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: I want to thank the kind, generous and understanding editor, aka KET, for effortlessly going through this with her red pen. Thanks Pard, you got no idea how relieved I am to have my 'assets' covered. I am very very grateful, KET, thanks a million.
Note: Special thanks to editor supreme, KET, for working with me through many many many rewrites of this part.
"Sir, we're here."
"Thank you."
Adam took his hand from the radio and eyed the other passenger in the car. The young man who'd earned a special place in his heart was sleeping peacefully. He let Vin sleep a few minutes longer as the dark black car went past a series of checkpoints. Finally, they pulled into the underground parking facility that was not visible from the road. The driver eased the car next to an elevator with an armed guard in front.
"Sir!"
"At ease, Sergeant," he sighed and returned the salute through the open window. He gave the denim clad knee a shake and waited. "Vin... Vin...?"
"Huh?"
Vin yawned, sat up and rubbed his eyes. He squinted and ducked his head, eyeing the strange building he was in. "Right outta Secret Squirrel..."
"What?" Adam inquired and saw a sleepy half-grin form.
"Some old cartoon I seen on cable."
The sharpshooter yawned and eased from the car. "Here, lemme help ya up," Vin started, then backpedaled when the General glared at him. The color was different, but there was no mistaking that laser beam. And Vin was looking forward to dinner when he'd see Chris again. His flight was due in later that day.
"Major Chelsea?" Adam braced himself against the door and eased his lean body up, then hopped once, settling into the wheelchair the duty officer held next to the car. He pushed a lever on the arm and the motorized chair zipped across to the elevator.
"Waiting for you on S4, sir," the sentry by the elevator reported of the room several floors above, eyeing the young man behind the General.
"Tanner, you were told to expect him," Adam replied.
"Yes, sir..." The sentry moved, holding out a sleek black and silver board. "Right hand."
"Okay." Vin pressed his hand down and waited for a beep, then when the guard nodded, he removed it. He eyed his palm curiously while the guard, dressed all in black, pulled the black board from the silver frame and slid it into a monitor like a CD. Vin's head was turned, eyeing the guard's rifle, when a red light flashed on the monitor accompanied by a series of beeps.
"Class two violation," the sentry reported, eyeing the general.
"What the hell does that mean?" Vin demanded, trying to see past the guard.
"This man's wanted for murder." The guard ignored Vin and kept his eyes trained on the commanding officer.
"Murder?" Vin repelled. "That can't be right..."
"In Texas, a farmer named Kinkaide..."
"He's with me," Adam answered the question in the guard's eyes, "and we're proceeding."
"Sir, you know the rules... I can't let him enter the..."
"I wrote the fuckin' rules!" Adam bellowed, nearly incinerating the guard with one stare, "Long before you were born!"
"Then you'll understand why I can't allow him to go any further."
Neither soldier noticed that the man in question had backed away, clutching his head. The pictures appeared suddenly, roaring to life from a long dormant kiln. The name 'Kinkaide' unlocked the door to that inferno. Through the searing flames in his skull, he saw the movie play out.
A man in a barn, pacing and waiting. He walks towards the man, pausing briefly, his keen ears drawing his eyes above them. He glances at the empty loft overhead. The other man pauses, turns and speaks.
"I have the information you want... look out!"
Pain explodes briefly in his skull. He falls, dazed and groggy. A hand on his shoulder, his gun is taken. A single shot causes his slitted eyes to open. Through a blurry field of vision, he watches boots walk past his face. The denim-clad legs pause by the dead body before placing a pipe in the lifeless fingers. He forces his own eyes to move. A sneer greets his pained gaze. Long light brown hair, blue eyes, jeans and worn boots and a buckskin jacket. A man of his own height and coloring, wearing clothes like his. Their eyes meet - the hunter meets the hunted.
Eli Joe.
The man he was chasing...a felon wanted in several states. Money. Bounty. Hunter. Pain. The chilling laughter gets louder. The murderer moves to the barn door, allowing the man's widow to catch a brief glimpse from across the field. Then he slips away, out the back and into Vin Tanner's worst nightmare.
The hunter became the hunted.
