Twilight's Last Gleaming - Page 4

Twilight's Last Gleaming
by Deirdre

Setting: ATF Universe
Page 4

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The session was short and went smoothly. Tony was bored with the slow pace at which Delaney was operating. He kept his cool because if the plan worked, Wilmington would suffer. In the meantime, the money was good and he'd put up with the mad scientist routine. He drew his attention back to Tanner, who was being quizzed about his knowledge of Frank Delassi's death.

"Who killed Frank Delassi?"

"Don't know..."

"What do the police think?"

"...two junkies done it..."

"So the case is closed?"

"No... maybe..."

"But you aren't satisfied?"

"No."

"Why?" Delaney pressed, but Tanner remained silent, his forehead creased in concentration. "What were you doing in the File Room?"

"Closin' out old cases."

"What happened on the elevator this afternoon?"

"Seen him."

"Who?"

"Tony Kennedy."

Delaney saw the victim's fists curl up and his teeth bare in defiance. He was angry and Kennedy looked uncomfortable. "Why are you angry?"

"They's up to somethin'... gonna hurt Bucklin..."

"They?"

"Yeah... him and... and... the other one... works fer the FDA..."

Delaney sat back and glared at Kennedy, who snorted and raised an eyebrow. Tanner knew both of them.

"How did you know about the FDA?" Delaney asked of her employer, The Federal Drug Administraion.

"...seen the ID badge... green and white..."

"How did you recognize Kennedy?"

"...eyes... scar... tatoo... seen 'em before... couldn't put 'em... bothered me..."

"But you did find out."

"Yeah... I seen his face... in a picture... paper... bein' arrested..."

"By Buck Wilmington and Frank Delassi?"

"Yeah... got the file out... knew it was him... saw the other one too... in a clippin' from the funeral..."

"You're sure you can make an identification?"

"Yeah... Newlander's kid... FDA... seen the two of 'em talkin' in the garage... need t'warn Bucklin..."

"Did you speak to anyone of your suspicions?"

"Nobody there... Gotta find Chris... Buck... tell 'em..."

"So you didn't speak to anyone about what you uncovered?"

"No... gone all afternoon... at a meetin'..."

"But you're going to tell them?"

"Yeah... they killed Frank... gotta tell Buck..."

"Buck won't believe you... he's mad at you."

"No, he ain't..."

Delaney smiled at the tinge of hurt in Tanner's voice. Using the right words, a seed of doubt would be planted deep inside his subconscious. Just the right thing to aid them in the next phase of the plan. "I'm sure you are aware that your decision and testimony led to his suspension."

"He ain't mad at that... yer crazy..."

"Am I? He's spoken about it to J.D. and to the others. How you could have told prevented his embarassing testimony before his superiors. How you let him down. Now the rest of them are wondering about you too."

"That don't make any sense..."

Of course it didn't, Delaney agreed, but that wasn't important. Only that deep inside, he would wonder about it, without knowing why. Time to move on, Tanner hadn't told anyone of their whereabouts yet, so it was time to erase his recent memory. The amber liquid had been diluted, so Tanner wouldn't become an unfortunate statistic like some of the other guinea pigs. As the needle entered his skin, the vein rolled. "Dammit..."

"What?" Kennedy moved forward, eyeing the point of the syringe being navigated under the squirming man's skin.

"His vein moved... there..."

Finally it was done. He hissed and shuddered, gasping a few times, before slumping back, sleeping deeply.

"I don't get it," Kennedy frowned. "If that stuff takes his memory away, what was all that business about Wilmington blaming him. He ain't gonna remember it..."

"He won't remember the words or the specific sentences. But the doubt was planted. That's what he'll remember and it will cause him a degree of uncertainty. Something that will be built upon after Phase two a couple days from now when Dunne disappears."

"They'll blame him?"

"They'll be hard pressed not to..." Delaney smiled and patted the denim-clad knee on the gurney. The clock read three-thirty and the drug would keep him under a heavy blanket for a few hours.

"Let's move him outside... near the HazMat dumpster."

"What about the shirt?" Kennedy picked up the denim garment.

"Uh..." Delaney paused, eyeing the chart on the wall. "The rest of them are out for the afternoon. Put the shirt on the back of his chair upstairs at his desk."

Kennedy easily lifted Tanner and moved him through the doors and up a short flight of stairs. The restricted area in question was a sunny courtyard, surrounded by high fences. Several heavy steel dumpsters were locked and waiting for the contents to be picked up. It was only accessible by certain key personnel and the Hazardous Material disposal team. The next pickup wasn't until six a.m., and Kennedy had disengaged the roaming camera temporarily. So the area would be free and clear. He laid Tanner on the ground, eyeing the sun overhead. He moved back inside to the airconditioned bay area and fingered the toolkit where the denim shirt was buried. Once he planted the shirt, he had to finish with the packages for the upcoming activities. He was just finishing, when at six p.m, Delaney reappeared, dressed in a new suit.

