Setting: ATF AU
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
NOTE: Big thanks, no HUGE thanks to Julie, for her invaluable, generous and wonderful medical assistance.
He grimaced and pried his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth. It was too much of an effort to peel his eyes open. Try as he may, he couldn't rid himself of the Sahara desert that seemingly possessed his mouth. Then, something nudged his lips and a voice from faraway suggested 'drink'. The fire died and he sighed in relief.
"Slow down, you're gonna puke."
"Kid?" Chris croaked, squinting painfully into the light. A blurry face appeared with a shock of dark hair. "My Kid?"
"Now that's impressive, even for a Larabee!" J.D noted of impossible potentiality and the age difference.
"Turn that fuckin' light off!" the concussed man ordered, shielding his eyes. The room was cast in shadows, as the curtains were drawn. "Thanks... when did you get here?"
"Couple hours back, we can stay until Tuesday. Nate's here too. Him and Josiah are with that police captain. As soon as you're ready, they're coming over here for a meeting."
"Vin?"
"Nothing yet." He paused, seeing the unnatural light of defeat in the pale eyes. "I'm sorry, Chris."
"Yeah, I am too, Kid. Where's Buck?"
"We're not sure, him and..."
"Not sure!" Chris interrupted. "How long he's been gone? What time is it? Where's my Goddamn pants?"
"For several hours, it's five o'clock and I have no idea." He answered in succession, picking up the phone on the bedstand. He dialed Josiah and gave the green light. Chris staggered to the bathroom and back, taking his IV pole with him. He elected to sit in the tall backed chair, next to Ryan, who was asleep.
"They gave him a sedative, he was having a bad dream, he got violent."
"He's got a damn good reason." Larabee sighed, watching J.D.'s fingers moving again.
"Buck? We're having a meeting," the youth began.
"I thought you said he was missing!" Chris bellowed, reaching for the phone.
"J.D.? Are you here in town?"
"No, Buck, Chris flew back to Denver!" Dunne's replied sarcastically, turning to his boss, "I never said he was missing. I said we didn't know where he was. Where are you?"
"In the bayou, we got a lead."
"Buck, you got a bad cel, I can't hear... Buck?" He pulled the phone away during a burst of static. "Lost 'im. Him and Ezra are tracking down a lead in the bayou. You hungry? The nurse told me to let her know when you woke up. Something about clear liquids."
"Wonderful," Chris grumbled, thinking of lemon jello and bouillon.
"Ezra, this looks like the same damn road we we're on an hour ago," Buck complained, his patience running thin. The family that they initially interviewed said little. When they returned to the car, a filthy paper with an address written on it was under the windshield wiper. It cited urgency and information on the 'wearer of the medal of St. Michael.'
"I never mentioned Vin wearing that, only Novelli knew and that old woman." Wilmington got a chill. "Whaddya think?"
"I think it's slim and none and we take slim," Standish cited.
Now, they were trying to find the reclusive address. Every moss-draped tree looked alike. Suddenly, Buck felt a tingle rise up his spine.
"Turn here!"
"What?" Ezra sputtered, at the loud voice.
"Here!" Buck pointed to a dirt path in the middle of nowhere.
"Have you lost what little remains of your mind?"
"Don't fuck around Ezra, turn!"
"Very well," he obeyed, following the twisting road, dense with trees. "How far?"
"Uh..." Buck's heart was pounding and he was beginning to sweat. "S... s...stop!" He unclipped the belt, shot out of the car and moved through the thick greenness.
"Buck! Come back here!" Ezra ran to catch up, struggling to keep pace with the taller man's strides. He saw a shack appear in the middle of nowhere and a tiny, gnome-like woman out front.
"How are Hansel and Gretel?" he muttered, panting as he reached the perimeter.
"I have been expecting you," she nodded, "Let me see your hands."
"I assure you, Madame..." Ezra started, only to be cut off.
"No, not you," She turned to the taller man, "Your hands, I must see..."
"Buck..." Ezra frowned, then felt a chill as his partner's face went blank. He watched curiously, Buck didn't blink as the old woman studied both palms. Then she gripped his hands and he saw Buck jump slightly and inhale sharply.
"Yes, yes..." She nodded, "Come... You will remain here."
"Like hell I will," Standish retorted, walking up the stairs.
"Very well, but I warn you, do not interfere!"
The interior was small and filled with an acrid scent. Strange objects were on rough hewn tables, candles flickered and she chanted as they entered. She sat on a sturdy bench, pulling Buck down next to her. She turned his palms over, examining them closely, before rubbing them with oil. Then she gripped both tightly, causing the tall man to hiss.
"Buck?" Ezra moved forward, only to run into an invisible wall.
