Setting: ATF Universe
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.
"He's freezing..." Nate barked as Ezra was laid on the sofa in the study. "Get them wet clothes off of him..."
"Jesus, his hands are like ice," J.D. rubbed the slack hand, hoping to restore circulation.
"Buck, head back upstairs to that doctor's room, I saw a bag in the top of her closet. Josiah, go with him...get some warm clothes for Ezra," he asked of the southerner's roommate for the weekend.
"Is he okay, Nate?" Buck paused over the pale, shivering unconscious body. He frowned at the wet, bloody shirt and winced as he felt the icy flesh.
"He will be, once I warm him..and stitch that side," the healer noted, "Blankets...too..."
"Did he say where Chris and Vin were?" J.D. asked the security guard retreating.
"No...mumbled somthing about Orrin Travis and the ATF and his girlfriend..."
"Girlfriend?" Nate tossed the sopping shirt away, from where he knelt next to Erza by the fire. Soon as the rest of the icy clothes were removed and the body bundled in a large afghan from the sofa.
":Yeah...Tanya or Tatanya...or something odd...You got this...we want to go back to the area where we found him...look for the other two..."
"Stay in touch!" Orrin commanded, frowning down at Ezra Standish's body.
Twenty minutes went by, warm clothes were put on the shivering body, after the stitches in his side were bandaged. J.D. went with Derek and Josiah to the desk, looking at the old drawings from the original architect. Nate and Orrin remained by Ezra. Mary appeared, having changed into jeans and a sweater. She made her way to Ezra's side.
"What happened?" She asked, watching Nate tap the pale face and Ezra furrow his unopened lids.
"We're not sure," her father-in-law replied, rising and nodding to the desk. "Josiah?"
"Can't find anyplace that explains it...he and Chris were upstairs...they didn't leave from the house, the camera's would have picked them up. That tunnel...or tunnels...could go in any direction."
"Ezra...Ezra..." Nate lightly tapped the stilled cheek, until a green eye opened and inspected him oddly. "Welcome back..."
"It was a journey I would have gladly skipped." Ezra groaned, holding his side and trying to sit up.
"Nuh-uh," the dark-skinned EMT denied, "You stay put...you got chills and lost some blood."
"Nonsense," Ezra scoffed, sitting up and fingering the dark green sweatshirt he now wore. He took a brandy from Buck, who winked at him and gave him a small nod. "Thank you...what happened?"
"We were hoping you could tell us, Ace," the anxious mustached agent asked.
"A couple of the guards found you staggering around in the storm way on the outskirts of the property." Jackson supplied, then grabbed the body as the jade eyes widened and the whole frame swayed.
"Sweet Jesus...Vin..."
"What about Vin?" Buck demanded, "and Chris...where's he? Ezra? Ezra?" He shook the stuperous man.
"Buck!" Nate warned, moving his body between them. "Ez...what's going on?"
"Hekate...I saw...poor Mr. Tanner..."
"Who's Hekate?"
"Carlos Nardone's wife..."
"She died, didn't she?" J.D. recalled of a news brief after he fled the country.
"No...she was in a coma..." Orrin replied, pursing his lips in thought. "She had an accident...in Mexico, going to the airstrip to meet his plane. The flight was late, he was held up while he tortured Vin. I thought I read where Nardone spared no expense. She had round the clock nurses at their estate..."
"Start talking Ezra, we're losing time." Buck pressed.
"Upstairs in the hallway, not far from the room where you left Vin, there is a secret passage. They've taken him below the bowels of this estate. They have a coven of sorts there...black cloaks and candles...chanting...paying homage...he calls himself 'Jonathan." Ezra paused and sipped the brandy, savoring the warmth that flooded him. "He has about a dozen young people with him, mostly male but six or seven females."
"Brielle..." Derek gasped, his voice an odd blend of horror and hope.
"What about Chris and Vin?" Buck demanded.
"There were several tunnels, we split up. They caught Chris...I found him in a ...a..."
"Tomb..." Nate replied, shivering at the video that they saw.
"..yes..." Ezra shivered, annoyed that he couldn't chase the chills away. "We found the area where Vin was being held...he's been badly injured...his leg..."
"We saw..." Josiah angered, "the bastard sent us a video..."
"Before we could devise a plan to rescue him, we discovered the real motive. Nardone is leading those fools by their noses. They believe him to be a Satanic cult leader named Jonathan. They think he's delivering them into an Eden of sorts, through a resurrection of a mythical goddess named Hekate. It's a macabre ruse..."
"The real motive?" J.D. cocked his head, tearing away from the map he studied.
"Mr. Tanner is AB negative, is he not?" The determined southerner rose, letting Buck held him stand. He remained in the other's supportive stance and saw Nate's worried face rise up.
"What about Vin's blood type?"
"It was Maria Nardone's as well, I'd wager..."
"Jesus!" Buck reeled back, dropping Ezra's arm and causing the smaller man to stagger. Only Nate's quick move saved him from toppling.
"What?" J.D. frowned, eyeing the twin looks of sickness riding Buck and Ezra.. "What?" He repeated, seeing Nate close his eyes and run a dark hand over his ashen face. "She's in Mexico...what's she got to do with Vin?" The youth inquired.
