasy stomach, he hadn't questioned the remark.

After breakfast, Ezra had driven him home to change clothes and dropped him at the office, saying he had some things to take care of and would contact Vin later. Tanner had repeatedly warned him Chris was going to be highly pissed but Ezra had simply flashed those damn dimples, saying Mr. Larabee would just have to get over it. The sharpshooter wasn't too hung over to notice the hint of sadness in the gambler's green eyes.

No one moved or said a word as Tanner crossed to his desk, easing himself gingerly into the chair. He was thankful they didn't rush forth offering condolences on the loss of his friend but didn't think he could handle the concerned looks and uncomfortable silences either. Leaning back in his chair, he finally questioned, "What's goin' on?"

"Chris suspended Ezra." Vin choked, spilling the coffee as he whirled to face JD, his blue eyes wide with shocked disbelief. JD shrugged, adding, "Ezra didn't show up for work yesterday and Dave downstairs told Chris he saw 'im leavin'...."

"Aww hell..." No one moved, other than to get out of his way, as pushing from the chair, Tanner stormed to Chris' office like a Texas tornado, throwing open the door without bothering to knock. "You suspended Ezra?"

"Damn right...." Prepared for Vin's anger, Chris rocked back in his desk chair, steadily meeting his best friend's stormy blue eyed gaze.

"What the hell for?!" Tanner kicked at the desk leg in frustration. "If anybody's ta blame for Richmond gettin' away, it's that asshole Mason....He don't even deserve ta have a badge let alone..."

"It had nothing to do with Richmond." Chris calmly lit a cheroot, watching Vin pace the room. "It has everything to do with yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Vin stopped in mid step staring at Larabee in confusion. "Ya mean cause...."

"Yeah. Because......Ya gotta an explanation for his actions?" Chris demanded, knowing Vin would do anything to protect his friend whether Ezra deserved the loyalty or not.

Vin frowned, his confusion apparent. "He didn't tell ya?"

"Not a damn thing!"

"Which is the real reason ya suspended him right?" Josiah cut in, from where he and the others stood in the doorway. "If he'd told ya why he got drunk, you'd have let it slide?"

"I don't know what I would have done," Chris replied honestly, "but the fact is, he didn't even bother to try and explain."

"And that didn't strike you as strange? Ezra who will argue about whether it's night or day didn't even try and talk his way out of a suspension?" Nathan butted in.

"Maybe he was jist embarrassed or didn't feel it was necessary to explain that he was helpin' a friend." Vin sighed, understanding the hint of sadness he'd seen in the southerner earlier. Once again Larabee had jumped to the wrong conclusion blaming the con man for something for which he was innocent. "What the hell made y'all think he was drunk yesterday?....Because a half blind old coot who can't mind his own business saw him comin' outta Inez's?"

"Staggering out of Inez's." Larabee coldly corrected. He pinned Tanner with another glare. "Held up by a certain member of this team who has yet to explain why he neither came to work or bothered to call and tell anyone what was going on."

The slim Texan stunned them all. "Ezra wasn't drunk Chris.....I was."

Buck wasn't sure who to watch, the slender young man who looked as if he couldn't decide between punching a hole in the wall or bursting into tears, or his old friend who suddenly appeared as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

Vin's voice was low as he added. "Ez was holdin' me up, not the other way 'round."

The five men surrounded the sharpshooter when he sank into the empty chair, offering solace as he brokenly told them of Miguel's death and the following events, at least the ones he remembered.

Larabee hearing all he needed to, moved into the outer office, his hazel eyed gaze coming to rest on the plain empty desk in the far corner. Mentally berating himself, Chris grabbed his jacket, and headed for the elevator, hoping Ezra wouldn't make him grovel too much before accepting his apology.

*******

At the cemetery, the six men formed a comforting semi-circle around Vin as the Hispanic youth's casket was lowered into the grave, the other mourners having left to spend the afternoon comforting Miguel's family.

Vin's friends would wait. They would stand there beside him as long as necessary. They would remain at his side offering their comfort and support as long as he needed and accepted it. They would stand there without question, silently offering their strength until he was ready or able to leave.

As Tanner finally turned to leave a barely perceptible smile and a light squeeze on his arm was Ezra's method of assuring the sharpshooter, they would get Sandoval. Sooner or later, they would put a stop to the gang leader's activities. Hopefully they would do so before another innocent victim died.

With a last backward glance, Chris draped an arm around Vin's shoulders guiding him towards his truck. Larabee knew his friend wanted vengeance against the man he believed responsible and hoped their continuing to work on capturing Richmond would occupy Tanner's mind until he could work through his grief, but seeing the fierce look which vied with the hurt on his young friend's face, Larabee made a mental note to keep a close eye on his young friend.

*******

Chris sipped his coffee, his hazel-eyed gaze traveling around the office conference table as the members of his team studied the files, Ezra and JD had compiled. Unfortunately, their hard work had brought forth very little new information on Richmond.

"The man's like a damn ghost." Nathan murmured.

"Even ghosts can be exorcised Mr. Jackson." Ezra commented, without looking up from the notes he was scribbling. "You just have to discover the proper ritual."

"Well thanks ta that idiot Mason we're right back where we started." Buck growled. "Lookin' for a new ritual."

Larabee let his worried gaze settle on the man seated at his right. In the two weeks since Miquel's funeral, Chris had worked the team harder than normal, trying to rebuild the Richmond case, ordering everyone to the gym for workouts after hours, to the firing range for practice or running them through drills time and again. No one complained, like their boss, knowing it would allow Vin a release for his grief, yet the sharpshooter had barely spoken two words to anyone unless he was answering a direct question.

Worried about his friend, Chris had spent several nights following the ex-bounty hunter, watching from a distance as Tanner prowled the streets, talking to anyone who might have any information he could use against Sandoval.

Chris, more than a little surprised hadn't failed to notice the gambler of their group keeping a close eye on Tanner as well, Larabee had almost laughed himself sick, when he'd spotted the con man's, so out of place, classic car parked in a lot across from where Vin was meeting with several gang members.

The older man knew Ezra did his best to keep the six men at a distance as afraid of disappointing them as he was of being hurt but it was evident the sharpshooter with his shy smile, honest blue eyes and straight forward approach had somehow found a chink in the walls the con artist used to protect himself.

"Mr. Larabee, as much as no one likes to hear such theories, let alone voice them....I believe Mr. Richmond has a contact inside law enforcement." Standish's words brought the blond man's thoughts back to the meeting. "It would explain how he has managed to evade arrest no matter how well planned the course of action taken against him."

"I think he's right Chris." Josiah agreed, with a sad shake of his head. "Reckon it would have to be someone pretty high up too, a beat cop wouldn't know enough about ATF plans in time to warn him."

Larabee sat for several long moments in contemplation absently noting, no one made the usual jokes about Ezra's theory being prejudicial because of his own history. "I'll talk ta the judge. Convince him we need ta do this one alone....He can bring in the ATF at the last minute, when we're ready for 'em." He turned to the young computer hacker. "JD run a check on every high up in the police department...Do the same thing with everyone at the ATF who was in on the bust or might have access to information....you know what to look for....anything unusual, or-"

"You know how long that's gonna take Chris?" JD stared at his boss as if he'd lost his mind. "We don't even know who....or what we're lookin' for! Could be anybody?" The kid was good but he hated having to hack into everyone's personal life, trying to find a needle in the preverbal haystack

"Josiah's right...A beat cop wouldn't know anything unless they were needed for the bust and then only when it was time to move. Start with the department heads and detectives and work your way up." Larabee turned to Ezra. "Think ya can come up with some way ta get close ta-"

"NO!"

JD jumped, startled by the sharpshooter's vehement outburst. All eyes watched as Tanner raked his fingers through his long hair.

"Richmond ain't stupid!....Think he ain't figured out who the ATF had on the inside....Mason damn near got him killed once ya wanna let him finish the job?"

"Mr. Tanner, I-"

"No!" Angry blue eyes full of determination met the soft green of his friend before facing Larabee. "He tries to go in again Chris and I swear I'll quit!"

"Vin...I'm quite certain, Mr. Larabee would do nothing he thought-"

"No Ezra! No arguments." Violently shoving his chair back Vin stormed from the room, leaving them all staring at his retreating back. "Ya got a damn death wish or somethin'?" He snarled over his shoulder at Ezra.

"Tanner!" Chris yelled after his departing team member but Vin just shook his head ignoring his boss.

"Excuse me Mr. Larabee but I think this is something better handled with a modicum of tact." Ezra rose, stopping Chris who moved to follow Vin. Gathering the file and his coffee cup, he casually strolled from the room seeking out his agitated friend.

*******

"Don't wanna hear it Ez." Vin remarked as he filled the cup, Ezra held out. "Save yer fancy arguments for Chris." He warned. "I meant what I said.....Gettin' close ta Richmond ain't worth ya gettin' killed.....I ain't gonna lose another friend....."

"I appreciate your concern M-Vin...." In truth, the con artist was more touched by the sharpshooter's words then Vin would ever know or Ezra was even willing to admit. The gambler could never remember having friends, yet this man,..these men,..he mentally corrected, not only thought of him as a friend but were concerned about his well being, something which he was aware eluded even Maude. "I'm sure we can conceive a plausible story for my-"

Vin vehemently shook his head. "Forget it!...Ain't gonna happen." Tanner crossed to his desk but rather than sitting down, he dragged his own chair over to Ezra's desk. "Sorry 'bout that death wish crack but-"

"Perfectly understandable." Ezra grinned at the younger man. "I think anyone who persists in doing this type of work has to have at least a small mental problem."

'Small?' Vin mouthed silently, then added, "Especially someone who works undercover." It was the first genuine smile Ezra had seen on the sharpshooter's handsome face since before Miguel's death and he was sorry to see it quickly fade.

"You weren't serious about quitting were you?"

"Said it and meant it!" Vin met his gaze steadily.

Vin had been the first man recruited for Larabee's elite team. He had been at Chris' side from the beginning, helping decide who and what was needed to make this unorthodox team function. He had been the one who had suggested Ezra's own involvement and had been there offering his quiet support and help to the young con artist, teaching him how to deal honestly with the men who seemed just as determined as the ex-bounty hunter to drag the reluctant gambler into their family.

Standish knew if Vin quit, the team would fall apart, dissolving as if it had never been and Ezra could not and would not let that happen. These six men belonged together just as surely as if they truly were family linked by blood. Tanner needed these men just as much as they needed him.

"Without you....Who would watch my back?"

"What?" Vin choked on the coffee, stunned by the gambler's question. "Ya don't honestly believe Chris....or any a the guys would-"

Ezra held up a hand quickly stopping the young man's protest. No he didn't believe the team would intentionally hang him out to dry. They had already proven their loyalty but the con man would do or say whatever it took to keep Vin among these men where he belonged. The first rule in making people believe a lie was adding just enough truth to make the deception believable. Glancing past Vin, Ezra made sure the others were still in the conference room. He didn't want his words overheard and misunderstood, for that would only serve to drive a wedge between them.

"I believe our esteemed associates would do everything possible to protect me, which is why I feel confident that with a believable explanation it would be perfectly safe to seek out Mr. Richmond once more..." Again he held up a hand, preventing Tanner's argument. "Unfortunately, I also know that even with the best planning, unforeseen circumstances may arise. It's in those instances that I take great comfort in knowing," he hesitated, relieved no lie was needed in this statement, "you're....watching over me You see Mr. Tanner....Vin...."

Ezra once more glanced at the conference room, lowering his voice. "If it came down to a life or death decision between myself and....young Mr. Dunne....Mr. Wilmington would not hesitate to save our youngest...." He smiled ruefully, "and that's as it should be....likewise with Mr. Jackson and Mr. Sanchez...Each of them might hesitate, that split second,....long enough that neither person would be saved....As for our Mr. Larabee, I would hate to have to make him choose between you and I....." He smiled. "He would do what was necessary....but his guilt at not being able to protect everyone...especially you would destroy him...." The con artist gave him a self-deprecating smile. "You see Mr. Tanner, I not only count on your skills with a weapon but your level head as well as your experience on those streets."

Ezra didn't wish to pursue the statements or give Tanner a chance to consider what he'd said too closely, quickly changing the direction of the conversation. "Besides you have the ability to pass quite nicely as a....less than reputable business partner." 

"Ez...." There had been no self-pity in the gambler's speech and Vin realized Standish wasn't questioning any of the team's loyalty or desire to protect him. The con man was simply stating the facts as he perceived them. Facts which Tanner didn't want to admit were more than likely true. The men had paired off almost instantly finding a connection with their partner just as Vin and Chris had, a circumstance which left the con man unwittingly on the fringe of the group. Knowing the men as he did, Tanner was certain each of them would go to great lengths to protect their chosen partner.....The gambler had no such partner to fall back on. He had to depend on himself and each of the others.

The con man easily and readily accepted those circumstances as the way the cards were dealt. Ezra was exceptionally adept at turning the cards to his best advantage, doing whatever was necessary to win, but even he occasionally needed an ace up his sleeve and although he hadn't stated it Vin knew he saw Tanner as that hole card.

Vin had often wondered if they'd ever truly know the real Ezra Standish. The con man was as adept as a chameleon at changing himself. Always having relied on himself and his own wits and skills, just as the small lizard could alter its colors to evade predators, Ezra's personality more often than not reflected those around him, changing to fit each person he encountered and each situation which arose. That ever present adaptability allowed the charming gambler who found humor in even the most dire circumstances, to release his playful side, rapidly changing again to somber, verbose, arrogant, bashful, treacherous, trusting or dangerous...Whatever was needed to effectively protect himself and the heart he so closely guarded.

"Ez....Ya gotta know the guys would never let anything happen to ya."

"Not intentionally, just as I would never intentionally let anything happen to one of you but...." The words trailed off as averting his eyes, pink unexpectedly tinged his cheeks. Tanner suddenly realized Ezra had let down his guard enough to finally trust someone, fully and completely without a hint of doubt. A sudden tug at his heart moved him realizing that most trusted person was himself. "I assure you Mr. Tanner, I won't attempt to regain entrance to Mr. Richmond's inner circle without your approval of any plans.....However, I do feel it may be the only way to apprehend the elusive gentleman."

"Damnit Ezra do ya always gotta win an argument?" Tanner groused softly.

"Yes."

A slow smile spread across the sharpshooter's handsome face warming his eyes as he chuckled at the simple honest answer. Ezra may have convinced himself he had simply conned Tanner into seeing things his way rather than actually having revealed an intimate part of himself and Vin would continue to let him believe it, if it would be easier on the cardsharp but he would always know better. "Contrary to what ya think, ya ain't always right, ya know."

"That wasn't the question. You simply asked if I always had to win an argument. I'm ashamed to say it is the only flaw in an otherwise picture of sterling perfection." Ezra, his green eyes twinkling mischievously raised the cup in a mock toast. "Now if Mr. Larabee would come to the same logical conclusion as you my wise friend, and stop trying to win a battle of wits, my life would be so much more peaceful." He leaned closer to the Texan, "No offense to our esteemed leader for I hold him in the highest regard but it is a battle for which he is sorely unarmed."

Vin couldn't contain his humor.

Their spirits lifted at the sound of uncontrollable laughter as the five men exited the conference room, exchanging expressions of confusion. Only Chris saw the slight wink sent his direction as the con man lifted the coffee mug to his lips.

*******

Parking the jeep on the street at the opposite end of the alley, Tanner left the doors unlocked and keeping his keys in his left hand, strolled around the block, keeping his demeanor casual, his eyes searching the dark streets for any unwanted observers.

He was early but being the last to arrive at a meet, especially without backup, could mean being the first to leave in a body bag. As he moved into place, Vin unconsciously ran his fingers along his cheekbone. The swelling was gone, the previously vivid colors had almost completely faded. It had been a not so subtle warning: Mind your own business! Stay the hell away from SandovaI! He knew he was lucky. It could have been worse. A hell of a lot worse.

As far as anyone in Purgatorio knew, Tanner still made his living as a bounty hunter but they also knew he had a lot of friends in law enforcement. It was probably the only reason the thugs hadn't killed him outright, rather than jumping him outside his apartment building. The lectures, I told you so's and reasons for moving delivered with concern from his friends had been more painful than the mild beating.

In the two weeks since Vin had threatened to quit Larabee's elite team, the young man had started to feel again, allowing himself to grieve. By letting go of the anger, he was finally able to think clearly and see the sense in what the others were trying to tell him...not only about Sandoval but concerning Richmond as well.

Chris would wring his neck if the older man knew about this particular rendezvous and Ezra would probably empty that peashooter of his into the ex-bounty hunter's backside if he found out. None of the six would be happy, he'd chosen to follow through with this alone but while every instinct he had was screaming this was a set up he couldn't take a chance on losing what might be his best opportunity at taking down Sandoval.

To anyone passing by, the young man with long hair in the worn leather jacket, slouched against the wall could have been just another street punk, looking for a place to spend the night or maybe waiting to meet his connection, having enough money in his pocket to temporarily forget his problems in a drug induced haze. It was exactly the image Vin desired.

Tanner's observant blue eyes casually scanned the long alley, searching his memory. The doorways from the adjacent buildings were all located on the backside facing the cross alley and other non-descript buildings. A few discarded trash bags, bottles, cans and papers littered the dark passage way but there appeared to be no where to wait in ambush, nothing to readily use for cover.

Vin's studious gaze settled on a large indiscernible shape pressed against the dirty brick wall midway down the alley. With another quick glance around the empty street, he stepped into the alley pausing momentarily to let his eyes adjust to the loss of illumination provided by the dim streetlights.

"Aww hell," Easing the weapon from its holster at the back of his waistband, Vin knelt beside the prone body, his searching fingers feeling for a pulse as the pooled blood on the concrete soaked into the knee of his jeans.

A shrill scream filled the air and Tanner whirled around to discover several members of the Diablos standing at the mouth of the alley.

"He killed Davey!" A female voice shouted hysterically as a bullet slammed into the brick wall above Vin's head, close enough for him to feel the breeze as it passed.

Without backup, Tanner wasn't foolish enough to get into a firefight against automatic weapons. Spraying bullets kicked up dust at his heels as he raced down the alley, weaving and staying low to give his pursuers less of a target.

The sharpshooter hissed, then stumbled and rolled immediately back to his feet, continuing his flight of escape, despite the burning sensation as a ricochet blazed a red hot path through his upper arm.

Evidently the Diablos had thought the lean Texan would have to come through them to reach his vehicle since there was no one at the opposite end of the filthy thoroughfare to prevent his escape. 'Not very smart Sandoval.'

Clenching his teeth against the pain in his arm, he wove his way through the side streets, working his way back to his jeep, the Diablos close on his heels.

Glad he hadn't put the top on the vehicle, the sharpshooter vaulted the door, praying the dependable old jeep wouldn't pick this moment to play one of it's favorite games...Let's take our time starting. The engine growled and groaned in protest but turned over and with tires squealing, vaguely aware of approaching sirens, Vin left the deadly gang members behind.

*******

Ezra silently lifted the revolver from the nightstand drawer, whispering to Scoundrel to stay as he slipped from the bedroom. Contrary to popular belief, the gambler who freely admitted to loving his sleep and hated getting up in the mornings was easily awakened by unusual noises or lack of the familiar nocturnal sounds of his penthouse.

Scoundrel's low growl had quickly confirmed the southerner's suspicions he'd been awakened by the sound of someone attempting to or already having entered his home.

Ezra made a quick inspection of each room as he silently worked his way through the enormous penthouse on bare feet. The barely audible sound of rattling keys drew him to the front door, as it slowly opened just wide enough for a slender figure to slip through.

"I'd suggest you identify yourself unless you'd like a hole in your body the good Lord didn't put there." He called out lowly.

"No thanks," His intruder drawled in an all too familiar Western accent. "Already got one."

"Vin?" Ezra switched on a lamp, his green eyes widening at the sight of the lean ex-bounty hunter who stood swaying in the foyer, his complexion abnormally pale, a bloody towel wrapped tightly around his right arm.

"What the hell!" Setting the weapon on the table, the gambler rushed forward, grabbing Vin as the slender sharpshooter's knees buckled.

*******

As Ezra gently cleaned the wound, between gasps and softly uttered curses of pain, Vin explained to the gambler the events prior to his unexpected arrival at the penthouse.

"And it never occurred to you Mr. Tanner that you may have been strolling into a trap?"

"Course it did." Tanner hissed as Ezra poured antiseptic into the wound. The bullet had cut a path through his arm with no serious damage. He took a large swallow of whiskey from the glass the con man had poured. "Figured I might be facin' another beatin' but Davey was Sandoval's second in command. Rumor has it he's been lookin' to get rid a Manuel for a while now....Take his place....Note said Davey wanted a meet..."

Ezra glared at the younger man. "Why the hell didn't you take backup?"

Vin grinned, thinking how much the southerner looked and sounded like Larabee at that moment. "Couldn't take a chance on scarin' him off....Davey coulda give me enough intell ta put Sandoval behind bars for good."

"That'll have ta do till Nathan can look at it." Taping the bandage in place, Ezra helped Tanner to his feet, urging him toward the spare room he'd used earlier.

"Don't need Nathan." Tanner flexed his damaged arm, nodding in approval. "Ya did a right fine job Ezra, thanks." Vin eased himself back into his shirt, reaching for his jacket as Standish prepared the bed. "Appreciate the help Ez.....I'll be in touch."

"Excuse me?" Stepping around the weakened sharpshooter, who was shuffling unsteadily toward the hall, Ezra slammed the bedroom door turning to face Tanner. "Just where the hell do you think you're going?"

Winking at him, Vin gave the gambler a lopsided grin. "Ya know Ez, don't let this go to yer head none....you're a mighty good lookin' man but ya just aren't my type."

"Nor you mine Mr. Tanner." Ezra couldn't prevent a dimpled smile. "However, right here is where you are going to remain....at least for the night. As soon as we get you settled, I'll call Mr. Larabee-"

"NO!" Ezra's eyebrows arched at Tanner's reaction. Finally feeling the effects of the trauma Vin slowly sank onto the side of the bed. "Please don't call anybody Ez.....I shouldn't even a come here but.....couldn't think a nowhere else...."

Knowing the Diablos would be searching for him as he fled in his Jeep, Vin had wrapped a towel from his gym bag around his arm to stem the flow of blood and driven the streets, his foggy mind seeking a safe haven. Somewhere he wouldn't be found and his friends wouldn't be in danger of gang retaliation.

He'd known too well there was a real danger he'd pass out from blood loss before reaching his cabin or Larabee's ranch. As a doctor, Nathan would be obligated to report any gunshot wounds, (even if that meant just reporting it to Chris or the judge) and with the police knowing where he was, there was every chance the Diablos with their numerous contacts would locate him as well. He couldn't remember when or why he'd discarded the thought of Buck and JD's townhouse or Josiah's apartment or why he'd suddenly found himself at Ezra's, his jeep parked in a underground garage, several blocks away.

"Diablos'll be lookin’ for me....Want revenge.....They won't care who gets in their way Ez....Put ya all in danger....I'll...uhhh....I'll..." Vin didn't realize Ezra had been removing the sharpshooter's, shirt and boots as Vin argued his reasons for leaving.

"Ya have my word, Mr. Tanner, no one will know you're here." The gambler eased him down on the bed, pulling the blankets up around his shoulders. "You're safe here....Ya just rest and we'll talk in the mornin'."

Vin stubbornly shook his head even as he struggled to maintain consciousness. "Bring ya.....trou....ble..."

"Nothin' I can't handle." Ezra smiled as the Texan's eyelids drooped. "Especially for a friend."

Retrieving the gun and double checking the door locks, Ezra returned to the spare bedroom, settling into the chair to spend the rest of the night watching over the sharpshooter.

*******

Pointing out the obvious fact Vin was safer in the high security building than his apartment or some sleazy back street motel room, the gambler had secured Tanner's word he would remain at the penthouse at least for the day in exchange for Ezra's promise of silence. Before leaving for the office, Ezra had cleaned and re-bandaged the sharpshooter's arm, relieved to see no sign of infection but knew the best retardant for that particular scenario was antibiotics which required speaking with Nathan. Well, as he had learned at a very early age there was more than one way to acquire what you needed. It would be a simple matter for the con man to pick the lock on the medicine supply cabinet, Nathan kept in the clinic. If Ezra were a common thief. If the misappropriated medicine were discovered it would not only draw unwanted attention, posing the question of why anyone would go to the trouble of stealing antibiotics but it would violate the trust Ezra had worked so hard to earn from these men. Better to convince Nathan of his need for the drugs. If the healer thought the idea to be his own, so much the better.

*******

Arriving at the office earlier than normal, Ezra dropped his briefcase on the desk, and glanced at his watch as coughing violently, he hurried to the restroom, still carrying the half finished, Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee. Everything rested on timing. If his calculations were correct he had approximately three minutes before the others arrived.

Wringing the excess water from the cloth, he pressed the hot rag to his face once again, pleased to see the slight red flush the heat brought to his cheeks. The color combined with the dark circles beneath his eyes gave him the appearance of someone showing the first systems of the flu.

Gulping down the rest of the coffee as he heard the others enter the office, Ezra tossed the container in the trash, pressed the hot cloth to his face for another second and satisfied with his appearance took on the stance of someone feeling less than one hundred percent stepping from the bathroom just as JD commented on the unusual fact Ezra was the first to arrive at work.

"Might I ask what it is y'all find so interestin' about myself that has your eyes popping like you've witnessed the rising of the sanctified dead?"

"Just figured you're either sick or the world's comin' to a end." Buck joked, the laughter fading as the gambler silently made his way to his desk.

"Ya okay Ezra?"

"Fine Mr. Jackson," Ezra answered, putting a surliness to his tone usually reserved for those who woke him unnecessarily.

"Yeah right!" The gambler pulled away as the healer placed a palm against Ezra's forehead, grabbing a handkerchief and effecting three Oscar winning sneezes. "I can see how fine ya are."

"Perhaps I'm developing a touch of a cold." Ezra growled, making his voice as scratchy as possible. "I assure you I'm fine and ya have nothing to concern yourself with."

"I'll be the judge of that." Nathan scoffed, gripping the southerner's chin. "Open your mouth, I wanna take a look at your throat."

"There is nothing wrong with my throat. I'm quite certain I'll feel much better shortly." Everyone knew the gambler hated taking medicine of any kind fearing it would dull his senses, leaving him vulnerable.

"Shut your mouth and do what you're told Standish!" Chris ordered.

"That would be quite impossible since Mr. Jackson requires my mouth open for his examination."