"Let's move... it's time..." the scientist eased through the door and bent over the victim. "Mr. Tanner?" The soft taps to the face were answered by a furrowed brow and labored breathing. "He's coming back... we have about ten minutes. Get him in the van."

The ride was a short one and Kennedy backed the van up to a group of tall bushes behind the train station. It obscured the view from all angles and he easily deposited Tanner on the soft earth. He eyed the bulge in Tanner's pocket, but Delaney said not to touch the wallet. He slapped Tanner's face a few times, until the body jerked and a low moan slipped out. He saw the eyes twitch and moved out of sight, back to the van and drove off.

Sick. Pain. Dizzy. Hot. Words ran together in Vin's troubled mind. He forced the images to part and slid his eyes open. He blinked up at the sky and couldn't see the sun. He panted in confusion, wondering where he was and why he felt so very sick. His head was pounding and any movement, even blinking his eyes, caused a terrific wave of nausea. He continued to breath for several minutes, until a wave of severe abdominal pain forced him to move.

"Oh God... " he curled up into a fetal position as the hot pain sliced through his head and guts.

"Is somebody there?"

Vin was fighting the pain and it took all his concentration. A voice? Was somebody near? All he could see through his clenched eyes, were several rows of tall bushes. He heard the voice again and saw gray pants.

"Are you okay?"

"I... can't... I... don't... sick..." Vin hissed, curling up tighter.

"There's a trash can a few feet from here. I can help you up..."

Vin felt a pair of arms on his back and forced his legs to uncurl. He got to his knees and grabbled wildly, before an arm snagged his tightly. He managed to get to his feet and stagger forward, lurching like a drunk on a three-day binge. His legs threatened to give out, but he held onto the wire rim of the trash container and threw up. The effort was too much and after surviving the dry heaves, he sank to his knees, gasping as the area around him flew by in a whirl of color and texture.

"Are you going to pass out?"

"Huh?" Vin coughed, dispelling lingering remants from his mouth. He sat down on the ground and blinked, shaking his head.

"Are you in pain?"

"Yeah... head hurts... and... shit..." Vin hissed curling up again.

"Stomach cramps?"

"...worse... these ain't cramps..."

"I have a bottle of water in my briefcase."

Vin kept his eyes closed and took several deep breaths. The dizziness began to subside and he felt the bottle tap his shoulder. He twisted off the cap and took a few sips, rinsing and spitting several times before taking a few small sips. The world righted itself and the pains began to subside. His head still hurt, but he could handle that. He eyed his rescuer and the expensive suit of clothes with suspicion.

"Where'd ya come from? Where are we?" Vin asked, staring up at the stranger.

"Let's get you out of the sun," Cameron Delaney helped the dazed man stand and guided him through the tall overgrowth of bushes and under the canopy of the waiting area. She saw him flinch and eye the train tracks and empty station. "I got here early, the train isn't due for thirty minutes. I heard a cry of pain and went to investigate."

"Thanks." Vin nodded, grateful for the cool station, which shut out the offending sun. He sipped his water and his mind began to wander. What the hell was he doing here? Was he on duty? Was he supposed to be tailing a suspect? Jesus, he felt shitty.

"Perhaps I should call 911... you look awful..." Delaney asked, trying not to smile in relief that Tanner looked at him as a stranger.

"No... that ain't necessary." Vin whispered, his mind flying at a record pace.

"Is the pain better?" The scientist pressed, knowing the small recorder in the pocket of the suit was recording everything.

"Yeah... m'head hurts though... feelin' a bit dizzy..."

"What happened?"

"Dunno." Vin shrugged, "Last thing I recall is... is... havin' coffee with Chris."

"Is Chris your wife?" Delaney inquired, backtracking in time and adding up the lost hours. When did Tanner have coffee with Larabee?

"Hell no," Vin hissed, "He's m'boss... it was early this mornin'... before seven."

Nearly twelve hours! Excellent... Delaney silently applauded. The diluted serum worked beautifully. Vin Tanner had just made the whole plan smooth sailing. If he didn't have a relapse, the other symptoms should disappear by tomorrow evening, allowing him to rest easy. Tanner need a good night's sleep, he'd be busy the day after, Delaney smiled as the plan unfurled in advance.

"Are you sure I can't take you to a hospital?" The mad doctor pressed, knowing the long-haired agent's dislike of large medical facilities.

"Nah... I'm startin' t'feel better. Reckon I just passed out and laid in the sun t'long." Vin replied, looking at the well dressed stranger hard. "Listen, thanks again. If ya hadn't come along..."

"Oh, don't think about it, I was glad to help. What were you doing out here? Were you picking someone up?"

"Dunno," Vin whispered, fear setting in and taking hold. How could it be this late? He concentrated hard and still came up empty. The last clear thought he had was leaving the cantina with Chris. What did the stranger say? Waiting for the seven p.m... .a little early. Twelve hours? He lost twelve hours of his life. His hand ran through his tangled hair and his eyes began to dart frantically.