"She's in a glass coffin in the subterrainean maze beneath this property." Ezra moved dazedly towards the map."...and that loathesome lunatic has a depraved notion that Vin's blood will restore her."
"You...can't....he wouldn't...you...don't...." J.D. denied, swallowing hard as the color left his face. "Oh God..."
"We have lots of work to do and little time to waste," Ezra's mind snapped back, he eyed the map for a few seconds, then stared hard at Derek Hawke. "A chapel...a family burial plot...where is it?"
"In Denver...my parents, grandparents...wife..." he paused, "Why?"
"I was there...that's where the tunnel led. When we were jumped, Chris shoved me into a tunnel, it got smaller and smaller until I was forced to crawl out. I came out in a cemetary..."
"That's impossible!" the owner denied, "I have no cemetary on the grounds."
"What was here before this?" Josiah asked, watching the older man trying to remember.
"My grandfather built this house...the land...the land was empty for over a hundred years."
"No...something was here..." the preacher eyed the ceiling, "How do you explain the tunnel in the wall?"
"I can't..." he shook his head."Well..no...that was just a myth..."
"What?" Nate asked, cocking his head.
"Well," Hawke sighed, "When I was little, there was an eldery man who used to work for my grandfather. When he was too feeble to continue working, my grandfather built him a cottage on the outskirts of the property. He used to tell me ghost stories...warned me if I didn't behave I'd get buried alive too."
"Buried alive?" Buck frowned.
"Some nonsense about a bunch of Spanish soldiers...got smallpox and were quarentined...the others grew fearful and sealed them in a vault...used stones...later...much later...another band of Spanish explorers found them...and buried them."
"That explains the tunnels..." Nate wondered, imaging the entombed prisoners trying to dig their way out. "But how could you not know about the ones in the walls?"
"My parents lived in Europe. We visited twice yearly...I married and split my time between London and New York. I only vacationed here. It's been kept up, of course, but...the servents ran the estate."
"Enough!" Buck moved to the map, "Ezra, can you find this place...where you got loose? We can split up. Half take the tunnel in the wall, the other half the cemetary." He glanced at his watch."It's almost eleven o'clock, we're losing time."
"Very well...I can show you the area in the wall upstairs. You'll need flashlights...and weapons." He glanced at the map and then closed his eyes, replacing the image. "It's southeast...on the far far edge of the property, beneath a large overgrowth of bushes, down a steep hill. Here..." he pointed. "I can find it..."
"Let's move!" Buck roared. "I'm gonna skin that son-of-a-bitch alive...."
If there was a place that was close to heaven, it was the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. Vin Tanner raised his head, as the wind kissed his face. He inhaled the sweet scent and took an air bath in the glorious sunshine. He turned around in the raft, giving his best friend a beaming, life-drunk smile. It came right back at him, giving him a warm, self-satisfied feeling he'd missed most of his life. With Chris by his side, he felt nearly invincible. It was hard to put into words, the feeling of wholeness...like two halves of a coin. Each separate in their own right , but forged together by fate and bound for eternity. He heard the blond curse softly as a the churning river picked up as they approached a turn. His own war whoop of enthusiasm was met by another string of curses. Some of the words died in the rush of river, but the '...damn sorry-assed Texan...' stayed with him, giving him another smile. He heard Chris calling his name as the raft jumped and rode the current. Life just didn't get any better.
With every precious second that passed, Chris watched Vin's contented face get paler. He eyed the room, occupants, doorways, paths and weapons, gaging his move. The knife to his throat didn't leave much room for mistakes. He figured, with the right timing, he could take the two beefy men guarding him. He knew he couldn't wait too much longer, Vin was losing too much blood. He lip curled up in disgust when Nardone 'annointed' Vin's head and heart with an oil of somekind.
"Don't you fuckin' touch him..." he growled, his eyes glowering.
"You are either very brave or very foolish," the deluded leader replied, eyeing the knife tip that left yet another scarlet nick in the snarling enemies skin. "It was clearly spelled out in the vision I had in Mexico. He was the one to deliver my Hekate back to me. He carried the sacred blood and must pay for his sins. It is his..."
"Sins!" Chris roared, fighting against the arms that held him, ignoring the pain in his chest and the knife that bit into his collarbone.
"Yes! The mortal kind," the deranged South American replied. "If it not for having to be punished that day...She would still be with me."
"You damn near beat him to death...that was your choice. It's your fault she died..."
"She is not dead!" He roared, gripping Vin's throat tightly, enough to make the dazed blues widen in shock as the air was cut off. "She is waiting on the other side of the river...the path to Elysium is becoming clearer..."
Chris stared at the glazed black eyes of the tall, olive-skinned man. The hood slipped off, revealing a newly shorn head and goatee. He looked like evil incarnate...right down to the maniacal laugh.
"You're outta of your fuckin mind..." Chris spat, then saw his chance. He drew back and laughed, "You killed your wife...she died because of you, Nardone..." he saw several of the followers heads turn, first to him, then to Nardone.
"He is Jonathan..." a young woman near him informed. "He is our divine leader...he..."
"He is a fuckin' drug lord in South America. The only thing he's 'leading' is a body count. His name is Carlos Nardone. He's a drug dealer, gun runner and murdering bastard..."
"No...no...." murmurs rippled among the group.