"Ezra." Seeing the threatening glare as Larabee took a step forward, Ezra tilted his head back and opened his mouth, hoping the hot coffee and forced fits of coughing had given his throat a raw appearance.

"Satisfied?" The gambler arched his brows before sneezing again as Nathan stepped away. "Need I repeat myself and tell you there is absolutely nothing wrong with me?"

"Well I ain't takin' no chances on having to deal with ya when ya insist yourself right into pneumonia. I'll get ya some antibiotics and you get your butt home and into bed."

"I don't wish..." The words trailed off as Nathan disappeared down the hall, only to return moments later tossing a small bottle of pills into Ezra's briefcase snapping the lid shut.

"Now ya got three choices here." Nathan stated simply. "Ya can be a good boy and follow instructions which is to get your butt home, drink plenty of fluids and stay in bed for the day, that's choice number one. Number two, me or one of the fellas can drive ya home and baby-sit to make sure ya do what you're told."

"And choice number three?"

"I can stick your butt in the clinic and hook ya up to an IV." The evil grin that crossed the young doctor's handsome face clearly spoke of his personal choice.

The others chuckled as releasing a deep sigh of defeat, Ezra slowly rose and reached for his coat. "I will retire to my humble abode for the rest of the day Mr. Jackson if that will satisfy you and I give you my word, the pills in that bottle will be used appropriately. However I must assure ya once more there is absolutely nothing wrong with me."

Before Nathan could reply everyone's attention was drawn to the elevator, when two men in suits followed by several uniformed patrolmen exited immediately spreading throughout the floor and taking up positions next to the elevator and stairwell.

Larabee's team exchanged confused glances. They all recognized the routine procedure for search and seizure.

"Good Lord!" Ezra groaned sinking back into his chair, attempting to appear invisible. Chris gave the gambler a swift glance seeing the flash of fear and raw hatred that streaked through the emerald eyes, before focusing once again on the officers.

"Chris Larabee?" The taller of the two men raked his gaze over the gathered team.

"I'm Larabee." With a nose that more closely resembled a beak, and cruel eyes the man reminded Chris of a buzzard unwilling to wait for his prey to die before feasting on his next meal. "What the hell's goin' on?"

"Detective Roger Mason. Denver Police Department." He nodded to the man at his side. "My partner Leon Bass. We have a warrant here for the arrest of Vin Tanner for the murder of David Harrison and the seizure of all evidence from his desk and personal locker pertaining to Manuel Sandoval or David Harrison."

"What the hell are you talking about!" Chris' angry bellow as he snatched the paper from Mason's hand silenced the protests of his team.

Ezra was as shocked as the others. Unlike the others he had expected Vin to be questioned regarding the meet he was supposed to have with Harrison but to be suspected of the murder.....

"I'd appreciate it if one of you would point out Tanner's desk and-"

"That's his desk over there but we ain't got lockers." No one voiced a denial as JD pointed to his own desk, stating vehemently, "Vin wouldn't murder nobody!"

"You any relation to Bill Mason with the ATF?" Josiah asked as several of the officers returned, indicating with a shake of their heads Vin wasn't on the premises.

"My brother."

"Figures......" Buck muttered, "a family a morons."

Ezra stifled another groan at the answer, wondering why he hadn't connected the two in his mind. As if he heard the smaller man's thought, Mason turned to the gambler, what passed for a smile crossing his lips, his eyes cold as a glacier. "Been a long time Standish."

"Not long enough." The gambler sneered.

"I take it you two know each other." Chris commented, stepping closer to his undercover agent and laying a protective hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Oh me and Standish here go way back." Something in the man's voice as if he were thinking of a treasured memory sent a chill down Larabee's spine.

"Go on home Ezra." Larabee handed the gambler his coat. "Ya do what-"

"I would prefer he remain here for the time being Mr. Larabee." Mason stated. "I have a few questions."

"And I would prefer he follow his doctor's and my orders." Ezra felt like a bone being fought over by two mad dogs as Chris, his hazel eyes a dark green with anger met Mason's brown in a silent battle of wills. "Do as you're told Ezra. I'll give ya a call later to check on ya."

"When do you expect Tanner?"

"Actually, he won't be in today," Ezra stated rising as Nathan moved to help him on with his coat, handing him his briefcase. "I'm sorry Chris, but as I was about to tell you before we were intruded upon by....Denver's finest, Vin called shortly after I arrived. Said to inform you he was fine and would back as soon as he finished some personal business." Only his friends noticed the use of Larabee's Christian name. "As I told Dr. Jackson, I'm perfectly fine, but I would appreciate a call with any news concerning our friend."

Mason caught Ezra's arm, pulling him to a halt at the elevator. "We'll talk later Standish....I gotta lot more questions for you."

"Looking forward to it." The gambler focused on the hand gripping his arm, choosing to ignore the threat and obvious sadistic pleasure in Mason's quiet statement. "You're not dealing with a kid anymore Mason. Now kindly remove your hand or I'll remove it for you."

Ezra tossed his friends a small smile and a cocky two-fingered salute as he stepped into the elevator, beginning to tremble as the door slid shut.

*******

Scoundrel met Ezra at the door, his tiny body wiggling in all directions at once in greeting, his usual yapping silenced as if afraid of waking their guest. The small dog followed the gambler back to the bedroom, resuming his place curled protectively at Vin's feet as the ex-bounty hunter slept, his fitful mumbles of the night before giving way to exhaustion.

Retrieving the bottle of antibiotics from his briefcase, Ezra dropped two into his palm and filling a glass of water woke Vin long enough to make him swallow the medicine, assuring the sharpshooter there would be time to talk after he'd gotten more sleep. 

Returning to the living room, the gambler poured himself a strong drink and sank onto the expensive leather couch, fighting to push the nightmare memories aside.

The fates must be laughing hysterically at this latest practical joke played out at his expense....Ezra Standish, consummate con man, trying to live honestly. Working for a piddly amount of money he didn't need just to be near six men who had come to mean everything to him. Putting his life on the line to bring criminals to justice wasn't penance enough to satisfy them for his past sins. They had to add an obstacle in the form of Roger Mason.

The gambler berated himself again for not having associated Bill Mason of the ATF with the dark specter who haunted his nightmares. Of course he'd spent years trying to forget the name Roger Mason. Shoving the memories to the darkest corner of his mind and locking them away behind impenetrable walls....or so he thought.

Why with all the cops in Colorado did the investigation of David Harrison's death have to fall into the hands of Roger Mason? The answer was simple. The fates were bored. They would find it amusing watching the self serving southerner fight to prove his friend's innocence to the egotistical cop, defending him against the maniacal detective who saw only what served his purpose and did whatever pleased him to achieve his own means. They would sit back and laugh as he battled to protect the first person besides Jamie Watson who had chosen to be Ezra's friend without judging him or asking anything in return.

The cardsharp's usually steady hand trembled uncontrollably as he raised the glass of alcohol to his lips and a silent vow was pledged. Ezra would kill the sadistic son of a bitch himself before he allowed Mason to lay his cruel hands on the gambler's kindhearted friend.

*******

"Ezra?" Tanner was surprised to see the derringer automatically jump into the gambler's hand, for two reasons. The first being, it had always amazed them Ezra seemed to know who was in the vicinity without even looking and two because unless he was undercover the con man had taken to leaving the hideout rig locked in his weapons cabinet.

"I apologize Mr. Tanner." Ezra slid the small weapon back into its holder. "I didn't realize you were awake." Lost in his troubled thoughts of the past and seeking a way to protect his friend he hadn't been aware of the sharpshooter's presence in the room until he spoke, startling the gambler.

"Ya okay?" Vin's worried blue gaze settled on the almost empty glass.

"I should be the one asking that question." Ezra grinned. "Come on, I'll fix ya a sandwich."

"If you'll loan me a shirt, I'll be headin' out." The Texan followed Ezra to the expansive kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and settling on a stool at the breakfast bar.

"And just what destination did you have in mind to be 'headin' out' to?"

"Reckon I need ta go talk ta whoever is lookin' into Davey's death....Let 'em know what happened."

"Unfortunately, I don't think that's a very wise idea that this particular time." Ezra tried to sound casual as he began tossing items onto the counter, avoiding looking at the man, certain of his friend's reaction to the news he had to impart.

"Uhhh Ez......Are ya spring cleanin' the fridge or plannin' on feedin' a small platoon of starvin' grizzlies?"

"Excuse me?" Hearing the humorous tone in Vin's voice, Ezra glanced over his shoulder his own smile growing at the enormous pile of groceries on the counter and back into the almost empty refrigerator.

"Dagwood couldn't eat a sandwich containing all this." Tanner laughed the smile slowly fading his voice growing somber. "What's goin' on Ez?"

Ezra leaned against the closed refrigerator door, shoving his hands in his pockets finding it extremely difficult to meet Tanner's steady gaze. "The police were at the office this mornin'. They have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of David Harrison."

Seeing the color that had only begun to return, drain from Vin's handsome face, Ezra crossed to the counter and busied himself creating the promised sandwich as he detailed the morning's events.

"I didn't do it Ez."

The gambler stared at Vin, incredulous the man would actually think anyone would believe him capable of such a brutal act. Did he truly think he had to convince Ezra of his innocence?

"I didn't do it."

"Mr. Tanner.....Vin, I guarantee, not for a minute fraction of a second did the mere hint of a thought you had committed said crime ever enter my mind, nor that of our esteemed associates."

Azure eyes met emerald for a long drawn out moment before the sharpshooter visibly relaxed gracing the gambler with a lopsided grin. "Best get goin'."

"What!....Where?!" Ezra's expression clearly displayed his amazement, the lean Texan was still determined to leave. "Ya aren't seriously considerin' what I fear you're considerin' are ya?"

"Don't ya see Ez," Vin drained the cup easing himself from the stool, "I look guilty by not turnin' myself in."

"Mr. Tanner, might I offer a suggestion?" The cardsharp returned his attention to the sandwich. "It might be wise to wait until we discover exactly why the police deem you the only, or at least the most likely suspect before you place your fate in the workings of the legal system."

"And just how do we find that out?"

"If I know our illustrious leader, the moment the police exited the premises this morning he was on the phone demanding the honorable Judge Travis intervene on your behalf." The cardsharp and the ex-bounty hunter shared a smile, each picturing Larabee nose to nose with Travis, his full steam ahead, do what you have to do come hell or high water approach, not intimidating the older man at all.

"I done got ya more involved than I meant to Ez. Bad enough Sandoval'll be lookin' for all a ya tryin' to get ta me." Vin shook his head, pain flashing across his face as he automatically reached for the refilled coffee cup with his right hand. "I stay here, ya got trouble with the law too...It's aidin' and abettin' not ta mention harborin' a fugitive. Better iffen I just go see this detective and-"

"I prefer to think of it as aiding, abetting and harboring an innocent and very good friend." Ezra interrupted, the statement bringing a smile back to the Texan's face. Ezra always did have his own peculiar view of things, twisting the picture to suit himself. "I've been giving this a lot of thought Vin,.....You don't know this asshole in charge...."

"And you do?"

"Yes.....I do." Tanner watched as a sudden awareness lit the green eyes and a small smile played on the con man's lips, wondering what was going on in that quick mind. "I do know him." Ezra sounded as if he were amazed by his own statement.

As if a veil had been lifted, the answers Ezra had been searching for appeared clear as spring water. He did know Roger Mason. Knew how the man thought. Knew how he viewed the world and how his mind worked.

'Think Ezra. You know this asshole. You just have to think like him. Think like him and you can anticipate his next move. Anticipate him and you stay one step ahead of him.'

"Mr. Tanner, I would like your word, you will remain here and allow Mr. Larabee, myself and the rest of your friends....your family...." Ezra smiled setting the sandwich on a plate and shoving it toward the sharpshooter, "to intercede in this intrepid conflagration of misunderstanding."

"English Ezra."

"Let us help straighten out this mess."

Tanner sat for several moments staring at the sandwich, listening to Ezra's arguments, considering the facts the southerner laid out as clearly as if he were a general explaining a battle plan.

"Okay Ez, for the time bein'." Vin agreed, pain and weariness apparent in the blue eyes. "I can't eat this sandwich though."

"Why?" Frustrated the gambler pulled the bottle of pills, from his pocket. "Ya need to take these and ya shouldn't be takin' 'em on an empty stomach."

"Even my stomach ain't this strong." Wrinkling his nose in disgust Vin burst into laughter as Ezra stared at the sandwich. Lettuce, tomato, onion, tuna, cheese, sardines, and several slices of raw bacon.

"We'll save it for Mr. Wilmington." The southerner grinned.

*******

Not wanting to wake the sleeping man, Ezra lightly rested his palm against Tanner's forehead, pleased to feel the skin was cool to the touch and adjusting the blanket over the slender shoulders, quietly slipped from the room.

The southerner, wandered the penthouse again giving it a final inspection, mentally running the 'to do' list through his mind, checking off each item and searching for anything he may have forgotten.

As soon as Vin had eaten a more suitable sandwich and taken two more antibiotics as well as a pain pill from the bottle in Ezra's medicine cabinet, leftovers from a broken arm suffered during an arrest, the gambler had ushered him back to bed, this time in the master bedroom ignoring Tanner's objections and set about eradicating all evidence of the sharpshooter's presence in the penthouse.

He'd checked every inch of the enormous apartment scrubbing away the minute drops of blood from the foyer and bathroom floors, checking the doorframe, hallway and elevator, erasing any trace of evidence the wounded man, now a fugitive, had been in his building.

Bundling the bloody towel, used bandages and first aid apparatus as well as Vin's shirt in a garbage bag, he'd disposed of the offending items in the dumpster behind the leather shop a few miles away, where he'd left Tanner's jacket for repair.

He smiled thinking the old leather coat should have joined the collection in the trash but Vin loved the damn thing and Ezra couldn't bring himself to be the one to break the ex-bounty hunter's heart by tossing it away.

Returning home Ezra had checked on his friend, waking him for his next dose of medicine before lighting the fireplace, He'd quickly emptied the briefcase tossing the files he'd collected on Sandoval into the orange blaze watching carefully to be sure everything burned.

Pouring himself a drink, Ezra settled on the couch, watching the flames dance in the fireplace, the thrill of the game sending a rush of adrenaline through his blood as he waited for Mason. This time the playing field was on his turf and he had a team that even Satan couldn't beat.

*******

Inez deposited the team's drinks, not questioning the fact they weren't seated at their usual table or that Buck had turned up the volume on the jukebox although it was still early and the bar was less than half full of its usual noisy customers. With a glance at the two empty seats, the woman moved off to take care of her other customers wondering what kind of trouble the last two members of the elite team had gotten themselves into that had them avoiding Larabee.

Chris waited until JD nodded the all clear, slipping the small device that would detect any monitoring equipment into his pocket, before listening to their reports and filling them in on his meeting with the judge.

The moment the elevator doors had closed on Mason and his uniformed goons, Chris had been on the phone to Judge Travis, informing the clerk he was on his way concerning a matter of dire importance that couldn't wait, issuing orders to his team as everyone grabbed their coats. He searched Tanner's desk, JD's lie having left it undisturbed, pulling a thin file marked Diablos from the bottom drawer.

"Hit the streets and find Tanner. Buck, you and JD head up to the cabin and check my place on the way back. Anybody locates him, stay where you are and call on the cell phones. Nobody discusses anything on these phones. You can damn well bet we've all grown tails..."

"We know what to do about a unwanted appendage." Josiah grinned. "Simply cut it off."

"Just don't hurt 'em." Larabee growled, his hazel eyes taking on an evil glint. "Unless it's necessary."

They had spent the day searching the streets, checking Vin's favorite haunts, contacting every informant they had or heard of, talking to Tanner's friends in Purgatorio and calling in every favor owed securing promises of help.

"So what'd the judge have to say Chris?" Buck muttered, casting a wary eye at the two plain-clothes cops sitting in a booth a few yards away. "Is he gonna help us?"

"Ain't much he can do."

"He don't think Vin's guilty does he?" JD interjected before Chris could say more.

"No JD, he doesn't but the DA and the cops are playing this pretty close to the vest. Seems they got an eyewitness. Some girl Harrison left waiting in the car while he went to talk to Vin. Says she heard arguing and went to see if he was ready to leave when she saw Vin pull a gun and shoot him point blank."

"Bullshit!" Wilmington growled, throwing the cops another angry look. "Who is this bitch?"

"Travis is pullin' strings to get us all the information the DA has as soon as possible. He's already threatened ta throw them all in jail if Vin's name or picture hits the wires before they're ready to go to court." Larabee tossed back the shot following it with a large swallow of beer and signaled Inez for another.

"What else Brother?" Josiah questioned, knowing Larabee hadn't told them everything. "There has to be more than her word against Vin's for them to charge him rather than just want him for questioning."

"Seems a gun registered to Tanner was found at the scene." Chris gripped the beer glass so tightly they feared it would shatter in his hand. "They also found blood stains that didn't belong to Harrison. Figure Vin might be hurt."

No one spoke, unsure what to say, a sudden fear for their friend adding to the worry and weariness that had settled over them.

Needing a small respite the talk turned to the other missing member of their family, each feeling guilty that with their search for the sharpshooter no one had thought to call and see if the gambler was feeling any better or needed anything.

"Did y'all see his reaction to Mason, this mornin'?" Chris questioned, wondering if in fact he had witnessed a moment of terror in the southerner's emerald eyes.

"The question is did you see Mason's reaction. He knew Ezra was there." Josiah pointed out. "I had the distinct feeling he was more interested in our black sheep than his supposed murder suspect."

"Speakin' of which, what do we do now?" JD brought the subject back to Tanner. "Ya know we'll play hell finding Vin if he doesn't wanna be found....and we don't even know where to start lookin'."

"Ezra knows." Nathan kept his eyes on the glass as his quiet words, the first he'd spoken since sitting down, drew their undivided attention.

"What'd ya say?" Buck leaned forward resting his folded arms on the table, his dark gaze casually scanning the room to be sure they weren't overheard.

"I said Ezra knows where to find him."

Nathan's thoughts that day had often turned to the stubborn southerner who pushed the doctor to the limits of his patience and beyond. Since their first meeting, he could never remember the con man being ill,....injured was another matter all together but never ill. Ezra had once joked his constitution was too sneaky for any germs with the gall to attempt an attack on his person.

As the hours passed, each time he thought of Tanner, his thoughts immediately turned to Ezra running the morning's events through his mind time and again always coming up against the same question. If Ezra wasn't sick why would he need antibiotics?

Now that question had been answered.

"Tell us." Chris ordered as soon as Inez had delivered the second round and moved away.

"Been thinkin' about it all day....Runnin' what he said through my mind....Think about it..." Nathan glanced at each of them. "Ezra never said he was sick....We did.....He insisted he wasn't....."

"So?" JD shrugged, confused as to what this had to do with the gambler knowing where Vin was. "He sure looked sick."

"Exactly." Nathan grinned. "Ezra does everything in his power to hide when he's hurt, yet other than insisting he was fine, he did nothing to camouflage the fact he wasn't feeling well. Doesn't anyone but me find it a little strange he didn't argue about taking those pills. As a matter of fact he made a point of telling me the antibiotics would be used appropriately."

"So why con ya outta some antibiotics....That don't make no sense."

"It does if he knows of someone else he thinks might need 'em." Chris grinned, giving the youngster a slight wink. He'd kick the obstinate southerner's ass! Ezra had used their concern against them to achieve his own goal, conning them as easily as if they were school children.

"If that was the case, why didn't he just steal 'em from the clinic? We all know locks ain't gonna stop him." Buck pointed out. The question had been posed in hopes of getting the desired reaction from the youngest of their group, who'd been unusually quiet all day. Like Vin, JD never failed to rush to the con man's defense. Wilmington wasn't disappointed as JD gave him a poor imitation of a Larabee glare.

"Ezra ain't no thief!....Just like Vin ain't no murderer!"

"I know kid.....Just thought it was worth hearing again." Buck chuckled squeezing the younger man's shoulder reassuringly.

"Why don't we see how our sick southern Brother is doing?" Josiah suggested, hitting speed dial and passing the phone to Chris.

*******

Ezra smiled, as a verification notice came up on the monitor reviewing the information before signing out of the site and shutting down the computer.

"He awake boy?" Rubbing the tiny animal's head gently as Scoundrel padded into the room, Ezra realized Vin must be up. The little dog had spent the day watching over Tanner, leaving the room only when the Texan awoke or on the few occasions he'd needed out to use the corner of the rooftop patio the gambler had fixed into a small park especially for his Christmas present's outdoor needs. "Knowing our thin western friend he's probably starving."

*******

Dressed only in jeans, Vin emerged from the bathroom, his head buried under a towel attempting to dry his long hair with one hand as Ezra entered the bedroom carrying the pizza with everything, he'd picked up on his way back from the leather shop.

Setting the pizza on the dresser, Ezra pushed the sharpshooter into the chair and slapping his hand away, vigorously rubbed the excess water from the thick brown hair before using the brush to remove the tangles, ignoring the tracker's protest he wasn't a child.

"Mr. Tanner, just as you aren't a child neither am I a doctor, but I do know the more you move that arm, the more likely you are to start it bleeding again." Ezra explained patiently. "I'm out of bandages at the moment and have no intentions of ripping extremely expensive designer sheets into shreds just to satisfy your rebellion against temporarily needing a helping hand." He knelt and examined the damp white wrapping, pleased to see Vin had done a passable job of keeping the bandage reasonably dry.

Tanner watched in confusion as Ezra tossed him a clean shirt, motioning to the pizza as he crossed to the nightstand staring at the ringing phone.

"Aww hell...." Kicking off his loafers, the gambler dove into the bed, pulling the covers up before hitting the speaker button.

"This better be important." If Tanner didn't know better he would have sworn listening to Ezra, the southerner had been awakened from a sound sleep.

"You're damn right it's important!" Larabee's well-known growl came over the wires, bringing a grimace to the con man's face. "We was wonderin' how ya was feelin' and if ya needed anything?"

"As I reiterated many times this mornin' Mr. Larabee, there is absolutely nothin' wrong with me and thank you but I have everything under control."

"We all believe ya but ya know what a worrier Nathan can be, always concerned about the patient's welfare."

Ezra didn't miss the emphasis on the first half of the sentence or the fact Chris had used the word the instead of his patient's. He wondered which of them had been the first to see through the morning's charade.....Nathan....Definitely Nathan. The man wasn't stupid and with his high moral standards he was suspicious enough of what he considered the con man's unethical ways to look for ulterior motives to his every action.

"That's one reason he is such an excellent health care provider but you may inform our pesky physician I am currently stretched out quite comfortably and snug in my nice warm bed just as he ordered and as promised the medicine he provided is being taken as instructed. The patient is fine." Larabee would have to be unconscious not to receive the message being sent.

Dropping the pizza box on the bed, Vin clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, vividly imagining Chris' expression of exasperation at the long-winded speech of the supposedly sick southerner.

Ezra definitely had his own way of doing things but Vin couldn't help but wonder what Chris and Nathan would think if they'd seen the cardsharp jump into bed before answering the phone so everything he said to them would be the truth. Would they recognize the motive behind the actions? Would they too wonder when the young con man had begun to care enough about the men he worked with to want to be honest with them?

Knowing any uninvited listeners would find it highly suspicious if neither man mentioned Tanner, the gambler asked, "Any word on Vin's current predicament?"

"Nope and nobody's heard from him." Chris tried to sound as worried as he had been moments before hoping to disguise the relief surging through him. Vin was all right and for the moment he was safe. "Fill ya in tomorra. We're all about to head home. Hopefully he'll call one of us....Buck thinks he's headed for Mexico."

"Tell Mr. Wilmington, South America would be a much safer choice. You can be extradited from Mexico." Standish quipped sending Vin scrambling for a pillow to muffle his laughter. "I shall see you in the morning Mr. Larabee." Ezra disconnected the line before something was inadvertently said which would give up the ruse they were both playing.

*******

Aware they were being closely scrutinized, everyone did their best impression of Ezra, remaining impassive as Chris nodded. Nathan's assumption was correct. Ezra had been in touch with their wayward tracker and had dealt with any injuries Vin may have suffered. Each lost in their own thoughts, searching for a way to help their friend, the men focused on their drinks.

Larabee mentally kicked himself. He should have known. He should have known, Tanner unable to get to Chris would have turned to the con man for help, just as something told him, Ezra digging his heels in all the way would have sought out Vin if he needed assistance.

The sharpshooter had somehow worked his way past the protective walls Ezra maintained to keep from being hurt and in turn the gambler had offered the most valuable thing he could to the gentle Texan.....His trust. Ezra trusted the team to watch his back in the field but he trusted only Vin not to reject the tentative hand of friendship he offered. The con man played to each of the other five men's expectations of him becoming what they imagined him to be. Only the eagle-eyed sharpshooter who looked at the world with his heart saw the true Ezra Standish.

Why was it Ezra took it on himself to silently help the ex-bounty hunter? He had to know Chris and the others would do everything in their power to protect Tanner. He was Larabee's best friend, the connection between them so strong as to often be psychic. Larabee had awakened late last night, his senses reeling, certain something was wrong. He just didn't realize how wrong!

Ezra's expression when Mason entered the office flashed through Chris' mind again. Yes. Larabee had definitely seen fear in the young con man's eyes but somehow he didn't think it was fear for Tanner. There was a history between the cop and con artist and it wasn't a pleasant one. It had been pure hatred shining in the detective's eyes when he looked at Ezra. If Josiah was right about Mason, being a friend of Standish's deepened Vin's trouble and put him in further danger.

His dark gaze still shooting daggers at the men in the booth, Buck jumped, startled by the shrill ring of his cell phone. Grinning sheepishly as the others laughed the amiable pilot's smile quickly faded turning to an angry scowl at whatever was being said on the other end of the line.

Shoving up from the chair, he grabbed his jacket, the other men automatically following his lead. "Thanks I owe ya one." Snapping the phone shut, he pulled loose bills from his pocket tossing them on the table. "That was friend at the...." His eyes automatically sought the surveillance officers. "Mason's got search warrants for our houses. Plans to hit every place at once. We got about twenty minutes."

"Buck, you head out to the ranch....JD can handle your place. I gotta replace a damn door and I'll have Mason's ass!" Chris growled loud enough for the two officers to hear.

"Where's Chris goin'?" JD asked the preacher as Larabee, truck tires leaving streaks on the pavement, roared from the parking lot.

"Ezra's." Josiah steered the smaller man to his car. He'd drop the youth off leaving Buck extra time to reach Chris' ranch.