"Silence!" She warned, turning back. "I sought you out because you are tied to them both. Your link to the blond one is strong. His link to the saviour with blue eyes is very rare and deep. He lives, the one you seek with sky eyes and a strong spirit. Although his body suffers from many wounds, his soul thrives. His spirit guide is with him... in him... helping him. He'll remain protected, as long as the dark ones do not find him. The child," she read the thoughts of the mustached man, who was entraced. "she is fine. She will not be injured. He protects her with his life. Do not fear for her. She will remain unharmed. You must find him... before the others."
"What others?" Ezra asked.
"Boudin, he seeks a blood sacrifice and desires the spirit of the blue-eyed boy. "
"Who's Boudin?" Buck asked, his voice returning. He was dizzy and the air seemed shallow.
"Pierre Boudin, the nephew of my sister of the soul. She is on the other side now, my Jessenia, and she cannot rest. She worries for the boy. "
"Boudin?" the rogue shook his head, trying to dispell the lightheadedness, "Bates?"
"He has many names, but he is evil... and very dangerous."
"Why did he wait so long, if he had all this power?" Ezra asked.
"Her power was of the light," the old woman said of Jessenia. "She worked hard to keep that evil from him. Once she closed her eyes on this world, his full potential was returned."
"He wants to kill Vin?"Buck asked.
"Yes, She told me to seek you out. You must find him. He searches for that place where his soul was born. You will find him there. You must hurry..." She placed a leather cord around his neck, with a worn leather pouch on it. "You will give this to the blond one, if Boudin takes your friend, only the blond one can save him. Go... go..."
"But..." Ezra began, only to have a black ball thrown at him. It exploded into a cloud of sweet smelling dust. "What?" he mumbled, blinking and then gasping. His hands were on the steering wheel of the car. Traffic soared by them, racing into the setting sun. The digital clock read six p.m and they were just outside town on the shoulder of the highway. "What the hell?" he mumbled, turning to the other occupant. Had the leather necklace not been on Buck's chest, he'd have thought it was a dream. "Buck?"
"What?" the dark head jerked, blinking in panic. "Where the hell are we? Where'd she go?"
"I don't know and it's not an avenue I wish to pursue. Time is of the essence."
"Get me to the hospital!" Buck commanded.
It was getting dark and she was scared. She heard the door and ducked behind Vin. She curled up against his back and waited until the monster man left. The silver hand scared her, so did his eyes, they were funny. Finally, she pulled her head up, the room was empty. She crawled over his body and snatched the bag.
"Vin... we got food. Vin, I'm hungry. Vin? Want some? I'll give you my french fries... see..." she tried to prod a soggy fry into the slightly parted lips. He didn't move. He looked awful and he was breathing funny. He sure was hot. She sighed again and knelt up. One eye was swollen shut, all purple and black. She pried the other one open and scowled. "Are you in there, Vin? Wake up! We gotta eat! Vin?"
"Oui," Vin yawned, blinked and sat up, wincing as his left wrist hit he wall. He smelled meat and eyed the bag.
"The monster man came and left it... we gotta soda too, see?" She pulled out two cans, along with two burgers and two bags of fries.
"Monster man?" He frowned, "Did he touch you!"
"No," She shrank back, "Don't holler like that!"
"I am sorry, Petite," he cupped her chin. She was perfection. His heart was bursting just looking at her.
"Here, I took the pickles off," She moved to hand him a sandwich and her head hit his wrist. She creased her face, when he cried out in pain. "I'm sorry, Vin. I didn't mean..." the fears and frustrations and horror of the day built up and spilled over.
"No... no tears..." he hissed, forgetting his own pain. He pulled her into his lap with his good hand and kissed the salt streaks.
"I hurted you... I hurted you..."
"No, Petite," he chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "You could never hurt me, you hold my heart, no?"
"I'll hold it real good!" She promised with a wet hiccup. "I'll be real careful."
"Oui," He smiled proudly.
"You sit back, I'll take care of you." She vowed, seeing the lines of pain and sickness on his face. She bent down and kissed the injured wrist. "All better?"
"Oui," He hushed, his heart full. "I love you, angel."
"...love you too," she broke off tiny bits of sandwich and fed it to him. She held the soda up and tipped it so he could drink. Each french fry was carefully inserted. Finally, they were done.
"Merci, Madamoiselle Angel," he smiled, pulling her close. He sang to her softly, recalling Isabella's glorious face. Her breathing became slow and steady and the thumb sucking slowed down. His own eyes dropped down, fueled by fever, he slept.