"Silence Infidel!" Nardone roared at Larabee, backhanding Vin so hard, blood spurted from his mouth and nose. "See what you have done!"
Chris saw his opening. Nardone hands were trembling in rage and his eyes darted, searching for something lost long ago. He left Vin and made his way to the glass coffin. It was connected to a battery powered generator, which kept the body inside supplied with oxygen and life-sustaining fluids. Nardone had already prepared her, in order to divert Vin's blood into her. He saw the madman lift the lid covering her and place his hand on the side of her face. His own green eyes slid sideways. The gathering began murmur...eyes looking at the tall dark man in confusion. Chris took a deep breath, waiting for the blade near his throat to tremble and flex, then he made his move.
"J.D....." Buck called into the radio, waiting for the static to leave. He was in a car with Ezra and Nathan. Two of Hawke's security team had left prior and were attempting to reach the ranger's station a few miles away. Although is was deserted, there would be a radio inside. They were prepared to leave the vehicle if the road was too icy and walk the rest of the way. Josiah , J.D. and two more of Hawke's men were in the tunnel that began at the end of the hallway of the second floor. Somewhere in this puzzle, the architect's original blueprints would answer the question. The builder must have found the lost tunnels and perhaps buried rooms of a settlement from the seventeenhundreds. As they left, Josiah remarked that he wouldn't be surprised if the returning soldiers had settled for awhile, enlarged the tunnels, maybe leaving treasure secured there. "Kid?"
"Yeah...we're in..." Dunne replied, gripping his gun and following Josiah's large frame. The lead figure held a large flashlight. "You guys ready?"
"We're just reaching the cemetary, can't see any buildings...a few tombstones..." Buck craned his neck, peering through the glass into the dark night. The headlights caught a pile of leaves and forest debris, raised off the ground. It had an odd, rectangular shape. "...we're gonna get out now and search around...I'll check back."
"Okay, Buck..." J.D. signed off. He stopped short when Josiah tapped the man in front on him on the shoulder.
"You hear something?" The ex-minister asked the burly guard in front of him. They all stood stock-still and listened. Faint voices and murmurs were heard. Following the sounds, they crept silently, deeper into the maze.
"Ugh..." Chris grunted and shoved his elbow into the guards soft spot, just under his ribcage. With one deft move, he snapped his leg out, kicking the groin of the other guard hard, sending him to the ground. While he'd been sitting, forced to watch the blood being stolen from Vin, he'd worked the ropes loose. Now, as he rolled on the floor, bearing the weight and fists of several of the gathering, he jerked his hands free. A glint of silver in his side vision, caused him to turn, hissing as a blade brushed across his bare ribcage. He grabbed the brute's wrist and snapped it; the knife slid from his hands. The large forearm of the guard made and unwelcomed appearance against his throat. The pressure was unbearable, cutting off his air until he saw black spots. Without hesitation, he grabbed the knife and sent the blade sideways and behind him, twisting it as it entered the belly of the brute. He fell back, the arm disappeared and Chris sucked in air. Then he kicked the face of the guard, rendering him unconscious. The others crawled away and quaked, not sure of what to do. They were young...very young and by the glazed eyes, the leader suspected whatever they'd been drinking during the ceremony was drugged. He dashed through them, ignoring the blood running down his chest, neck and side. Vin...his leaden legs lumbered for the dazed sharpshooter. But before he could get near the IV line which was draining the blood away, Nardone appeared.
"Drop it or I'll kill him..." he threatened, holding a syringe against Vin's throat. "...air embolism..." He answered the green eyes of the injection of air into the blood stream.
Chris gasped for breath, swiped the blood running from a cut over his eye and eyed the body of the woman next to him. His fingers moved to the switch of the generator. "You kill him...I'll kill her..." He saw Nardone's eyes flick towards his wife, his head moving slightly. A standoff...green eyes locked onto black ones.
The crowd grew silent, eyes darting to the two angry figures. Jonathan, their leader, who'd provided for them, taught them and was going to guide them to the Garden of Elysium. The blond infidel, blood running down his sweat-slick chest and adorning his warrior's face. The whispered among each other, then the crowd began to chant.
"Hail Jonathan...he is all powerful. Hail Jonathan...Hail Jonathan..."
Chris backed up slightly, fingers caressing the button on the generator. They rose and began to move, like lambs to the slaughter. He saw Nardone's lips curl up into an evil smile, as the army of hooded figures began to close in on him. The murmuring grew louder...his vision began to cloud, as he had no free hand to swipe the blood running in his eyes. His heart was hammering...time had just run out.
"Vin!" he screamed as they surged forward.
"Easy does it, Ace," Buck warned, helping the injured man from the car. He got Ezra to his feet and helped him manuever through the dark cemetary. Nathan was already squatting over the odd, bulky shape, brushing leaves and debris aside. The headlights from the jeep, gave bright illumination. "Anything, Nate?"
"Yeah...wood...old wood...real old..." the dark head cocked, "Sit him down on that stone bench and help me here, Buck..."
"Down you go," the taller man eased his ailing friend onto an raised slab on concrete. Within minutes, the two pairs of hands had taken all the muck away, revealing an old set of double doors, just raised inches off the ground. "Boy, that's weird..."