*******

Larabee weaved through traffic, cursing slower drivers, slowing long enough to make sure intersections were clear before ignoring the signals, trying desperately to convince himself Standish wasn't stupid enough to hide Vin at the penthouse. Who the hell was he kidding? It would be just exactly the sort of outrageous foolhardy stunt the southerner would pull. Thumbing his nose at the collective intelligence of the Denver Police Department, laughing as they searched the city for someone sitting in the luxurious comfort of the penthouse.

As sure as his son's name had been Adam, Chris knew Mason, himself, would serve the warrant on Ezra causing as much trouble for the con artist as possible. There was a sense of innate cruelty about the man which combined with his feelings of superiority and self-importance made him dangerous. There was no doubt in Larabee's mind, the cop wouldn't hesitate to kill Vin at the slightest show of resistance from the sharpshooter.

He wanted to call the gambler and warn him of the impending intrusion but feared it would induce the detective to move before Larabee arrived.

*******

"Just want ya ta know, I appreciate everythin' Ez." Vin sighed, pealing the label on the beer bottle into strips, a depression settling over him. "I been thinkin' about everything and it's best iffen I-" The words trailed off as the penthouse lights flashed twice, burned steady for a second and flashed twice again. "Forget to pay your light bill?"

"Call it a remnant from my past life." Shoving the beer into Vin's hand, "Come with me...we only have a couple a minutes."

Vin trailed Ezra shaking his head in confusion as the cardsharp stripped from his jacket, shirt, and socks on the way back to the bedroom, tossing the clothing into the chair Tanner had occupied earlier. "Couple minutes for what?"

"To hide ya."

"The closet Ez? That's the first place everybody looks....." Tanner shook his head, as Ezra threw open the doors to a walk in closet large enough to be used for an extra bedroom. "There and under the bed.....Maybe I just better-"

"I guarantee you Mr. Tanner, no one will know you're here." Vin watched his eyes widening in amazement as pushing several suits to one side the gambler reached into the upper corner. Depressing a small square panel, the back wall slid aside revealing a ten by twelve room. "I apologize for the small surroundings but will retrieve you from your temporary confinement the moment our unwanted guests have departed." With an apologetic smile Ezra waved the ex-bounty hunter through the door. "Don't worry about noise, the room is sound proof."

Vin closed his eyes, struggling against the urge to scream as the panel slid closed.

*******

Emptying his pants pockets onto the dresser, his belt joining the other items in the chair, Ezra pulled on a robe and raked a hand through his hair, mussing the perfect style just as the door chimes sounded.

Taking several deep breaths, forcing himself to appear calm, Ezra strolled toward the door, smiling as the persistent chimes gave way to angry knocking. Mason certainly hadn't developed any more patience or tact over the years.

"Is there no compassion for the ill left in this miserable world?" The gambler groaned, pulling the door open, appearing surprised as Mason and a detail of uniformed officers shoved past him entering the apartment before he could close the door.

"Got a warrant to search the premises..."

"May I see that?" The gambler held out his hand, an arrogant smile on his handsome face. "I would appreciate it if everyone remained where they are while I peruse the legality of this document."

"While you-"

"He said he wants to read the warrant before you search," Chris closed the door behind him, giving Mason a threatening glare. "A simple request that he has every right to make."

"What are you doing here?" Mason sneered. He had expected his partner to be serving the warrant granting them access to Larabee's small ranch.

"It's none a your business but I stopped by to check on Ezra. He's been under the weather lately."

"Your concern is most appreciated Mr. Larabee." Gracing his boss with a small smile, his surprise at seeing Larabee genuine, Ezra slowly and patiently read every word, the impatient tapping of Mason's foot giving him pleasure. "It says here gentlemen, this gives you the legal right to search my home for one Vincent Tanner, wanted for the murder of David Harrison and that you also have the legal right to confiscate my computer and all computer discs."

"We know what it says Standish," Mason sneered. "Now if it meets with your approval...."

"What meets with my approval detective," Chris cringed at the disdain in the word, wondering why the con artist always had to take that extra step, "is that you adhere to the legal document I now hold, as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible removing yourselves from my humble abode, without damaging anything." Ezra was pleased to see the anger burning in Mason's eyes. "I have some very expensive items in my home and would be extremely displeased...."

"I have a pretty good idea how you got these fancy digs and don't really give a damn what displeases you." Mason motioned for the officers to get started.

"You haven't the least conception at how I acquired said items nor is it any of your business but I believe it only fair to warn you that if I find so much as a microscopic chip from any of my possessions I will own you and your entire department." The arrogant smile returned. "I have the best lawyer in Colorado on retainer and he loves taking on badges...especially ones pinned to assholes."

Mason's face burned deep red at Larabee's laughter as he delved into every ounce of self-control to avoid pitching the smart mouthed southerner off the patio. Chris' appearance in the doorway had thrown his plans for Standish into the dumpster but there would always be another time.

Hatred flooded through his veins as he watched the smug gambler accompanied by Larabee follow the officers through the expensive apartment. Mason didn't believe Tanner was hiding at the penthouse. Hell, Standish was too self serving to put himself out for Mother Teresa let alone some ex-bounty hunter who was barely literate enough to pass the police academy exam. Searching for Tanner had been nothing more than an excuse to....

"Tanner's not here sir, and there doesn't seem to be any evidence he has been." One of the uniforms shrugged, his expression clearly saying this had been a waste of everyone's time.

"The wilderness is more to Mr. Tanner's liking." Ezra sniped. "If as you believe, he committed the crime of which he's accused and wished to avoid prosecution, an act I might add that is totally out of character for someone as forthright and upstanding as Vin, he would undoubtedly head for the hills where he's most at home and you would never stand a chance of finding him."

"Everyone's capable of murder Standish," Ezra refused to move away as Mason crowded him leaning so close the gambler could have counted his fillings. "I know you Standish. You know where he is and you're sleazy enough to help him escape but it ain't gonna happen....You can count on it! Tanner committed murder and he's goin' down!" The next words spoken so low, only Ezra heard sent a chill down his spine. "Remember what happens to people who cross me."

"You've completed your purpose for being here," The steel in Ezra's voice surprised even Chris. "Now get out!"

*******

Vin glanced around the small room, surprised to find it wasn't a hideaway so much as an office. Three fireproof files cabinets lined the wall at one end, opposite a expensive computer set up complete with printer, scanner and several pieces of equipment he didn't recognize at the other. Shelves lined the far wall, housing expensive camera equipment, files, floppy discs, manuals and books of all categories.

Not meaning to intrude but needing something to take his mind off the fact he was literally trapped in the small room, the only person who knew of his whereabouts was also his only means of escape, Vin paced the area, examining several objects on the shelves, flipping aimlessly through manila files on top of the cabinets.

He relaxed, his gaze falling on several framed photographs hanging on the wall over the computer. Tanner smiled remembering the weekend spent at Chris'. A photo of JD and Buck wrestling playfully in the dirt, a photo of Josiah and Nathan relaxing on the porch, beers in hand, smiles on their faces lost deep in a discussion. A picture of Chris and Vin riding across the meadow, Larabee astride his favorite horse and Vin mounted on the little mare he'd rescued. A picture of Vin seated in the grass next to the stream that ran through the meadow in front of the house, his eyes on the stars overhead. A picture of Chris stretched out on his porch swing, Buck leaning over his shoulder, both men sharing a laugh. When had Ezra taken these?

Tanner sank into the comfortable chair in front of the computer a smile growing as he lifted the object next to the monitor. Oh Ezra no way are you wiggling out of explaining this.

*******

Larabee had watched the exchange between Ezra and Mason, his own feelings of anger and trepidation growing. Whatever was going on between these two didn't bode well for Vin. Ezra didn't move from the doorway until the elevator doors slid closed whisking Mason to the street.

"Well Mr. Larabee, I appreciate your..."

"Where is he Ezra?" Chris, his arms folded across his chest, his feet firmly planted on the floor, let the gambler know he wasn't leaving without answers. "I know he's here..."

Standish forced himself to remain still, meeting Larabee's amused gaze. He was torn between the two promises made to the sharpshooter. He'd given Vin his word no one else would be involved in his situation, yet he'd also promised to release the claustrophobic tracker as quickly as possible. "Mr. Larabee, you yourself toured...."

"Don't try to con me Ezra." His hazel eyes twinkled, a hint of amusement in his voice. Chris couldn't remember ever seeing the southerner so completely ill at ease. "You're only allowed one a day."

Ezra glanced past the blond man, quickly meeting his gaze again shifting from foot to foot. Damnit! There had to be a way to keep both promises. He had to get Chris out of the apartment so he could allow Vin to leave the hidden room.

"I know he's here Ezra. I know it as surely as I'm lookin' at ya." Chris stifled a smile, unnaturally pleased with himself as the gambler struggled to maintain his infamous poker face. It wasn't often he got the best of the slippery southerner.

"And just how would you know that Mr. Larabee?" Standish tried one last bluff. "Unless you have better vision than the half dozen police officers who just left I see no....."

"Anchovies."

"Excuse me?"

"There's no anchovies on the pizza in the kitchen and you love those hairy little fishes." Chris stated, casually crossing to the coffee table, lifting the strips of label. "Vin always picks the label off the bottle when he's about ta tell ya somethin' he figures ya don't particularly wanna hear." He chuckled seeing the shoulders slump in defeat. "Don't worry. Cops wouldn't figure it out. It's only things his friends would notice."

It was time to fold his hand. The game was over but he had to admire Larabee's powers of observation.

"What'd ya do, fold him up and stick him in the air vent?" A image of Vin's face, the jaw clenched, the hand tightening around the beer bottle the blue eyes closing to hide the panic as the panel slid shut flashed through the con man's mind.

Shoving past Larabee Ezra raced for the bedroom. He couldn't keep both promises but he could keep one.

"Ezra?.....Ezra!" Seeing the color drain from the cardsharp's face before he pushed Chris aside, it took the stunned ex-SEAL a moment to recover before hurrying after the smaller man. "Ezra?....The clo-" Larabee's words trailed off as the panel slid aside. "What the hell?"

Tanner leaned casually against a file cabinet facing the door, a wide smile on his face, a pair of fur covered handcuffs dangling from one finger. "Plan on using these for winter arrests Ez?"

His face flushing deep red, Ezra snatched the cuffs, setting them on top of the cabinet before pulling the sharpshooter from the room, and pressing the device sliding the door back into place. "A souvenir of a most memorable evening spent in the company of a beautiful lady."

"Hey Chris."

Larabee raked his eyes over Vin intently as if trying to memorize every strand of hair, every muscle and every shade of blue in the Texan's eyes before wrapping the younger man in a bear hug. Trying to get his emotions under control, Larabee couldn't seem to force his muscles to obey the commands of his mind, tightening their hold on the man who'd come to mean so much rather than releasing him.

"I oughta kick both yer asses." He growled, finally stepping away. "I need a beer."

Ducking his head, a sad smile touched the gambler's lips as the two men headed for the kitchen, Larabee keeping one arm around the sharpshooter's shoulders as if afraid Vin would disappear if he let go.

*******

Larabee snapped the cell phone shut having listened to Buck's report on the search warrants. Leon Bass had already arrived at Chris' by the time Buck got there. They'd searched the outbuildings but were waiting in the driveway for Chris to get home before entering the house.

Not wanting Mason or someone like him anywhere near Tanner, Wilmington, himself, had driven Bass up to Vin's cabin satisfying the detective Vin hadn't been there recently. He'd called the others on the way back assuring himself everyone and everything was fine.

Ezra had sat silently while Tanner filled Chris in on everything since finding the note on the seat of his jeep telling him Davey wanted to meet with the sharpshooter concerning Miguel's death and Larabee had informed them of the little they had discovered.

"Seems your computer was the only thing taken Ezra." Shoving the empty bottle to the middle of the table with the others, Chris was confused by the mischievous smile. "What's he lookin' for Ezra? Better yet what's he gonna find?"

"Telepathy is not among my many talents Mr. Larabee....although if I had to guess I would say he'll have experts search the hard drive for any evidence pertaining to Sandoval or of my helping Mr. Tanner elude the long arm of the law."

"Such as?"

"Such as....airline reservations....fake identification...." Ezra shrugged. "A new background...."

"And just what is he going to find?"

"Would you like another beer?.....Or perhaps something else to eat?"

"Ezra?" Larabee persisted.

"I make a very interesting sandwich."

Vin choked, spewing beer across the table.

Wiping spots of alcohol from his sleeve, Chris continued to watch the gambler as he moved about the room, disposing of the now empty pizza box and filling his coffee cup.

"What....is....he....going....to.....find.....Ezra?" "Perhaps...research on different companies and pieces of property I've considered investing in....a book order from Amazon.....a few bids on some interesting items on Ebay.....My vacation reservations to South America......some downloads of a very promising new...."

"Back up!" Chris barked.

"Research...."

"Not that far."

"Book orders....Bids....vacation plans..."

"That's the one!" The infamous Larabee glare wasn't quite as intimidating with the laughter showing in the hazel eyes. "Just when were you planning on telling me you were going on vacation?"

Another mouthful of beer was spewed across the table at the question.

"Perhaps, Mr. Tanner, I should find rain wear for Mr. Larabee and myself." It was the cardsharp's turn to wipe at the beer spots.

"Sorry Ez....." Vin stared at the table, avoiding meeting their eyes, "'bout everything."

Ezra followed Chris' somber gaze to Vin's hand, the long fingers pealing at the bottle label.

"'Fore Mason got here Chris, I was 'bout ta tell Ez I think I best just turn myself in....Done drug him inta this mess farther than he needs ta be and now......Y'all don't need the trouble...."

"You seriously think we're gonna let you do that?" Chris asked. "Seems ta me, that would be wastin' all Ezra's hard work. We'll be able to work on this better once we know everything the D.A has on you."

"No need to apologize Vin....There is a need however, for you to force down, two more of these medical marvels Mr. Jackson so graciously provided." Standish grinned at Tanner's grimace as he slid the bottle across the table.

"That's something else we're going to discuss Ezra." Larabee warned, "But first,....someone wanna explain to me the room in the closet?"

Ezra tried not to squirm as both men turned their attention to him. "In my previous profession I found it extremely beneficial to have a place in which to store the....shall we say....less than respectable....tools of the trade, in the event of unwanted company. Which reminds me, I must remember to reward Harry for the warning." He glanced at Vin. "His timing is almost as impeccable as yours."

The cardsharp didn't find it necessary to tell the two men, if it hadn't been for the dire circumstances, they wouldn't have known about the room until his lawyer read them his will. He was thankful they hadn't questioned the fact he'd had a room built in a place he rented. He'd never worried about it before, rationalizing that if and when he gave up the apartment the new occupants would never know about the modifications, but Ezra wasn't ready to reveal he'd bought the penthouse shortly after joining Larabee's team.

"And did each of your several residences have such a room?" Chris questioned one of the few times he'd alluded to the file comprised on Ezra since first approaching him about joining his team.

Ezra's smile told Larabee that was all the information he was likely to receive. "If you gentlemen would be so kind as to accompany me."

*******

Apologizing for not having the time to do so earlier, Ezra showed Vin the device for opening the door from inside the small room. Just as Tanner had, Chris unobtrusively studied the contents, hoping for a clue to the man who felt the need for maintaining the room. Vin grit his teeth, sorrow filling his blue eyes at the empty wall above the computer as the southerner lifted several pages from the printer basket, giving them a quick examination before passing them to Chris and typing new commands into the computer.

"What the hell! Ezra these are-"

"I know what they are Mr. Larabee." Ezra didn't look up from the task at hand. "Hopefully, they will provide us with the means to help Mr. Tanner."

*******

"That man never fails to surprise me." Chris shook his head, setting aside the last of the papers Ezra had printed out. "Just when I think I got him figured out...."

Spread on the table between him and Tanner was every piece of evidence the police had in the murder investigation of David Harrison. Standish had hacked into the computers at the police and District Attorneys offices programming his own machine to automatically print out anything pertaining to V. Tanner. or David Harrison.

For a total of thirty seconds, Larabee had considered telling the con man to toss them in the trash knowing the illegal means of obtaining the information. Was it any different than what Chris had ordered JD to do before? Judge Travis had promised to provide them with the needed information. So they now had it a few hours early and probably more than the authorities would be willing to divulge.

More importantly, these papers could provide them the means to clear Vin.

Leaving them to their own devices, Ezra had spent another two hours working in his hidden office before finally noticing the dark circles under the emerald eyes, wondering when the con man had last slept, Larabee ordered him to bed.

"Did ya take a good look at any a the stuff in that room?"

The downcast eyes and slight pink tinge of embarrassment that touched Larabee's tan cheeks told Tanner, Chris had taken the opportunity to try and find out more about the enigmatic southerner.

He'd been surprised to notice most of the books on the shelves were textbooks and had casually examined several framed documents stacked at one end, diplomas from a dozen different colleges under a dozen different aliases.

"A simple memento of my first visit to that magnificent city." Ezra hadn't turned around when without thinking, Chris had shook the cheap plastic snow dome, which looked so out of place next to the expensive camera equipment, the picture inside depicting Las Vegas. "I think I was six at the time."

"Ezra's favorite city." Vin quipped.

At one time possibly, but no longer. It was true Ezra loved the excitement and action of the city. The bright lights illuminating the desert night, the noise of slot machine bells mixing with the squeal of happiness when a vacationing tourist parlayed their quarters into a minor jackpot, gamblers urging the dice to roll the right number or the roulette ball to fall in the right slot but to the gambler's amazement his favorite city was a suburb of Denver. Four Corners. A small city unto itself connected to the metropolis. A tiny town with very little to offer in the way of culture or sophistication but which held everything he treasured. Four Corners. His favorite place on earth for six very important reasons. Figures he'd keep something that had to do with gambling. Six years old. A sadness suddenly washed over Chris thinking how many years the southerner had held on to the tacky souvenir. Most people kept special objects from their childhood, homerun baseballs caught in the outfield stands, school yearbooks, a favorite stuffed toy or special gift from a loved one, yet the only personal memento in the gambler's immaculate apartment other than the picture of Standish and Tanner, Chris had left as a Christmas present, hidden safely away from prying eyes was a cheap object you could pick up in any store along the infamous strip.

"Makes ya wonder what's locked in them filin' cabinets don't it?" Vin smiled as if reading Chris' mind. He wanted to tell Larabee about the pictures but sensed Ezra trusted him not to say anything. Obviously the con man didn't want anyone knowing about the photos and if the situation hadn't demanded it Tanner wouldn't even have known about the hidden room or the photo gallery.

The young con man was a walking mass of contradictions. Around the other men, he was always laughing and smiling, appearing to take only his work seriously, yet they'd all seen the dark somber side of his personality. He seemed to want them to believe he was some heartless bastard who didn't care about anything but himself and money while they all recognized the kindness and acts of generosity he thought no one knew about. Independent and carefree, needing no one yet the pictures so carefully displayed for his eyes only told another story of loneliness, need....and love. Why was it Ezra trusted these men with his life but not his emotions?

"He got any normal food in that fridge?"

*******

"I gotta get outta here Chris.....I can't clear my name sittin' here in..."

"So ya end up in jail cause some traffic cop stops ya...or worse....dead cause some rookie gets trigger happy." Chris growled.

"I done dragged Ezra inta this mess. Got him inta damn near as much trouble as me....and now yer in trouble too.....

"Need I remind ya Mr. Tanner, no one drags me anywhere I don't wish to go...." Ezra staggered into the kitchen to the smell of fresh coffee and fried bacon, his bloodshot eyes giving him an even more haggard look than before Chris had ordered him to sleep. "I could very easily have kicked your skinny ass out the door, just as Mr. Larabee could have walked away last night."

Vin and Larabee exchanged amused glances as the southerner gulped half a cup of the steaming coffee, refilling the mug before making his way to the table, sinking wearily into a chair.

"Damn Ezra ya look like ya been on a week long bender!" Vin hoped the grin and light tone hid his worry at the exhausted appearance of the normally fastidious gambler.

"Thought I told you to get some sleep." Chris growled setting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.

"Actually ya told me to go to bed which I did."

"For how long?" Vin questioned, slipping Scoundrel the last piece of bacon from his own plate.

The green eyes twinkled merrily as Ezra avoided answering by lifting the cup to his lips. "If we can get you past the eyes of the law watching this building, these should make moving about the city a bit safer."

Larabee moved to the table as Vin cautiously reached out picking up several of the plastic cards as if they would bite him. "Ez?..."

"I suggest you memorize the appropriate items, such as birth date, address, social security number."

"I'm afraid to ask where you got these Ezra." Larabee held the driver's license with Vin's picture stating his name as Paul Hunter, seeing the state seal, surprised at being unable to detect any signs of falsification.

"I often found it prudent and profitable in my past life, to be someone other than Ezra Standish as well as beneficial to my health. I assure you gentlemen, this is a perfectly safe persona." There were credit cards, an ATM card, a social security card, an insurance card, as well as a union card identifying Vin as a member in good standing of the SteelWorkers of America. "It was a simple matter of changing the picture on the driver's license. Unfortunately, there was no time to insure they will stand up to the thorough background check I normally entail, but they will easily pass the scrutiny of a traffic officer."

"And what happens when he calls it in?" Chris questioned.

"It will show that other than a speeding ticket three years ago, which he paid, Mr. Paul Hunter has a perfect driving record and is an upstanding citizen of Denver Colorado. Has a very nice little home on the outskirts of town and has worked for Trace Steel for the last seven years."

"A speeding ticket?"

"It might seem a bit suspicious that a man of Mr. Tanner, AKA, Paul Hunter's age, has never broken a traffic law." The con man grinned. "Especially with the way he drives. The credit cards and ATM are active and at your disposal. I assume Mr. Larabee, by the amount of food you are preparing you expect our associates for breakfast."

"No!" Startled by Tanner's outburst, Ezra set the cup aside wiping at the coffee stains on his shirt. Vin pushed his empty plate aside, his blue eyed gaze staring intently at his coffee cup.

"Vin?"

"I'm....."

"Talk to us Vin." Larabee gently squeezed the younger man's shoulder, taking the seat next to him. "Ya know everyone just wants ta help."

"If they know I'm here and they don't tell the cops, they could go ta jail....Don't reckon I got a chance in hell a talkin' you two inta walkin' away but....if they don't know I'm here they can't get in trouble." Tanner argued. "I 'ppreciate everything but....this is my mess and-"

"Mr. Tanner," Ezra spoke up before Chris could say anything. "I apologize for my inability-"

"Ya got nothin' ta apologize for Ez. Ya done nothin' but help...."

"I gave you my word, no one would know you were here, but I hadn't counted on Mr. Larabee's knowledge of pizza...."

Chris chuckled at Vin's expression of confusion. "I'll explain later."

"Mr. Tanner, our compatriots....your friends.....wish nothing more than to help....Just as you would rush to help one of..." The words trailed off as the doorbell chimed. "Seems the point has become moot."

"Shit!"

"Mr. Tanner, why don't we let your friends decide just how deeply involved they wish to become? You can wait out of sight in my room."

Vin scooped up the identification Ezra had provided, as Chris moved to answer the door. "They're your friends too, Ez."

With a small smile, the gambler nodded as Vin hurried from the room. "I know."

*******

Discussing their current unwanted company, now waiting patiently on the street, trailing Larabee into the kitchen, the four men began filling plates with the breakfast Chris had prepared, all wishing Ezra a good morning and commenting on his appearance and their own surprise he was awake this time of the morning. They didn't need to see the dark circles under the bloodshot eyes to know Ezra hadn't been to sleep, his eating before ten in the morning was evidence enough the con man had yet to spend time in his bed.

"So where is he?" Buck asked as they gathered around the table.

"Who might you be inquiring about Mr. Wilmington?"

"Vin!" JD looked around in exasperation. "Who else would he be talkin' about?"

"And just why would you assume Mr. Tanner to be...."

"Don't assume it Ez," Buck grinned. "We know it!"

Chris shrugged, doing a passable job of feigning innocence as they all followed Ezra's gaze to the blond leader of their team.

"Look Ez....There's six a us sittin' here, but there's seven plates on the table so unless ya done taught Scoundrel," Buck tossed the tiny animal a piece of sausage, "to use a knife and fork, Vin's here."

"As a matter of fact, Scoundrel is becoming quite proficient with a spoon, we'll try a fork next." Ezra flashed a dimpled smile. "Do you see Mr. Tanner anywhere in the vicinity?"

"Chris?"

"Leave me out of it." Larabee threw his hands up in surrender sensing Buck's next move and not about to give the game away.

Wilmington pulled out his wallet tossing a bill in the middle of the table. "I got fifty bucks says he's here."

"I got twenty." Josiah and JD stared at the doctor in surprise. "Unless he's runnin' the streets barefoot or borrowed a pair a Ezra's fancy loafers he's here.....His boots are in by the couch."

Chris chuckled as the preacher and kid scrambled to add their money to the pot. He wanted to get to work but knew the men needed a bit of diversion. They were all worried about Vin and hopefully this would lighten the burden if only for a few moments.

Ezra studied the four men, his emerald gaze traveling to the money and back to their faces. Larabee could almost see the wheels turning in that quick conniving mind. "Gentlemen, you are welcome to survey my home, one time and one time only....if you see Mr. Tanner in that time I will happily double your money."

"Looks like a damn scavenger hunt." Larabee laughed as the four pushed from the table each taking a different direction.

Ezra rose, calmly making his way to the master bedroom putting on a grand show of blocking the closed door as the others having searched every other room, closet or any area large enough to hold the slender Texan converged on the room.

"Mr. Wilmington, I have allowed you access to every other part of my home. Will you not take my word you are wasting your time and energy and will not see Mr. Tanner in my bedroom?"

"Not when money's involved Ezra." Buck grinned as he and Josiah each took an arm moving the young con artist away from the door long enough for JD to throw the barrier open.

Chris chuckled as the four men searched every corner of the room attached bath and walk in closet.

"Satisfied?" His poker face in place, Ezra waited until the four men had exited the room before depressing the lever in the closet and following them back to the kitchen.

"If you're finished playing hide and seek can we get down to work?" Larabee growled.

"Damn! I was so sure he was here." Buck sighed ignoring Chris as Ezra collected the money, stacking it next to his cup. "You do know where he's at though don'tcha?"

Ezra looked from Buck to Chris and receiving a nod from his boss, leaned back in his chair, running a thumb over his bottom lip, phrasing his next words carefully. "At this moment Mr. Wilmington, I can say in all honesty, I truly don't know where Mr. Tanner's exact location. I have however spoken with our friend..."

"Is he okay, Ezra?"

"Other than being accused of a crime he didn't commit....."