"I'm getting tired of being your servant!" Fowler hissed into the phone. "Yeah, I know what time it is. Yeah, I'll get the brat and call the bitch. Don't talk to be me that way. You owe me! Trent? Trent? Fuck, he hung up!" He was still raging with anger as he entered the room. The little runt was sleeping, curling up against Tanner. He walked over and grabbed her by one arm, yanking hard. That was his first mistake.
"Angel!" Vin screamed, hearing her terrified cry. He moved in one motion. His kick brought the other man down and he slammed the man's head onto the floor hard. The motion caused a white wall of burning pain in his wrist and up his back. He collapsed, unable to breath for the fire inside.
"Vin... Vin..."
"No tears... little one," he heard the crack in the voice. "I am just resting my eyes... for... a... moment..." He finally sat up and eyed the captor. They had no time to spare. "Come, Petite, we will go and find your Mama, no?"
"But what about your leg?" She eyed the chain and wrinkled her nose at the strange words coming from his bloody lip. "Is that a curse?"
"Sorry," Vin sighed, then eyed the black metal object in the waistband of the captor's pants. "Angel, get his gun. Careful, only touch the back part. Good girl," He took the weapon. "Go to the bathroom and cover your ears." He waited until she was safe and then put the gun to the metal bracket and fired. Freed at last, he jumped up and put his arms out. They left hurredly. He eyed the terrian and smiled. "I know this place, Angel, we are not far from home. Come, there is a boat."
"A boat?" She shook her head and tugged his hand. "No, Vin, they got a car. Vin? Vin?" He wasn't listening and she followed him, confused but trusting. He'd never hurt her. She climbed in beside him and they went up the river.
She was dozing when the pulled over and he didn't want to rouse her. He eyed the black bag in the bottom of the boat and frowned, pulling it open. He saw a large tan jacket and pulled it on carefully. Then he gathered her up and left the boat. He trudged for some time, before his eyes grew blurry and his back pain became unbearable. He saw a bench by the side of the deserted road and sat down. He'd rest for only one minute.
"Vin?" Grace yawned, looking around. "Where are we? Vin?" She felt his face, it sure was hot. He sounded funny too, like he had a really bad cold. His face was all swollen and colored funny. He needed Aunt Brie to fix him. "I'll call Mama, she'll come and get us." She snaked a hand into his pocket and brought silver change out. She eyed the bus stop and saw a phone nearby.
He moved his hand and in his deep sleep, knew instictively something was wrong. There was nothing on his lap. His eyes jerked open. He was alone.
"No!" he cried out. "Angel!" He jumped up, spotting the tiny girl in a glass box.
"Aunt Brie?" She paused, wrinkling her nose as the machine came on. "Tell my Mommy to come get us. Vin is really sick. The monster man hurted him bad but I'm okay. Vin saved me, but he needs Aunt Brie to fix him up..." She turned as Vin entered the booth. She backed up, seeing how angry he was. He was screaming in French, took the strange object from her and dropped it.
"I'm sorry, I was getting my Mommy. Don't holler... Vin, please don't be mad. You're hurt and I wanted to help..."
"No, I am sorry, Little One," He relaxed, hugging her. "I woke up and you were gone. My heart, it stopped. I will not lose you again, Petite. The house, it is not far. We will go now."
"But... what about Mommy?" She eyed the phone.
"She knows where we are," Vin decided, so sure Isabella was waiting for them. "Come, Petite."
The meeting with the F.B.I and Novelli went as expected. They had a couple leads on Trent and had confidence that the combined forces would work. The ransom not left strict instructions on the exact breakdown of currancy. It also mentioned a phone call to Grace. So Novell, Nelson, the F.B.I. man and some other field agents left for the Saloon. They had a recording device set up there.
Finally, they were alone. J.D., Josiah and Nathan went to get dinner, they'd return later. Ryan said little during the meeting. Chris knew how deep the other man was hurting. He also knew better than to offer meaningless words. Until that child was in his arms and safe, he's be a lost soul.
"Damn shame Seamus didn't leave his cane." Chris offered, "Some Tullymore would go down good right about now." That brought a small smile. "He's a good man."
"Nothing finer breathing," Ryan said with deep conviction. "One day, I hope to lay his namesake in those strong hands of his. If Cait will still have me..."
"You asked her?" He said quietly, having seen the change.
"Yeah, if..." he stopped, raking a hand over his pained eyes, "no... when Grace comes back to us. A small wedding. I love her, Chris. How could I have been so blind?"
"Guilt does terrible things to a man's soul, Ryan, I know that now. I wasted three years after Sarah and Adam died. I gave up, pushed everyone away. I was so full of anger and unresolved issues. My days were spent drowning in a sea of bitterness. My nights were... well... long and endless."
"What happened?"