More images moved fast and furious through his searing brain. Headlines screaming 'MURDER', cruel insults and taunts about his profession. An enraged widow shrieking �he trusted you." Rocks and bottles pelting him as angry voices of friends and neighbors rained down.
"Vin?" Adam turned his chair around when he heard a thump. The young man was sitting on the ground, rocking slightly and clutching his head. "Vin!" He moved the chair closer, saw the tell-tale blue eyes darting back and forth, watching something from the past. He waved his hand in front of the large windows, but they didn't blink.
"Sir, I'll have to report..."
"Silence!" Adam snarled before turning back to the lost soul. "Son, can you hear me?" He laid a hand to the tense shoulder.
Vin hunched his shoulders as the pain intensified, the images coming faster than he could absorb. A jail cell, an overworked public defender, lots of papers with words difficult to understand. They swirled around the slim body on a cot in the cell like a funnel cloud. Then another face... older... wiser... intense eyes peering at him through spectacles. The words came, bringing hope to clear his name. Not just any name... Tanner.
They�d had such an impact, he was unaware he was repeating them out loud.
"...witness... migrant worker... hidin' in barn... framed... framed... free... clear your name... your name... Eli... Joe... murdered 'im..."
Vin blinked as the Texas judge's image faded and the real world returned. He slumped sideways, hitting the wheelchair and gasped, sweat pouring down his face. He felt a hand on his neck and tried to relax. His body was shaking badly and his breath was uneven and jagged.
"Don't just stand there with your balls in your hand, get a Goddamn medic!" Adam roared at the guard.
"No... sir..." Vin managed, taking several deep breaths. Finally, the rolling waves of pain subsided a bit and he pulled himself upright. He tapped the other man's arm, nodding once in gratitude.
"'M okay... jest a headache... it'll pass..." he hissed, rubbing his eyes. "Damn box openin' is gonna kill me or cure me."
"Are you sure?" Adam asked, not liking the lack of color in the young man's face.
"Yeah..." He turned, walking gingerly over to where the guard stood. "I ain't no murderer. I was framed by a bastard I was huntin' name o'Eli Joe. I told the judge m'story. He believed me and they found a witness. His testimony took care o' that mess."
"Son, you have a choice to make," Larabee said in a much more controlled voice, eyeing the guard. "You can hit the override key and release the lock on the elevator," he paused, taking a breath. "Or you can shove your ass on a gurney in the dispensary, get your malaria shots and prepare for a long flight," he warned of a transfer to a remote site in the jungle. "Are we clear now?"
The guard scowled and stiffened before turning towards Vin. Suddenly, he felt like he was on America's Most Wanted. There was no mistaking the intent of the brown eyes of the guard who stared at him. He squared his shoulders and stood tall, glaring right back. He heard Adam huff in annoyance and moved his arm out, silencing the older man.
"Ya got a real fancy rig there," he rasped, nodding to the monitor. "Like somethin' from the Sci-Fi Channel. But fer all the money ya coughed up t'install it," he moved closer, not intimidated by the six to eight inches the tall soldier had on him, "gettin' it t'beep and shoot out red lights..." he paused, "Ya fucked up. I ain't wanted fer murder no more. M'name was cleared. And since it ain't jest m'name yer fuckin' with, I want it fixed... now. Ya see my Pa gimme that name and his before him. Shed blood fer this country... I'm right proud o'it... every fuckin' letter. So yer gonna fix that blinkin' red light before I lose m'temper."
Vin didn't see Adam Larabee's broad smile or the way he sat up proudly in his wheelchair. His eyes were glued to the angry brown ones of the man who stood inches away from him. For several minutes, neither moved, not an inch. Then the sound of the phone ringing finally drew the guard away.
"Yes, sir..." the soldier nodded, then eyed the General before handing the phone over. "Major Chelsea, sir."
"Major?" Adam listened for a few moments. "Oh, I'd say we'll be up in about ten minutes. Is Captain Gaines available? Good," he nodded. "You have him meet us, stat... yes, STAT..." He eyed Vin Tanner's face, finally losing its angry red color. "He has some cleaning to do," he noted of the data processing division head. He handed the phone back and waited while the guard punched in a series of numbers and the door opened. "Vin..."