"No, that's smart," Nate corrected, recalling his history lessons in school. "Whoever built this, had a reason. The Spanish came through these parts in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Could be they had treasure hidden...they put the doors here, covered 'em over...Indians or anybody else chasin' 'em go right by..." He grunted, tugging on an old brass ring.
"You two are fortunate that Mr.Larabee had sense enough to acquire me for this elite group," Ezra gasped, raising his weapon and firing.
"Jesus!" Buck barked, "You could have warned me..." He kicked the lock free and pulled the door open, revealing a cold burst of air and a set of crumbling concrete steps. He backed up and made his way to the grinning southerner, as Nate cut the engine off. The EMT grabbed a large flashlight, threw on his backpack and lead the way.
"I should leave you out here..." Buck threatened, lifting Ezra's hand over his shoulder. "What if I moved...you could have killed me."
"Dreadful thought..." Ezra panted, digging his fingers into Buck's strong shoulder. "Women...women...ever...everywhere...would...throw...them...selves...off...build..ings..."
"Be a helluva funeral..." Buck grinned, taking on more of the smaller man's weight. "I'd leave you Pearl."
"Do I appear to be that desperate?" Ezra hissed of Buck's infamous black book, as pain ripped through his side.
"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Buck defended of his list of female names and numbers. "Remember Anya?"
"Hah!" Ezra choked, then grinned as the image of the six-foot Russian tennis player came into view. "I was nearly...forced into...early retirement..." The limber blond athlete met Buck on a flight from London. Buck was more interested in the pretty French writer covering the upcoming match. He'd set up Ezra on a double date, which led to a night neither would ever forget.
"You loved it," Buck tossed back, recalling the wine, lusty women and Ezra disappearing into the world class player's large suite at the hotel. He didn't come in to work for two days and limped for a week. He heard Ezra chuckle, as they entered a crypt and Nathan's light caught the shackles on the wall. "This is where them bastards tortured Vin..." He seethed, watching Nate's dark eyes following the wall.
Nate moved towards the opening, forcing it wider. "This way..."
"You okay, Ez...maybe you should wait here?" Buck didn't hide the worry in his voice.
"...and...miss...all...all...the ...fun..." Standish panted, seeing Vin's pale sacrificial body in his mind's eye. He took a deep breath and straightened his body up a bit. "Lead...on...Romeo..."
The calm trip on the river turned violent. The skies darkened, the winds kicked up, the raft twisted and turned in the current. They were tossed from the vessel, thrown like rag dolls against the violent water. Vin felt his breath leave him as the strong tide took him under. Black...blackness so dark and cold...the house of the devil. He stopped fighting, letting the icy grips of death embrace him. Then, he heard a voice, from far away. Chris...Chris was calling him...help? Chris needed him...he was in trouble. He kicked the teeth of the devils nipping at his heels. He pushed through the black water...harder...harder...until he broke the surface, spitting and choking. He turned his head in the storm, eyes frantically searching. He saw sharks circling Chris...the blond was bleeding. He was hurt..they would kill him. He saw a large monster with blood dripping from his teeth. The monster was blocking his path to Chris.
"No..." he screamed and with his last bit of strength, he dove forward, into the beast's belly . "Chris!"
The move came so fast and so unexpected, it stilled the activity in the room. Suddenly, Nardone shot forward, going to his knees. The syringe flew through the air and out of harm's way. Chris shoved a hole through the would-be-zombies and went at the large, lunatic with his knife. Nardone moved, so the blade was buried above his hip, rather then in his chest. Chris made a club from his locked hands and belted the dazed man, sending him sideways in a heap.
"Vin!" He screamed, dropping to the figure now lying on the floor. His trembling fingers eased the needle from Vin's vein and he doubled the arm over, applying pressure. Then his shaking hand found the pale throat...and a pulse. "You're gonna scare me to death yet, Cowboy..." he whispered, lifting the prone body against him. "God..." he sighed, as Vin's head flopped against his neck. The reunion was brief, as a gunshot split the air.
"No!" Chris screamed, covering Vin's body with his own.
"Gunfire!" J.D. yelled. "Move...move...." He ordered, sending the bodies in front of him into a fast run.
"Shit!" Buck screamed, as the nearby shot split their silent journey. "Sorry Ace..." He lowered Ezra to the ground, patted his shoulder once, leveled his weapon and followed Nathan up the dark passage, into the opening where low lights flickered.
"What the hell?" Buck hollered, nearly skidding into Nathan, who'd stopped in front of him.
"I don't think you're so far off," Nate answered, ducking for cover as a bullet sailed past. "Get down!"
So they split, Buck dove to the right, behind a wooden bench. He flipped it over, it's narrow length barely covered his long torso. From his vantage point, the dimly lit room revealed several hooded figures. He raised his head slightly, when he saw Josiah's close cropped gray hair sail by on a passage overhead. A cave...large and rough hewn, but with candle lamps, wooden benches, and some kind of satanic-like coven. He squinted while looking at a painting on the wall just to his right. It was an eerily realistic image of disembodied hands holding a dripping heart...then he saw whose it was. He swallowed hard as the pastel Tanner features hit his eyes.
"Vin?" He whispered, raising his head again. Nate was nowhere to be seen and Josiah disappeared too. He moved again, crawling on the damp, musty earth until his hand his something smooth. Glass...he lifted his head and just inches away on the other side was...