"My train is pulling in, I hate to leave you, but... I have a pressing meeting. Please, let me call someone for you. You shouldn't be alone in this condition." Delaney sympathized.

"Yeah, thanks," Vin replied shakily, taking the cell phone. He eyed the terrain and did come mental calculations. Then he punched in a number.

"Hello."

"Ezra? Ya busy?"

"Vin?" Ezra moved from the patio of his condo, where he was enjoying wine with baked brie and raspberry sauce. He turned down the stereo, which was sending the soft refrains of classical music throughout the room. He eyed the clock approaching seven p.m. and cocked his head at the strange breathing pattern in his ear. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm about a mile away... at the train station... east side... under the overhang."

Ezra filled in the missing pieces as best he could. Something was very wrong, clearly evident in Vin's horrid breathing and the trace of fear in this voice. The sudden end to the sentence told him just how frightened Vin was. "I'll be right over."

"Thanks Ezra..." Vin handed the phone back and thanked his rescuer, who ran to catch the train. He sat lost in thought, trying to put the pieces together. Another wave of pain across his abdomen sent him in half. What the hell happened?

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Buck left the gym after a good workout and headed for his car. He was headed to The Saloon to meet Josiah, Vin, J.D. and Nathan. It was almost seven when he completed the short walk from the fitness facility to his car. He stopped whistling and cocked his head when he spotted Vin's bike. Curious, he moved closer and eyed his watch. He couldn't be still in the File Room or could he? Buck jogged to the elevator and punched the up button. The File Room was dark and Buck slid his I.D. badge through the meter, releasing the door. He flipped the lights on and walked through the large room.

"Vin? You still here?" he called out and ducked his head into the review area. Vin wasn't there. He retreated and went upstairs, thinking maybe the Texan was there. Maybe if he ran late, he was catching up on his work or reading his email. The office was as empty as the reading room.

"Vin!" Buck called out, walking towards the sharpshooter's desk. He frowned at the favorite worn denim shirt, strangly out of place without it's owner. He pulled Vin's drawer open and spotted Vin's keys. "What the hell?"

Now he was starting to worry. Vin mentioned he was hoping to be done by four and had erranrs to run. Something was wrong. He thought for several minutes and popped his head into Chris's office, looking for note from the missing man. He had his hand on the phone to dial Larabee, when he saw his own desk through the glass. Maybe Vin's bike was acting up and he came back here to call for a pickup. But why didn't he take his keys. Buck punched the numbers in and his voicemail alerted. Vin's voice came on and got Buck's attention fast.

"Shit!" he hissed at the urgency in Vin's voice and the sudden slice of his message being cut off. He pushed the number four and the audio responded that the message was left at two-thirty. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach and dialed Chris quickly.

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Ezra lost no time in going to the aid of his friend. He moved quickly from his car and eyed the now crowded station. He took the stairs two at a time, until he was at the top. He saw the disdain on the faces of some of the onlookers and heard one man hurling vulgar insults at a spot just beyond his vision.

"VIN!" Ezra hollered, spotting the Texan huddled on the grass just off the platform. He was kneeling, hunched over and his shirt front was covered in vomit. He looked awful; his eyes were clouded in pain and he was swaying, barely able to remain upright.

"You know this derelict?" a silver-haired senior citizen asked, poking at Vin with his cane. "Get him out of here. We don't need his kind here."

"His kind is far preferable to yours, Sir," Ezra frosted, leveling a cold, hard stare, "Kindly remove that cane or I will." He waited until the grumbling old gent left and knelt by Vin's side.

"Easy, my friend, the calvary has arrived." Ezra soothed, laying a hand on Vin's face. Despite the sunburn, he was clammy and drenched in a cold sweat.

"Get me outta here..." Vin hissed, large eyes gazing at the people staring at him.

"Perhaps we should go to the hospital?" Ezra said, his hard stares parting the onlookers like the red sea. He had Vin's arm draped over his shoulder and was nearly supporting all his weight.

"No... just need t'rest a bit... please, Ez?"

If the raspy voice hadn't done it, the baleful eyes did. Ezra got Vin situated in the car and headed home. Vin didn't say a word during the trip and the southerner didn't press him. One look told him it was all Vin could do to stay awake. He led him inside and sat him on the bed in the guestroom.

"Vin, are you injured?"

"No... don't think so..." Vin sighed, raising an arm so Ezra could peel the soiled shirt off of him. "Don't recall bein' this sick..."

"What happened?" Ezra asked quietly, noting the sunburn on Vin's cheeks and nose, along with the part of his arms from the short-sleeve downward.

"I don't know..." Vin shivered, as the airconditioning wrapping around him. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, remaining that way until a small tap on his bare shoulder.

"Here, you're dehydrated..." Ezra offered a glass of ginger ale, which Vin sipped while thinking. "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Uh... coffee with Chris this morning." Vin said, lifting his worried face to his friend. He swallowed hard and handed Ezra the glass. "I lost twelve hours, Ezra..."