"It�s still flashin'..." he protested.
"It won't be for long, I've got my best man working on correcting that." He paused and held out his hand. "You have my word."
"Good enough," Vin nodded, took the hand and paused, his insides tingling. He gasped and his mind went back in time to a dark night on an airstrip in the mountains. He saw another set of eyes, clear and green, shining at him. The handsome blond's face was beaming as the lips curled into a shit-eating grin. The voice boomed back at him as if the body were right there. Snow swirled around the leader as he ran from the back of a black van. Then a strong hand clasped his forearm, the other clapping him on the back.
"Fuckin' A, Tanner! You nailed him!"
"Chris..." he whispered, blinked and saw the eyes that a moment ago were rimmed with pride, now filled with concern. "Sorry... these flashbacks is comin' fast 'n furious."
"That's okay, Vin." Adam moved inside the elevator. As the motor worked and they moved, he spoke again. He thought of that soldier who was left on a base in Texas to raise a boy alone.
"You wear it well, son, he'd be damn proud."
Chris watched Orrin's plane taxi out and eyed the television monitor. His own flight was delayed, not leaving for three more hours. He'd called his mother who had planned to leave work to pick him up and updated her. He'd called the office but got all voicemails, realizing that the team was most likely in the field. He knew they were working with Mike Ryan's group, another outstanding ATF Team. Sighing, he moved across the tiled floor of the gate area and into an overpriced coffee shop. It was empty and the kid behind the counter nodded to a seat.
"Whaddya need? I'll bring it..."
"Large coffee, black. A bagel sandwich... number three," Chris read the sign. "Thanks..."
He eased himself down, grateful the small shop had tables instead of booths. He rested the crutches and pulled his phone out. He punched the numbers and waited. "Thanks," he repeated when the coffee came.
"Sandwich will be right out."
He nodded at the youth who disappeared behind the counter. He was ready to hang up at five rings when a voice abruptly answered.
"What?"
"That's nice! I haul my aching ass to a small, uncomfortable chair, dragging my bad leg behind me, and I get that tone shouted at me?" Chris noted of the very annoyed growl.
"Well, hell, Chris, we were busy... takin' a shower."
"We?" Chris stopped squirming, now very interested. A slow smile began to form. "We, huh? You speaking about the boys or aren't you alone?" The chuffed breath gave him a lewd chuckle. "Oh... you all lathered up?"
"Half way..."
"Which half?"
"None of your fuckin' business!"
"Been there, Bucko," Larabee chuckled, recalling more than once when he and Sara were 'interrupted' by Adam crying. Then he grinned wider when a low, sultry female voice called out, promising punishment.
"You better be calling from a hospital bed or sitting next to that scrawny Texan lying in one!" Buck threatened.
"Why do you think I used the cell phone?" Chris sent back, nodding as the young man put the sandwich in front of him. He knew his old friend wouldn't let the cell ring.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Larabee asked in Tanner-like innocence.
"Dammit, Chris!" Buck exploded, shivering and shrinking.
"I'm at the airport. Orrin just left. He's gonna call a meeting tomorrow..."
"As fascinatin' as that is," Buck hissed, then groaned when Inez's image teased him through the shower curtain. She was soaping up... and down. "Jesus...!"
"No, he's shorter, darker hair, I'm guessing," the blond imp continued, then heard strange choking sounds. "Nathan called me."
That turned the rogue's eyes from the lovely, wet creature sauntering over to him. Just as her arms encircled his waist from behind and those wet globes of wonder pressed against his back, he tried to focus.
"Why didn't you call me, Buck?"
"I was going to... Nathan cornered me. That's the only reason... I... I..." Buck sucked air in and tensed up. "I'm gonna die... right here...!"
"Okay, Casanova," Chris laughed. "But we're gonna talk. Tomorrow afternoon, understood?"
"Yeah..."
"Give Inez..." Chris winced as the dial tone met his ear. "...my best."
"He's good."
Adam nodded, watching Robert Chelsea's eyes following the seamless efforts of the visitor. When they arrived at the rifle range tucked into the side of the mountain, it had been fairly busy. New trainees, having completed the initial phase of their development, were moving through phase two which was comprised of weapons proficiency, combat skills such as raids and ambushes, and survival techniques.