"Vin Tanner," he sighed, nearly hearing the cranky Texan cursing him. "and... Buck. Buck never gave up on me. They broke the mold when they made that man. It took that amazing endurance of his to make me realize how much I was throwing away. After Sarah and Adam were killed, I gave up. That was until Lily kicked my ass." He smiled, thinking on the fiesty matriarch. "Wait until you meet her. She's absolutely beautiful. What a woman. Thanks to her and Buck, I found my legs again. Buck and I put the team together. Six men, good men, we were a helluva team. Then one day, we got us a worldclass sharpshooter from Texas. Shot his mouth off as much as that rifle. Cranky, sorry-assed, prank-pulling Texan." His voice cracked. For several minutes, he couldn't speak. "Vin... I don't have the right words. From the day we met, something happened inside. He's a part of me, the best part. He taught me how to see the world in color again."
"That's a helluva compliment."
"He's a helluva man." Chris returned, as the door opened. "Goddammit Buck! Where the hell have you been?"
"Nice to see you too, Pard," Buck grinned, nodding to the other man, who was laughing. "Ryan, good to see you awake." He moved to the bed, gripping the rail. "She's fine, you'll get her back. They won't hurt her."
"How do you know that?" The Irishman questioned of the complete and utter conviction in the tall man's voice.
"I uh..." He shrugged, sat down and eyed Ezra, who remained silent, standing by Chris. "We... got a lead." With that, in a slow, steady voice, he revealed their strange encounter. He'd just finished, when Doctor Gabrielle Marquette broke into the room, hysterical.
"She called me... I think they escaped but I can't be sure because I heard Vin but it's not his voice, it's French but Grace was fine..."
"Slow down," Buck jumped up, grabbing the slim woman's shoulders. "What are you talking about?"
"This!" She put down a small box and swayed a bit.
"Hey, easy, Darlin'," the rogue steadied her.
"I'm fine, I checked my messages at home, this was on my machine. I keep a small recorder with me when I do rounds, to take notes on patients. Anyway, listen!" She eyed Ryan's face and saw the physical tension leave him. His head dropped and she gripped the back of his neck.
"You get that over to Novelli, he's at the Saloon. Don't tie the phoneline up, in case Trent is trying to call." Buck said, handing her the tape.
"Okay," She bent to kiss Ryan's cheek and tugged his hand in reassurance, before leaving.
"Ezra!" Chris nodded, "Go with her. That bastard could be anywhere. Check in, okay?"
"Roger," the gambler nodded and departed.
"I know you heard him spoutin' French before," Wilmington moved to Chris's side, helping him sit up. "But if I hadn't heard it, I wouldn't have believed it. Any ideas?"
"You said she'd be safe... " Ryan sat up, eyeing the somber agent. "That old woman was right." He thought for a moment, recalling her words, as given by the eyewitness. "...he searches for that place where his soul was born..." He stopped, thinking of what Chris said earlier about the changes in both men, when Vin joined the ATF team. "Denver."
"No," Chris said suddenly, easing the IV out. "Buck, Nathan left clothes in that closet for me, get them. I know where he's headed, and it's not far."
"Why wouldn't Vin have called here or driven back?" Ryan wondered.
"It's not Vin," Larabee hissed in pain, allowing Buck to assist him in dressing. "Remember, she said his 'spirit guide was with him'?"
"You mean, Philippe?" Ryan hedged, "Isabella's husband?"
"Vin's a direct descendant, Philippe's protecting his own," the blond tossed back, shoving his feet into a pair of boots. "That's where he's going. At the end of the tape, he said they're 'going to Mama'. I read Lily's journal, the one her sister Sara kept. I know where that cottage is."
"Where they went to live after they married? Up near Baton Rouge?" Ryan recalled of the history Caitlin had compiled. "Shouldn't we call the police?"
"No!" Chris said, then winced as the loud tone hit his tender skull. "I don't want some green cop shooting Vin on sight. He won't understand what's wrong with Vin. You know damn right well, Vin won't give Grace up, not to anyone."
"Okay, Chris, I hear you, but what if Trent finds him? We need to let Novelli know..." Buck tried to argue.
"What are you doing?" Larabee shot his eyes over Buck's arm, watching Ryan climb from the bed.
"I'm going to get her, I lost her."
"You can't be serious? Two of you?" Buck put his hand up. "You'll bleed all over the..."
"Where's my Goddamn pants?" Ryan shot back in a tone so like Larabee's, both of the other man chuckled. "I'll follow you," the Irishman threatened, lifting an eyebrow defiantly.
"You would, too and bleed all over the place. Then Caitlin would have my balls in a sling. Dammit to hell." Buck muttered, walking to the closet. "We need to tell, Novelli, Chris."