"You're ill and were lying in the sun for quite some time," Ezra tried to reassure, taking the empty glass from the trembling hand. "Would you be more comfortable with a hot shower and change of clothes?"

"Yeah..." Vin nodded, "I'm sorry 'bout this, Ez... bustin' up yer night..."

"Hah!" Ezra snorted, pulling a pair of light cotton sleep pants and a tee shirt from his dresser. "What's an evening out with Cameron Diaz compared to rescueing a vomit-riddled friend?"

Vin managed a small grin and then his face blanched. "Shit... " he bolted for the bathroom, hitting the wall twice before Ezra steadied him. Vin pushed him back and shut the door, jerking his pants off just in time.

Ezra waited until the toilet flushed and tapped on the door. "Vin?"

"I'm okay..." he grunted, tugging the door open. He eyed his haggard appearance in the mirror and didn't hide the fear in his eyes. He saw Ezra cool face behind him and felt the reassuring tug on his shoulder.

"You take a shower, get changed and then we'll talk. Don't push too hard, Vin, we'll figure it out."

"Okay..." Vin sighed, then turned, catching the green eyes, "Hey, Ez... thanks... Ya got no idea how good it was t'see yer ugly mug..." He saw the glint of the gold tooth as Ezra smiled, before leaving. He'd taken the old clothes with him and Vin turned the shower on, hoping the steaming water would clear up the mess in his head.

Ezra eyed the packets of taco sauce that were in Vin's pocket, along with his wallet. He dialed Chris Larabee's phone and waited.

Chris had just kissed the chablis from his lover's lips, when the phone rang. He ignored the annoying sound from his jacket pocket nearby and continued his tantalizing exploration of Mary Travis's throat.

"Chris... you should answer that..." Mary said huskily, pulling his face from her neck.

"I'm busy..." Chris denied, kissing her mouth and caressing the firm skin under the hemline of her teeshirt.

"Chris..."

He sighed and pulled himself free, striding across the kitchen into the dining room. Mary went back to tossing the salad as he picked up his phone.

"Hello..."

"Chris?"

"Ezra, this better be good," he growled, still feeling the strong desire as he eyed the pretty blonde widow.

"It's Vin..."

"What happened?" Chris's voice rose and his jerked his slumped frame completely upright. The sharp tone caused Mary to appear immediately, concern written on her face. He held his hand up, and waited, listening for Ezra to continue.

"I'm not entirely sure and unfortunately neither is he," Ezra paused, "He called a little while ago from the train station near my house. He asked me to pick him up."

"What the hell was he doing over there?"

"I don't know and his last memory is of coffee with you this morning, the rest is blank, but he's very ill. He was huddled on the platform vomiting when I arrived. He refused a trip to the hospital. I got some ginger ale in him and he's showering. He also had a rather nasty bout of diarrhea. He's very clammy, cold sweats and had a bad headache. I didn't want to alarm him, but he's got a rather nasty bruise on his inner arm, where it bends."

"Somebody drugged him?"

"That would be my guess... although he did have a visit to Pablo's, I found some taco sauce in his pocket. It could be he's suffering from food poisoning."

"That don't give you amnesia..." Chris snarled, running a hand through his short hair.

"He's very upset..." Ezra warned, hearing the sharp tone in the leader's voice.

"Yeah, okay, Ezra, I'll be right over. Call around, maybe Vin talked to somebody else before he got sick."

"Will do," Ezra pushed the phone off as the shower stopped. A few minutes later he popped his head into the room and saw only the top of Vin's head. The rest of him was buried under a pile of blankets. Ezra moved closer and saw that the sick man was fast asleep. He left quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked, seeing the strain on Chris's face.

"Something's wrong with Vin. He called Ezra's from the train station over there. He can't remember what happened to him. Ezra said he's pretty sick, like maybe he has food poisoning. I'm headed over. Do me a favor and call Nathan. I want him to meet me there. Damn..."

"He'll be okay," Mary stroked the tense jaw, seeing the worry that only the Texan could bring to his face.

"Yeah... sorry about dinner."

"It'll keep... I be here where you come back. We can have a picnic..." She teased, smiling when he groaned and kissed her. The phone rang again and cut his passion off.

"Larabee."

"Chris! Thank God," Buck exhaled, "Listen, I think something happened to Vin..."

"It did, Ezra found him at the train station over his way, sick as a dog. Why?"

"I found his bike here and his keys and got worried," Buck relayed, "Listen to the message he left me at two-thirty."

"What the hell did you stumble into Cowboy?" Chris groaned, rubbing the tension from this eyes. "Meet me at Ezra's, round up the gang..."

"Is he okay?"

"From what Ezra said, it sounds like food poisoning, except the last thing he remembers is coffee this morning. Plus, Ezra said he's got a bruise on his arm..."

"Damn..." Buck hissed, "I'll update the others and see you over there."

Ezra was talking with Nathan on the phone, when Chris arrived. He took one look at the anxious blond's face and pointed to the guest room.

"Chris just arrived," he said eyeing J.D.'s car pulling up. "Josiah and J.D. are here as well. Okay, see you soon."