"You seen him Chris?" Buck turned his attention to his oldest friend.

"Yep."

"Mr. Larabee and myself have given our word not to divulge our young friend's whereabouts....He considers it horrendous enough at having unintentionally involved the two of us and doesn't wish any of you to suffer the consequences of knowingly aiding and-"

"He's part of our family!" Josiah roared. "He needs our help and he's gonna get it, consequences be damned!"

"According to that detective, he might have been hurt," Nathan spoke up. "I for one would feel alot better if I could see for myself he was alright. If it means goin' to jail, then that's fine with me."

"Me too!" JD interjected. "He'd do it for us! Ya tell him Ezra!...Ya tell him we're involved whether he likes it or not!"

"How bad was he hurt Ezra?"

"Wasn't nothin' Nathan." Vin said quietly, stepping into the kitchen, stunning the four men with his sudden appearance. "Ezra fixed me up real good."

"Told ya he was here!" Buck laughed, reaching for the money, only to have the con artist snatch it away. "We won Ezra! Fork over that money."

"On the contrary Mr. Wilmington, if you will recall, I said you win, if you saw him on the one and only inspection of my home....You didn't!"

"Chris!"

"He's got ya Buck!" Larabee grinned, relieved Vin had decided to let the others help. He'd been afraid the sharpshooter's protective instinct would eventually tear the team apart, instilling in the four a feeling he didn't trust them. "That was the condition."

"Mr. Tanner, I'm sure this will come in handy." Ezra shoved the money into the tracker's hand as Nathan ushered him to a chair, examining the wound in his bicep and changing the bandage. "No arguments."

"He's right Ezra. Ya did a real fine job." His poker face firmly in place, the gambler nodded at Nathan's compliment rising to refill his and Tanner's coffee cup as Chris passed around the sheets he and Vin had examined the night before, issuing assignments to each of the men.

"Vin ya sure ya don't know this Angelina Valdez?" Josiah asked reading over the eyewitness statement.

"Don't think I ever even heard a her before."

"So as far as we know, she'd have no reason to lie."

"She is lyin'!" Tanner retorted defensively.

"I know that Vin." Josiah smiled reassuringly. "My point was that we need to find out why she's lying."

"Even if we prove she's lyin' how do we explain the gun?" JD looked at each of the older men, suddenly feeling he was in over his head.

"Acquiring a firearm is quite simple Mr. Dunne."

"But accordin' to this it was registered to Vin." They all knew the tracker didn't own a thirty-eight.

"Good point." Buck muttered. "Ya need ta show ID."

"As Mr. Tanner has recently learned that is almost as easy to acquire as a gun."

"According to the report Vin used his own gun...registered to him....left it at the scene but took the time to wipe all the fingerprints off it." Wilmington shook his head. "Even a first day rookie would find that strange."

"All the evidence points to a well thought out frame." The cardsharp scrubbed a hand over his face, stifling a yawn. "Mr. Tanner, I have one request of you....If you for some unthinkable and inexplicit reason, end up arrested for this appalling act, say absolutely nothing..."

"I know my rights Ez." Vin forced a laugh trying to make light of the situation.

"Nothing Mr. Tanner. Let it go to trial."

"What the hell are you talking about Ezra!" Chris snarled, fighting the growing anger. Was Standish actually suggesting they not try to clear Vin?

"Mr. Larabee, sir, there is a method to my madness. I wasn't exaggerating when I said told Mason I had the best lawyer in Colorado on retainer. I guarantee if this abominable miscarriage of justice goes to trial, Vin will walk out of the courtroom a free man." The gambler searched the papers in front of each man finally pulling the copies of the warrants from a pile in front of Nathan. "Did any of you happen to read these?"

"We all read em." Nathan remarked disgustedly. Sometimes the southerner could be as exasperating and incomprehensible as a double talking politician at a press conference. "So?"

A mischievous grin crossed the gambler's face as he focused on the sharpshooter. "Mr. Tanner would you please state your name."

"Vin Tanner." Vin shrugged looking at others as if the lack of sleep had finally put the con man over the edge.

"Your full name, if you please."

"Vinton Tanner!"

"What the hell are you getting at Standish." Larabee struggled to hold onto his quickly fading patience.

"Read this Mr. Larabee." Ezra continued to grin shoving the copy of the arrest warrant at him.

"Ezra...." As if realizing he was fighting a losing battle, Chris snagged the offered paper and began reading aloud, the dark look on his handsome face giving way to his own growing smile as he reached the most important part of the document. ".....Arrest of Vincent Tanner on the charge of first degree murder."

"What?!" Buck snatched the paper wanting to personally verify what everyone except Standish had missed. "I'll be damned!"

"That Mr. Tanner is why I requested your absolute silence. I feared someone would correct the misguided constabulary regarding Vin's moniker. If it goes to trial at the very least it is a guaranteed mistrial as all evidence gathered under those legal documents could easily be suppressed."

"You sneaky son of a...." Nathan laughed, clapping the gambler on the shoulder good- naturedly. "That fancy high priced education a yours comes in real handy sometimes."

Thinking of the diplomas on the shelf, Larabee was sure he saw a streak of shame cross the gambler's face before the mask fell once more into place.

*******

An hour and two pots of coffee later, the seven men had searched out and discussed every discrepancy in the state's case, each deciding how to best put their individual talents to use.

"So how do we get him outta here?" JD asked. It had been agreed, Vin had the best shot at discovering who Angelina Valdez was and what motive she would have for falsifying testimony. While the honest citizens of Purgatorio would want to help Vin they would be leery of talking to outsiders, even the young sharpshooter's friends. "We could sneak him out in Ezra's car."

"Unfortunately, even Mason isn't incompetent enough not to think of having someone stationed in the garage." Chris muttered.

"So what do we do, float him off the patio in a hot air balloon?" Buck quipped when the suggested and rejected ideas had dwindled.

"Nooooo," the mischievous smile returned bringing dimples to the southerner's handsome face, "we walk him right out the front door."

"Sleep deprivation." Nathan muttered as the others exchanged wary looks, this time certain the con man had completely lost his mind.

"I guarantee he won't be given a second look."

*******

"Vin," At a loss for a diplomatic way to say what he wanted, Ezra busied himself straightening the collar of the dark colored blazer and tucking the sharpshooter's shoulder length hair down the back of the turtle neck, giving him the appearance of a much shorter cut. "Vin, I want cha to promise me,.....I want cha....." Damn! why was this so hard? He knew the ex-bounty hunter needed to concentrate on what had to be done, not worry about what ifs....but Ezra needed him to worry about at least one 'what if.' "Vin, if Mason catches you.....Don't do anything.....Don't give him the slightest reason to think you're gonna resist......"

"Ez..."

"He'll kill ya Vin...." He met the blue eyes steadily. "He won't hesitate. He'll kill ya."

Tanner nodded giving the gambler a reassuring smile and stepping back for the shorter man's seal of approval.

"That would be your escort." Ezra announced as the door chimed. "It's not exactly the cover of GQ but you'll do. There's a car reserved for Paul Hunter at the airport rental agency. It shouldn't but if it comes up you just arrived on flight 423." Dressed in jeans, a white turtleneck shirt and the dark blazer, he could pass for a man out running errands, taking care of business or spending the day with his favorite woman.

They entered the living room to find Larabee talking to a tall voluptuous brunette, her short skirt exhibiting long shapely legs, the low cut blouse leaving little to the imagination.

"Good thing Buck ain't here, we'd never get outta the apartment." Vin gave the gambler a lopsided grin.

"The other reason I sent them on their way." Ezra chuckled. The other four men had left moments earlier, taking their shadows of the law with them. Using high-powered binoculars from the rooftop patio, Ezra and Chris had both checked the street, spotting only Mason and Bass and the team following Larabee watching the building. "Christina, I see you've met Mr. Larabee and this is my friend Paul Hunter."

He'd called the young woman who lived three floors down explaining he had a friend who needed a ride to the airport and due to an unavoidable meeting Ezra couldn't take him. He hated the thought of putting his guest into a cab and was hoping....Of course she'd be happy to do Ezra and his friend a favor.

"Finish your coffee, Paul, I'm afraid we have to go but I'll see you when you get back."

Grabbing his jacket and following Ezra out the door, Larabee stifled a chuckle at the momentary look of panic on his shy friend's face as the friendly female latched onto the sharpshooter's arm. Standish had told Vin to give them a five minute head start before leaving.

"Sure hope ya know what you're doin' Standish."

'Me too.' Ezra was certain there was a veiled threat in Larabee's mumbled utterance as they exited the elevator and crossed the lobby.

"Good morning Mr. Standish."

"Harry." Ezra handed the doorman several bills taking the carry out bag. "There's something extra for you and Henry. My appreciation for your vigilance."

"Not necessary Mr. Standish." The man waved the money away. Harry and his brother Henry shared the doorman duties and the small basement apartment that came with the job. A year earlier, Harry had suffered a mild stroke and Ezra had paid for home care when the insurance ran out. It was supposed to be from an anonymous donor but being the expert doormen they were, the brothers knew most of what was happening in their building and it hadn't taken them long to ferret out the identity of their benefactor.

"Ezra what are you up too?" Chris called, startled when instead of turning in the direction of Larabee's parked truck, Ezra started across the street, angling toward Mason's car.

"Detective Mason." Passing the bag through the open window, Standish leaned down, nodding at the other occupant of the car and resting both palms on the doorframe effectively blocking the detectives' view of the front door. "Thought ya might appreciate some coffee and croissants. They're healthier than donuts and quite delicious."

His heart pounding in his chest, concentrating on keeping the stoic mask in place, Chris, inconspicuously glanced at the officers in the other car as Vin exited the building, Christina still firmly attached to his arm.

"I will be riding with Mr. Larabee today," Ezra continued, his eyes never straying from Mason's face. "Having been under the weather lately, he thought it best if I didn't drive and since he was concerned enough to spend the night watching over me, I will accede to his wishes....for now."

"I don't know what the fuck you're up to Standish but-"

"Your skepticism of my purely selfless motives wounds me deeply, Detective Mason....I was simply supplying nourishment and trying to offer my co-operation to you hardworking officers saving you both time and manpower."

"Let's go Ezra." Chris ordered as Mason threw open the door stepping into the street.

"Your friend," Mason spat the word contemptuously, "killed that kid. He shot him down like a dog and he's gonna pay for it. You're in this up to your neck Standish and I'm gonna prove it!

"I said let's go!" Larabee gripped the young gambler's arm pulling him away from the infuriated lawman.

"I laugh just thinkin' about how much I'm gonna enjoy it when ya get what's comin' to ya!" Mason called after the retreating figures.

"If you like, Mason, I'll send ya a copy of our itinerary." Ezra taunted, over his shoulder as Chris ushered him toward the black pickup.

"Always have to have the last word don't ya Ezra."

"Of course." The con man grinned.

Larabee was learning to read the enigmatic cardsharp and saw him visibly relax with the distance separating him from Mason. Still gripping his arm, Larabee felt the small tremor that raced through the younger man's body as if the fear he'd held in check when facing his nemesis was released through the tense muscles. As if proving his point, Ezra gave the other team of officers a small wave as Chris unlocked the passenger door.

"I assume Mr. Hunter reached his destination safely."

"Yeah,....How come she don't park in your building's garage?"

"She does in inclement weather, however, the lovely Christina greatly enjoys the attention she receives on the short walk to the pay garage down the street." He laughed buckling the seat belt as Chris pulled into traffic. "I told you he wouldn't be given a second glance."

*******

"Wanna tell me about it?" Chris glanced at the weary form of his undercover agent, slumped in the passenger seat, his head back, his eyes closed. Of the six men who comprised Larabee's elite team, the man sitting at his side was the most private when it came to sharing any part of his past. They all had their demons, things they didn't want to face in the dark privacy of their own thoughts, let alone have those demons brought out into the light of day, put on display for scrutiny by their friends and each of the men respected that but there were times when simply talking helped....something Ezra hadn't yet come to realize.

The con man played his cards close to the vest, keeping a tight rein on his emotions and guarding his heart with the vigilance of the secret service. As cocky and confident as he appeared there was a vulnerability and innocence about the gambler that few people saw. Ezra still thought of himself as an outsider, willing to remain on the fringes of the unique group just to be with them. Vulnerability and innocence, the southerner would have scoffed hearing those adjectives used in conjuncture with him.

Larabee knew when Ezra opened up, even slightly it was most likely to Vin, although Josiah had drawn him out on a few occasions. But neither of them were available and Chris hoped Ezra would come to realize he was just as important, that Chris cared just as much for the wily southerner as he did for the others. He wanted Ezra to feel secure enough of his place on the team, but he'd be satisfied if the gambler was just to exhausted to hold up the walls and would to talk to his boss.

"Just what is it you would like me to tell you about?"

"Let's start with whatever's goin' on between you and Mason."

"Were you not listening Mr. Larabee? He believes Vin murdered Harrison." Ezra had yet to open his eyes. "I do believe he thinks if he applies enough pressure I will roll over and give up Mr. Tanner to save my own sorry ass."

"Doesn't know ya very well does he?" Smiling, Chris kept his eyes on the road, as the gambler jerked upright, the poker face totally forgotten at the older man's comment. With a sidelong glance Larabee could see suspicion enter the green eyes, as Ezra tried to decide the meaning behind the remark. Damnit! Did the man have to search for hidden motives in every word. Had Chris been such an ass as to make the cardsharp even question a compliment, backhanded or not. "Reckon he don't know how stubborn ya can be.....or how loyal ya are to your friends."

"I'm afraid I displayed the true meaning of obstinence the first time Mason and I met." Ezra lay his head back and closed his eyes once again. "You know Mr. Larabee you might talk to the judge about dispensing with our current company. I assume you would like for Mr. Sanchez to work as backup for Vin in case the Diablo's come to the realization he is back and asking questions."

"Am I that predictable?"

"Only about some things." Standish smiled. "The judge's help in this matter would be greatly beneficial. I can't exactly work my way back into Mr. Richmond's good graces if I have to explain why two of Denver's finest are watching my every move."

"Good point.....And you're trying to change the subject."

"Am I that predictable?"

"Only about some things." Chris grinned throwing the gambler's words back at him. If he could help it, the master of misdirection wasn't going to lead him away from the topic he wished to discuss. "I'm not going to force you to tell me Ezra, but, I'd still like to know the history between you and Mason."

"I give you my word Mr. Larabee I won't allow that history to hurt Vin."

"That's not what I was worried about!" Anger surging through his veins, Chris jerked the wheel pulling the truck off the side of the road and shut off the engine. He sat for a long tense moment, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, his eyes closed taking several deep breaths.

"Are you alright Mr. Larabee?"

"Fine. Just tryin' ta keep from draggin' ya outta this truck and kickin' some sense inta your stubborn southern soul." He suddenly whirled in the seat to face the startled con man. "Damnit Ezra! Do you think Vin's the only one we care about?.....I care about all a ya....I worry about all a ya.....Whether ya believe it or not, I probably worry about you the most."

"There is no need for concern Mr. Larabee," Chris was surprised by the anger in the emerald eyes. "When you offered me this position, I told you I run if it is the only and most prudent solution at the time. I thought I had proved-"

"I ain't worried about ya runnin' out on us ya pig headed idiot!" Tossing the seatbelt aside, Larabee stepped from the truck, slamming the door. Chris paced in front of the vehicle, raking a hand through his blond hair, ignoring the black car sitting several yards away.

Why was it he had such a hard time communicating with the con man who had joined his team to do the undercover work? Chris understood why Ezra did his best to keep the other men at arms length. You couldn't be hurt by people if you weren't emotionally involved. When he'd agreed to the judge's proposal Chris had been determined this was just a job. These men would be people he worked with and nothing more. Even after three years the pain of his family's deaths was too raw. He wouldn't take the chance on losing anyone else he cared about and the best way to do that was not to care.

That determination had gone the way of the dinosaur when a young independent bounty hunter with blue eyes full of pain and loneliness had stepped in front of his truck and the fun loving pilot who'd stood by Larabee's side through hell re-entered his life. The healing had begun and with each of these six unique men he had found himself a new family.

Why couldn't he make the verbose cardsharp believe he was just as important to Larabee as Vin, Buck or any of the others? Each time he thought they'd knocked a brick out of the wall Ezra built to protect himself, the obstinate southerner added two. Larabee had hoped after that whole fiasco with Tally that Ezra would come to see just how important he truly was to them. Chris told himself he'd never pushed the gambler, out of respect for his privacy but now he wasn't sure if that was the truth or just the easy way out. By allowing Ezra to keep them away emotionally, he'd given the con man the idea Chris still didn't trust him.

"Are we ready to proceed Mr. Larabee?" Ezra questioned as the man climbed behind the wheel.

"Not in the way you mean." Chris pulled a cheroot from his pocket, taking his time lighting the thin cigar before turning to face the smaller man again. "Ezra when I said I worried about you the most, I didn't mean.....I worry because you keep everything locked inside yourself....You're so damn independent unless it's job related you won't let us help you.....Reminds me of when I first met Vin....pulled a gun on me rather than accept help..." He chuckled at both the memory and the gambler's surprised expression. "Reminds me alot of me too.....For a long time, I shut everybody out.....The point is Ezra, ya need ta learn just like Vin did,....just like I did....that we all need help once in a while....It's nothin' to be ashamed of. You're not alone anymore Ezra....None of us are.....We're a team both on the job and off. Relying on other people doesn't make you weak....In our case, it seems to make the seven of us stronger."

Standish stared out the window, vaguely aware of the black car in the side mirror, struggling to get his emotions under control, wanting to defy a lifetime of training. He wanted to ignore everything his mother had taught him and everything he knew to be true.

According to Miss Nettie, the time Ezra had been presumed dead had almost destroyed the team and each of its members. They had stayed by his side through the long recovery, showing their love, friendship and support. They hadn't pushed, hadn't asked him for more than he could give and had asked nothing in return except that he let them be there.

He wanted to believe these men would accept him and care about him regardless of his past. He wanted to believe he could trust these men with his heart as well as his life, just as they appeared to trust him but he was all too aware appearances could be deceiving. The best cons were nothing but mere facades, designed to lull the mark into a sense of security. "I was seventeen the first time I met Mason. He had just made detective....working Vice and hell bent on makin' a name for himself." Ezra continued to stare out the window. If they tossed him aside, left him to fend for himself once again, at least they would have enough information to protect Vin against the vindictive detective and that in itself was worth the risk. "Ya had two choices if he thought ya was breakin' the law.....Go ta jail or.....work for him....." "Grafts?" "Not in the way you mean.....Ya paid him off with information. Had a nice racket goin', everybody provided info on everybody else. His arrest record got him recognition and commendations from his bosses and because he already knew what they knew, most people couldn't even plea bargain." "And if ya refused?" Knowing the stubborn gambler, Ezra had told the cop in explicit detail where to go and had given him instructions on how to get there. "If he wanted to know somethin' ya better have the answers or know where to find them." "And if ya refused?" Chris repeated.

"To put it in his words, he taught ya a lesson ya wouldn't soon forget.....Most didn't refuse."

"But you did."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because you're you." Chris grinned, forcing a light tone to his answer, fearing the southerner would mistake his building rage as being directed at him. "Ya probably dug in your heels and spit in his eye."

"Close." Ezra's smile faded. "So he decided I was due a lesson in what happens when you don't do things his way."

"What kinda lesson?"

"He left me for dead in an alley....Beat me so bad I was in the hospital for almost three weeks." Larabee's furious gaze focused on the reflection of the black car still sitting watching the truck as a small tremor raced through the gambler's body.

"You tell anyone?"

Ezra turned to look at the man who had given him a chance at the life he'd always wanted but feared. "You." The gaze dropped to his hands. "Who would I tell? It would have been the word of a respected cop against a kid hustlin' three card Monte for a livin'......Vin ever tell you about Jamie Watson?"

"His partner when he was on the force...Killed in the line of duty." Larabee's knowledge came from Vin's personnel file.

"Jamie was one of the good guys....He kinda watched over everyone....." Chris' thoughts jumped to the file, Vin had given him on Ezra. "A lot like Vin....and the rest of you....."

"And you." Chris quickly added, not surprised by the shrug of disbelief.

"He came to visit every day. Didn't tell him but he always suspected it was Mason. Heard he confronted him even. After that Mason backed off a little....I got out of the hospital and hit the road for a warmer climate....Didn't come back for a couple years."

"Surprised ya come back at all." Seeing the hands clench and realizing how the words sounded, Chris lay a gentle hand on Ezra's shoulder hoping to erase the hurt. "Don't know if I would have."

"Then he'd a won." The simple statement spoke volumes. They all knew Ezra hated to lose. "No matter what Chris, you can't let him get anywhere near Vin. He's ruthless and he doesn't give a damn about the law.....He thinks Vin's guilty and that's good enough for him....My being associated with Mr. Tanner only makes matters worse."

Chris gave the slender shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Ezra lay his head back and closed his eyes again, before starting the engine and pulling back into traffic. Fury burned through his veins as he glanced from the man at his side to the rearview mirror, seeing Mason's vehicle several car lengths back.

'Payback's are hell Mason and you're about to meet the devil himself!'

*******

Vin smiled when the rental agent handed him the paperwork on the vehicle Ezra had reserved....A black Ford pickup truck. He'd thought for sure Ezra would have picked some fancy sports car. Man was full of surprises. Tanner had owned three vehicles in his life, the jeep, his beloved Harley and the slightly battered but still dependable green pickup parked at Larabee's ranch. He still owned and drove all three.

Using the money, Ezra had given him from the bet, Tanner stopped at a thrift store and bought a duffel bag and a couple changes of clothes before checking into an economy motel.

Tossing the bag into the chair, he flopped onto the bed and turned on the television. Might as well catch a nap. He'd hit the streets after dark.

*******

"Hey Chris, I just talked..." Nathan's words dropped to a whisper, trailing off completely seeing the con man curled up asleep on the small sofa in Larabee's office. "Why's he sleeping in here."

"Cause he's tired." Larabee chuckled at the look of exasperation his answer brought to the doctor's face. Waiting for the results of Chris' conversation with Judge Travis, the physical and emotional weariness had finally caught up with him dragging Ezra down into the oblivion of much needed sleep. Easing him into a more comfortable position, Chris had sent JD to the small apartment, the team kept down the hall for a pillow and blanket.

"Why didn't ya put him into one of the beds in the clinic where he'd be comfortable? Or at least in the apartment."

"Since when has he ever been comfortable in the clinic and I didn't put him in the apartment cause he's fine right where he is." Chris sensed Ezra needed to feel the safety of having the others nearby. "You just talked to who?"

"What?"

"You said you just talked to...."

"Oh," Nathan pulled his attention back to his boss. "You're not gonna believe this....I just took a call from Detective Bass....Wants to meet with you. Said if you could he'd be waiting at Cooley's about nine."

"Say what he wants?"

"Just that it was important." As Chris rocked back in the chair, Nathan resisted the urge to feel Ezra's forehead when the con man released a barely audible moan, shifting about before settling again. The mystifying gambler with his questionable ethics, high falootin' vocabulary, cocky attitude and apparent lack of morals more often than not had the healer ready to wring his neck, yet he'd found himself caring about the cardsharp just as if the same blood ran through their veins.

"He's not sick Nathan, just wore out." Chris smiled seeing the worry in the dark man's eyes. "Find out anything on the gun registration."

"Dana's chicken it out. Said she'd call as soon as she had anything." The doctor wearily massaged the back of his neck. "JD did find somethin' interestin'.....Seems Angelina has a rap sheet.... prostitution."

Larabee's hazel gaze jumped to the sleeping gambler. "Have him pull the files. I wanna know who the arresting officer was." Chris stopped him at the door. "I'll tell him. You stay here till I get back." He kept his voice quiet not wanting to awaken Ezra. "I gotta talk to Buck....Ezra's alright. I just don't want him wakin' up alone."

*******

Sipping the coffee, Ezra studied the file spread before him, his mind searching for holes in the story he was preparing. The con man had always been able to think on his feet, coming up with a plausible answer to most any question but he firmly believed in being prepared, thereby avoiding any unexpected and potentially dangerous situations.

Realizing the incessant flipping of the television channels had finally stopped, the gambler glanced up as Buck crossed the kitchen, pulling a beer from the refrigerator before resting his folded arms across the back of the chair he straddled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"I'm not hungry thank you but feel free to use the phone." Ezra stacked the papers slipping them back into the folder. He'd call Richmond in the morning. It more than likely would do no good, other than keeping Chris from being a liar to Judge Travis. That afternoon, Orrin had pulled strings and gotten the surveillance teams removed, agreeing with Larabee they couldn't do their jobs if under the watchful eye of the Denver PD He knew one of those jobs, the most imperative job, was clearing Vin Tanner. "Exactly why are you here, Mr. Wilmington?"

"Beats me. Chris just called and asked me to meet him here." Buck shrugged. Larabee had pulled the amiable pilot aside at the office asking him to stop by Ezra's shortly after Larabee dropped him off. He was to stay with the gambler until Chris returned. Nothing was to be said, but until this mess was cleared up he didn't want the undercover operative alone.

"So where is our illustrious leader?"

"Said he had to see someone and he'd be by afterwards."

"And your young protege'?"

"Had a date. He was gonna cancel but I figured it would help take his mind off Vin for a few hours." Wilmington glanced at his watch. "If he's learned anything from the master, right now him and Casey are-"

"Never mind!" The fun loving man laughed as Ezra interrupted holding up a hand to stop Buck's description. "I hope the boy realizes he's taking his very life in his hands....Miss Nettie'll shoot him."

"How 'bout Chinese?"

"Have I suddenly stopped speaking English?"

"Ya gotta eat Ez. Ya ain't had nothin' but coffee since breakfast." Buck argued. The womanizer saw the flush of pink in the gambler's cheeks in embarrassment, as the memory of waking up in Larabee's office, curled on the small sofa, a pillow placed under his head and a blanket tucked around him like a small child, washed over him. "Ya know if I tell Nathan ya ain't eatin' he'll be all over ya like flies on shit. Probably drag your ass into the clinic for a full exam."

With a grimace, a shudder of dread coursing through him at the thought of entering the doctor's clinic, Ezra reached for the phone just as it began to ring. Buck watched, surprised to see the poker face fall into place before the gambler thanked the doorman, informing him to expect a delivery for the penthouse of Chinese takeout.

Asking Buck to wait in the kitchen, Ezra passed him the cordless and moved to meet his guest at the door.