That quickly changed.
The recruit's eyes began to turn to see the newcomer, dressed in faded jeans and a pale green short sleeved shirt. Shoulder length wavy brown hair framed a handsome face and keen eyes. They watched curiously as he approached the weapons case. He carefully studied each rifle before he selected one.
"That ain't fer trackin' deers," Vin whispered, almost in awe. He picked up the black chromed beauty, running his fingers over the 'skin' in appreciation. "No, sir... one shot, one kill. Reckon it has half-a-minute accuracy. Seems t'be kin t' an M-40, but slicker," he noted of the weapon favored by the U.S. Marine snipers. "Sure is pretty..."
>From the gallery above the field, four guards stood, scoring the candidates. Three were as curious as the others, but one wasn't. Captain James Hardy had heard rumors, like the others, about the 'hero' who was staying with the Larabees. The fact he'd remained at the base instead of being deployed in the field for the last two missions didn't stomach well with him. Now he had to suffer through Larabee beaming at his 'fair-haired' boy, Vin Tanner. He'd looked the other man up and read his background which only made Hardy angrier.
"Jethro's a real smooth-talker," Hardy snickered. "I wonder if he's as good with women. Could be he's a real mountain boy, maybe he likes animals better."
"You have a good eye." Chelsea moved closer, watching the young man reverently caress the world class rifle. He knew, despite the lack of muscle movement, that Vin had heard the cruel words spoken. Leaning in, the dark-skinned man whispered, "How 'bout we shut that loud mouth of his?"
Vin found a small grin and eyed Adam's right hand man who'd given him the tour that morning. The General had had a morning meeting and met them at the rifle range afterward. Vin took the rifle to the end of the row, selected his ammo and gear, then approached the field.
Vin had enjoyed the tour he'd been a part of that morning. He'd soaked up every word spoken by the Major and absorbed all the images he'd seen. He'd itched to join in the brutal hand-to-hand combat drills, martial arts and rigorous underwater fighting. But his still healing body was not up to that. Now, on this mountain, with the trees as his sentries and the sky cradling him, he was home.
Slowly, the talking ceased. Recruits who were waiting or finished or in the process of qualifying, all paused. All eyes were fixed on the stranger who calmly felled the targets, moving and stationary, from 200, 300 and 500 meters.
"Damn!" Chelsea's voice rose and he saw Adam beaming next to him. "The kid's got a great eye. He's good... scary good."
"Of course he is," Adam bristled. "My boy said so, didn't he?"
"Impressive," Steve Smith, standing next to the still gloating Hardy, noted.
"Like lickin' butter offa knife," Vin sent back, glaring at the arrogant guard. Then he reloaded, drew the weapon up and scored a perfect strike at 800 meters.
"Looks like Goober got lucky. Probably all he gets."
"Captain!" Adam whipped around, moving his chair closer to the insulting officer.
"Naw, that's okay, sir." Vin moved closer, quietly studying the arrogant features on the man above him in the gallery. "How 'bout it, old-timer? Put yer money where yer mouth is?"
"Wagering is not permitted," Hardy managed, feeling the heat coming from both Adam Larabee and the blue-eyed pup who boldly challenged him.
"Ain't that a shame," Vin drawled. "Sure wouldda felt good, linin' m'pockets with yer greenbacks. Course, there I go puttin' the cart before the horse. Ya can count, can't ya? Or mebbe ya need t'take off yer shoes?"
"Okay, hot shot!" Hardy seethed, slightly red-faced as the men in the field were snickering. His annoyance grew at the unflappable young man who boldly addressed him. "Let's see how good you really are. Mike, get a Jeep. We're goin' to the Devil's Rain."
Vin looked perplexed for a moment, then Chelsea moved towards him.
"You don't have to do this, Vin. And don't worry, he'll be reprimanded. It's not the first time."
"Don't make a lick o'sense. Keepin' a rabid dog around."
"It does when his father is an Admiral and close friend of the President's."
"So what's this place... Devil's Rain?"