Chris sat on the side of the bed, and rested a hand on Vin's shoulder, staring at his face. He moved his free hand, wiping sweat from the cold, clammy skin. Vin shuddered and his eyes peeled open, and he tried to pull away.

"Easy, Vin..."

"Chris?" Vin croaked, blinking and licking his dry lips. "...thirsty..."

"Here..." Ezra handed Chris a cold glass of ginger ale.

"Sit up, Vin." Chris coached, handing him the soda. "Whoa..." he grabbed the wobbly hand and guided it safely. "Better?" he inquired as Vin took several small sips. "How you feeling, Vin?"

"...like stir fried shit..."

"Your sense of humor wasn't damaged," Ezra noted wryly. "How's your stomach?"

"Rocky... m'head hurts..."

"Ezra said you can't remember anything?"

"No..." Vin hushed, slumping his shoulders. His eyes caught the pile of clothes and he remembered the state he was found in. "Sorry, Ez..."

"I thought we cleared that up," Ezra scolded, "I never met anyone so fond of apologizing without fault."

Chris saw the same thing Ezra had, the red marks when the sun burned Vin's unprotected skin. The eyes were clouded and pained, and the bruised arm had him worried.

Vin saw Chris's worry lines and followed the green gaze downward.

"Shit!" he hissed, his fingers brushing over the purpled flesh. "Where'd I get that? Goddammit!"

"Take it easy, Vin..." Chris warned, grabbing the wayward clenched fist.

"Vin! You look awful!" J.D. announced entering the now crowded room with Josiah in tow.

"Well I guess I ain't as snappy as ya'll look when yer pukin' yer guts up, J.D.!" Vin lashed out, the fear frying his last nerve. "Fuck..." he swore as the rumble in his intenstinal track moved him from the bed and into the bathroom.

J.D. started to open his mouth to apologize, but Chris silenced him with one look. He jerked his head at the door and the others left quietly, shutting it behind them. Chris waited and watched as Vin reappeared and slowly got back to the bed. He sat on the side, staring at the seafoam green carpeting. Finally, he brought his head up, meeting Chris's worried gaze.

"Alright Vin, let's add up what we do know, okay?" Chris asked and saw the head dip once. "You talked to me about noontime, said you were going to leave by four. Ezra found taco seasoning packets from Pablo's in your pocket. Buck got a message from you at two thirty..." He paused when Vin sat up straight and swallowed hard.

"What kinda message?" Vin drilled, eyes darting as he tried to recall... anything.

"You said you needed to find him, that you 'saw somebody' and then the line was cut off. What do you remember about when you woke up?"

"Somebody talkin' t'me... was waitin' fer the train... heard me hollerin'... haulin' me up... throwed up in the trash... hurt a helluva lot... couldn't hardly focus... called Ezra..."

"That was almost seven. Who was the person who helped you?"

"Dunno." Vin shrugged, "It's real fuzzy... gray pants... reddish hair... I don't know Chris..."

Vin's voice was annoyed and Chris pulled back. "Okay, Vin." He crossed the room and sat next to the forlorn figure on the bed. "It could be you had food poisoning and were chasing whoever this person was you had to tell Buck about. Maybe you passed out and laid there in the sun, until somebody found you. That bruise could just be from them pulling you to the trash can..."

Vin didn't answer and Chris knew he wouldn't, he'd said all he as going to say. "You thirsty?" He saw the head bob and left to get Vin a glass of water.

"Jesus, you scared me, Vin." Buck was out of breath and his anxious voice caused Vin's head to pop up. He rested a hand on Vin's slumped shoulder. "Who'd you see Vin? You didn't call anybody else, so it had to concern me. You sounded frantic... Who was it?"

"Stop!" Vin screamed, backing up and putting his hands over his ears, the pain in his head was pulsating like a hot red beacon. "I don't know... I can't remember... I'm sorry I fucked up... " he moved to escape the pain and the questions, seeking somewhere dark to hide. He stumbled and ended up on his knees, crawling toward the corner.

"What the hell did you, Buck?" Chris growled, putting the water down and bending over Vin.

"He freaked out, Chris... I just asked him about the phone message... I..."

"Get out!" Chris ordered hotly.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Get... out..." Chris said in a low and lethal voice that moved Buck from the room. He didn't force Vin to rise, but knelt next to him, waiting for the tense body to uncurl. Finally, Vin's hand came up and latched onto his arm. Chris guided him back to the bed and waited until the water disappeared. He heard Nathan's voice outside and eyed his pale friend.

"Nate's here... I think he should have a look at you, okay?"

"Yeah..." Vin whispered.

Chris made a beeline to the patio and grabbed Buck's arm, jerking him from the converation he was having with Josiah.

"What's the matter with you, upsetting him like that?"

"I didn't mean to upset him," Buck said quietly, "I was just... I wanted to find out... I'm sorry, Chris. When I found his keys and heard that message I thought the worst."

"How's he doing?" Josiah asked breaking the tension.