*******

Josiah sat in the van, his eyes scanning the street before returning to the slender man slouched against the side of the building in what appeared to be nothing more than a casual conversation with one of the teens from the neighborhood. He'd been watching Vin for the last three hours as the younger man moved unobtrusively through the streets of Purgatorio, hanging back as not to be noticed by observers, yet close enough to keep Tanner safe if the sharpshooter ran into trouble.

The preacher sat up straighter, his senses on alert as the youth hurriedly scurried down the street and Vin slid into the darkened doorway of an ancient apartment building.

"Don't do it Vin.....Let it go." Josiah urged as several young men proudly displaying the Diablo colors passed the building He shook his head in futility as Vin slipped from the shadows, his steps silent as he followed the group. Unnecessarily checking the clip, Josiah re-holstered the weapon before starting the engine and easing the car slowly down the street.

*******

Ordering a beer, Chris stood at the bar, surveying the small crowd. Satisfied he seemed to be drawing no undue attention, he crossed to where Leon sat alone in a booth at the back, the nearest tables empty.

"Mr. Larabee." The officer nodded in greeting. "Thanks for coming."

"Detective." Larabee slid into the booth, pulling the small object JD had devised, laying it on the table between them.

"What's that?"

"Just something to reassure me we're the only ones involved in this conversation."

"Believe me I don't want anyone else hearing what I have to say."

"So what's this about?" Chris finally asked when Leon continued to stare at the glass in front of him. Lighting one of the thin cigars, he studied the man sitting opposite him. Bass, seemed the total opposite of his partner. There was none of the hardness or bitterness that oozed from every pore of Mason's body. In his early thirties, the young detective hadn't developed the cynicism that often accompanied his job.

Buck had said Bass, with every legal right to force the door and enter Chris' ranch house hadn't used that authority, respecting the man's privacy and property preferring to wait until someone arrived to let them into the house.

"I've asked around, people say you're a good guy and can be trusted.....Figure Judge Travis wouldn't go to bat for someone he didn't believe in...." Bass paused, lighting a cigarette. His fingers nervously fiddled with the silver lighter, his dark eyes scanning the room much as Chris had done moments earlier before meeting Larabee's hazel gaze. "Something isn't right about all this, Mr. Larabee."

"Meaning?"

"I don't think Tanner killed that guy...at least not the way Mason figures it happened."

Chris remained silent. The officer obviously thought what he had to say was important enough to seek out Larabee yet he could see the internal struggle taking place. He was not only talking about an ongoing case with someone outside the department but that someone was the suspect's closest friend. Most law enforcement agencies had heard the rumors of a newly formed task force formed to assist in the apprehension of the worst elements of the crime world but unless they had worked with the team, it was only rumors. Depending on who you asked Larabee's team was everything from a computer engineering firm to private investigators who mainly worked corporate security.

"There's too many inconsistencies." Bass motioned the waitress for two more drinks. Again Chris remained silent, hoping Leon would reveal something that wasn't in the reports. "I don't know if you've talked to Tanner," quickly adding before Larabee could reply, "and I don't wanna know.....What I do know is that something stinks about this whole thing...."

Larabee listened as the officer described the scene in the alley when he and Mason arrived. Except for Angelina there was no one else present yet the evidence indicated several people had been at the scene before the police arrived. According to the young detective there were scratches on the walls left by ricocheting bullets and they'd bagged more than a few shell casings but Mason had insisted they weren't important. Purgatorio was a regular firing range when it came to gunplay.

Bass had questioned the fresh blood found at the opposite end of the alley, the evidence Vin may have been injured. According to Mason's scenario Harrison had either gotten off a shot as Tanner was running away or the sharpshooter had been injured while struggling for the gun. "There was only one shot fired from the gun, no gunpowder residue on Harrison's hands and the witness says Tanner shot him from a few feet away. One shot only....so how...if Tanner was hurt....did it happen?"

"And you pointed this out to Mason?"

"Yeah, he says there's no proof the blood was Tanner's."

"Did you tell any of this to your Captain?" Chris knew nothing had gone in the reports given to the DA

"Look....Mr. Larabee..."

"Chris."

"Mason's the senior officer....Hell, I've only been with Homicide for a couple of months....You know enough about this job to know, unless you plan on kissin' your career goodbye, you don't go against the blue wall....You especially don't go against your partner." Bass lit another cigarette. "I joined the force because I wanted to help people. Give the victims some justice and put the bad guys in jail....the whole sentimental schpeal...."

"So what do you want from me....Vindication for hunting down a innocent man while a murderer goes free?" Chris snarled seeing anger flare in the dark eyes. He wanted to make the officer angry. Wanted him angry enough to override his natural instincts for self-preservation. He sensed Bass had the courage to do what he thought was right no matter the personal cost. There was another reason Bass wanted to talk to Chris. Something he was having second thoughts about. "You're sittin' here tellin me ya think Vin's innocent but he's gonna go to jail anyway because Mason's the senior officer and what am I supposed to say....Don't worry about it....Ain't gonna happen!.....It's your conscience, so live with it!"

"I ain't askin' for your forgiveness or justification!"

"Then what do you want?"

"Thought you might wanna help prove he's innocent." Bass snapped in irritation.

"We're gonna prove it." Larabee growled. "Don't know what ya've heard about me, don't really care, but one thing ya should know Tanner's not only my friend he's part of my family and nobody gets away with hurtin' one a mine." He leaned forward crossing his forearms on the table. "Ya don't need my help provin' anything. From whatcha just said, ya got enough reasonable doubt to take to the DA so ya wanna stop wastin' my time and tell me the real reason I'm here?"

Bass continued to fiddle with the lighter, his drink, the cigarette pack and anything else that happened to be within reach of his nervous fingers. "It ain't just this investigation....It's Mason.....This whole thing's hinky...When Mason saw the name Standish on Tanner's list of known associates, it was like.....He was suddenly possessed or something....The look in his eyes scared the hell outta me. Still ain't figured out where he come up with the intell on Tanner." The officer downed half the drink and with a sigh of defeat slouched in the seat. "I think Mason's.....dirty...."

"Tell me."

"It's just speculation really.....Things I've overheard.....The way people react around him....even other cops.....Mason's a bigot, at least when it comes to people who aren't cops....He don't give a damn about most people, especially those livin' in Purgatorio. Figures they're worthless and ain't none of 'em worth the bullet it would take to put 'em outta their misery...his words not mine...Says the best thing that could happen would be if they all killed each other off, but all of a sudden he's crazed about this gang member bein' murdered....Just doesn't make sense.....I don't know maybe he's not dirty....Maybe he's just fuckin' nuts....." Bass gazed at Larabee in earnest. "Either way, I can't go to anyone without irrefutable proof....If I'm wrong just the smell of scandal would ruin his career and I might as well resign cause ain't no one gonna wanna partner with me afterwards."

Chris realized what Bass needed....what he wanted...was to know someone would watch his back.

"If I get the proof....will you take it to Judge Travis?"

"No." Larabee smiled, raising his beer in a toast. "We'll take it the judge."

They talked for another hour, laying plans and discussing the case against Vin before Chris rose to leave, handing Bass his card.

"Chris....I wasn't exaggerating when I said Mason seemed obsessed.....I'd watch out for your friend Standish."

"I watch out for all my friends." Larabee smiled, pleased when after a moment's hesitation, Bass shook his extended hand.

*******

Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, Ezra opened the door to allow his current nemesis access to his sanctuary. "What do you want this time Mason?"

"Just a friendly visit." With a heavy hand, the detective pushed the smaller man aside and strolled through the foyer to the living room.

"Do you happen to have a warrant this time as well?"

"Don't need one." Mason sneered, wandering about the room, lifting and examining expensive objects he'd been warned against touching the last time he was in the apartment. He studied the picture of Ezra and Vin for a long moment. "Got a few questions."

"A simple phone call would have sufficed. I would have been more than happy to come down to the station." Ezra crossed to the bar, pouring himself a drink. "So ask your questions."

"We got plenty a time....." His heart beating rapidly, despising himself for the fear that twisted his insides, Ezra forced himself not to move as the large man crossed the room. "Figure we'd do some catchin' up first."

"I don't think so." The con man was surprised to find his voice was remarkably steady. "I don't have the time or the inclination to play your games Mason so ask your questions or get the hell out!"

"Ain't never learned to control that smart mouth did ya, ya little bastard!" Faster than Ezra would have thought a man of his size could move, Mason slapped the glass from his hand and wrapping a enormous hand around his throat, slammed the gambler against the wall. "Mr. High and Mighty thinks he's so much better than everyone else. So damn much smarter! All the fancy words and snazzy clothes in the world don't change the fact you're nothin' but a lyin' sleaze ball who'll end up dead in a gutter!"

Acting on instinct as the hand tightened around his throat, Ezra activated the hideout rig, palming the derringer.

"Get your hands off him or I'll blow your fuckin' head off." The quiet words were followed by the ominous sound of the hammer of a weapon being cocked.

Ezra's head smacked the wall again as Mason released his hold giving the con man another shove before turning to face Wilmington. "You do realize you're threatening an officer of the law don't you? I could have you arrested for interfering with a police officer in the performance of his duty."

"And I could blow your ass away without a second thought." Buck's grin didn't reach the dark eyes and his aim never wavered. He wanted to tell the arrogant sonuvabitch that both he and Ezra had more authority when it came to law enforcement than Mason would ever hope to have. "I come in to find my friend being assaulted in his own home. How was I supposed to know it was a cop trying to beat the hell out of him instead of some crack head wanting to rob the place?"

"Put the gun away Buck. Everything's fine. The detective and I just had a small difference of opinion." Dropping the tiny weapon into his pocket and dragging in deep breaths of air Ezra moved to the bar. "My opinion is he's a major asshole and he doesn't agree."

"Fraid he's right about this one Mason." Wilmington lowered the weapon but neither con man nor cop failed to notice he didn't return it to its holster. "Was wonderin', myself, if your parents had any children that lived?"

Flexing his hand to steady the trembling, Ezra poured himself another drink before facing the detective once more. "I believe you had some questions for me."

"It might be better if we discussed this downtown after all."

"Call your lawyer Ez. He can meet us there." Buck tossed him the cell phone his angry gaze never leaving Mason. "I'll just tag along, keep y'all company."

*******

Glancing over his shoulder, Vin smiled seeing the old Grey Ford, wondering who had the guts to loan Josiah their car knowing where he would be spending his time. Tanner continued to follow the main body of the group, ignoring those who broke off, catching snatches of their conversation, hanging back when their steps slowed, working his way closer as they continued on.

Vin turned into the doorway of the rundown building not surprised when the last members of the Diablos entered the corner bar. He stood staring at the entrance. The tiny bar was almost always crowded. The patrons didn't care about the torn seats in the booths, wobbly tables or the watered down alcohol. The Black Rose's prices were cheap, the juke box worked, the pool tables were level and they could always find a bookie, numbers runner or dealer willing to take their money.

"Not a wise idea brother." Reaching for the door handle, Tanner suppressed a startled yelp as a large hand gripped the back of his collar dragging him into the alley.

"Damn Josiah, ya tryin' ta give me a heart attack!" Vin hissed, whirling on the older man.

"Actually I was attempting to keep the Diablos from using you for target practice again." The ex-preacher crossed his arms over his massive chest, moving to block Vin's exit. "In case you've developed a sudden case of amnesia, they think you killed their second in command."

"Look, Josiah, half the damn Diablos are in there and they're bound to be talkin' about Davey." Vin argued. "My best chance of findin' out what's goin' on is if I'm inside...not hidin' in the damn alley like some scared school kid."

"Your best chance of gettin' the shit kicked outta ya is steppin' through that door.....If not by them than by me…And you're outta your mind, if ya think I'm gonna face Chris cause you're too damn stubborn for your own good." Josiah gripped the slim shoulders. "I could use a cold beer......Ya head your skinny ass back to the motel."

"Yeah right....And then I get to face Chris for leavin' you without backup." Vin held up his hands in surrender. "I'd rather take on every gang in Purgatorio."

"Ya ain't goin' in there, if I have ta knock your ass out and carry ya back to your room." Josiah threatened. "And ya know I can do it."

Tanner gave his large friend a thorough once over. Dressed in old jeans, tee shirt a denim jacket and work boots, the five o'clock shadow giving him a more scruffy and threatening look than normal, Josiah could easily pass for one of the residents of Purgatorio. There was nothing about him which said he was anything more than a hardworking man stopping for a drink. There was nothing anyone in the bar would find unusual other than he was a stranger. "If ya ain't out in half an hour I'm comin' in after ya."

"Have faith brother." Clapping a large hand on Tanner's shoulder, Josiah strolled down the street, tossing the sharpshooter a small wink before entering the tavern.

*******

With an expression of someone angry at the world, Josiah tossed two wrinkled dollar bills on the bar as the man sat the beer glass on the counter, quickly moving away without a word. The ex-FBI agent had chosen a stool at the far end of the bar, facing the door and closest to the pool tables.

*******

Vin was a patient man. His former line of work had often demanded long hours of endless waiting but this was somehow different. This time he was waiting for a friend who had willingly stepped into a potentially dangerous situation in Tanner's place. Scrubbing a hand through his long hair, the tracker settled the baseball cap back on his head and slouched against the wall.

Five minutes....He'd give him five more minutes and then Diablos or no, he was.....Tanner stepped farther back into the shadows as Manuel Sandoval, his arm around a pretty brunette, exited the bar, accompanied by two members of his gang. The girl emitted peals of laughter as he bent whispering in her ear, slapping her bottom as she slid into the backseat of the car.

Josiah joined Tanner as the vehicle pulled out into traffic, disappearing down a side street.

"They're goin' back to his place for some slap and tickle." The preacher arched his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on I'll give ya a lift back to the truck." He steered the slim young man toward his car. "Ya know her?"

"Don't think so." Vin shook his head. "Should I?"

"That's Angelina Valdez."

*******

Larabee entered the police station with all the force of the military storming the beaches of Normandy. All Buck had said on the phone was Mason had taken Ezra in for questioning but Chris had known Wilmington too many years, been through too many missions not to read what his oldest friend wasn't saying.

Brushing past officers who dared to try and stop him, ignoring orders he couldn't go there, smiling with grim satisfaction as most people stepped aside not wanting to confront the furious team leader, Chris Larabee made his way to the offices of the homicide division.

"Can I help you?" A young detective with more guts than sense approached him as Chris pushed through the doors, his angry hazel gaze sweeping the room.

"Only if you can tell me where the fuck Detective Mason is!"

"I...ummm...I believe....he's questioning...."

"Where?!" The young officer backpedaled at the snarl, his eyes darting about the room, seeking assistance from the few people left on duty.

"Perhaps you should speak with C-Captain Johnson...."

"Hey Chris." Buck leaned in the doorway, a wide grin on his face as the detective scurried away. "Wanna a cup a coffee? It ain't as good as Ezra's but ain't nearly as bad as Vin's."

"No I don't want coffee!" Larabee glared at his friend. "I want Ezra outta here...Now!"

"You're weren't kiddin' Buck! He ain't changed an iota." Chris studied the man who stepped into the doorway beside Wilmington, waving him into his office.

"Mark?" His eyes widened as his mind settled on a name to go with the familiar face. "Mark Johnson?"

Mark Johnson had gone through basic training with Chris and Buck, joining the shore patrol shortly after the two had started training for the SEALS. He had kept their asses out of the brig on more than one occasion when they'd found themselves embroiled in a barroom brawl.

"The one and only." The Captain shook his hand, pulling Larabee into the office and shutting the door. "Still pullin' your asses outta the fire." He waved Chris to a chair. "Your friend'll be up in a minute."

"You're in charge here?" A spark of hope ignited in him. Larabee wasn't one to take advantage of a friendship but he'd do whatever was necessary to help Vin and if that included using this man, so be it.

"Since Carter retired six months ago."

They took a few minutes to catch up with each others lives and news of old friends. Having heard what happened to Larabee's family, Mark carefully avoided mentioning Sarah or Adam, instead keeping the conversation centered on what each of the three friends were doing now. "Have to admit when I saw your names mentioned in Mason's reports, I wondered if it was the same hell raisers I used to know. Figured it couldn't be anyone else."

"Ya know it might be better ta have this reunion in a bar somewhere.....Right now, I'd like ta know what the hell's goin' on?"

"It seems they had some questions about some stuff they found on the hard drive of Ezra's computer." Buck moved to refill the coffee cup, hiding the smile. Mark had allowed him to watch the interrogation. The gambler hadn't needed his lawyer, holding his own against the detective, driving the man to distraction, using words Webster would have had to look up. "Seems he used the net to book a plane reservation to Rio."

"Since when is it against the law to make vacation plans?"

"That reservation was made the day after the murder Chris." Mark leaned against the desk, meeting Larabee's direct gaze. "Mason thinks Vin Tanner will use it to get out of the country."

"And what does Ezra say?" Larabee pulled a cheroot from his pocket. Old friend or not, he wasn't about to volunteer information concerning either Tanner or Standish.

"He admitted giving it to a friend."

"Jack Larson. Figured it would make a nice present from all a us. Kid graduated college early...with honors....Has a thing for some exchange student he met who lives there." Chris dropped the lighter back in his pocket, glancing at Buck. "By the way, I told him we'd all pitch in so I don't wanna hear no arguments when he hits ya up for your share."

"He already has." Wilmington chuckled, remembering Ezra pointedly turning to face the two way mirror, informing Buck his part of the present came to one hundred forty seven dollars and thirty eight cents and no he wouldn't take a check. Cash on the barrel head.

"I was never any better at mind games than you Chris so let's set the record straight." Mark took his seat behind the desk. "I don't play favorites when it comes to murder investigations not even for old friends. I know this Tanner works for you but he's also the prime suspect..."

"Ain't nobody askin' for favors just that ya keep your....." Chris took a deep breath, biting down on the frustration that seemed to take over every time he thought of Vin's current predicament. A situation that had unwittingly dragged Ezra back before the attention of a badge heavy and possibly dirty cop. "Buck....Why don't ya wait for Ezra outside?" It wasn't a suggestion and Buck didn't take it as such. Whatever Larabee intended to discuss was personal and although curious Wilmington wouldn't push.

*******

Buck leaned back in the swivel chair, his feet propped up on Mason's desk, his eyes on Mark's closed door. The Assistant District Attorney had entered the office ten minutes earlier.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" The agitated roar brought a smile to the pilot's handsome face having received the reaction he desired. The entire reason he'd picked this particular pose at this particular desk.

"Makin' myself comfortable like Captain Johnson told me to." Buck turned his attention to the con man standing near the door, thinking how much he suddenly looked like a bashful little boy, wanting to run and hide from the undesired attention. "Hey Ez. Ya finally satisfy their curiosity?"

"It would appear so."

"Get the fuck away from my desk!" Mason ordered shoving Wilmington's feet to the floor.

Taking his time, gaining his feet, Buck stretched luxuriously before pushing past the detective and crossing to where Ezra waited. "Ya okay?"

"Fine." The con man nodded his smile not as reassuring as he hoped. The truth was this latest encounter with Mason had left him more shaken than he wanted to admit. It was as if this were a prelude to coming events. Ezra didn't believe in premonitions but he did believe in instincts and his instincts were suddenly screaming he was going to come out on the losing end of this game.

"I'll tell Chris we'll meet him at your place and then we'll head out."

"Mr. Larabee is here?"

As if hearing his name, Chris exited the office followed closely by Johnson and A.D.A. Tilman. "Ya ready to get the hell outta here Ezra?"

"The sooner the better." The gambler nodded.

"Just a second, I forgot something."

Buck slid an arm around Ezra's shoulders, steering the cardsharp down the hall, a smile lighting his eyes as Larabee crossed the office coming to a stop in front of Mason's desk.

Mason glanced at Johnson surprised to see his captain close the office door, shutting out whatever was about to happen.

"I wanna get one thing straight Mason." Chris, his palms resting flat on the desk, leaned close, his voice only loud enough for the detective to hear. "You touch Ezra Standish again and I'll feed you your fucking badge before I rip your head off your shoulders....That's a promise!"

*******

Ezra wandered through the dark apartment, Scoundrel at his heels, silently crossing the living room and slipping through the sliding doors onto the rooftop terrace.

His arms resting on the brick wall which enclosed the large patio, the gambler looked out over the city, thinking how peaceful it seemed, his emerald gaze turning in the direction of Purgatorio, his mind turning to Tanner. Why hadn't Vin made his nightly visit? Had something happened? What could have gone wrong enough to prevent the sharpshooter from contacting his friends?

The last few days had taken on a regular pattern. Vin showing up late in the night with any information he'd gleaned during his forays through the streets, the other members of Larabee's elite team arriving for breakfast with their own reports and to formulate the days activities.

Dana had finally called to report the gun was indeed registered to Vin, bought from a supplier in Four Corners. No the owner didn't remember Tanner but that had been several months earlier and his store was a popular retailer. The signature on the license application wasn't an exact match but could be the sharpshooter's scrawl.

Under Wilmington's watchful eye, JD had taken to following Angelina, his youth allowing him to hang out in the streets and in the clubs without drawing undue attention, while Josiah still watched Vin's back. Nathan spent his time helping Ezra and Larabee analyze the piles of data, looking for anything they could use to prove Vin's innocence as well as reviewing the data on Richmond.

The checks Larabee had ordered on the police officials and ATF officers before Vin's case took precedence had heralded nothing of significance.

At least if anyone asked, Chris could say with all honesty they were working on the Richmond case. The con man had contacted his source in Richmond's camp, with the story of how, with the help of a friend in the legal system he'd avoided a trip downtown when the ATF had raided the warehouse. He'd used the anger at Vin's situation, the fear and indignation at his own treatment by Mason to make the tale even more believable. It was obvious there was a leak somewhere in the dealer's organization and while they still wished to acquire the shipment, neither Ezra or his client desired a long vacation at the government's expense, so if Mr. Richmond was still interested in disposing of his merchandise, the con man would make the necessary arrangements. No offense intended but he hadn't survived this long by trusting others. One mistake was one too many.

Ezra couldn't shake the nagging feeling he was missing something. Something that could cost Vin his freedom...worse...his life.

"If ya don't start sleepin', Nathan'll be draggin' your ass into the clinic and force feedin' ya some sleepin’ pills." Ezra whirled, his breath catching in his throat, his heart racing at the quiet voice.

"Then I shall be in good company since you seem to also be sufferin' from a severe case of insomnia." The gambler smiled, taking the seat next to the blond team leader. 'Must be losing my touch.' How long had Larabee been sitting there? He shouldn't have been surprised since Chris had practically taken up residency in one of the penthouse's spare rooms.

"Ya can stop worryin' about Vin...." Chris grinned, motioning for the gambler to look through the glass doors. A smile lit Ezra's face as he made out the slender form of his friend sprawled face down on the leather sofa, asleep. 'I really am losing my touch. Walked right past him.' "Got here a couple hours ago."

Larabee lit a cheroot offering one to Standish, pouring the southerner two fingers of scotch as the gambler lit the thin cigar. "Seems he had a meet with one a the Diablos...happened ta be Davey's best friend."

"Please tell me that not only did he not meet this person in an alley somewhere but that this person will still be breathing when the sun rises." The con man groaned, earning him a chuckle.

Ezra sat in silence, sipping the scotch and staring at the stars, his mind once again seeking the elusive equation that would pull all of this together giving them a sensible solution.

Chris sat watching the enigma that was Ezra Standish.

The con man had visibly relaxed with the knowledge his friend was safely sleeping, watched over by people who cared for him. Larabee knew the gambler, on some level, thought of them all as friends and although reluctant to admit it even to himself, hoped they considered him such. Chris understood what it had taken for Ezra to tell him about Mason and understood the reasoning behind the con man's revelations.

The gambler never failed to surprise him. He went above and beyond the bounds of friendship to help and protect Tanner yet, couldn't accept that Vin or any of the others would do the same for him. Ezra knew from experience they would and had done the same but to the southerner they did such things because of who they were, not because it was him. He wished the cardsharp would allow himself to believe he was part of their family and just as important as any of them. It was something they would continue to work on. After all, he didn't expect to wipe out a lifetime of belief in just over a year.

From what he'd been able to ascertain since meeting the wily southerner, Ezra had been raised to believe without his skills or money he was worthless to anyone. Relying on others made you weak. Tanner had finally learned to accept help when needed although like the cardsharp he rarely, if ever, asked for that help, especially if it would mean trouble for the others. Maybe it was a lesson the sharpshooter could teach the gambler.

Chris mentally replayed his talk with Mark Johnson, knowing it wouldn't have pleased the con man even though Larabee had carefully avoided using Ezra's name. The ex-SEAL hadn't asked his old friend for special consideration concerning Vin's case. He had however presented the police captain with enough of the evidence they'd gathered to put questions in the veteran officer's mind, asking only that he take another look at the case, hinting he might want to have a private chat with Leon Bass and take a closer look at Mason’s motives.

He had laid out in explicit detail, what they had heard of the detective's actions during his time on the force, making it clear they would come to him if and when they had indisputable proof and he fully expected Mason's boss to act on that evidence.

A small smile touched Larabee's lips as his thoughts returned to the man beside him, seeing the agile fingers absently rub the curls of the tiny dog that had settled in his lap. Kids and animals. Both accepted the gambler for who he was, seeing the goodness, the selflessness he tried so desperately to keep hidden behind the heartless, self serving facade he presented to the world.

His laughter, his intelligence and wit, facing the world with a selfish 'I don't give a damn about anything' attitude, hid a fragile and sensitive soul. Ezra was exceptional at hiding his emotions, it's what made him so good at his job but try as he might, he couldn't hide himself from the wise eyes of children, animals....or Vin Tanner.

Vin, with his gentle heart and a wisdom born of facing life alone had immediately seen behind the walls and his faith in the con artist had forced Chris to look deeper, seeing the man Tanner had found behind the masks of unfeeling self interest. He'd discovered the courageous, caring and conscientious person Ezra denied with every breath of his being. Kids, animals and the six men he thought of as friends...The gambler's weaknesses. The things Ezra couldn't hide himself from and would give his life for.

"Can I ask ya something Ezra?"

"Anything is possible." The cardsharp smiled. "I understand speaking is one of your skills although you don't put it to use that often."

"Alright smartass, will you answer a question for me."

"Again, anything is possible." Ezra easily ducked the playful slap aimed at his head. "Besides the obvious, just what issue plagues your mind?"

"That identification you gave Vin,..." Chris shifted in his seat, uncertain how to phrase the question without offending the man beside him and just as certain he wouldn't be happy with the answer.

"As I explained, there were times I often found it extremely sagacious to be someone other than Ezra Standish. I'm sure you understand with my line of work I had several personas."