"It's about five miles from here. A very rugged area. It's where the highest rankers go to get qualified as Elite. Not many pass the drill. It's thickly wooded, rocky, very remote. There are both 'good' and 'bad' moving targets. Soldiers and enemy alike and hostages." He paused at the strange look on the young man's face. "Look, Vin, you've proven you're a world class sniper. Your scores are exceptional."
"Captain, you're on report. Taylor, take over. Dismissed," Adam ordered, but the insolent guard didn't move. "Hardy, I don't think you need to be reminded what another violation will do to your already shitty record."
"Yes, sir," Hardy spat out, whipping his body around to leave but not before glaring at the smug Texan. He didn't miss the blue lasers that shot right back at him.
"Ya didn't hafta..."
"You're not ready. Only the fittest and finest survive Devil's Rain. It's brutal... you'd never have made it halfway." He paused, seeing the turbulent gaze. "When you're ready, body and mind, if you want, then you can take that trial of fire, okay? Adam offered with his hand which was taken after the shaggy head nodded once.
"Sir, it's nearly one," Chelsea reported.
"Okay, Bob. You take Vin back to the barracks. After Miles checks him out..."
"Who?" Vin interrupted the general, squinting painfully and limping towards the jeep. He yawned and rubbed his heavy eyes as he climbed into the back seat. His eyes slid shut, as the strong voice replied.
"The doctor who runs the medical center here. It's my leg that's affected, not my eyes," he challenged of the overworked healing body that housed burning eyes. "Then you get some chow and hit the sack. I've got an important meeting this afternoon. Then we'll meet Kate and Chris for dinner." He paused then, using the door frame of the car to stand, then eased himself into the passenger's seat. "Vin?"
"He earned it," the black man noted with a smile, nodding to the slumbering body in the back seat.
"That he did, Bob," Adam agreed, his mind already preparing for one of the most important decisions of his life.
It was almost four p.m. when Adam and Robert arrived back at the barracks. They paused by the bed, watching the relaxed features below. After being checked out by the medics on duty, taking a hot shower and consuming a large lunch, the tired man welcomed the empty bed.
"He looks like he should be out finding a prom date," Chelsea noted of the youthful features. He saw Adam staring out the window, his face distressed. He knew how hard this afternoon had been. He waited by his old friend's side, adding support for what he knew was a difficult time. "Have you told Kate yet?"
"No, tonight, when we're alone. She's picking Chris up and we're meeting them for dinner. We're gonna celebrate." He turned back, wheeling across the room, one hand gently touching the wavy brown locks. "He deserves it."
Vin yawned and sat up, rubbing his heavy eyes. A dull headache still crept over most of his skull. He eyed the strange barracks and frowned, puzzled by where he was. Then a voice called out and the picture cleared.
"About time you woke up. How are you?"
"Okay." Vin yawned again and eyed the General sitting at a table across the long, empty room. The older man was involved with a pile of documents. He watched as they were put carefully into a folder and zipped into a leather case.
"Why didn't ya wake me up?"
"You needed the rest. If you want to freshen up, the latrine is that way," Adam nodded to a door at the end.
"Thanks."
Vin stood, stretched, winced and shuffled to the bathroom. When he returned, Major Chelsea was standing next to the General. They were talking quietly and Vin lingered in the middle of the room, not wanting to interrupt them. Then Chelsea saw him and smiled.
"You feeling better?"
"He's fine!" Adam replied before Vin had a chance. Then he met the blues eyes and nodded to the door to their left. "Now get your ass in gear and into the car. I'm hungry."
"Yes, sir!" Vin managed, saluting and gingerly walking over to them. He saw the General's hand come out and took it, wincing at the strength of the grip.
"You done good out there today, Vin Tanner!"
Vin nodded, unable to voice what he felt at the rich timbre of pride that rippled on every word. Then he saw the object in the older man's lap.
"What's that?"
"It's yours, you earned it." Adam handed the black leather bomber jacket over.
"OSOK," Vin read of the tiny letters inside the patch with the SAT logo over the spot where his heart would be. He slipped it on and eyed the Major curiously. "One Shot, One Kill," he noted of the letters.
"Perfect fit," Adam said. "Rare, too. Only been four given out in all the years I've been here."