"Shit!" He hissed backing up and banging his forehead on the edge of the coffin. "Christ Almightly..."
Nate following the uneven, narrow passage, crawling around the upwards, winding path, until he saw a familiar face.
"Next year, let's just give out candy at the Children's Hospital..." Josiah hissed, as Nate joined him and J.D.
"Where's the other two?" Nate asked of the security men who'd been with Sanchez and Dunne.
"They found a bunch of those...those..." J.D. nodded his head to the cloaked figures below. "One of them is taking them back to the mansion to the detenion area. The other is guarding that path, Nardone can't get out that way. Can you see Chris and Vin? Who's the shooter?"
"Dunno," Nathan coughed, the dank air was close.
"I'm gonna over there for a better look," the youth bolted off, before the others could stop him.
"J.D....J.D...." Nate hissed, shaking his head as the nimble body disappeared around the perimeter. A few seconds later they saw his dark head bob over the edge of a cave wall, just above them. They watched as his keen eyes did a slow sweep of the area below, now silent and dark. The candles were all but extinguished, the few remaining not providing much light. Then his head disappeared again. The footsteps told them he was on his way back.
"Well?" Josiah asked, peering into the dim light at Dunne's sweat-streaked face.
"It's a girl...with curly hair...I'm not sure, but I think it's Gabrielle Hawke. There's something wrong with her eyes...she looks high. Vin's body is on the..."
"Body?" Nate's eyes widened.
"Well...he's on the ground, it looks like Chris dragged him behind an altar. Nardone was just starting to move, but he's bleeding bad from his side. She's in between them, keeps changing where the gun gets pointed."
"Chris or Vin hit?" Josiah queried, only to have the youth shrug.
"I can't see them. Just Vin's legs and the top of Chris's head...but..." J.D.'s thought was interrupted by the deep voice of Carlos Nardone.
"Come to me, my pet, have I not shown you the Gate of Eternity?" He oozed, watching the young woman's large, limpid eyes. His own beady dark ones fitted to the pistol in her hand. "I am Jonathan, I am you master. Your body is mine...your will is mine..."
"Hail...Jon...nath...an...." she stammered, transfixed by the dark eyes and mezmerizing voice.
"Yes..." he oozed, his hand itching for the gun. It was trained on the back of a blond head. He smiled as she raised the weapon higher. "He is the intruder...he took the Lamb from us..he hurt Hekate..."
"He...kate...hurt..." She cocked her head, blinking at the blurry body on the floor. "...kill the...in...tru..der...kill...kill..."
Buck inched his way around the coffin, frowning as a mass of lines and a humming generator got ni his way. The unit was battery powered and large..so much so he couldn't get by. He dropped flat on his back and rolled again, away from the coffin. He saw an opening in the wall and crawled inside, worming his way behind the bodies on the floor. Finally the narrow passage ended, and he turned left, peering around the bend into near darkness. A surge of relief coursed through him, as a familiar face scowled at him from a few feet away.
"Where the hell have you been?" Chris whispered, gritting his teeth against the burning pain in his ribcage.
"You're welcome," Buck muttered, wiping the trickle of blood from the cut on his forehead. "You hit?"
"No...Vin..." Chris panted, every word like a knife piercing his broken ribs. "...bastard drained his blood, Buck..."
"What?" Buck's eyes narrowed in horror. His gaze then went to the silvery shadows of Vin Tanner's face. "Chris?" he jerked his head up, eyes denying what his heart felt.
"No...he's alive...barely..." Chris coughed, his eyes lingering on the Tunnel of Lost Souls. His mind filled with a picture of Ezra slowly suffocating to death. "Ezra's gone...I think...he..."
"He's fine..." Buck sent back, "Shit, he'll bury all of us..."
"But...the tunnel...Nardone said..."
"Ez told us it collapsed on him, he dug his way out on his belly. He's just outside, he's the one who got us here."
Chris shut his eyes and took a small breath, relieve that the southerner was still among the living. "You got a clean shot?"
Buck moved up further, lifting his head enough to see the gun being raised at the back of Chris's unprotected head. The way his body was pinned down, tangled with Vin's and some debris, he couldn't move...or see the deadly threat.
"No!" Buck sprang as the gun fired.
"Buck?" Chris yelled, slumping back a bit as the pain slammed into his chest. He saw Buck stagger and drop to his knees. Several shots rang out from above, the girl dropped and the dozen hooded figures began to chant in disarray. He eased his aching, battered body, slick with blood, from beneath Vin's cold frame. He stood and staggered over to Buck, who was now on his feet.
"Where is he?" Chris gasped, eyes wide and feral. "That fuckin' lunatic is mine! Gimme your gun, Buck...I want his head on a fuckin' plate...Goddammit, give me your gun. I'm going after him. I'm gonna...I'm...I'm...shit!"
"You're gonna sit your ass down, before you keel over!"
"Get off of me, Nate...let me go...that's an...order..." Chris protested as two strong arms, lifted him from where he fell on his knees. The room darkened and when he opened his eyes again, he was seated against the broad side of the massive altar. He blinked as two concerned brown eyes looked back at him.