"But those credit cards and the bank account were still active."

"No Mr. Larabee I haven't been running any cons."

Larabee gripped the smaller man's arm as he set the animal on its feet and made to rise. "That's not what I was thinking Ezra...I just wondered why you feel it necessary to hold on to those...personas."

Ezra sat back, his eyes on the stars overhead. Chris waited, knowing the southerner was trying to decide just how much he trusted Larabee.

"Would you not agree Mr. Larabee that my current occupation is perhaps even more dangerous than my previous career? I believe in being prepared for any eventuality."

"And with those personas you can disappear at a moments notice." Crushing the cheroot in the ashtray, an unbearable expression of pain in the emerald eyes Ezra entered the apartment leaving Chris sitting on the terrace, regret washing over him in tidal waves at giving voice to the words.

*******

Ezra lay watching the light of the rising sun chase the shadows across the bedroom ceiling. Damn! Why hadn't he evaded Larabee's question? He had weakly given into a moment of self indulgence, hoping the man he respected would understand his need to hold onto certain elements of his previous life for his own peace of mind. He should have realized given his less than reputable past and Chris' own expectations of the con man's eminent desertion, Larabee would come to the logical conclusion he had reached regarding the southerner's other identities.

Ezra had almost laughed, when Larabee, a few days earlier had talked about the gambler's loyalty to his friends. He had found it extremely humorous to hear that particular adjective used in connection with a con man. It was obvious these men knew little of the dishonesty and deception involved in a con man's life. Didn't they realize con artists were loyal to nothing and no one but themselves, looking out only for their own best interests? It was their way of life. Ingrained into the soul.

There were precedents that must be adhered to if a con man was to be successful. Rules that if broken or ignored could not only mean the demise of a perfect setup but depending on the mark could also be unhealthy for the con artist himself.

Rules that didn't allow one to acquire friends. Associates or business partners yes, but never friends! Friendship was a forbidden pleasure. A liability a con man couldn't afford. Thinking of someone as a friend made you soft, leaving you vulnerable and often unable to see the angles that person used to gain what they wanted from you.

Rules that didn't allow for the luxury of letting other people see the real person. Following the rules, remaining hidden behind the walls, eventually destroyed the inner self leaving only the shell of a person wearing different masks, becoming whoever and whatever was needed to survive.

Tossing aside the blankets, Ezra slipped into his robe and made his way through the silent apartment to the kitchen. It was obvious sleep of any proportion was going to elude him so he might as well start preparing breakfast for the horde of hungry men who would soon descend upon his home.

Seeing Vin seated at the table the gambler was grateful to whoever had the wisdom to invent a coffee maker with an automatic timer. He hadn't developed the cast iron lining required for ingesting the lethal dose of caffeine Tanner considered coffee.

Knowing the peaceful quiet would all to soon be shattered by the boisterous voices of their teammates, both sharpshooter and gambler chose to enjoy the other's company in silence.

Vin saw the signs of sleeplessness written on his friend's face as clearly as neon letters and knew what had caused it.

It wasn't until Ezra began pulling the makings for breakfast from the refrigerator the ex-bounty hunter deemed to bring up the subject he knew had kept the con artist from achieving the rest he needed.

Tanner had awoken shortly after Ezra left Chris sitting on the terrace and had listened compassionately to Larabee's version of the conversation. "Ya know Ez, Chris didn't mean for ya ta take what he said last night the way ya did....It just come out wrong."

Ezra met the sharpshooter's worried blue gaze steadily. "I assure you Mr. Tanner, there is no need for your ardent defense of Mr. Larabee. I'm fully aware of what he was trying to say."

Thinking about it as he lay in his bed, the cardsharp had no doubt Chris had been sincere when he spoke of Ezra's loyalty, indicating he no longer worried about the gambler running out on them. Larabee didn't play games, laying it on the line. Anyone who'd ever met the man knew, if they couldn't handle the cold hard truth don't ask his opinion. It was Standish himself who feared the obvious implication made by the simple statement.

It would forever be his secret alone, how many times, he'd given consideration to packing the few possessions he held dear and running for the hills. The thought leapt to mind, each time he paused long enough to think about how much he liked and respected these six men. Each time he considered how much they were coming to mean to him. Only by pushing the thoughts away and stepping further back from the men themselves could he continue to safely maintain his tenuous hold on this new life.

He feared one or more of them would be hurt or killed because he had somehow failed. Had missed something. Wasn't where he should have been. Hadn't considered every possible scenario. Any number of possibilities flashed through his mind.

"Can I ask ya somethin' Ezra?" Tanner's question pulled him from his thoughts.

"You do understand the conversation you're so worried about started with those exact same words don't ya?" The gambler grinned. It didn't surprise him that Vin had mimicked Chris' words. There was a powerful connection between the two friends. An almost telepathic connection which often permitted them to communicate without words or finish the other's thought.

He smiled at the pink tinge in Vin's cheeks, knowing the young sharpshooter had only involved himself in a private situation to help his two friends.

The gambler had a talent for reading people. In his line of work on both sides of the law as well as his profits at the gaming tables depended on his ability to know what his opponent or in this case his friend was thinking.

"Just wonderin' how come your friends all know ya ain't gonna run out on us but you don't know it."

Larabee quickly stepped back into the hall, before either man noticed his presence, unabashedly eavesdropping on the conversation. He'd never ask him to, but Larabee hoped Vin could smooth the rocky path Chris' thoughtless remark had cast between him and his southern operative.

"Just what makes ya so certain I won't desert you to save my own sorry ass?" Tanner had given voice to Ezra's greatest fear; that he would one day lose the daily battle he waged against a lifetime of training and his instincts for self-preservation.

"Cause you're you." To Vin the answer was that simple.

The gambler couldn't prevent a smile. The sharpshooter had a gift for seeing his friends for the men they truly were, their flaws and deficiencies as well as the characteristics and traits that made each of them special. He saw them for the men they were the men they feared they would become and the men they wanted to be.

"How come we trust ya more than ya trust yerself?"

Ezra didn't have to ask that anything said to Vin remain between the two of them. It was a given. He just wasn't sure if he had the courage to reveal a part of himself he was none to proud of. Did he have the strength to share with the shy sharpshooter a piece of his past leaving himself open to scorn and contempt?

Refilling his coffee cup, the southerner returned to the table.

Vin waited, watching as the cardsharp stared into the brown liquid as if it held the secrets of the universe.

He knew there were times when the cocky self-confidence that seemed to ooze from the suave southerner was nothing more than a fabrication. Ezra could put on a hell of a convincing show when needed, it's what he did for a living but the gambler had once told JD everyone has their tells. Although he never shared the information, Vin had quickly learned to spot Ezra's and silence was the most obvious.

"We know yer too good a friend ta leave us hangin' Ez." Vin prompted.

The quiet words brought a snort of derision from the gambler. "I don't even know what the hell that word means."

"Hell yer a walkin' dictionary Ezra, I didn't think there was any word ya didn't know the meanin' of." Tanner gave him a lopsided grin.

"Of course I understand the English interpretation of the word friendship...." Ezra shrugged. "I'm just not sure how you go about implementing the terminology into the act itself."

"Ya ain't makin' any sense pard..."

"Friendship is learned Mr. Tanner, just as one learns to read and write. Unfortunately it's something I was never taught. "

Vin sat for several moments, concentrating on exactly what he wanted to say. "I ain't had yer schoolin' but I don't think it's learned Ez....Think it's just somethin' ya know....like when we was little fellas, we liked or didn't like somebody just cause a who they were or what they was like....Ya know ya both liked football, baseball, bike ridin'...." Tanner grinned, realizing who he was talking to, "readin', playin' cards, whatever you and yer friends liked...." Again Vin trailed off, noticing a wistfulness in the emerald eyes. "What?"

"Except for a few cousins who didn't appreciate my encroaching on their sacred territory, I was never around other children."

"What about in school?"

The gambler swallowed hard, averting his eyes. How could he make Tanner understand without revealing a secret that would prove to everyone just what a liar the con man truly was?

"You're our friend Ezra....ain't nothing gonna change that."

"How can you be friends with someone who isn't and never was real?"

"Ya keep forgettin' I ain't as smart as..."

"Stop it!" Ezra slammed his palm against the table. He was tired of hearing Tanner put himself down because he had gone no farther than high school in the educational system. Standish knew the younger man who had such a poetic soul and a love of the written word was plagued with a reading disability. He also knew because of the problem Tanner's self esteem in that area had been torn apart by unfeeling foster parents, overworked teachers and social workers who cared more about finding a bed for him to sleep in than reassuring the boy he wasn't ignorant.

"You're not stupid Vin.....Far from it. You're one of the smartest people I've ever met! You may not have the higher education of Josiah or Nathan or even have gone as far in school as JD but you're people smart. You have a unique gift of vision." He smiled at the sharpshooter's confused expression. "You view things with your heart, seeing people and situations as they really are. You have the ability to examine both sides of any given circumstance and find a reasonable solution to a problem. That's better than a hundred diplomas. You don't think twice about trying to help when something's wrong. You, my friend are a Good Samaritan in every sense of the word. The world might not be in such a mess if there were a few million more Vin Tanners around....Of course it would be a lot less profitable for people such as myself."

Chris grinned, imagining the red flush of Vin's face at the compliment.

"What'd ya mean about not bein' real?" Tanner wasn't about to let the con man pull his favorite trick of misdirection.

"It doesn't matter." Vin grabbed Ezra's arm as the cardsharp rose, keeping him in the chair.

"It does matter....Please?" The soft plea tore at the southerner's heart and broke down the last of his defenses. His mother had been right. He had become weak. Ezra had allowed himself to care about these men and their opinion of him and it was to be his downfall.

How had he allowed this to happen? How had he let these men work their way so far past the barriers he'd erected, he found it impossible to look into the blue eyes of the special person seated at the table and tell a lie. A few years ago it wouldn't have bothered him in the least.

His voice was low, his eyes on the cup in front of him. "The Ezra Standish you know doesn't exist.....Everything you think you know about me is nothing more than a prevarication. My entire life is based on lies...."

Ezra ignored the heat of shame, warming his cheeks. It no longer mattered if they knew the truth because there was only one solution. As soon as Vin had been cleared of the charges against him, Ezra would pack up and move on. "Would it surprise you to know you have more formal education than I do?"

"Big deal, so ya didn't finish high school..."

"I didn't attend any school, Mr. Tanner."

"That why ya didn't know any kids cause ya had tutors?"

If only! He choked back a disdainful laugh. Ezra had grown up in a lonely world of reality. His school lessons hadn't been the three R's but how to cheat at cards, pick pockets and perfect the art of the con. A strong willed woman, Maude had seen to it that her son never forgot the rules she'd made so clear and the lessons she still taught with regularity.

"My...tutors....consisted of mother's associates and admirers. Between helping Maude with her cons and being shuffled off to relatives when I wasn't needed I was never any one place long enough for school." Wishing it was whiskey, Ezra took a sip of the cooling coffee.

Hearing the mortification and self-disgust in the gambler's voice, remembering the hint of shame he'd seen in the con man's eyes when Nathan commented on his 'high priced education', Chris pressed his back against his wall, his chin dropping to his chest. At least that explained why they'd never been able to find any educational records on their elusive con man. Nathan would never know just what a high price Ezra had paid for his education....His childhood.

"The knowledge I've acquired has come strictly from experience and the books I've read."

"Seems ta me, ya gotta be pretty smart ta teach yerself all those things ya know about."

A trace of a smile at the compliment crossed the gambler's lips. "You see Mr. Tanner, my life is nothing more than a mere assumption. People assume because of my vocabulary I must have attended the best educational institutions. They assume because of my taste in apparel, music, fine wines and gourmet food, I must have been raised in the finest of homes.....I become what people believe...a talent, my mother taught me as a mere child.....You see, Ezra P. Standish is nothing more than a mirage....No substance or..."

"That ain't so Ez." Vin interrupted shaking his head in disagreement. "You're damn good at your job Ez but that's all it is...A job. It ain't who ya are. Ya can fool alotta people....Ya may even con yerself but ya can't fool any a us...." An impish grin crossed his handsome face. "...least not all the time."

The sharpshooter crossed the kitchen, returning with the coffeepot. "Wanna know what we see when we look at Ezra P. Standish?" Vin leaned forward, tilting his head to meet Ezra's downcast eyes. "Tell ya what I see....Same as Chris and Josiah and the others....We see a good friend who's kind and carin'. We see courage, compassion, intelligence and a wicked sense of humor. We see a goodness ya try ta hide behind those walls a yours. We see a man who makes sure all the kids get ice cream and gives a home to a stray dog ain't no bigger'n a minute. We see a friend we know will stand beside us no matter what....Anybody with eyes and a lick a sense sees the same things." The slow smile spread wider at the look of wonderment in the emerald eyes. Knowing the gambler had been raised to hide his feelings, Vin offered the southerner an escape from the emotions he was now battling. "Know what else we see? A stubborn, obnoxious smart mouthed, pain in the ass who we're proud ta call part a our family."

Chris wished he could see Ezra's expression. Even more he wished he had been the one to give the speech. He had seen the lonely man hiding behind the wall of arrogance. He knew as much as he wanted to, the con man had trouble believing he was truly one of them. Like the others, Larabee considered the gambler a part of their family yet he had found it easier to let the rest of his team know how he felt then he did Ezra. The two seemed to butt heads like two mountain goats.

"Mr. Tanner, I'm afraid the strain of your present predicament has taxed that vivid imagination with which you've been blessed." Ezra rose and moved to the refrigerator. "I shall suggest our esteemed physician examine you and rest of our illustrious associates for the delusions y'all seem to be suffering."

"Sure thing Ez." Vin chuckled. His expression sobered. "Would ya do somethin' for me Ez?" He rushed on before the gambler could answer. "When ya feel safe enough with us, to let go a those other aliases a yours.....Would ya hang them pictures ya got hid away? Put 'em in the livin' room or someplace they can be seen."

Ezra was saved from answering by the ringing of the door chimes sending Scoundrel racing across the parquet floor from where he'd been laying between the two friend’s chairs.

Realizing he was about to be discovered listening, he scrubbed a hand through his hair and effecting a yawn Larabee entered the kitchen as if just having been awakened.

*******

"Picasso thinks Sandavol killed Davey ta keep him from takin' over. Thinks he set me up ta get me outta the way cause a the questions I's askin'."

Ezra grimaced as Vin dunked his donut in the coffee before taking a bite of the soggy pastry. Buck and JD had arrived, loaded down with a variety of breakfast pastries, including lemon filled donuts for the sharpshooter.

They listened as Tanner told them of his late night meeting with the gang member.

Picasso, so nicknamed because of his graffiti, was Davey Harrison's best friend. The two had lived in the same building their entire lives growing up in the streets of Purgatorio. He put on a good show for the other members of the Diablos but Picasso hadn't believed for a moment Vin had killed Davey.

He knew the sharpshooter from the neighborhood, had played basketball with him at the community center and remembered how the young do gooder had attempted to persuade Davey and him not to join the Diablos, while helping them with minor repairs around their apartments. Unlike most people Vin hadn't treated them any differently, hadn't ranted and raved or pretended they know longer existed, or given up on them, when they chose to ignore his advice.

Picasso, had left a safe number where he could be reached with several mutually trusted friends, along with a message saying he needed to talk to Tanner.

"'Ccordin' ta Picasso, lot of 'em don't like the direction Manuel's takin’ the Diablos. Said Davey was real pissed off when Sandoval was talkin' about wastin' M-Miguel." They waited, when Tanner's voice broke giving him time to compose himself. "Strange as it sounds, most of 'em joined the gang for a sense a belongin' and protection. Davey wondered how ya could have that iffen ya killed kids. Under normal circumstances, Davey had enough members behind him ta take over but seems Sandavol's got some powerful friends nobody wants ta go up against....."

"Maybe it's just me but I don't see how this helps ya." JD shrugged. "Does he know for sure, Sandavol killed Davey."

"Even if he did, don't reckon he'd wanna testify in court." Vin sighed. "Davey was smart. Picasso said he'd been hidin' evidence that would prove Sandavol was involved in alotta illegal crap....with the help of someone on the force. Was gonna use it ta take over. "

"He know who?" Chris questioned.

"Nope but he knows where the evidence is hid....just has to be careful goin' after it. Sandavol's paranoid as hell! He knows Davey had followers..." Tanner reached for another donut. "Picasso says Angelina's always been Manuel's main lady. Her and Davey never even liked each other that much...She told the others she was workin' when she supposedly seen me kill Davey."

"So maybe we should divide and conquer." Josiah suggested. "If we could use his paranoia against him, make him slip up somehow...."

Ezra suddenly found himself the center of attention as all eyes turned to him. "This will take some planning."

*******

Sitting at a corner table in the exclusive restaurant, his back to the wall, Ezra listened attentively to the man seated across from him. Over the man's shoulder, he could see Larabee casually leaning against the bar in the adjoining room apparently engrossed in conversation with a young woman, although Ezra had no doubt the man's full attention was focused on this table. A twinkle of amusement dancing in his green eyes, the gambler hid a smile behind his coffee cup at the uncomfortable countenance of the blond team leader at the woman's outrageous flirting.

Richmond's lackey had called that afternoon wanting a meeting.

"Excuse me Mr. Sims but I'm sure you understand after that last fiasco my client is a touch apprehensive about dealing with your employer." Ezra stated, his voice containing just enough scorn for a reprimand. "As such my own reputation has come under scrutiny. A fact I don't appreciate in the least."

"I can understand you being kinda pissed off but you have Mr. Richmond's assurances it won't happen again."

"Of that I have no doubt as I will be handling the arrangements, if and when I decide to do business with your employer."

"I thought you contacted us because you were still interested in-"

"Your assumption that I contacted you is correct, however, while I was waiting for an answer to my inquiry, I also contacted another source and began negotiations." The gambler almost laughed as Sims fumbled with the lighter when Ezra pulled one of Larabee's thin cigars from the gold case. Chris would probably bust a gut laughing if he knew Ezra had actually taken a liking to the cheap cigars. "I believe in keeping everything above board in dealing with compatriots, so I find it necessary to inform you that while I would rather deal with Mr. Richmond as his shipment is readily available I have received a better price from my second choice while only having a weeks delay before my client can take possession. There is the added incentive that I know for a fact, his security is tight enough I won't have the distinct displeasure of communicating with the government through my attorney."

"I can guarantee there won't be any problems with delivery." Sims was quick to offer.

"As much as I wish that were enough, I had a guarantee last time. If my connection with the local constabulary hadn't been present I-"

"Mr. Richmond has his own connections. Unfortunately he wasn't made aware of the ATF's plans until he was on his way to the meet."

Ezra knew better than to directly ask the name of the Richmond's contact, but at least they had a clear direction in which to turn their search.

Negotiations continued for another hour before Ezra informed Sims he would make arrangements for the exchange if Mr. Richmond concurred with the agreed upon price.

With a discreet nod to Josiah and Nathan seated in the van across the street, the con man climbed into the classic Camero, his mind sifting through and filing away pertinent information.

*******

The car crawled along the side street as Ezra searched the storefronts for the right name. Larabee would more than likely ream his ass for not heading straight back to the penthouse but there was something he wanted to check while he had the chance.

*******

"Where the hell have you been?!" Larabee shouted, as Ezra entered the living room, his hazel eyes raking over the con man searching for any indication of injuries.

"Following a hunch."

"Following a hunch?.....Following a hunch!" Chris' voice rose in direct proportion to the intensity of his anger and worry. "Let me guess, you forgot our lessons on dialing a phone!"

"He's been walkin' the floor like an expectant father." Nathan chuckled, choking on his laughter as Larabee whirled nailing the physician with a furious glare.

"I apologize for any undue anxiety caused by my untimely absence, however, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." Before he could continue, JD bound into the room, followed closely by Buck. Understanding the situation, Harry and his brother had stopped calling for permission, allowing the other men access to the top floor.

"Hey Ezra ya was right, she didn't know him from Adam." The youngest member exclaimed excitedly. According to the reports, Angelina had identified Vin by name, later picking his picture from among several shown her. Leon Bass had confirmed, since Tanner didn't have a police record, they used his academy cadet ID which the gambler had pointed out was several years old and depicted the sharpshooter with shorter hair and clean-, rather than the perpetual stubble that now adorned his handsome face. According to the detective his partner had requested they pull Tanner's employment file and have it waiting when they returned to the office.

Since Tanner didn't remember ever having crossed paths with her, the question had been raised of just how was it she had been able to identify him.

Following the cardsharp's suggestion, Vin, with Buck and JD close by for back up had approached Angelina on the street asking for directions. The girl had flirted bringing a blush to the shy man's face with her offer of her services but hadn't appeared to recognize him other than as a potential customer.

"Where is he?" Larabee wondered if there was anyway they could electronically tag Tanner and Standish, just as they did the animals re-released into the wilds. At least then he'd know where they were at all times. Seemed if he wasn't worrying about one it was other.

"Back at the motel. Said he'd let us know if he heard from Picasso, otherwise he'll be by later." Buck explained. "Josiah's camped out in the parking lot."

"Now," Larabee turned his attention back to the gambler, "what was so damn important you couldn't wait for back up before checking it out."

"I stopped by the store where Mr. Tanner supposedly purchased the murder weapon." Ezra sank onto the couch and pulling a small envelope from his pocket emptied the contents, a picture of Vin and a copy of the registration, on the table. "It's obvious to everyone this whole situation involving Mr. Tanner is nothing more than a elaborate set up, yet the weapon was purchased several months ago....I showed the proprietor this picture of our associate....He not only didn't recognize him he didn't even think he looked familiar. I requested he check his records, regarding the purchase of said weapon...."

"This guy just opened up his books for you?" Nathan's face was a mask of skepticism.

"He may have been under the mistaken impression I was Mr. Tanner's attorney....According to Mr. Pickett, the owner, that weapon was sold to one James Stillman."

"But the registration was in Vin's name." Buck protested.

"Precisely, which means the information was changed in the police computers and figuring the Diablos don't have the knowledge or resources to hack into said computers, the only way it could have been changed was by-"

"A cop." Chris growled. "Fits with what Picasso said about Sandoval knowin' someone on the force." Larabee pulled the cell phone from his pocket. They waited in silence for the results of his short conversation. "Jimmy Stillman is a Diablo. Vin says he's been doing time the last couple months for armed robbery."

"Is there anyway to find out who hacked into the computers?"

"Probably, but we'd have to check every computer in the police department." Dunne answered Nathan. "And that wouldn't help if they used a computer at another location."

Following Ezra to the kitchen, the men congregated around the table listening as the con man reported on his meeting with Sims. "Mr. Dunne, I think it would be most prudent if you were able to check the incoming calls to Richmond's cell phone and car phone the morning of the bust. By backtracking we should be able to discover the identity of his informant."

Chris studied the gambler, seeing the stifled yawns, increasingly dark circles growing under the green eyes and the haggard lines around his mouth. He feared the gambler would collapse if he didn't get some sleep soon.

"Buck, JD, ya head back to the office and start checkin' out them phone records. Might wanna check all the agents’ phones too. See if any calls were made or received." Chris turned to the southerner and took a deep breath preparing himself for the upcoming battle.

Suspicious of the looks exchanged by his boss and the team physician, Ezra pushed back from the table as they stepped toward him. "If you gentlemen will excuse me I have several things I wish to check on."

"The only thing you're gonna check out is your bed." Larabee leered as anticipating his actions, he and Nathan each grabbed an arm and began dragging the protesting con man towards his bedroom. "See Ezra if ya weren't so tired ya would have been able to avoid us."

"Sweet dreams Ez." Buck laughed, pulling JD in the opposite direction.

"I would appreciate it immensely if you gentlemen would unhand me." They tightened their grips as Ezra struggled, the heels of his expensive loafers leaving scuff marks on the floor. "I am perfectly capable of deciding if and when I need...."

"As your personal physician I'm making the decisions and ordering you to get some sleep." Nathan steeled himself for Ezra's reaction to his next words. "Or as the team physician I'll recommend suspension until further notice."

Ezra stiffened and they both saw the hurt in his eyes before his infamous poker face slid into place. Jerking free, the coldness of his eyes freezing them in place, the southerner marched from the room, the slamming of the bedroom door a moment later causing them both to cringe.

*******

Chris eased the bedroom door open, softly calling Ezra's name before poking his head inside the room. A smile touched his lips seeing the gambler curled on the bed, asleep. Curled beside him, Scoundrel raised his head watching as Larabee quietly crossed the room. Unfolding the blanket that lay across the foot of the bed, he pulled it up over the slender shoulders, thinking how much younger, how innocent the cardsharp looked in the peacefulness of sleep. It occurred to him Ezra and Vin were both biologically younger than the wisdom of their years having experienced a harder life than most.

"Sleep well my friend," He whispered. "You've earned it."

Resisting the urge to brush the unruly curls from the gambler's forehead, afraid he'd wake him, Larabee retreated from the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

*******

Chris flipped open the cell phone in the middle of the first ring and stepped out onto the terrace so he wouldn't awaken Vin, who had fallen asleep on the couch almost immediately upon arriving at the penthouse. Planning on getting some shuteye himself, he'd check a few minutes earlier, happy to find Ezra had barely moved. It wouldn't have surprised him if the gambler slept straight through the next day.

"Yeah?" Larabee glanced through the glass as Vin shifted positions, shaking his head ruefully. The penthouse had three extra bedrooms but Tanner chose the couch. It didn't matter where it was, if he wasn't in his own apartment the sharpshooter seemed most comfortable sleeping on the sofa almost as if he felt that's where he belonged, an outsider unworthy of a bed.

"Ya better get down here Chris, you're gonna wanna see this." Buck hadn't sounded that weary since....Chris pushed the thought aside.

"It's one thirty in the mornin'. Where the hell are you?"

"The office. JD's asleep in the apartment. We's waitin' on the printouts of the search he did. Printer alarm woke me."

"Bad?"

"That's puttin' it mildly."

"Be there soon." Disconnecting, he immediately hit speed dial, waiting for the sleep filled rumble of Josiah's baritone. "Need ya to come over to Ezra's. Gotta leave for a while."

"Be there in a few."

"Both are asleep. Harry'll have the key. Be in touch." With one last check on his friends, Chris grabbed his jacket and slipped from the penthouse.

*******

Scrubbing at his eyes, Tanner sleepily fumbled for the cell phone, hoping to stop the insistent ringing before it woke Chris or Ezra.

"'Lo," He raked a hand through his hair, the voice on the other end of the line bringing him instantly awake. "Yeah.....'Kay.....Be there as soon as possible." Flipping the phone shut, he felt around in the dark for his boots.