"It could be food poisoning... but I don't like that bruise." Chris took the beer J.D. offered and sat down. "Hell, there's thousands of employees in that building. No telling who Vin saw..."

"Nate?" Buck turned as the healer joined them.

Chris cocked his head as Nate spoke, absorbing the words carefully.

"He's sleeping. It could be he got sick from lunch and passed out, got too much sun."

"What was he doing at the train station?" J.D. denied.

"Maybe he was chasing whoever it is he told Buck about and passed out. Maybe they took the train." Josiah theorized.

"I don't think so..." Chris shook his head, "I don't like that mark on his arm."

"I don't either," Nate agreed, "It could be a bruise, Ezra said somebody pulled him up at the train."

"But you don't think so?" Ezra guessed and saw the dark head nod.

"No, I think he was drugged, that mark is similiar to when a vein is blown. Maybe it'll come back to him. Right now, he needs to rest and get some fluids. No more questions... he's really shook up He barely answered me, but his eyes were talkin' real loud."

"Chris, it might be wise for you to stay," Nate advised, "He's really upset."

"I'm not going anywhere." Chris indicated. "Sorry I chewed your head off Buck..."

"s'okay Chris..." Buck replied.

While his friends worried about him several yards away, Vin Tanner's heart pounded so hard against his chest wall, he flinched. Nate said not to worry, that he probably ate bad food and passed out in the sun. But Vin was worried... and the hammering heart and black wall in his memory were too much to bear. He let go and surrendered, his brows creasing as far beyond on the outskirts of his mind, he heard a chilling laugh. "Buck..." he whispered as he slipped into the void.

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June 21

The dawn crested on a new day and Chris hoped it would bring some answers. He stretched and eased back into the comfortable chair on Ezra's patio. His bare feet were crossed at the ankles, supported by a small table. He sipped a large mug of expensive coffee, the southerner had it custom blended and sent from New Orleans, and watched the rosy sky shine on the city coming to life. He turned his head as the patio door slid open and Ezra appeared. He took the seat across from Chris and sipped his own mug of coffee.

"Did you sleep at all?" Ezra asked the weary face hovered over a slow rise of steam.

"Yeah... Vin only got up a couple times." Chris yawned, "He's been sound since two a.m. I got two meetings this morning with Orin and the Denver Police Department about the arson investigation. I can shake free by two or so, I'll come by and pick Vin up."

"I have work I can finish on my laptop..." Ezra understood Chris's silent request. He'd been thinking on Vin during the night and decided he'd made a large error in judgement by not taking him to a hospital.

"Spit it out," Chris eyed Ezra and saw the shadows of doubt lurking on the fine features.

"I should have taken him to the hospital. What if he was poisoned?"

"I thought about that..." Chris mused, "I almost dragged him out at one a.m. when he stumbled out of the bathroom. He turned me down, said he was fine... sort of..."

"His choice of words were a bit less refined?" Ezra guessed, mentally hearing the salty tongue of the sharpshooter.

"Just a bit," Chris agreed, finishing his coffee. "I'm going to talk to him again." Chris drained his coffee and gave a quick squeeze to Ezra's shoulder. "He was lucky you were here."

It was after seven a.m. when Vin's eyes peeled open. He heard voices and stared at the strange bedroom. Then the events of the night before returned and he scrubbed his face with one hand and pushed himself up. He sat on the side of the bed and tested his balance. The dizziness was gone, the headache much dimished and his stomach was only slightly queasy. Seeking to quench the fire in his mouth, he rose and stumbled through the hall. His stomach rebelled slightly when his senses were assaulted by one of his favorite all time smells, bacon cooking.

"You look like shit, Cowboy," Chris placed several strips of bacon on a roll that already had eggs and cheese on it. He took a bite of the tantalizing sandwich and watched Vin slide past, giving him a silent salute on his way to the fridge. "That's not a good idea, Vin..." Chris warned as Vin's hand reached for orange juice. "It's got a lot of acid in it... Ezra chilled some gatorade... drink that. He's got tea brewing for you, too... something herbal for upset stomachs."

"...'kay..." Vin whispered, shuffling back to the table.

"Vin?"

"Huh?"

Chris chuckled at the toussled hair and sleepy face. The blue eyes were barely open and the body language bespoke a need to return to the bed. "Nevermind..." Chris took another bite and rose, getting the gatorade. He poured a glass and set it in front of the confused soul, who took a good gulp.

"I'm fine..." Vin's annoyed tone answered the penetrating green glare. "It musta been the food... passin' out in the sun didn't help. I ain't dizzy no more and m'head don't hurt s'much. Stomach's iffy... but better."

"Anything come back?" Chris asked and saw the shaggy head shake and dip down. Vin rubbed his eyes and yawned, blinking rapidly. The gatorade was gone and Chris refilled it, jerking his head for Vin to return to bed. "You rest up... I'll be back this afternoon to take you home, okay?"