"No!" the dark-skinned agent growled, when the determined body tried to move past him. "You're bleeding, your ribs are busted..." he shook his head, pressing a cloth to the dodging face, "I'm hoping you still got an eye under all the blood on your face." He put pressure on the wound on the side of the damaged ribcage "...this cut on your side is bad..."
"So slap a fuckin' bandaid on it..." Chris snarled, his damp head bobbing to see past Nathan's chest. "I'm going after him. Where the fuck is he?"
"Disappeared...Buck went after him," Nate answered, securing a butterfly bandage on the wound over the eye. "You ain't fit to chase your shadow...you hear?"
"J.D. followed him..." Josiah announced, squatting by the bloody warrior named Larabee. "I herded the others over to the guard in the passage. He's taking them back to the mansion. They'll update Orrin."
"Vin?" Chris shoved Nate's hand from his side and tried to crawl to where he left his best friend.
"He's topside," Josiah answered the concerned face, "Come on, let's get you off the floor, Boss." He easily lifted the smaller man, steadying him, before helping him to sit on the altar.
"How bad?"
"He's lost a lot of blood," Jackson answered Larabee. Josiah placed Vin on the edge of the wide stone tableau. The skilled hands quickly examined the injured man and his heart sank. "The leg needs surgery...he's got a bullet in his arm..."
"That sick fuckin' dog took his blood..." Chris panted, wincing as his sticky fingers held a rough bandage against the deep wound in his side. "Is he going to die?"
"I don't know, Chris." Nate's fingers rested against Vin's throat, timing the weak pulse. "He's really weak...I can barely get anything...he needs blood."
"So take it," Chris offered, eyes meeting Nathan's.
"He's AB negative," Josiah recalled, as the organizer of Team's Seven blood donor drives, he knew all their blood types. "I can check with the guests..."
"The hell you will!" Chris roared, grimacing as his inflection forced too much breath through his injured ribs. Without realizing it, his free arm shot out, moving across Vin's chest and resting there. "Politicians...athletes...rich bitches...Who the fuck knows what they're carrying. Hepatitis, HIV...No way, I don't know they're clean. I won't take that chance, not with Vin. I'm O negative, I'm clean, you take all you need." He offered and saw Nate's stone face freeze for a moment, before the soulful brown eyes softened and a small smile played on the dark man's features.
"You'd do it too," the EMT admired, easily seeing the open display of emotion in the green eyes. Chris didn't say a word, he didn't have to, his eyes spoke volumes. "Okay...let's get you stitched up first. Josiah, see if you can find any medical gear back there," he jerked his head to the small area behind the coffin. "He must have a stash of stuff..."
"You're gonna do it here?" Sanchez asked.
"I got no choice," Jackson responded, tying off a bandage on Vin's arm. His hand rummaged in his backpack, drawing out a needle and some thread. He then took out antiseptic wound cleaner. "He's too weak to be moved. Come on, Chris, let's get you on your side, so I can get you sewn up."
"Ez...ra?" the blond grimaced, glaring at Josiah. "Get his ass in here...damn stubborn son-of-a-bitch took a blade for me..."
"Roger, Boss..." Sanchez winked, "I'll get the gear first."
Ten minutes later, Chris was lying next to Vin on the wide stone surface. Josiah found a pile of extra robes and slit the sides, making several small blankets. After Nathan used Nardone's spare equipment to set up the transfusion, he covered the injured men with the newly shorn blankets.
"From the container we found, he took about three pints from Vin."
"So take it back," Chris grunted, trying to keep his eyes open. He didn't see the wide smile on Nate Jackson's face. "What?" he asked of the soft laugh.
"Nothing," Jackson chuckled, still amazed at the ease of which Chris Larabee would sacrifice for Vin Tanner. "Two will get him stable. That will hold him until we fly him to a hospital. I hope those guards made it to the ranger's station. If these winds die down, they ought to be able to get a chopper in here."
The gunshots stopped, but the silence alarmed him more. He tried twice to stand, but ended up on his face both times. Now he was too exhausted to move, content to shiver in the cold air in the dark passage. He drifted, resting his eyes and then heard footsteps. He fumbled with his arm, cursing softly when he realized he had no weapon.
"Looking for your peashooter, Ez?" Josiah laughed, kneeling next to the harsh breathing body.
"...what's happened?"
"Vin damn near got drained of his blood. Nardone had some sick idea that he could bring her back to life. He had that glass coffin rigged up...but he took her blood out, thinking Vin's would bring her back. From what one of those kids we took into custody said, she's been in a coma for months. A couple weeks ago, she went brain dead and disappeared." He lifted Ezra up and steadied him.
"How did they get here? How is it no one saw them...or all that equipment?"
"I don't know...but these tunnels go everywhere." Josiah led the dizzy southerner back towards the large room. "Orrin said Hawke was in Europe most of the year. I heard one of the catering staff mention renovations. It's possible that's how they got in...and set this up. There was nobody here to supervise, except Hawke's secretary and I don't think she'd notice. It turns out Christina Gates took a job for the summer as Claudette's assistant," he noted of Hawke's secretary. "Then the old lady took sick, had to go back east and Gates took over. She was the shooter...she's dead. I'll bet we find some answers in the original blueprints too..." He felt Ezra stiffen as they entered the room . The pale green eyes flinched in concern at the pale body on the altar.