"Okay, but not until we get there. Trent doesn't know yet, we got some time. Novelli can use a helicopter and get there in no time. I want to find Vin first. He'll listen to me." He moved stiffly to the door, poking his head out, "Buck, distract the nurses."
"Gimme a hard job!" the rogue finished with Ryan McKenna, getting his jacket on. "Where you two walking wounded gonna be?"
"You got the rental?" Larabee asked.
"Yeah, it's parked outside."
"There's a service elevator that they bring the meal cars up on," Chris whispered, "It just around the corner. I need five minutes. We'll be outback somewhere, on the east side, that's where it comes out."
"Okay, Boss," he slid from the room.
Fifteen minutes later, they were on the highway, heading north. Buck had Chris's gun in his trunk and the blond now had it strapped to his hip. He tugged the leather cord from his neck and handed it to the man next to him. "She said, if Bates gets Vin, you'd be the only one who could save him, with this."
"Hang on Cowboy," Chris whispered into the dark night, eyeing the stars and sending a prayer up to the heavens.
A tiny sliver of silver moonlight came through the crack in the wood covering the window. The eerie glow diminished the century old shack somewhat. The cabin was small and dirty, full of spiders and other crawling insects. A sense of profound sorrow hung heavy in the night air. Only one of the two occupants was aware of the eerie cloud.
She felt something crawl across her hand and jerked it back. Her chest hurt from sobbing and she curled into an even tighter ball. She gasped and shuddered as the last of her tears died, while wiping her nose on the sleeve of her fuzzy pajamas. Her large eyes roamed around the room. She shivered again, and felt his arm tightened around her. He was sleeping too hard and he was awfully hot. She placed her tiny hands on his face and tried to open his eyes again. No luck, they wouldn't stay put.
"Mommy?"
It wasn't a question as much as it was a prayer. She believed Vin when he said her mother knew where they were. She didn't argue when they walked through the dense woods to this place. She didn't understand why he was happy to be here. His eyes got all funny and his voice cracked, when they entered. He was looking for someone named 'Isabella'. He didn't hear her asking who that was, he staggered and almost fell. He was barely able to walk and she couldn't keep him going. He said he was only going to 'rest my eyes for a moment'. But that was a long time ago. Now she was cold and hungry and scared.
"Mommy!" She sobbed, pressing her face into the hot folds on skin where his neck met his shoulder. "I want my Mommy... please God... help my Mommy find us..."
She was ending a series of wet hiccups, when she heard the door open. Her breath caught in her throat, when the the tall figure entered the room. His skin was dark and his eyes seemed to glow. Her gaze caught the metal shimmering on the end of his cane. Her basic instincts, primal and deep down, told her to fear this man. She snaked a hand out, shaking Vin's arm, trying to wake him.
"Vin... Vin... wake up..." She whimpered, her heart pounding as the tall man in a black cape and funny black hat moved forward. "Who... are... you...?"
"I am Voodun," Boudin exclaimed, "You will not fear me, Child. Come... come... come to me." He lured, in a voice deep and hypnotic. He gently blew a handful of herbal powder towards the small protector. With her in the way, he couldn't get to Vin Tanner. Her love for him, being pure and of the light, was a powerful shield. He saw her need and played on that. "Your mother is waiting for you. Take my hand... I will lead the way. Sweet Child, take my hand..." His evil grin spread, as the entraced little girl rose and took small steps. "Come... come... into the night..." he lured her backwards, towards the doorway, beyond which was the dark, churning river.
"You fool!" Geoff Trent backhanded Cletus Fowler hard enough to send the hired man flying hard into the wall of the delapadated hotel room. "What have you done? Where is that child?"
"Tanner took her!" Fowler spat a wad of blood from his split lip. "You do that again and I'll crush your neck like a twig."
"Shut up, you imbecile. I've squashed slugs with more brains. I thought he was chained?" He jerked the broken links. "How could this happen? How long ago? It couldn't have been long, I haven't heard anything on the radio about the child being found."
"I don't know, a couple hours maybe?" Fowler hissed, "He's insane, you went too far."
"Insane?" the dirty cop paused, eyeing the car outside. "He's on foot? Why didn't he steal your car?"
"He's off his rocker, flipped his lid!" the metal-handed monster replied, patting his pocket "He didn't even touch my phone. He charged me, speaking French like he was born to it."
"French!" Trent wheeled around, his hopes picking up. "Are you sure?"
"Why would I make that up? Of course I'm sure. He spouted it like water... why?"