"Yeah..." Vin stood and made his way back to the guestroom. He paused at the doorway and turned back, staring hard at the his concerned friend. "How am I gonna fix the hole, Chris?"

Chris studied the lost blue eyes and heard the fear in the raspy voice. He moved forward and rested a hand on Vin's shoulder. "You're not, Vin... we are... okay?" He watched the head dip once and gently pushed him towards the bed.

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It was just after seven a.m. when Buck arrived at Marie's. The small coffee shop was down the street from the Federal Building and a favorite for the early riser's on their way to work. He inhaled the wonderous scent of bacon, coffee and fresh apple-cinnamon muffins. His dark head rose above the crowd at the counter, who were seeking sandwiches and tasty treats to go.

He moved past the throng to the back booth, bending to profess a sincere apology.

"You're late."

"Traffic was a bitch," Buck tried, tipping the pretty woman's face up and kissing her, "Forgiven?"

"I'll think about it..." she mused, blue eyes narrowing, "...a proper penalty that is..."

"You're gonna kill me, J.C.," Buck groaned, eyeing the delicious figure across from him. "Did you order?"

"I did," she answered, sliding her foot from her shoe and running it up the inside of his thigh. The effect sent the coffee sputtering from his mouth.

"Dammit..." Buck hissed, shoving the troublesome foot away, "Quit doing that... I got to be in work in a half hour."

"Pity." She denied, smiling as the waitress appeared and set two plates down. She watched as he drifted off, stirring his coffee. The eyes were dark with concern and she rested her hand on his. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Buck blinked, squeezing the soft hand, "Oh, sorry Darlin'... nothing for you to worry your pretty head about."

"Did something happen at work? One of your teammates?"

"Vin... well, he got sick yesterday, passed out clear across town..."

"That's dreadful," she frowned, "Was he on stakeout or something?"

"No... we were all out, he was in the Files Room... he don't know how he got over there. He's pretty shook up. Nate thinks it's food poisoning maybe..."

"Ouch!" She winced, "I've been there, you want to just curl up and die."

"I saw that first hand," he agreed, thinking on Vin the evening before. "How'd your meeting with the board go?" As she used her normal animated gestures to reply, he realized it was almost six weeks since they'd met. Leaving work one night, he'd seen the stunning redhead in the parking lot, staring at a flat tire. An hour later, after he'd changed the tire and cleaned up, she insisted on buying him dinner to thank him. He agreed to dinner, but not the treat. The rest was six weeks of heaven.

"You're going to be late..." She cast an eye on the clock.

"I got a few extra minutes, Chris has a meeting this morning..." Buck tossed a couple of bills on the table and rose. They walked quickly to the Federal Building and towards the main doors. His eyes twinkled and he ducked into the dark cover of the underground parking facility.

"What are you doing?" She argued, "This isn't the way to..."

"Sometimes you talk to much... " Buck silenced her with a long, probing kiss. His hands cupped the firm backside and he pulled her close. He groaned and inhaled the musky scent of her skin. He felt her hand slip down and rub him provocatively.

"See you later, sailor..." she said huskily, nipping his neck hard enough to elicit a yelp. She winked and left him grinning painfully. She walked back to the lobby and slipped in the ladie's room. She eyed smiled at the smug reflection, running a finger across her bruised lips. The feeling of euphoria that surged through her was beyond compare. Good looks and charm aside, he was a great lover. She'd lured him quickly and he was completely under her spell. He accepted her erratic hours and hectic schedule, a ruse used to prevent her identity from being revealed to his friends. He was pressing for her to meet them... she laughed at the irony of that. She couldn't wait to see his face when he discovered the truth. She cast a mental image of his face, twisted in pain and disbelief, standing over the corpses of his friends. Turning and leaving the room, now that Buck was out of the way, Jamie Cameron Newlander a.k.a. Cameron Delaney, eased back into the dark belly of the building, widening her deadly web.

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June 24

"I thought this day would never come," Kennedy complained, eyeing the planes taking off.

"An unfortunate delay," Delaney answered of the Vice President's unexpected visit two days prior. The airport had been screaming with security and secret service men. Now that things were back to normal, it was time to move to phase two. "Is everything secure?" she asked.

"Yeah, all those babies are tucked away nice and tight," he noted of the explosives. "I'll put the call in at nine."

"Excellent," she tossed her head, the single braid secured the reddish mane. "I'll see you down there."

"Roger Boss," Tony saluted as she left. His eyes stared openly at the full breasts and tight butt. "Damn what a waste... a body that fine stuck with a fucked up mind." He turned the engine over and moved the van into level four of the parking garage.

Nine a.m. Team Seven office

J.D. was on his way to the Forensics Lab, when the phone rang. It was a quiet morning, with most of the team missing. Buck was being cross-examined at the courthouse, finishing up his testimony against an arms dealer. Chris, Josiah and Ezra were spending the day with Denver Police Department as part of an Arson stakeout across town.

"ATF, Dunne." J.D. sat up straight and nodded, "Yessir, we'll be right up." He hung the phone up and cast his gaze around the nearly empty room. Nate was in the conference room, with photo's of the previous arson cases linked to the same felon, spread out for review. Vin was at his desk, typing a report.