"And just where is it we will be as soon as possible?"

Vin blinked rapidly, as Ezra flipped the switch flooding the room with light.

"Sorry Ez, didn't mean ta wake ya."

"Ya didn't....Now where is it we're goin'?"

"Picasso was finally able to get Davey's stash." Vin grunted tugging on a boot.

"Give me five minutes to change clothes."

"No need. I won't be gone long." Vin's eyes widened as Ezra snatched the boot from his hand. "What the hell? Give me that!"

"I shall return your footwear momentarily."

"Give me my boot Ezra."

The gambler dodged and rushed out onto the patio holding Tanner's boot over the wall, high above the street. "Stay back Vin or I'll drop it." Tanner backed off, his eyes narrowing at the dimpled grin. "Now that I have your attention.....If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Larabee's orders stated you were to go nowhere without backup. Since it appears our fearless leader had pertinent business elsewhere, we have two options. We can call and wait for someone to arrive or I myself can accompany you. The choice is yours." Ezra stated emphatically. "Either way, if I have to handcuff you and hold you at gun point you aren't leaving this apartment alone."

"Ezra...Give me my boot!"

The gambler's smile grew wider at the threatening tone. He knew Tanner wouldn't take the chance on his following through with his threat and even if he didn't believe the con man, Ezra was certain Vin would do nothing to harm him physically. "I shall return said boot when I have your word you won't leave until I'm ready to accompany you.....I'll stay in the truck if it will satisfy you."

"Alright, alright....Just give me my damn boot!" Vin capitulated, taking a step backwards. He'd said nothing about losing his favorite jacket, understanding the cardsharp's reasons for destroying the beloved coat but he'd be damned if he'd lose his boots as easily.

"Your word of honor Mr. Tanner."

"My word as a Tanner." Vin shook his head in disgust, grabbing the offered footwear before the con man changed his mind.

"I'll be ready momentarily." Ezra laughed, playfully punching Tanner in the shoulder almost knocking him over as he hopped on one foot pulling on the boot, before hurrying inside.

*******

Vin shook his head in dismay. To say he was surprised when the gambler emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, wearing a black turtleneck, old jeans, running shoes and a denim jacket would have been an understatement. It wasn't as if he'd never seen Standish in jeans before, but somehow he only associated that attire with the man's undercover work.

"Is there something wrong with my apparel Mr. Tanner? I thought this outfit most appropriate for the part of town we shall be traversing."

"Ya look fine....Like a normal person...."

"I choose to perceive that as a compliment. By the smirk on your face I thought perhaps an important part of my anatomy was hanging out."

"Nope, you're all tucked in and secured far as I know." Tanner laughed. "And I sure as hell ain't gonna check for ya."

With a smirk of his own, Ezra grabbed Vin's jacket from the end of the couch, tossing it to the sharpshooter. "Shall we depart?"

*******

Vin didn't ask about the briefcase the gambler slid behind the seat. He trusted Ezra and knew the con man would tell him if necessary. Neither man said a word, both constantly watching the mirrors for any sign of being followed, as Tanner headed the truck in the direction of Purgatorio.

*******

"Son of a bitch!" He hissed between clenched teeth. Chris compared the numbers on the different printout sheets spread across the conference table for the third time, leaning back in the chair.

"Had to be him Chris, it's the only explanation." Buck sighed, wearily scrubbing a hand over his face. He'd done nothing but search the printouts for another plausible answer since calling Larabee.

Anger surged through his veins as Larabee punched the buttons on the phone. "Don't doubt it, just hope he ain't involved-....Bill? Chris Larabee."

"What time is it?"

"Almost twelve thirty. The day we was supposed ta bust Richmond, did ya talk to your brother?"

"What?" Chris could hear the sleepy confusion in his voice. "Ummm....why-"

"Just answer me and ya can go back ta sleep." Larabee snapped irritably. "Did you talk to your brother?"

"Yeah, we were supposed ta meet for lunch. Called ta let him know I wasn't gonna make it."

They had all been surprised when Richmond had set the buy for early morning but as Ezra had pointed out, the man liked the cover his legitimate businesses presented and what could be more normal than a shipment being loaded from a warehouse first thing in the morning. They all knew they didn't have enough evidence to convict. He could always use the defense he didn't visit the warehouse so wasn't aware of what was happening.

They needed the man himself at the scene.

Standish had gone against the ATF's orders and pushed to bring the man plainly into the picture. Only because of Ezra's insistence that he never handed over that amount of cash to anyone but the top man himself, especially since he intended to bring alot more business Richmond's way, had the man agreed to come to the exchange.

"Did ya tell him why?" A lump the size of a brick settled in Larabee's stomach, certain of the answer.

"I might have said something about finally nailing that bastard Richmond....We'd never talked about the case though." It was obvious the agent was now wide awake. "What the hell's this about Larabee?"

Chris released a deep breath. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell the man and he sure didn't want to do it over the phone. "Not on the phone."

"You at home?"

"The office."

"Be there in half hour." Larabee stared at the receiver for a long moment as the line went dead before placing it in the cradle.

"Don't envy ya Pard." Buck shook his head, glad he wasn't in his friend's position, though Wilmington would be there to help and give moral support. "Think he'll believe-" His question was cut off by the ringing of Larabee's cell phone.

"They ain't here." Josiah's baritone voice turned the brick to a boulder. "Must a left right after you. Note says Picasso called. No answer on their phones. Figure they have the power off till after the meet. Wouldn't take a chance on spookin' him."

"Pick up Nathan and come to the office." Chris' hand trembled with the restraint of not releasing his frustration by throwing the small phone across the office. Buck chewed his bottom lip to keep from grinning knowing without asking the Troublesome Two were on the loose and Larabee was ready to chew ass. "I'm gonna shoot both of 'em I swear!"

"I'll go wake the kid up."

"Give him a few more minutes." Chris sighed, wearily massaging the tense muscles in the back of his neck. "Somebody on this damn team might as well get some sleep."

"Inez knew we were here and left a fresh pot of coffee when she closed. I'll go get it." Wilmington gave Larabee's shoulder a reassuring pat as he left.

*******

Ezra leaned against the passenger side of the truck, peering into the dark shadows of the small park across the street. Park? A vacant lot with a couple of rusty swing sets was more like it. Papers, bottles, cans and cigarette butts littered the sparse grass. He could barely discern Tanner and Picasso talking near the ageless oak, the only tree that graced the small area.

The con man wasn't happy with the location of the meeting place. Out in the open like it was, enemies could come from any and all directions but he understood that had been the very reason for Picasso's choice. The young man wanted room to maneuver if necessary.

His internal alarms were ringing like church bells, his instincts screaming for him to grab Vin and run. Taking a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, Ezra's green-eyed gaze swept the area for the hundreth time.

The tide had turned shifting the advantage of the game. He could feel it. He no longer had control of the deck. It was time to step away from the table.

Ezra straightened, his hand going to the gun holstered at the small of his back as a chill raced down his spine. It was time to leave. Now!

"I wouldn't if I were you." The voice turned his blood to ice.

*******

Pity welled in each man as they watched the emotions play across the ATF agent's face as he stared at the evidence laid out before him. Chris had held nothing back, the rest of the team hearing the story of Ezra's treatment at the hands of this man's brother for the first time. A quick look from their boss was all they needed to understand this was never to be mentioned to the con man. It had been told in confidence and would remain that way. Bill had offered all the arguments, desperately wanting to deny what his eyes, ears and mind was telling him.

Mark and Leon had arrived a few minutes earlier. At Larabee's suggestion, a systems analysts had checked Mason's computer proving he had ordered and approved the changes on the gun registration.

"I knew he was badge heavy....one of the reasons I wouldn't recommend him for the ATF....but this...." Hurt and devastation turned to a boiling anger and then hatred. "I'll kill the bastard with my bare hands."

"Any idea where he might be?" Mark asked. "I called his house....Betty said he got a call about an hour ago and left in a rush. Thought it was something to do with the case he's workin' on."

"Vin!" Chris' heart plunged to his feet. "Buck try the cell phones again!"

Larabee jerked the note Josiah had found laying on Ezra's bed from the big man's hand, quickly scanning the hastily written missive.

'Picasso called. JD'll be able to locate Vin. E.S.'

"JD, what the hell's this mean?" The youngster moved to the end of the table reading over Chris' shoulder, seeing the darker lettering on his name and the word locate.

"Locate?....locate?.....Shit!" They followed as the computer whiz rushed from the room, hurrying to the equipment closet. Fumbling with the lock, he finally jerked the door open and pushing things aside searched frantically before pulling a metal case from the shelf.

"JD!"

"Vin's wearing a bug." Laying it on the closest desk, he flipped open the case revealing what looked like a small sonar screen in the lid and radio equipment in the base. "It's a locator bug.....something I been workin' on....Ezra was helpin' me test it before all this crap started. Works on the same principal as the tracking devices in stolen cars. Alot of the agencies use 'em but I was working on an extremely small and more accurate one. The one Ezra had was about the size of a button."

"So this thing will tell us where he is?" 'Please say yes.' Larabee prayed.

"It'll give us the small area to start with. Once we're there it should lead us right to him." Everyone held their breath as the electronics expert flipped switches and turned dials. A small blip appeared on the screen, faded and became stronger as JD adjusted the settings. Pulling a transparent plastic street grid from a pocket in the side of the panel, the Bostonian lay it over the screen. "He's in Purgatorio....This three block grid here."

*******

"What do ya want Mason?" Ezra sneered, careful to keep his eyes from straying to Tanner and Picasso. "Last time I checked I was past the age of breaking any curfew laws."

"Put these on." The cardsharp inwardly smiled as Mason held out a set of handcuffs after relieving the con man of his weapons. Standish couldn't keep himself from flinching, as the cuffs snapped shut and the detective reached out clamping the restraints around the gambler's wrists so tightly the metal felt as if it were biting into his flesh, cutting off the circulation to his hands.

"What am I being charged with?"

"Not a damn thing. Ya done been found guilty.....Time for sentencing."

A movement in the distance caught his attention and Ezra's heart began pounding so hard he was certain the sleeping residents in the apartment building behind him could hear it. His emerald gaze shifted to each of the figures stealthily attempting to surround the sharpshooter.

Seeing the fear that flashed across the con man's face Mason chuckled, a maniacal glint in his dark eyes. "Your friend'll be joining us soon and then we'll all have a real good time."

"Vin! Run!!!" Ezra's foot struck out connecting with the outside of Mason's knee. A howl of pain was the last thing the gambler heard as a blinding pain shot through his skull sending him spiraling down into blackness as his body crumpled to the sidewalk. 

*******

No one spoke, listening to the steady beep coming from the case on the seat next to JD and different patrol units reporting to Mark through the police radio installed in the dash of Larabee's truck. Josiah and Nathan followed the black Ford, Leon and Mark behind them.

Johnson had ordered patrol cars to search the area JD had indicated, issuing an APB for Mason and canceling the arrest warrant for Vin. So far none of the units had spotted anything resembling the description Josiah had provided of Tanner's rental truck or Mason's car.

"I don't get it." JD continued to stare at the screen. "How come Ezra didn't keep the bug on him if they're together."

Larabee and Wilmington exchanged knowing looks before Chris answered. "He wanted to make sure we could find Vin if they got separated."

Buck gripped the dash feeling as if he were going to be sick as a report came across the radio of a stabbing victim found in a lot on the west side of Purgatorio. He heard JD's gasp and felt the truck lurch forward as Chris stomped the gas pedal. Tires screeched, the truck sliding sideways as Larabee turned the corner. 'Oh God, please no!'

Blinking back tears, JD glanced out the back window seeing Josiah's Yukon fishtail as it took the corner, Leon's vehicle right on it's bumper. "God please don't let it be Vin or Ezra.' He sent a prayer heavenward.

His heart racing faster then the truck, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white, Chris wanted to snatch the microphone and demand details. Was the victim dead or alive? How had it happened? Who was it? His fear of the answers kept his hand away from the radio.

What if it was Vin? How would he get through another day without his best friend? Larabee had barely survived the loss of his wife and son. Had only survived with the help of the caring happy go lucky man now seated silently next to him praying for their missing friends.

Chris didn't know if he could face another day knowing he'd never again see the ex-bounty hunter's laughing blue eyes or that lopsided smile. The thought of the sharpshooter, who as a child alone in the world, shuffled through the foster care system had grown into an honorable man who managed to find the beauty and bring out the best in everyone, not being there to ease their worries and make them laugh was beyond his comprehension. The very thought caused an almost physical pain.

What if it was Ezra? The puzzling con artist who hid his heart of gold behind a sarcastic wit and self-serving facade, who pushed Larabee to the limits of his patience and made him look beyond the realms of possibility. Ezra was finally beginning to believe he was a part of their unorthodox family. After a lifetime of being dumped on callous uncaring relatives he was finally accepting the fact he was not only trusted by these six men but wanted as well. Had he found love and friendship only to die alone? He couldn't bring himself to think of never again seeing those twinkling green eyes and the infectious dimpled grin.

These six men he worked with had come to mean more to Chris than life itself. They had managed to repair his damaged heart and given him a new family. He couldn't....he wouldn't lose them. Any of them!

Buck was out of the truck before Chris brought it to a complete stop, pushing aside officers who tried to detain him, rushing for the stretcher being wheeled to the ambulance.

"It's not them!" He called to the others, the relief evident in his voice. "He gonna be okay?" Wilmington asked helping the attendants lift the gurney into the ambulance.

"He's got a chance."

*******

"Ezra?....Come on Ez talk to me." Tanner urged, gently leaning the man's upper body against his own chest trying to keep the cold concrete floor, where they'd unceremoniously dumped him, from seeping the last of the warmth from the gambler. Vin had quickly checked his friend finding no injuries except the large knot on his head where Mason's gun had met his skull.

The small amount of light filtering through the cracks in the old door had revealed the bolted barrier was the only way out of the tiny room.

"This is your fucking mess you clean it up!" The angry shouts from the other room could be heard plainly through the door. "We shoulda just took Davey out the usual way and said ta hell with it."

"Like I told ya before we couldn't take a chance he'd already talked to Tanner!" Mason snarled. "He used to be a cop and still has some powerful friends. If you'd killed him every law enforcement agency in the state would be lookin' right at the Diablos. My way he gets killed while resisting arrest and it takes care of both problems."

"This is what you call takin' care of!" Sandoval was practically screaming with rage. "Do whatever ya gotta but if any of this comes back at me, I promise you'll regret the day ya was born......And from now on we'll do things my way!"

The voices faded away as the men moved outside.

"Come on Ez, it's time to wake up now." The familiar voice reached through the pain free blackness pulling the con man back to consciousness.

"Aww hell...." Ezra groaned, the world spinning out of control as he forced open heavy lids, the faint light sending another shaft of pain rocketing through his head. "V-Vin?"

"Yeah Ez...Take it easy."

"You...k?"

The slurred question brought a small worried smile to the sharpshooter's face. "Fine...A little chilly but nothin' important."

Ezra gave him a tiny nod of thanks as the sharpshooter helped him sit up offering support when the gambler swayed dizzily. Wiggling his fingers he tried to restore some feeling into his shackled hands. Finding something to use for a lock pick wouldn't help if he couldn't use his fingers. His concerned gaze raked over Tanner searching for any hidden injuries. "Might I inquire why you are no longer wearing your jacket?"

"One of the guys decided they liked it....Wanted it as a souvenir to remember me by."

There was no reason to inform the ex-bounty hunter their best chance of being found by their comrades had gone the way of some young reprobate's taste in haberdashery. "Mr. Tanner at the first opportune moment I want you to make good your escape."

"What?"

"Run the first chance you get. Don't stop and don't look back."

Realizing what Ezra was implying, Vin vigorously shook his head, his voice becoming harsh. "Forget it Ezra! We're gettin' outta here together."

"Do you remember what I told you about Mason and the promise you made me." The gambler rushed on before Tanner could argue. "The gist of that promise was that you wouldn't let Mason kill you. I expect you to do whatever necessary to keep that promise."

"Ezra...." The sliding of the bolt halted Vin's response, both men stiffening as Mason threw the door open.

"Step back Tanner." The gun aimed at Tanner's head, he motioned the sharpshooter to the far corner.

When Vin hesitated, Ezra knew the fear he saw in the sharpshooter's eyes was for him rather than Tanner. Standish closed his eyes, hearing the detective pull back the hammer. "Please do it Vin. Keep your promise."

Fire blazing in his blue eyes, Vin slowly backed into the corner.

Without taking his eyes off the sharpshooter, Mason bent and grabbing the chain holding Ezra's wrists together yanked the con man to his feet. "A wrong move and your friend's dead a little earlier than planned." The threat was a low growl as he backed from the room pulling the gambler with him.

The con man stumbled to his knees, his eyes swiftly searching the room for anything he could use as a weapon when Mason shoved him away. Except for various pieces of litter and the camping lantern hanging from the ceiling the large room was essentially empty.

Vin rushed forward as the detective slammed the door sliding the bolt into place.

Swallowing hard, Ezra concentrated on keeping his infamous poker face in place, fighting the fear raging through him as Mason holstered the gun, reaching for a slim lead pipe leaning next to the door. A maniacal smile on his lips he tapped the pipe on his palm as he faced the con artist.

Ezra had seen that smile before. Seventeen years earlier in a dark alley.

"Time for a final lesson Standish."

Determination filling the emerald eyes, the southerner struggled to his feet. He'd be damned if he was going to die on his knees.

*******

Chris shifted restlessly next to the yellow crime tape, watching the forensics team collect evidence and listening to the officer’s reports. The victim had been found laying under the tree. Looked like at least two abdominal wounds. Forensics was speculating there might have been more than one victim and there were definitely indications of more than one perpetrator. There were signs of a struggle as someone was dragged away.

"Anyone know who he is?"

"Don't know his real name," One of the patrolmen volunteered, "but they call him Picasso."

"Chris! Chris come here!" JD's frantic call sent the team racing for the truck. The locator device Vin was carrying had shown the sharpshooter on the move as they had headed toward the original area. The computer expert had been watching the screen and trying to configure his next destination.

"JD?"

"He's headed back this way!" They all watched as the blip on the screen stopped.

Larabee glanced from the screen to his watch and back again. When the longest five minutes of his life passed without the blinking light once again moving across the screen, he decided it was long enough. "Where?"

"Here....Looks like the corner a Vandalia and Fifty Third street."

"The bar." All eyes turned to Josiah. "That's where the bar is the Diablos hang out in."

*******

Chaos reined as Larabee's team, guns drawn and followed by a small battalion of police officers burst through the doors of the bar, grabbing those who tried to escape throwing them back into their seats. The team swarmed through every room in the bar, checking the kitchen, storeroom, rest rooms and any closet, cabinet or small space a person could be held.

Larabee returned to the main area where the uniformed officers had the occupants lined up along the bar, patting them down tagging and adding confiscated weapons of all types to the growing arsenal on a corner table.

"Chris, I think Brother Sandoval here is the man you would like to have a word with." Dragging the smaller struggling man by the collar, Josiah pulled him over to where Chris stood, his eyes scanning the room fury and futility raging through his system.

Larabee's hand encircled the man's throat pushing him back into one of the vacant booths, effectively pinning him against the wall, his hold loosening only enough to allow the man the oxygen he required to remain conscious. His gun less than an inch from Manny's face, Chris' hazel eyes clearly displayed his deadly intent.

"You have two options here," The low growl was as audible as if Chris had shouted the words in the silent bar, "answer my questions or die."

"Fuck you!" Manny wheezed defiantly unwilling to show any weakness in front of his followers.

"Wrong answer." Larabee pulled back the hammer, placing the barrel against the younger man's forehead. "One more time, where's Vin Tanner?"

No one breathed, watching the drama unfolding before them, seeing the sweat break out on Manny's face, his breath quickening, the small flash of fear in his dark eyes. The officers exchanged worried glances, wondering if they should intervene, finally looking to Johnson who seemed satisfied to let Larabee do as he pleased.

"Don't think I know no sonuvabitch named Tanner."

Nathan grit his teeth and looked away waiting to hear the shot that would bring an end not only to Sandoval's life but their unique family as well.

"Buck?" The name was barely audible, Nathan's hand absently waving the air until it connected with the pilot's arm, afraid to take his eyes off the object hanging on the back of a chair.

Following the doctor's line of vision, Wilmington's heart dropped as his own gaze came to rest on the black jacket. Forcing himself to remain calm and appearing as casual as if this were an everyday occurrence, he crossed to whisper in Larabee's ear.

"I don't give a damn what ya do with the rest of 'em." Chris snarled. "But asshole here ain't goin' nowhere ‘cept ta hell if I don't get some satisfactory answers."

"Okay folks!" Wilmington turned to the spectators sounding for all the world like a carnival barker. "One by one grab your coats, jackets or whatever and follow the nice gentlemen in blue outside where chauffeurs provided at the city's expense will escort you to one of Colorado's finer facilities. There you will be pleased to discover that accommodations have been reserved for everyone."

JD looked at each of the older members of his team, uncertainty filling his eyes. Were they really going to leave Chris alone with Sandoval, knowing what would happen? Why were they more interested in watching the other members of the Diablos than stopping Larabee from doing something that would destroy them all?

"Nice jacket." Wilmington clapped a hand on the shoulder, his strong fingers digging painfully into the skin, of a man almost as tall as himself and skinny as a fence post. His shaggy shoulder length hair was greasy and his face pockmarked with Acne scars. "Where'd ya get it?"

"Your mama." The kid sneered. "In appreciation for services rendered."

Josiah cringed. Besides JD, the fun loving pilot was possibly the most amiable and easy going member of the team, but still waters run deep and they all knew there was two things you didn't do without facing dire consequences. You didn't mess with his family and you didn't insult his mother. Either act ignited a temper worse than Larabee's. It was just plain common sense, something this stupid kid obviously didn't possess. "Oh son ya just pulled the devil's tail."

Yanking the coat from the youth's hand, Buck tossed it to JD, who quickly rifled the pockets, as he shoved into the boy the momentum carrying them both backwards. The kid grunted as the small of his back slammed into the wooden bar. "That coat belongs to a friend of mine....Now this friend's a real generous fella who'll give ya the coat off his back if he thinks ya need it....Reckon he'd let gang bangin' scum like you freeze so there's only one way ya come ta have it."

"Buck!" Tightening his hold on the other man, Wilmington glanced at JD to see the electronics genius hold up a small round object.

The youth's eyes widened as Buck spoke in his ear, the words so low only he heard. "Chris'll kill Manny real quick he don't get the answers he wants, won't even blink, but you.....You ain't gonna be so lucky.....See Vin's real special ta Chris and even though deep down he don't believe it he's hopin' Tanner's alright.....Me I figure ya done killed him and Ez....Gonna use some techniques I learned in the jungles during my stint with the SEALs ta find out for sure.....When we get done you'll be beggin' us ta put ya outta your misery."

The kid paled, his dark eyes frantically searching the room for help to discover the only remaining occupants were Tanner's friends, Sandoval and himself.

Buck smiled, his voice returning to conversation level. "Ya know Josiah over there, his pa was a missionary, did a lot of work in South America and Africa....Ya wouldn't believe some a the ways they got a makin' people talk and he learned everyone a them....and Nathan, that fella there....He's a doctor, a damn good one and real handy with knifes, scalpels and other sharp instruments....Bet he could take every inch a skin off ya as easy as pealin' a banana."

As if on cue, Nathan pulled a wicked looking hunting knife from the sheath on his belt and calmly began cleaning his fingernails.

Struggling to bring enough saliva into his dry mouth to allow him to swallow, the rest of the color drained from the youth's face as he realized these men weren't the type to make idle threats. His eyes darted to Sandoval, begging for help.

"Open yer mouth Jinx and I'll kill ya myself!" Sandoval shouted, flinching as Chris pressed the barrel harder against his head.

"Hey Chris....Why don't ya take ol’ Manny there out back.....When yer done with him, we'll all have some fun with Jinx."

No one said a word, their eyes on Jinx as Larabee pulled the Diablos leader to his feet and shoving the gun against his spine steered the man to the back of the bar.

"Better go with him JD." A slow smile spread across Wilmington's handsome face. "Ya know what to do when he's done. Dump the evidence in the usual place."

"Save some of the fun for me." JD pulled his weapon and started after the team leader. "Ezra told me about this trick his uncle used to do when someone wouldn't co-operate with the family. Ya use piano wire and sandbags. Wanna see if it works."

"Sure enough kid." The sarcastic sneer on his face as Buck focused his full attention on Jinx would have done Standish proud. "Ezra don't talk about it much but he's got some pretty vicious family....besides us."

"Who you kiddin' Buck," Josiah chuckled. "They make us look like amateurs."

"That's true....Hell, his mama makes Ma Barker look like Mother Teresa and she sure keeps a close eye on her darlin' boy."

Less than a minute had elapsed between the door closing behind Dunne when the first of three gunshots rang out.

Only Wilmington's strong grip kept Jinx on his feet as first he jumped, startled by the sound and then sagged in fear, his bladder emptying itself, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

"Wasn't me I swear. All we did was follow orders. He was alive when we left." Tears flowing freely, the words tumbled over themselves not able to leave his tongue fast enough. "Him and that other fella. They was both alive. We didn't even hurt 'em other than a couple punches ta keep 'em in line. Swear to God!!!"

"Where?" The trembling increased as Jinx glanced to where Larabee stood, weapon in hand, his jade eyes frigid. "Where did you take 'em."

"Ya gotta protect me. They'll kill me they find out I told ya anything."

"And I'll kill if ya don't." There was no threat in Larabee's words. It was a simple statement of fact. Buck released his hold letting the kid sag to his hands and knees as Chris slowly moved forward. "Where are they?"

"Old junk yard. West a town....Been closed a few years....Benson's Salvage....."

*******

"Ezra!" The name was nothing more than a sob, Vin long ago having shouted himself hoarse, his hands bloody from having pounded on the door as he watched through the cracks while Mason slowly and methodically tried to beat the con man to death.

The detective, his chest heaving with exertion, stood over Standish's crumpled motionless body, a small smile of satisfaction on his face.

The gambler hadn't been able to stifle the agonized scream and Vin had cringed hearing the bone in Ezra's right arm snap as Mason swung the pipe like a major league ball player.

Ezra as was his nature had pushed the deranged detective, questioning his manhood, his parentage, his intelligence and his sanity finally achieving his goal when Mason explained his association not only with the Diablos but Richmond as well. Mason had punctuated each sentence with either the pipe or his fists.