"Yer shittin' me!" Vin blurted and saw the smile break on Robert Chelsea's face just before he began to speak.
"We've had some world class snipers train here, Vin. Many earned top scores. But it's rare to hit a perfect score. You did that today. You nailed it."
"You're looking at one," Larabee continued, nodding to the Major. "Best I taught. One of the best I laid eyes on, until today."
"I don't..." Vin began, overwhelmed by the gift. He knew the comment was for much more than the jacket. Adam Larabee had given him his heart back. Where dark clouds of uncertainty once hung low, obscuring his vision, now there were clearing skies. For a moment, the General disappeared and the father returned. That was who Vin needed to see. "Thank you..."
"Hmpph!" Adam squirmed, the emotive blue eyes undoing him. "Why isn't your Tanner ass moving to the car? I'm starving!"
"Yes, sir!" Vin saluted, then moved toward the door. He paused, eyeing the late afternoon sky. The colors rippled though him; he inhaled the sweet air and smiled. Suddenly, the horizon wasn't as dark anymore.
There was something very special about the majesty that crowned the Rocky Mountains. He never got tired of coming here. He paused inside Chris's barn and eyed the men tending to the horses. Chris's neighbor was a horse breeder and his two teenage sons were often called upon when they were out of town to tend to the four horses Larabee owned. He gave Caesar's fine mane a pat and left the barn, pausing to eye the trail that led from the ranch house to the woods and the river beyond.
As he walked, he thought on the first time Chris brought him here. There was something about the catch in his voice when he spoke of how much he needed this land. He'd been raised his whole life near mountains and the peace that came with them. How many times had the team used this house to regroup? More often than not, when one or more of them were injured, it was here they came to recover. Peace? Yeah, it had that and a lot more.
He paused by the river, his dark blue eyes scanning the rushing water. He sighed heavily, rubbing his shoulder and missing the camaraderie that came from working with his brothers. Whether it was in the office, in the field, at a bar or sports stadium or here at Larabee's retreat, that laughter was the glue that held them together.
Would that change?
"Go to him."
He half turned as the soft voice of the woman he loved floated through the aspens. She walked towards him, clad in denim pants and a white shirt. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. God, she was beautiful!
"You need him," Inez continued, taking Buck's free hand and walking with him along the river.
"I know," he admitted, eyeing the glory of Mother Nature's bounty spread around him. "I thought, maybe coming here..."
"Tomorrow, you will talk to him. You will tell him you are coming. You tell him... and you listen. Then you follow this." She tapped his chest, reaching under the blue shirt. Her slim fingers caressed the warm bronzed skin over his heart. "Okay?"
He wrapped his free arm around her and drew her close. He kissed her long and slow, letting his fingers dance along the small line of warm flesh that peeked out from the small of her back. Finally, they broke apart. She snuggled against him and he kissed the top of her head.
"I love you, lady...."
"Talk is cheap," she teased, patting his backside. "Put your money where your mouth is, cowboy!"
He chuckled softly, so grateful that he'd finally found her. As he held her and listened to the creatures of the mountain, his blue eyes once again went to the horizon. He scanned slowly, wondering what was on that road.
"Why we stoppin'?" Vin yawned, content to doze in the back seat. The rich leather and smooth motion of the black car had lulled him to sleep.
"We're picking up a passenger," Adam supplied. "You mind, Vin? With the crutches and all...?"
"Huh?" Vin blinked and realized the older man needed him to get out and find someone. "Oh, sure. Who we fetchin'?"
"I think you may recognize him," Adam smiled as the car pulled up beside a small stone building.
"Tully's Tavern, 1740," Vin read the colonial lettering, then saw the cannon outside. "That right?"
"It is," the general noted. "The cannon dates back to the revolution. Go on inside. I'll be there in a minute."
Vin eased his weary frame from the car, pausing to thank the young man from the center who drove them. He zipped up his new jacket, slipped his shades on and ambled over towards the old tavern. He paused by the cannon, examining it carefully, before ducking inside the door.
Aside from the television over the bar, little had changed since muskets fired outside and blue met gray. It was a man's bar, a place to drink and brag. He was reading the sign by the bar that described a nearby battle when a voice called out.