"I know where he went... the fool..." He thought of the errant ghost. "That's why I haven't heard anything on the radio. That stupid boy is being led around... and a hundred years in the past. Hah! Perhaps Lady Luck will smile on us yet." He moved towards the car, "You better pray I find that kid, or you get no money." He turned the ignition on and took the small dirt road that led to he highway. The old Dubonnet cabin wasn't far.
"You can have that brat, she's more trouble that she's worth." Fowler flexed his silver hand, nearly salivating, "Tanner's mine."
Caitlin felt her knees give way, hearing her baby's voice on the tape. "Grace..."
"Easy, now, " Ezra grabbed her, sitting her down. "She's safe. From what we can surmise, Vin has made his escape with her."
"Why hasn't he called?" Josiah frowned, denying more coffee from Nathan. Ezra called them, knowing there were up the street from The Saloon, having dinner.
"Yeah, that's not like Vin. He'd have called 911 right off. Something's wrong." J.D. surmised, tapping the table with his pen.
"You sure that's your friend Tanner? I thought he was from Texas?" Novelli inquired, "That guy sounded like a local," he noted of the heavy French accent.
"I think you may have found a piece of the riddle," Ezra leaned forward, taking Caitlin's hand. "My Dear, I know how hard this is for you. But you may be our only hope. Do you know where Isabella and Philippe lived?"
"Yes, why?" She blinked, "No, you can't be serious... that's not possible."
"This is New Orleans, Mrs. McKenna and I assure you, anything is possible." The Southerner oozed.
"Cait," Josiah leaned in, "My father was a missionary. We traveled all over the world. I spent time in Haiti and in parts of Africa. I've seen things... spiritual things that defied any kind of science or logic. Chris Larabee told us what happened to Vin in the maze at the Sauville house. So it's entirely possible that Philippe was responsible for getting Vin and Grace free."
"You're all nuts!" Novelli turned away, as his cell phone went off. "What! All of them? What the hell am I paying you for? How long ago?" He cupped the phone and eyed the people in the room. "McKenna and Larabee are gone... Wilmington too."
"Call him!" Nathan said, elbowing Dunne.
"Chris?" the youth's voice rose, when his boss answered Wilmington's cell phone. "Where are you? You're in deep shit! What lead?" He frowned, his eyes flashing. "If I pulled a stunt like this, you'd suspend me. What do you mean that's different?"
"Gimme that phone!" Novelli growled, grabbing it. "Larabee, what the hell kind of game are you playing?"
"It's not a game," Chris replied, eyeing the map on his lap and closing his eyes. That was twofold, first for the fierce headache that was rising with every passing minute. Second, he was trying to see the map drawn by Sara Gavin so many years ago in Lily's journal. "He's taking Grace to the old cabin. It's not really Vin, it's Philippe... that's why he's speaking French. It's happened before."
Novelli frowned and eyed Standish, "That's what Hollywood said...."
"Who?" Larabee frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Christ, his head hurt like a bitch.
"Ezra," Josiah said, taking the phone. "It kinda suits him, right down to that phony smile."
"Bite me," Ezra mouthed over Caitlin's head, so she didn't see him.
"Where are you, Boss?" Sanchez pressed, nodding. "Yeah," he snapped his fingers at Nathan and pointed to a map. "We'll coordinate from here and meet you. Stay in touch."
"They're close." Caitlin said, following Jackson's finger. "They'll have to pull over soon and go on foot. There are no access roads up there and it's dense and thick, slow going"
"Chopper?" Novelli mused aloud.
"Not yet," Standish frowned. "We don't know if Vin permantly disabled his guards on not. That call was made awhile ago and we've not heard from them since. If Trent or that monster find Vin first, the last thing you want to do is advertise like that," he noted of the approach of a police helicopter. "I'd suggest we journey up the river, since it borders the property. We can radio your comrades in arms in Baton Rouge, if we need additional help. From what Chris described, I am sure Mister Tanner will need to be flown to a hospital."
"Yeah, okay, Hollywood, that sounds good," Novelli agreed, turning to Nelson, the F.B.I. agent. "You call your office in Baton Rouge and update them. You make them understand that we're running the show."
"Let's go!" Caitlin tugged her jacket on, only to face a six foot plus wall of resistance.
"Over me dead body!" Seamus boomed, "Yer not carryin' a badge. It's too dangerous."
"Grace is out there," She zipped the leather coat, her eyes flashing three shades of violet. "...and the monster that murdered Max had his hands on her. You can't stop me... nobody can. I'm bringing my child home and God help that bastard if he gets in my way!"
"Ye sound like the Lad!" Seamus choked of Ryan, then eyed the men behind his stubborn daughter-in-law.
"He's right, Mrs. McKenna," J.D. said, "You shouldn't..."
