Judge Travis’ gaze moved slowly around the table, studying each of the men gathered . He had had doubts when it came to a couple of Larabee’s choices, but he'd promised the ex-SEAL free rein when it came to the selection of those who would comprise his special team.
The jurist had read the background information on each chosen man, watched several of the training exercises Chris had devised and had seen the high test results for all the legal technicalities they needed to learn, including the chain of command and regulations for each law enforcement agency in the country.
Now, he realized, seeing the seven men gathered here, laughing and joking, perhaps Larabee had chosen more wisely than he’d given him credit for.
His gaze settled on John Daniel Dunne. The youngest member sat between Wilmington and Sanchez and Orrin had to suppress a small smile as the young man’s head swiveled from one side to the other as he listened first to his PO, then to his roommate. Larabee had balked when Travis had suggested the boy, but it was plain, the young man had found his place.
His gaze moved on, resting briefly on each of the other men.
Josiah Sanchez. He had known the man's name and his reputation before he had resigned from the FBI. It appeared he had decided to join Larabee’s team and if JD’s actions were any indication, the ex-priest was going to be a father figure, not only to the boy, but to them all with his steady presence.
Buck Wilmington. Travis had actually cringed when Larabee had named him as his first team choice since he knew the pilot’s reputation with women and was all too well versed in his indiscretion with General Hardesty’s daughter. The Judge and the general were old drinking buddies and Orrin had heard an all too vivid accounting of Wilmington long before Larabee broached his name. But meeting the womanizer, seeing him taking young Dunne under his wing, the judge had to admit to himself, he had been wrong.
Nathan Jackson, The young medical intern had passed up his own practice to accept Larabee’s offer, and the judge puzzled on his decision, wondering why, but he realized perhaps Jackson saw a need for his services here as well as a place to be his own man. The judge had been just as thrilled as Larabee to learn the man had volunteered to handle all the team’s business accounts and paperwork as well.
Vin Tanner. the long haired tracker sat next to Chris, his body language a little tense. The judge had warned Larabee he was a loner and would never make a team player, but the Texan had already proven him wrong. He had heard of the devious practical jokes the young man had pulled on his fellow teammates. He knew Tanner wasn’t much older than Dunne and seemed to have thrived under the other men's influence, taking great delight in having this unusual family of brothers.
Ezra Standish. The Judge’s gaze lingered the longest on the con man. If Larabee had balked at Dunne, then he himself had argued loudest and longest against the gambler. Through the legal system, he was well acquainted with the young southerner’s mother known to every fraud and bunco squad in the south and several in other parts of the country. Travis believed her son to be cut from the same cloth. He had relented to Larabee’s desire for a team con man, never believing the gambler would ever accept the offer, deeming it beneath him, or that it did not pay enough. Yet here he was, quietly gathered at the table with the other six, a little aloof, and standoffish, but there nonetheless.
He had been the last to join and worked hard to catch up and complete the training with the others. For some reason, the judge wasn’t going to hold his breath on the man staying. He figured he would soon get bored and run out first chance he got. But, that would be Chris’ problem. Hopefully, the gambler's desertion wouldn't cost one of the others their lives.
Chris Larabee. A small smile ghosted over Travis’ face as he saw the team leader laughing softly at the punch line of some joke JD had just mangled. He had a hard time believing this man was the same hollow eyed, lost man who had approached him in this very restaurant not six months earlier. There was a sparkle in the man’s hazel eyes, and a new vitality about him. This Christopher Larabee was remincent of the officer Travis had met years earlier.
The judge knew he had been right. This was a person men would follow and give their loyalty. These men. Larabee had chosen them for their special talents, and something more. Perhaps their spirit, or maybe for the potential only he himself saw in each of them.
The judge gained his feet and the conversation silenced as seven pairs of eyes looked his way. He cleared his throat. "Well, boys, I guess we all know why we’re here." He waved his hand about the room. They were the only patrons and the young proprietress was personally serving them. Travis motioned her closer. "I want you to mean your landlord. This is Inez and she has graciously leased the top floor of this building for your offices." He looked sternly at Wilmington, "And you, sir, hands off!"
The men all laughed and Inez flushed. "No problem, senor. I know how to handle his kind." She flashed a wicked smile and hurried away to get the rest of their meal.
"I’m in love," Buck whispered, clutching at his heart.
"You’re always in love," JD quipped, ducking the swipe Buck made at his head.
"Perhaps Brother Buck simply mistakes lust for love," Josiah offered sagely.
Travis cleared his throat again, silencing the discussion. "As you know, I have been authorized to activate this team--you gentlemen--whenever the President or I deem it necessary. You will have unlimited jurdistion in the states, and if required, anywhere in the world." He picked up his briefcase containing the files of paperwork each man had signed and opening it, withdrew seven items. Gathering them, he slowly moved about the table, placing one of the items in front of each man.
Their expressions sober, no one made a move to pick up the objects as the Judge returned to his place at the head of the table. "Gentlemen, if you would stand and raise your right hand, and repeat after me..." Chairs scraped back as they stood, doing as he asked. "....By the power vested in me, I happily attest each of you to be a member of the Presidential Task Force." He finished, raising his glass in a toast and smiling as he nodded toward the table. "You might need those."
Chris reached for the black leather case in front of him first and slowly opened it. Contained inside was a golden badge and ID. He smiled as he looked up, seeing each man’s reaction to their own shield.
"Well, Chris," the judge turned to him, "you did good. I’d say you have a helluva team here."
"Yes, sir, I do," Chris nodded, "and we won’t let you down."
"Hell, Chris, I knew that the first time I spoke to you. You've already accomplished a magnificent task just bringing this team of seven together."
"Hey that's pretty good." JD piped up. "We can be the Magnificent Seven."
"That name's already taken!" Buck playfully slapped the youngest member on the back of the head. "Ain't ya ever seen that movie?"
"Well the judge said we are!" Dunne argued.
"Actually what he said was that Mr. Larabee did a magnificent job putting together this particular group of individuals." Ezra corrected. "Besides, we're more than magnificent...I would judge that when it comes to each of our particular talents, we are the creme de la creme."
Travis rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. Larabee was definitely going to have his hands full with this bunch.
"He just called ya a creme puff Buck." Tanner quietly joked, nudging Wilmington with his elbow. "Course with all the donuts ya eat he may a hit the nail right on the head."
"If that ain't the pot callin' the kettle black." The womanizer laughed, the return nudge almost knocking the sharpshooter off the chair. "Least I won't be lemon filled."
"I believe Ezra was expressing his belief that we are the best...The elite." Josiah chuckled.
"That's even better than magnificent." JD grinned.
Judge Travis pushed to his feet, drawing the men's attention once more. "I really hate to leave, but I have a pressing matter which cannot be delayed further. You are all expected in Washington on Monday. I'll see you there. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening."
Amidst a chorus of thank yous and goodbyes, the older man left and the seven men settled back around the table and the meal Inez served.
As their talk and laughter resumed, Chris Larabee sat back and sighed. He wasn't exactly sure what this little project of the Judge's entailed, but as his hazel eyed gaze moved about the table, he knew in his heart, no matter what he had gotten into, with these men, he would always have someone at his back and at his side to get him out... And it felt good.....
The judge was right: he had a helluva team...an elite team.
Yep, The Elite Seven.
He smiled. It was a new beginning. They would go where they were needed and do what ever was necessary to complete the requested job. They were a team no one would be able to defeat. They would kick some ass.... if they didn't kill each other first!
THE END...or the Beginning?