"Vin..." Ezra said so softly, it was nearly undiscernable. He took a deep breath as Josiah's account his home. He shook off the large arm and walked forward, over to where Nathan was checking the sniper's vital signs. His gaze fluttered to the line of life, fittingly enough connecting the two 'blood' brothers.
"May I offer..." he started, and Nathan turned, "That is to say, if you require more..."
"Thanks, Ezra," the dark eyes smiled, "But you ain't got the right type. Now that would be something, Standish blood running in that skinny Tanner body."
"It's never too late to improve one's station in life," the sly conman noted, his features softening when he looked at the pale Texan. "Will he survive?"
"I hope so," Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, "Josiah...I'm gonna need blankets, pillows, orange juice, cake or something sweet for Chris...water...Oh and let me show you where we came in, it's not far and it will be easier to get Vin to the chopper this way..." his voice trailed off as he exited the room.
The distinct snapping of fingers took Standish's gaze from Tanner's face. His eyes narrowed as his team leader's finger's wiggled. He cocked his head and saw the blood-caked Larabee features screw up. A large bandage nearly covered one eye, which now popped open to glare at him.
"What could I possibly have done?" he stammered at the penetrating gaze.
Chris lifted his head enough to see the empty room, he scowled again and wiggled his fingers impatiently. "Give it over..."
"What makes you think I'm 'packing'?" Ezra grinned wearily at the request. His own wound was throbbing in time with his head.
"You'll be packing your belongings, when I transfer your smug ass to Burnett's team," he warned of the strict, overly arrogant, highly disliked leader of Team Four. "Give it up..." he commanded, hitching himself up on his only free elbow.
"You understand I'm doing this strictly out of self-preservation." Ezra moved closer to the table, frowning slightly when he saw the bandaged chest. He gazed at the doorway, while sliding the silver flask to his boss. He felt the metal touch his fingers at the same time a gasp of pleasure sounded behind him. "You're welcome."
"You're a handy guy to have in a pinch..." Chris returned, keeping his hand extended after the small flask disappeared. He waited until Ezra gripped the hand, "...thanks..." he eyed the spot where the knife slashed the slim body. "You play your cards right, I'll approve a couple sick days."
"You're all heart." Ezra grinned, returning the shake and easing the blond back down. "and since I have no desire to reside anywhere near that loathesome creatures office," he noted of the nefarious ATF leader, "You will lie still and not lose any unnecessary body fluids or incur Mr. Jackson's wrath."
"Don't get cocky, Ezra..." Chris grunted, letting his eyes slide shut. His mind reeled with several thoughts. Would Vin survive? How would he overcome the horror of this night? Where were Buck and J.D.? He stifled a yawn and bit his lip as the burning ribs protested the slight movment. Did Nardone get away again?
"Not...this...time...my...word...V...V...Vin..."
"Did you say something?" Ezra moved back to the altar, but Chris was resting. Nathan returned and resumed his protective stance, checking the vitals of all his patients. After warning Ezra sevearl time sit down, stop talking and rest, he allowed himself a few minutes to take a breather. Josiah returned, bringing a small army bearing supplies. Mary and Rain appeared, each pitching in to tend to the wounded men.
"Buck?" Chris gasped, as Nate drew the needle out, having taken two units of blood from him.
"Nothing yet..." Josiah stated, pulling a blanket over the disgruntled Standish. "Nate, you need me? If not, I'm gonna take a couple men and head out to look for them."
"Go on," Nate nodded, shoving Chris back down. With two thick blankets under him and two more over him, he was in a warm cocoon. He drained a quart of orange juice, unable to quench his thirst. He managed to eat the small cakes that Nate gave him. He groaned as the dizziness and weakness that the EMT warned him of, overcame him. His damp head rested on a pillow. He felt a warm cloth wiping the blood from his face. He heard Mary talking softly to him, but didn't have the energy to reply. He drifted into a sea of fuzzy black and gray waves, until noise, lights and activity roused him. Unable to open his eyes, he heard strange voices and in his disorientation, became alarmed. Nardone...had he returned? Vin..was Vin safe? A hand on his shoulder brought his own arm up, weakly gripping a throat.
"Cut that out!" Nate warned, swatting the weak limb, "I'm on your side. The chopper's here, Vin's already inside. We're taking you and Ezra now. You just rest..."
Rest. How could he rest? How was Vin? Where were Buck and J.D? Was Nardone dead yet? Too many questions...too many hands poking at him. Too many voices whispering anxiously...the prick of an IV line going in his arm. Somebody placing oxygen on him...Vin...Vin...he drew his heavy eyes open long enough to first gaze at the slitted green eyes of Standish, who managed a rakish wink. Then he turned to the still, pale body next to him. The fine features relaxed in slumber made him look much younger. He kept that image, even after his eyes slid shut again, as the motion of the air vehicle sent him under the black tide.