"The map I've got up here," she tapped her glossy curls, "is better than anything you got." She challenged all of them, raising a eyebrow. "Let's go!"
"Ye bring me jewels back," Seamus ordered, eyeing all of the men leaving. "and the Lad. Ye bring them back or ye'll answer to me, and that's a promise. Ye have me word on that!"
"We'll get them, Seamus," Josiah gripped the worried Old Man's shoulders. "I'll bet you say a wicked rosary."
"I've counted the beads a time or too in me day..." the blue eyes were worried. He nodded, listening as the footsteps died out. He sat in the chair by the window, suddenly feeling very old as he took out his time worn rosary. He kissed the cross, blessed himself and began to pray.
Something was wrong. Under the layers of mud that filled his fevered brain, an alarm went off. Something was wrong. There was a empty spot... .an empty spot... his arms moved, trying to find... find... needing to feel her.
"Angel?" he whispered, forcing his working eye to open. He felt the evil permeate the air, nearly choking him. His heart slammed into his chestwall, when he saw the dark one ready to snatch his beloved angel. He tiny hand was reaching up, the doe-like eyes in the moonlit bath were full of trust. "Noooooo!"
The earsplitting scream broke the spell and Grace jumped, startled and frightened.
"Come Child, Come to Papa..." Boudin's voice was deep and hypnotic. He saw her blink and move, as the other roused. He snatched her arm, gripping it until she screamed in pain. "Leave the boy's body, Dubonnet, or I'll kill her." He used his free hand to move the gun to her neck.
"You are a corpse who still walks," he spat back, fists clenching and his heart on fire, "I will tear that rabid tongue from your mouth, you vile beast. Unhand her... or die." The deep laughter that filled the room bounced off every wall of his aching head. His fury rose and then his fearless angel bit the bastard's hand hard. It was a small distraction and he leapt, kicking the man's groin hard. He slammed the head onto the floor, trying to find the gun. "Go Petite... find the glass box..." he recalled her talking to someone, "...call... your Mama... go Petite..." He gasped, on his knees, pain scoring his lean body. With his last ounce of strength, he shoved her towards the open door. "Follow the path... remember the stars... they will guide you... GO!" his fevered eyes drank in every feature of the tiny face. "Remember I love you, Angel..Now and Forever... Go..." His fevered eyes bugged out when the shot rang out. Pain exploded in his chest and he fell forward. Through a dizzy storm of fire and color, he fought back.
"Vin!" Grace screamed from the doorway, watching his face lock in pain.
"Run Sugar!" Vin cried out in fear, not knowing why. His hot eyes took in the strange place. He didn't know where he was or how they got there. He only knew Grace was in danger. He saw Bates towering over him and his blood turned cold. From beyond the tall man's form, he saw the tiny girl hesitate, her face at the window. The moonbath stroked the tiny features, glittering with tears. "Ya do as I tell ya... Git movin'... Go find yer Ma..." He ordered, and relaxed as the moppet turned away and ran.
"Enough!" Boudin grabbed the injured man's throat, applying just enough pressure to put him to sleep. He leaned over the body, cupping the strong jaw. His smile increased, as his hand moved, over the area where the valiant heart was beating. "Excellent!" He glowed, his eyes lighting up. "Your mojo is powerful... I will have it... at the hour of midnight under the moon... while you watch. I will take rip it from your chest..." He laughed again, feeling the power course through him. He had much to do before the ceremony. The stone wall in the deserted garden would be a fine altar. He lifted the unconscious lamb and took him outside. He removed the jacket and shirt, before laying him on the stone. He opened the black bag, taking out the candles first, then the rest of his tools. He annointed the lamb and lit the candles, which were by either side of his head. He'd prepared the knife before he left, it sat waiting in a velvet pouch. He rested the book on the lamb's chest, then began to chant.
"What now?" Buck asked, easing his tall frame from the car. There was one flashlight in the trunk and the batteries weren't great. He shook his head in disbelief, as Chris and Ryan staggered towards him. "I can't believe I did this. You two can't even stand."
"That way..." Chris pointed, then heard Ryan gasp. "What?"
"Somebody else is here..." the injured Irishman held his aching side and nodded to a car in the shadows.
"Shit!" Buck hissed, pulling his weapon. "You two stay put. I'll check it out." He crept through the woods, sliding up to the dormant vehicle. It was empty. He rested his hand on the hood, it was still warm. He opened the door and flipped the glove compartment. "Great... as if I didnt have enough problems..." He flashed the light again, frowning at the dual sets of prints.
"What?" Chris said when his oldest friend returned looking grim.
"It's Trent's car, his registration is in there. He's not alone. The engine's still warm, they're not far."