Tanner had watched as Ezra had fought back, getting in a few good licks of his own, using his feet, and smashing his head into the larger man's face, splitting his lip and breaking his nose. Vin had watched helplessly as Mason pulled the con artist to him, beating on the smaller man as if he were working the heavy bag in the neighborhood gym than tossing him aside only to repeat the process.

The sharpshooter realized Ezra was trying to direct his stumbling path, scooting or crawling away as the detective continued his tirade, working his way toward the door preventing Tanner's escape.

Vin's tears flowed freely, unable to look away, as it took longer each time Ezra staggered to his feet.

"Stay down Ezra," Tanner had prayed. "Please stay down.....Play possum damnit."

Pulling the gun from its holster, Mason crossed the room and slid aside the bolt stepping back, the weapon trained on the doorway, giving a quick glance at the body a few feet away. He felt a momentary twinge of admiration. Standish had put up a hell of a good fight. Mason wasn't exactly sure when he'd become aware the only thing keeping the gambler on his feet was his desire to free Tanner. "Step out here real slow and easy Tanner."

Vin opened the barrier and stepped into the larger room automatically moving toward the battered body of his friend.

"Stay right there."

"Fuck you!" Vin growled. "I'm-"

"You're gonna stand right there or I'll put a bullet in his brain right now." Tanner froze as Mason's aim changed. The large man moved to stand over Ezra again turning the weapon back on Vin. "Don't worry, he ain't dead.....yet. On your feet Standish, we're not done." Mason ordered twisting a hand in the back of Ezra's collar he lifted the man up.

Choking on the blood running down the back of his throat, bile rising as the world spun haphazardly on its axis, Ezra trembled with exertion before he was able to push the fresh waves of agony aside enough to concentrate on forcing his legs to obey the orders his mind was relaying.

"Look at him Standish." Grabbing a handful of hair the detective forced Ezra's head up. "Look at him.....Found yourself a friend did ya?....I never would a figured it.....He must be as crazy as Watson was....thinkin' someone like you is worth anything." He wrapped an arm around the gambler's throat, his gun still trained on Tanner. "He's gonna die Standish....Ya know why.....Cause a you....He's gonna die cause you care about him....."

"Nooo." Ezra groaned his eyes frantically trying to focus on Vin, his mind searching for a way to save the sharpshooter.

"He'd a probably got killed anyway, resistin' arrest and all...It's just a bonus that I get to show ya again what happens when ya cross me....Soon as I found out he was stupid enough to hang 'round with the likes of a you, it just confirmed he wasn't worth the trouble a-"

"NO!" Reacting instinctively out of fear for Tanner, Ezra threw himself backward against the larger man, swinging his bound hands at Mason's gun arm. He was vaguely aware of the shot ringing through the room as he and Mason hit the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, the weapon sliding across the concrete.

Anger, fear and hatred fueled his fight as he smashed his fists, his elbows, his head and his feet into the body struggling beneath him. The glint of metal caught his attention and driving his knee into Mason's groin Ezra scrambled for the weapon a few feet away.

Hearing the howl of pain and rage, the gambler's hand closed around the gun and he rolled onto his back emptying the revolver into the powerful body looming over him.

Ezra wasn't sure how many times he pulled the trigger before he realized the hammer was continuously slamming against an empty chamber and his nemesis was laying within reach, his dead eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. The gun clattered to the floor as the con artist struggled to rise. "V-Vin?"

His heart shattered, panic streaking through him as his glassy emerald gaze settled on Tanner's inert body, blood welling from the chest wound.

*******

Dust swirled through the air adding another layer of grime to the rusted out junk, as the line of vehicles slid to a stop behind Tanner's rented truck and Mason's sedan parked near the rundown building in the middle of the rubbish yard, the wail of the ambulance siren fading away.

Chris hadn't ordered silence going in. He didn't give a damn if Mason heard them coming. Hopefully, if Vin and Ezra were still alive it would give the detective an incentive to keep them that way.

Larabee's team immediately dispersed, taking various positions surrounding the shack as he had Johnson dispatch his officers to cover any and all possible exits out of the junkyard.

Staying low and with Buck at his back, Chris crossed the open area, ducking under the tiny crust covered window high in the door. A quick cautious peek only revealed nothing could be seen through the filthy pane of glass. Placing his ear against the door, Larabee's heart skipped several beats, certain the muffled sound he heard was a frightened, pleading southern drawl

"Fuck!" Throwing caution to the wind, he stepped back and slammed his foot against the door, splintering the frame.

Larabee stood motionless, his gun hand slowly lowering to his side, frozen in horror at the sight before him as the door swung open.

Vin lay on the floor in a puddle of blood, his face turned toward the door was a ghastly gray. Ezra, begging him to hang on was performing one man CPR.

"Medics!" Buck shoved Chris through the entrance galvanizing the blond into action as the rest of the team rushed into the building.

"Ezra! Let me take over Ezra." Nathan ordered dropping to his knees next to the sharpshooter.

"Come on Vin don't do this...." His bruised face wet with tears and blood, Ezra continued the compressions. "Don't leave us....Larabee'll kill me himself....Won't matter though....We need ya Vin......Please.....Don't leave me....Please don't leave me!"

"Ezra?....Ezra let us help him." Realizing Standish was so focused on Tanner, he didn't even know they were there, Nathan nodded to Buck and Josiah.

"NO!!!!" Ezra desperately tried to twist away from the strong hands pulling him away, preventing him from helping his friend. Unable to use his hands, Standish kicked out hearing a grunt of pain as his foot smashed into flesh and bone.

"Sonuvabitch!" Wilmington howled in pain, automatically releasing his hold forcing Josiah to wrap his powerful arms around the fighting gambler. "Little bastard bit me!"

Retaining his hold, Josiah jerked his head aside barely avoiding a broken nose as Ezra stomped down on his instep throwing his head backwards at the face of his attacker. "Ezra!"

Trying to avoid the flailing legs, Buck placed a hand on either side of the con man's damaged face, holding his head still and forcing the smaller man to look at him. "Ezra? It's us.....It's alright....Everything's gonna be fine...."

"Vin!...Have ta....help...."

"Nathan's with Vin....Ezra they're gonna help him.....Calm down....They're gonna take good care of him..." Buck kept his voice calm and soothing.

"B-Buck?....B-B-" Ezra blinked rapidly trying to focus on the person in front of him.

"Yeah Ezra, it's me. We're all here."

"Vin..."

"It's alright brother, Nathan and Chris are with him." Josiah loosened his hold as the gambler's struggles slowly ceased. "Ya did a good job Ezra....Let them help him now....."

Ezra pulled away from the preacher as everyone's attention returned to the medics working on Vin. He was vaguely aware of Bill Mason sitting on the floor next to his brother's body and the presence of several men he didn't know.

The gambler cowered behind Josiah when one of the medics glanced his way with concerned eyes. He didn't need the man's help. Vin did!

Standish flinched, backing away as the sharpshooter's lean body arched with the electric shock of the paddles pressed to his torso. He heard Nathan's quiet orders, given in that calm steadfast way he had. Saw the medics monitoring vitals, inserting IV's, and adjusting the frequency on the paddles. He watched as Chris, one hand resting on Tanner's forehead offering comfort, the other rhythmically squeezing the bag attached to the breathing tube Nathan had inserted. Larabee looked damn near as pale as Vin, a single tear rolling down his cheek as his lips moved in soft encouragement.

He continued to back away, shaking his head in denial, wanting to block out the sight of his friend dying, praying he'd wake up in his soft bed to find this was just an extension of the nightmares that often plagued his sleep.

"Clear." That single word ringing in his ears, Ezra fled through the damaged doorway.

Standish stumbled past the piles of parts, trash, stripped and smashed cars, trucks and other abandoned vehicles unaware and uncaring where his staggering steps took him as long as it was away from the scene of his living nightmare. He had failed. Failed Chris. Failed the team. Failed himself and worst of all he had failed Tanner.

Ezra had given Chris his word he wouldn't let the history between Mason and himself hurt Vin. He had promised himself he would keep his friend safe. He hadn't kept either promise.

"Forgive me Vin." He had no doubt the kind hearted sharpshooter would never blame him. Would have insisted there was nothing to forgive but he would have been wrong. Tanner would have forgiven him but Ezra could never forgive himself.

The gambler sank to his knees as the adrenaline that had surged through his system, allowing him to concentrate solely on Vin drained away, taking his strength and the last of his energy to be replaced with overwhelming pain, terror and grief.

*******

As Nathan followed the stretcher into the back, Chris slammed the doors, and climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance. "JD follow us in my truck. Buck, we'll meet you guys at the hospital. Mark and Leon can clean up here. They can ask Ezra their questions after he's checked out."

"We'll meet you there." Buck nodded hurrying back to the small shack as the ambulance sped toward the hospital, its siren destroying the early morning peacefulness. He glanced at his watch. Just after six. The sky was a dark gray as the sun began it's journey attempting to push back the blackness.

"Spread out and find him damnit!" Josiah's baritone roar sent police officers scurrying in all directions, the beams from their flashlights bobbing in the darkness as Buck turned back to the building.

"Josiah?"

"Ezra's gone."

"What the hell you mean gone?" Damn! How had they let this happen? Wilmington couldn't believe that even as worried as they were about Vin, no one had noticed the gambler's disappearance. Buck replayed the scene in his mind, picturing the con man when they'd first pulled him away from Tanner. He saw the blood and bruises, the split lips, and swollen eyes. He remembered the blood trailing down his face from an ugly gash on his forehead. Hell! They hadn't even thought to take off the metal cuffs encircling the southerner's wrists.

"Gone! As in not here, vanished, disappeared, no where in sight." The preacher's voice was laced with guilt and worry.

*******

Swimming on the edge of consciousness, Ezra's world consisted of pain and confusion as he weakly scooted deeper into the shadows. He had to hide. Mason was calling him....As long as the detective was searching for him, Vin could escape....No Tanner was dead.....Mason's voice faded to be replaced with the angry accusations of Chris Larabee....to be replaced once again by the soft comforting tones of Tanner telling him to trust them.

*******

"Ezra!.....Ezra!" Calling his name, Sanchez and Wilmington made their way along a path in the weeds certain the gambler had come this way spotting a smear of fresh blood on the fender of a junk Toyota. Each of them hated taking the time to be so cautious but the southerner was hurt and terrified and with the wily con man that could be a dangerous combination.

"Ezra?....Oh God!"

Buck whirled, seeing what had caused the exclamation as Josiah dropped to his hands and knees, the flashlight beam settling on a dirty white running shoe.

Josiah knelt beside the younger man, gently pulling the gambler from where he was curled under the remains of an old dump truck.

"Noooo....n-no....l-lev m-me....lone...." Standish weakly struggled against the strong hands.

"I'll get the truck." Buck raced back the direction they'd come.

"Easy Ezra, you're gonna be okay. Let's get these cuffs off ya and we'll go see Nathan." Sanchez soothed as he unlocked the shackles easing them from the bloody and swollen wrists. Ezra and Vin both detested and feared hospitals so the others had learned long ago to tell them Nathan would take care of their injuries.

How had they let this happen? How had he? Josiah loved each of these men as family but somehow the sneaky southerner had become more. Ezra had stirred the paternal feelings in the preacher. More than the others, like a precocious child, too curious and headstrong for his own good the gambler needed a strong hand to keep him on the right path. While the others pushed, pulled, prodded, demanded, teased, encouraged, wiggled and needled what they wanted and needed from the con man thereby making a special place for themselves in his carefully guarded heart, Josiah used the gentle guidance of a loving father to keep the gambler in line and heading the right direction.

Damnit! He swore at himself for his ignorance. Why hadn't he paid more attention to the gambler's condition? Why hadn't he considered how Ezra would react to what was happening with Vin. He knew the Texan was special to Ezra. They were like two sides of a coin. Vin with his uncanny insight had been the first to work his way past the walls that guarded Ezra's heart.

As the SUV rocked to a stop, Josiah gathered the unconscious gambler in his arms. Buck slid the side door open, helping him ease their friend's battered body onto the back seat. As the preacher knelt on the floor beside him Wilmington vaulted into the driver's seat, flipping on the blue flashing light attached to the dash, and stomped the gas pedal sending up a shower of dirt and gravel as he spun and headed out the junkyard gates.

*******

"They're here!" JD shouted as Josiah's van skidded to a stop at the emergency room doors. The young man's face paled as his best friend gently lifted and shifted the gambler's limp body in Josiah's strong arms.

"We need a doctor!" Without thinking JD grabbed a gurney from the hallway, dragging a protesting nurse along as the preacher entered the emergency room lowering his bloody burden to the wheeled gurney. Slapping the P.A. button, paging a trauma team, the nurse began taking vital signs, as attendants appeared pushing Chris Josiah and JD aside, steering the mobile bed through the automatic doors.

An older woman, the badge on her uniform reading J. Crane RN stopped them just inside the doors, gently but firmly, informing them they had to wait in the outer room and someone would let them know as soon as there was any news. It was the second time in an hour she'd said those words to Larabee and the sneer on his handsome face said he was getting damn tired of hearing them.

"What the hell took ya so long?" JD questioned as Buck having parked the truck joined them. "We thought you'd be right behind us."

"We had to find him first." Wilmington only had to follow the direction of Larabee's dark gaze to a closed door a few feet away to know where Tanner was being tended. "How's Vin?"

"Don't know yet." JD wrapped his arms around himself, praying they weren't going to lose any part of their family. He suddenly frowned, his roommate's words registering. "What do ya mean, ya had to find him?"

"Later kid." Buck moved to follow Chris who had slipped through the doors and was watching the trauma team work on Vin, his eyes swiveling to where medical personnel rushed to and from the room where Ezra had been placed. Taking his arm Buck pulled him back into the hallway as a second nurse pointedly followed and began quoting chapter and verse of emergency room policy, ordering them to leave. Gathering JD and Josiah, the nurse politely guided them to a small lounge normally used by the staff. They'd all dealt with these men before and has the head nurse had once explained, they wouldn't be put off and would remain as close to their friends as humanly possible. With an exasperated sigh she had pointed out it was easier to work around them than try and keep them out.

*******

The minutes dragged by, each tick of the clock above the door seemed to take an eternity. An oppressive silence had settled over the small room, when Sanchez finished his tale of the search for the con man.

Josiah sat his eyes locked on the door, willing someone to enter and assure them their family would remain intact. Chris stood motionless staring sightlessly out the small window overlooking the crowded parking lot.

Wilmington watched Chris with concern, recognizing the signs. Larabee was struggling with himself, fighting not to shut down. Fear of losing a member of his new family was causing the somber man to withdraw into himself. If Tanner or Standish didn't survive, Buck knew Larabee wouldn't either.

Buck's eyes turned to the unusually quiet youngest member of their team.

The normal nervous energy that usually consumed his roommate with constant fidgeting and run on talking, revealed itself only in the twisting of the younger man's fingers as, like the preacher, he sat staring at the door. Wilmington could sense something was bothering the kid other than worry for their friends but he wasn't prepared for the quick flash of anger which settled in the youngster's dark eyes as JD glanced at Larabee's stiff back. Biting his lower lip as if he wanted to say something then slightly shaking his head the anger gave way to guilt as he turned away from their leader and focused on the door once more.

Needing for a release for his own worry and seeing the angry look in JD's dark eyes as he gazed at Chris again, Buck took Dunne by the arm and pulled the younger man into the hall, quietly closing the door. "All right, JD, what the hell's goin' on?"

JD stared at the floor, scuffing at it with his worn sneaker. "I-"

"Being pissed about what happened to Vin and Ez is understandable but you seem to be pissed at the wrong person."

JD's gaze dropped to the floor, suddenly finding his shoestrings fascinating. "Ain't nothin'."

"It's something! Chris say somethin' outta the way or-"

"Damnit, Buck, why didn't he ask?" JD implored, looking up at the man he considered an older brother with a puzzled hurt expression. "Back at that bar....Chris didn't even ask about Ezra. Not once! It was like he only wanted to know about Vin. Like he was only concerned about Vin..."

Wilmington inhaled deeply, releasing a long weary sigh. "Aww kid,...."

"I ain't a kid Buck! He had Sandoval pinned against the wall with a gun to his head and he never once mentioned Ezra! They was both missin' but he never even asked. I know Vin is his-"

"You don't know a damn thing kid!" Buck growled, dragging him further from the door. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts and get his own emotions under control, Wilmington scrubbed a hand over his face. JD was so damn tender hearted sometimes. "Let me ask ya somethin'?...Do ya honestly think Chris didn't give a damn about Ez?"

"I..." JD shuffled from one foot to the other, finally shrugging slightly. "No."

"Listen to me kid....I know it's hard to understand but at that bar Chris was doing exactly what Ezra wanted him to do." He smiled at the confusion in the dark eyes. "Remember what he said in the truck....when you asked why Ezra put the locator bug on Vin if they were together."

Dunne frowned but nodded. "He said Ezra wanted us to be able to find Vin if they got separated."

"That's right....Ezra wanted. " He placed a large hand on Dunne's shoulder. "Ezra wanted us to find Vin....He didn’t give a rat's ass about himself but he did about Vin. Ezra wanted Vin found. Chris knew and understood that. How do you think Ezra would have reacted if we had ignored what was right in front of us and gone looking for him instead....He'd a been madder than a horny rooster in a empty hen house...."

JD smiled at the analogy. Only Buck.

"It wasn't that Chris didn't care or wasn't worried about Ezra but Sandoval knows Tanner." Buck went on. "Finding Vin's jacket only confirmed they knew where he was and I can tell you without a moment's hesitation or doubt that Chris was praying Ezra was with him."

JD nodded, unable to meet Buck's steady gaze. "I know you're right." He admitted softly. "I just keep thinkin' how much it would hurt Ezra's feelin's if he knew..."

"I think Ezra would understand. Chris was givin' him the respect he deserves....Don't ya ever think Chris cares more about any one person on this team than another. Him and Ez may fight like they was on opposite sides at the Battle a Bull Run but that don't mean they don't give damn about each other." Gripping the smaller man's chin, he forced JD to look at him. "So how come you're feelin' guilty?"

"Damnit Buck! None a us noticed!" JD pulled away and yanking the hat from his head ran a hand through his hair. "We all stood there and watched 'em workin' on Vin and nobody thought about Ezra....Hell, he was scared and hurt and none of us even saw him leave."

"I know kid." Buck nodded sadly. "Unfortunately I can't help you with that....I'm just as guilty as everybody else...The only explanation I have is that Ezra was movin' under his own power but what happened JD,...That's somethin' we all gotta deal with on our own." He grinned, holding out the hand, still bearing the gambler's teeth marks. "Boy fights dirty when necessary."

*******

Wilmington blew out a long breath his concerned gaze on his oldest friend. Chris hadn't moved from in front of the window. Buck hadn't felt so helpless since Sarah and Adam's deaths, recognizing the same sense of withdrawal Larabee had adopted that horrific night. He hadn't been able to help Chris then and feared he wouldn't be able to save him now. He knew if something didn't happen soon to force the man into action, to give him something to focus on, it would be too late.

As if in answer to his silent prayer, a scream of sorrow ripped through the air, followed by the sound of equipment bouncing across the floor and hitting the wall.

"VIIIIINNNNN!"

"Fuck!" Galvanized into action, Chris bolted from the room, following the scurrying attendants into a treatment room.

Waving a pair of sharp medical scissors in front of him in a desperate attempt to keep everyone away, Ezra was backed into a corner looking every bit like a wounded trapped animal. Swaying unsteadily, the walls his only means of support, the fear filled emerald eyes darted frantically about the room, searching for an escape route. His broken right arm hung uselessly at his side as blood dripped from the hand gripping the scissors, the remains of the IV shunt hanging haphazardly by a single piece of tape.

Chris froze inside the door, his eyes flashing. "What the hell!"

"He came to and just freaked." Haskell a young resident who'd treated each of the men at least once stated quickly knowing Larabee's reputation. "Hell, I don't know what's even keeping him on his feet."

Moving past the nurses and attendants who were righting equipment and scooping surgical instruments and bandages off the floor, Larabee cautiously approached the con man motioning everyone out of the room.

Haskell hesitated in the doorway as Chris turned back to his injured teammate.

"Ezra?.....Whatcha doin' there Ezra, practicin' medicine without a license? That's against the law ya know." Chris teased, trying to calm the man uncertain if the gambler realized what was happening as he blinked rapidly, struggling to focus, his head cocked to one side. "C'mon Ezra....It's Chris....Listen to my voice.....Ya hear me? Concentrate on my voice....Ezra.....It's Chris...."

"He's going into shock Mr. Larabee. I can't guarantee he'll even hear you let alone understand." The intern spoke up, his voice low.

"Listen to my voice Ezra....Focus on my voice...." Larabee shook his head, his concentration focused on his friend. "It's Chris, Ezra."

The wild swinging of the scissors slowed, as the gambler swayed breathing hard. "C-Chris?"

"It's alright Ezra....I'm right here." The southerner shrank back trying to push himself into the wall as Larabee took another wary step forward. "Listen to me Ezra....Everything's gonna be alright....You've been hurt and these people just want ta help you."

Shaking his head, Ezra pressed his body harder against the wall as his world tilted wildly. "Nooo.....N-no.....Vin....help...."

Chris' voice remained soft as he reassured the gambler. "They're taking care of Vin....Nathan says he's gonna be fine." The lie rolled off his lips as easily as if he were giving the southerner the time of day. Ezra needed to believe or he'd die before allowing them anywhere near him. "Vin's gonna be just fine....He'll be bitchin' ta get outta here soon....and fully expectin' you to help him.....It's gonna be alright..."

"H-help?...V-" Ezra closed his eyes, momentarily lowering the weapon when pain washed over him.

Larabee inched another step closer. "That's right...You have to let them fix ya up so you can help Vin sneak outta here."

"Mr. Larabee," Hearing the urgency in the intern's voice Larabee turned to look at him as Haskell stepped closer to Chris, holding the test results a nurse had handed him. "He's bleeding internally, we need to treat him now."

Trying to rein in his temper as the stubborn southerner refused to surrender the blond leader turned back to Standish. "Come on Ezra, I'll stay with ya the entire time, just let them take care of you." Chris wheedled, slowly moving several steps closer. "I promise we won't let ya be alone. I promise ya Ez," he pleaded, tears cracking the edge of his voice. "Please. Please...just please let them help you."

"Chris." Nathan pushed past Buck and Josiah who had taken up positions blocking the door. "They're taking Vin up to surgery."

"Tell him Nathan..." Larabee's tone brooked no argument, as he indicated the trembling con man. "Tell Ezra, Vin's gonna be just fine."

Knowing Ezra's ability to detect a lie, Nathan swallowed hard, hoping he sounded encouraging. "Of course he is Ezra. Hell, he's already tried to talk the doctors into leaving the bullet where it is...He's worried about you Ezra...Wanted me to come check on ya. Wanted me ta make sure they were patchin' ya up."

"You hear that Ezra....Nathan says he's gonna be fine..." Chris held out his hand, hoping the gambler would surrender the makeshift weapon. "Cause a you Ezra."

"Ezra!"

The men's horrified voices merged as one when the scissors dropped from the southerner's fingers as Ezra clutched frantically at his stomach unable to stifle the cry of pain before his eyes rolled up in his head and his body folded in on itself.

Larabee lunged forward catching Standish and easing the younger man to the floor.

"He's hemorrhaging." Shoving the team members aside Haskell knelt beside the injured man and pressed strong gentle fingers firmly against the gambler's abdomen. "Sally call surgery and tell 'em we're on our way. Let's get that IV started and get him prepped. Someone show these gentleman where they can wait. Move it people!"

*******

At Haskell's request, one of the nurses had arranged for the remainder of Larabee's team to have use of a conference room on the surgical floor, ascertaining it would be more comfortable than the public lounge as well as giving them the privacy they required while waiting for news of their friends. The doctor knew any injury involving someone in law enforcement usually meant police and press swarming like locusts all over the hospital.

Judge Travis had arrived shortly after they were escorted to the room and immediately took control. He wasn't stupid enough to think they would follow his orders and eat breakfast but he had a variety of pastries and plenty of coffee delivered.

Hearing the nurse's apologetic refusal when Larabee requested that Vin and Ezra be placed in the same room after surgery, Travis had approached the hospital administrator and arranged for a special room to be prepared on the intensive care floor. He had calmly explained not only would it be better mentally for the patients but it would also be easier for Larabee's team to protect them as they were vital eyewitnesses in an upcoming high profile case.

Nerves on the ragged edge and strained to the breaking point by the seemingly endless waiting, all eyes turned to the opening door, breaths released and prayers resumed when Mark Johnson, rather than one of the surgeons stepped into the room.

"How are they?"

"Don't know yet." Buck shrugged when Larabee resumed his incessant pacing having given no indication of hearing the officer.

"Chris?....Chris, we need ta talk." Mark shifted uncomfortably hefting the leather case he carried onto the oval table. "They found this in Tanner's rental....

"What the hell's that?" Larabee demanded moving closer to stare at the case as if it were some alien creature.

The others gathered around the table as Johnson flipped open the lid revealing a reel to reel recorder. "Seems, your man Ezra was wired." He grimaced having already listened to parts of the tape, he was certain what these men's reactions would be but....."Think you should hear this." He reached out to flip the play button.

*******

Chris sat his expression a study in impassivity, unable to look at the others as the tape ran. They listened, hearing Mason and Sandoval's muffled argument through the door. They listened to Ezra asking in fact begging Vin to keep his promise. Only Larabee didn't react as they heard Ezra's first scream of agony when the bone in his arm snapped with the impact of the lead pipe. They listened as Ezra provoked Mason into describing his involvement with the Diablos, how he provided them not only with protection but connections to several narcotics and weapons dealers.

They listened as he told the man he was using for a punching bag how it had been sheer luck when his brother had called to cancel lunch. He'd been keeping Richmond one jump ahead of the authorities for years but until that morning hadn't even known the man was being investigated. In the background they could hear Tanner screaming and pleading with him to stop. They could hear the Texan cursing Mason and begging Ezra to run, to do anything to get away.

They listened in silence as Mason talked about setting Vin up for Davey's murder and how none of it would have been necessary if Tanner had minded his own damn business. Why the hell should he care if Manny blew away some little spic with more guts than brains?

They listened to the detective tell Ezra, that Vin was going to die because he, like Jamie Watson, had chosen to be the gambler's friend. They listened to Ezra's heartbreaking scream of denial. JD jumped, Travis cringed, Buck, Nathan and Josiah all jerked back at the sound of the gunshot. Only Chris, staring at the revolving tape made no move and no sound.