The underground labryrinth seemed to stretch on for miles, or so it seemed to the pursuers. The dark tunnel's damp, chilling air caused his breath to come in short pants. He gripped his weapon tighter, keeping his eyes on the shadowy specter ahead of him. Grit kept him going, long after the pain in his shoulder turned into a throbbing dull ache. The burning desire pushed him; a quest to end the nightmares he'd suffered since Vin Tanner's body landed on the tarmac on a dusty airstrip. Once and for all to take the pain away that he'd carried since the day he had to answer the bandaged, battered body lying so still in a hospital bed. The raspy question, 'Did we get 'im?' still rang in his ears. But the worst pain, the one that ate at him still, was the agonizing disappointment in the penetrating blue eyes when he had to say 'no'. The soft call of 's'okay Bucklin...' wounded him deeply. Carlos Nardone had made him watch while Vin Tanner was nearly beaten to death, then laughed at him from the air when the Texan's body landed on the earth. So fueled by his quest, he ignored the blood running down his back and the numbness in his arm and drove on...for Vin and for himself.
"Where are you Buck?" J.D. thought aloud, scrambing to catch up to the older man's long strides. He'd seen his best friend take off like a shot of greased lightning after the dark devil. He jumped over the cave wall and followed, immediately immersed in a sea of darkness. Only the labored breathing and an occasional cough kept him on the right track. The twisting maze seemed endless, but at last he found fresh, cold air hitting his face. Then, just as suddenly, he was exiting the mouth of a cave. The large silver moon bathed the area in an eerie silver light. His hazel eyes adjusted and as he knelt inside the cave mouth, he gazed carefully around the perimeter. Keeping the gun trained ahead of him, he saw Nardone first in the distance. He was limping towards a dirt path. The clearing was between a thick overgrowth of foliage. Then he saw Buck follow, an action that propelled him to move.
"Shit!" Buck hissed as the spikey thorns of the bushes bit his face. The driving icy shards of the freezing rain that pelted him had no effect. He was already numb and running on empty. His leaden legs were moving on will alone. His drunken gait sent him to the ground twice, the slippery ice cutting his palms each time he tried to rise again. Then a clearing appeared and a large van. He saw Nardone clearly now, the cloak was long gone, the large body was in black jeans and a thick sweater. He'd opened the driver's side door and the dim light bulb gave light...just enough for the mustached agent to act.
"You sick son-of-a-bitch!" Buck growled, "Get your fuckin' arms up...ATF!"
"Go to hell," Nardone spat back, amazed that the injured man could walk, let alone stand. Without even flinching, he jerked the knife Larabee stabbed him with, from the fleshy area above his hip and waited. His teeth bared and he turned, launching himself at the tall agent.
All the air left Buck when the heavy wall of muscle hit him. They rolled on the icy ground, each bleeding and winded. Buck felt the knife slice him first in the thigh and then in the side. He fired his last bullet, the gasp and shudder told him Nardone was hit. He turned the gun around, clubbing the side of the evil man's face. The knife rose again, above his throat and Buck dropped the gun, using his hands to snap the other's wrist. The knife fell and the two bloody warriors each rolled away, recovering sacred breath. Wearily, they got to their knees, then staggered to their feet, circling each other like panthers.
"He is not so pretty now..." Nardone sneered, swiping blood from his lip, "The bastardo will suffer...and I will cut his heart out while he watches..."
"Not this time," Buck's voice was low and lethal.
They exchanged a series of punches, some finding flesh, some air. Each weakening with every moment from blood loss and shock. Buck's eye was swelling, his left arm long useless, blood poured from his leg and side, but he never felt stronger.
"Oh...yes...I remember now..you had a front row seat..." Nardone grunted as a fist hit his wounded side. "...such a pretty puta...my men told me...his ass...was...tight..." he baited, needing to enrage his opponent into losing the upper hand.
"...lyin' sack of shit..." Buck panted, easily hearing the falsehood. "Yeah, I remember...he never...said a word..." he laughed then, seeing the rage in the dark eyes. "...made a fool of you...pissed you off...you lost all...that...money...millions...and your whore..."
"Ahhhhh!" Nardone screamed.
"Buck!" J.D. stumbled into the clearing and was horrified at the sight of his partner.
"Stay out of it, J.D.," Buck called back, eyes never leaving the evil one's. "He's mine!"
"Not to worry..." Nardone panted, swinging a fist and making contact with the side of the already battered face. "I will...take...good...care...of the boy...after...you...are...dead..." He used a left, then a right, taking the tall gringo down.
Buck took a deep breath and willed up all his strength. He fingers roamed the dirt, until they felt the hilt of the knife. Nardone's hands were around his throat, choking the life out of him. Gritting his teeth he brought the knife up, thrusting once into the soft belly and ripping it upwards.
"Go to hell you fuckin' lunatic!" Buck gasped, watching as the life left the black eyes. It took a few more seconds before the dead weight was lifted and someone was tapping his face. His hand flew up defensively.
"I'm on your side," J.D. grabbed the errant fist. "Take it easy, you're bleeding like a stuck pig. Jesus Buck...stay down!"
"Get...off...me..." He shoved the youth aside and crawled on his belly, hauling himself up over the body. He grabbed the drug lord's throat and lifted the head, slamming it into the ground. "You son-of-a-bitch...you sick, fuckin' son-of-a-bitch..."
"Buck, he's dead," J.D. grabbed the larger body from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. "He's gone...he can't Vin anymore. He's dead." Only when the body he held lost all tension, did he move around to the front, gripping the stuperous man's shoulders. "Do you understand me? He's dead...he's gone..." The youth paused, his handsome face creasing in alarm when Buck laughed, just before going limp in his arms.
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