"That fuckin' metal-handed freak is with him," the blond hissed, his lip snarled, "and I'm gonna rip it off his wrist and beat him to death with it..." he promised, limping toward the path.
"Are you sure you know where this place is?" Fowler complained, marching through the thick woods.
"If you don't stop bitching at me, Fowler, I'll shoot you for being so Goddammed stupid." Trent warned, then put his hand up. "Shhhh! I hear something..." He strained his ears and heard male voices. He jumped onto a fallen cluster of trees and peered into the inkyness. Three figures were roaming through the woods in the near distance. He rejoined his hired hand, and updated him.
"There's three of them, you take the flank... and take out the back two, they're falling behind. One of them looks hurt. Go... and Fowler, don't fuck this up!"
"You need to sit down before you keel over," Buck warned the staggering blond, grabbing Ryan as he swayed. The determined team leader disappeared into the darkness several yards ahead. "Chris, I'm talking to you." He bit his lip as the Irishman went to his knees. "Hold on, Ryan," He eyed the area and spotted a fallen tree. "Shit..." he nearly dropped his gun, as the other man went limp. "Dammit... " He eased him down and eyed the unfamiliar terrian. "Great... what the hell else can go wrong?"
"Night... night pig meat."
Buck only had time to turn his head slightly, when something hard hit the back of it, sending him into darkness. Fowler stepped over the first body, squatting to slap the face of the second one. He was out cold, unarmed no threat. He took the agent's gunand found handcuffs on the stilled man's belt. Larabee was somewhere near and he couldn't risk a shot. He rolled him on his belly and cuffed the hands. He eyed the trail ahead and grinned. realizing it led right to Trent. "Two down and one piggie to go..." he laughed, jogging to sneak up on the unsuspecting prey.
It was scary in the woods. The sounds of the night terrified the lost little girl. She didn't cry. Vin would be upset. He was counting on her to get help. She kept looking at the sky, trying to remember what he told her about the brightest star. But it was hard and she was tired and cold. She stumbled and fell, sliding down a hill and rolling over, scratching her face. Her lip quivered and her eyes grew full, but she didn't cry. She stood up, dusted herself off and climbed back up the hill.
She blinked her eyes, she couldn't believe it. Her heart began to pound and her small body shook from head to toe. Was it real? She clenched her wet eyes shut and opened them again. It was real! He was here! He was right here! She opened her mouth to call out to him, but couldn't remember his name. What did Vin call him? Before she could think anymore, another figure appeared, just behind the blond man. She saw the gun and screamed.
"Mister Grizzly! Mister Grizzly look out behind you, he has a gun!"
Chris dropped and spun in one motion, rolling sideways as a bullet hit the tree where his head would have been. Grace? What the hell was she doing here? Vin? Was Vin with her? He grunted as another shot rang out. "Grace get down!" He hollered, letting his eyes adjust to the near darkness.
The silver moon cast shadows on the dense thickness, then he spotted a silver hand. "You bastard..." he growled low and lethal, as visions of Sarah and Adam's charred bodies rose up. He crept slowly and silently, stalking the beast for the kill. He managed to climb over a rock and launched his body, taking down the killer. The gun was pressed between both their hands. Twin grunts of pain and frustration merged in the night air, as the two bodies wrestled for the weapon. Chris drove his knee hard into Fowler's side. Then he moved his free hand to poke at the murder's eyes. He chopped the wrist hard, sending the gun skittering off into the darkness.
They rolled again and Cletus found himself on Larabee's back. His meaty thighs pinned the victim's arms to his sides. He yanked the short blond hair up hard, exposing the pale, vunerable neck. He moved his metal fingers of the naked flesh, before snaking into the familiar choke hold. He could break the man's neck, but what fun would that be? No, he do it slowly, crush his larynx and listen for the gurgling sound. He increased the pressure, lowering his lips so his prey could here.
"She died slow... the boy too..." he purred, feeling the still recovering man lose the little strength he had. "They were screaming as those flames melted their flesh. She was pretty. If I'd had more time, I could have had some fun with her... your Sarah..." he laughed, feeling the slobber run over his wrist. Larabee was foaming at the mouth.
Chris fought hard with all he had, but his injured body wasn't ready for this. His arm was bleeding again, the stitches were ripped apart. His concussed skull was screaming like twin jackhammers chopping up concrete. The metal hand was cutting off all his air... slowly... and purposefully. He tried to suck air, sending saliva pouring from his numb mouth. Then he heard the cruel words and his whole body rebelled. The harder he fought, the dizzier he got. He thought of his lost friend. Was he lying near, too hurt to move? Was he counting on that promise being kept? He felt himself fading away, and the cruel, sinister laughter was far above.
"I'm sorry Vin..."
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