"Hey guys," J.D. called out, watching Vin's head rise and Nate's poke out from the doorway. "Orin wants to see us... now."

"What's up?" Vin said, walking towards the youth.

"He didn't say... but he stressed we move fast."

"Okay, Kid," Vin waited for Nate and they made their way upstairs to the Division Director's office. The secretary knew they were expected and waved them right through.

"Good Morning, Orin," Nate said, nodding to the figure in the chair.

"It was... until ten minutes ago. A threat was phoned in at the airport, several bombs in a variety of locations.," he rose and moved towards them. "J.D., you and Nathan will report directly to Captain McGillis at the command center just inside the entrace to the arrivals area. Vin, you pick up Candy on your way out there. You'll be partnered with her."

"No way!" J.D. complained, "How come Vin gets Candy?"

"Thanks, J.D.," Nate grumbled, smacking the youth's arm.

"Because I said so," Orin steeled, watching Vin grin.

"Besides, she likes Vin..." Nate teased, elbowing the youth. "You ain't as cute as him."

"Shut up, Nate!" J.D. complained, heading for the elevators.

"You two pick up your gear at the airport. Vin, yours is downstairs, make sure you and Candy are ready when you arrive."

"Yessir..." Vin nodded.

The trio arrived in the parking lot together. J.D. and Nate headed for Nate's car, pausing long enough to watch Vin greet his partner.

"Hey Lady," Vin enthused as Candy greeted him warmly.

"It's a shame you can't turn on a two-footed female like that," J.D. teased, watching Vin get his gear on and readying his canine partner. The chuckling duo departed and Vin rode with Candy in the Van with the other canine teams.

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By eleven o'clock two more bombs were found. Nate and J.D. were on level four of the parking facility. Vin and Candy were at the other end, far out of sight.

Candy's tail wagged and she buried her nose under the back tire of a car.

"Ya got somethin', Girl?" Vin asked, squatting to peer under the vehicle. The sharp yelp caused him to turn as the German shepard fell over. "Hey..." he bent over the still body, eyeing the orange dart in her hind leg. He reached for his comm-link, clipped to his belt, but a blow to the back of his head, ended that act.

"Quickly," Delaney hissed, as Kennedy pulled the body up. The bombs had all been planted in the terminals. The main teams were over there, leaving the two backups, Dunne and Jackson and Tanner and the dog, to search the parking area. They kept in contact every fifteen minutes, so time was important. She held Tanner upright and Kennedy disabled the commlink and took off the ATF jacket and protective gear, followed by the shirt. "Hold him, now..." she warned, as Kennedy eased his body forward, so he was lying on his stomach on the ground.

"You sure he won't feel this?" Kennedy asked of the strange action she was planning.

"No, this shot of lidocaine will take care of that," she said of the anesthetic, "...for a good two hours. There... all done..." she put the syringe away and opened the black box, her eyes shining.

"I can't watch this," Kennedy turned away, the very sight of the object made him shiver.

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Buck was trotting down the steps of the courthouse, when his beeper went off. Frowning, he dialed the number to Orin's office. The receptionist answered and quickly updated him.

"There was a bomb scare at the airport, you're to report there."

"Will do," Buck replied, flipping his cell phone and hurrying to his car.

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"That's it," J.D. exclaimed, pushing the button on his comm-link. "Vin, we're done here, copy?" He waited, then exchanged a frown with Nathan. "Vin, can you hear me, copy?" J.D. turned to his partner, wearing a concerned face. "Nate... something's wrong..."

"Maybe, or just maybe his comm-link isn't working... Let's go."

The two moved quickly through the cavernous parking level, turning twice before entering the sector where Vin should be. Both sets of eyes peeled, left and right, guns drawn.

"Candy!" J.D. whispered, pointing to the dog lying dormant by a red sportscar.

Nate knelt down and felt her pulse. He checked her eyes and gently rubbed her head. "Drugged... probably a tranquilizer..."

While Nathan was examining the dog, J.D. began to look around for the missing member of their team. He was several feet away from his partner and didn't see the arm rising behind him, bearing a weapon.

"J.D.!"

At the cry of his teammate's voice, the youth spun, weapon drawn. He felt a sting in his thigh at the same time he saw blur of motion as Nate's body flew through the air. J.D. went down in a heap, his eyes wide, his breath shallow. His tongue was thick and he fought with his last ounce of strength to warn Nathan. His eyes slid shut as the shot sounded, the last image he had was Nate falling.

"What did you do that for?" Tony Kennedy hissed, rising from the ground. He knelt by the stricken agent, as blood pooled underneath him. "Are you crazy? This place is crawling with cops."

"Not in this sector and we're losing time. Get Dunne to the van and move out... now!" she commanded. She climbed into the back of the van first, helping to pull the unconscious agent in after her. She smiled as Tanner's bewildered form appeared at the end of the ramp.

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