"Hey, cowboy, get your ass over here. I'm thirsty."
"Chris!" Vin exuded, walking over to the rough hewn pine table. He paused several feet away and shoved his chest out.
"Implants?" Chris grinned at the teeth-baring smile the younger man tossed at him.
"Wiseass!" Vin sent back. "Like it?" He took his glasses off and moved a bit closer.
"Never saw one on a long-haired river rat..." he offered with his hand, pride shining from his green eyes.
"Texas variety!" Vin chased back, taking the forearm and locking on. "Ain't it sumthin'? I can't hardly believe it. The general said they only gave out four others. Four, in all these years. I done it, Chris. I wish ya coulda seen it. As soon as I picked up that rifle, a chill went up m'back. From the first shot, it felt good.... right... ya know?" He paused, catching his breath. "Then the General shook m'hand. I felt like a bunch o'firecrackers exploded inside. Imagine, all the soldiers that trained there..." He shook his head disbelievingly. "The Major, he said only the elite ever git inta that place. Four... that ain't many."
"Five," Chris corrected, bracing himself and standing so he could meet the excited sharpshooter's eye. "And 'elite' is just Ezrafied for 'the best'. And they don't come any finer than Captain Paul's baby boy."
As the heat rose on his face coupled with a rush of color, Vin's head dropped. He felt Chris's hand on his neck; the firm tug took what air the heartfelt words didn't. He struggled. His chest constricted and he fought for control of his ragged emotions. His fingers moved to trace the lettering on the jacket.
"You're not gonna cry are you, Tanner?" Chris teased, winking at his father who was approaching. "The Larabees go way back, we got a reputation here to uphold. Crying cowboys in these parts could ruin us."
"Shut... up..." Vin stammered. "I ain't... cryin'..."
"Yeah, you are!" Chris challenged, ducking his head and trying to find those blue eyes that were fighting. "Yup... wet..."
"Quit pawin' me... leave me be..." Vin dodged, still shaken. "M'eyes needed dousin' is all."
"Why isn't there beer here?" Adam growled playfully. "Do I have to think of everything? Sit down!"
Vin dropped like a rock, so fast that Chris laughed so hard he began to cough. The Texan looked like a scolded dog. The blond took his seat, nodded to the barkeep and held up three fingers.
"Samuel Adams," he called over.
"Where's Kate?" Vin asked, taking a handful of pretzels from the dish in front of him.
"At McCluskey's, it's Monday," Adam sent back, taking a beer from the server.
"My mom and her friends go out on Monday night after work for happy hour. We'll meet them in about an hour. Randy, the bartender, gets off at six. He'll give us a lift," Chris noted, taking a swig of beer, then eyeing his father. "So how'd the kid do?"
"He kicked ass!" Adam bragged, causing Vin to sit up straight and find his dopey grin again. "Perfect score." He caught Vin's eye. "I know you were nervous, Vin, but you had to know. Now, whether or not your past remains murky, you know your future is clear. What I saw today, that comes from here," he tapped his chest. "Not from a book. You aced it. You're a natural, Vin, that's the difference. It's not just about the shot, it's the way it's done. I've been in this business for forty years, son, and I know the real thing. I was damn proud of you today."
Vin thought for a moment, lingering on the swell of pride rising inside of him. He eyed both Larabees, absorbing every bit of unparalleled dignity that shone from their eyes. One set as dark as night, the other as light as day, but equal in integrity. It was as the general said; that doesn't come from a book. You're born with it. He sipped his beer and caught the lettering on his jacket.
"Reckon them other four fellers was pretty good," the blue-eyed devil noted cockily, raising his bottle, eyes twinkling in mischief. "But they weren't Tanners."
"Damn straight!" Adam agreed, enjoying the adrenaline still pumping from the blue-eyed sharpshooter.
"Mess with the best�." Chris held his bottle over and waited, watching Vin's drunken grin form.
"Die like the rest!" Vin touted with a wicked grin, tapping the bottle and drinking in the warmth.
McCluskey's was crowded for a Monday night. Normally, they didn't get so many customers. It wasn't fancy, but it was clean and the service was great. It had the weather-beaten look of a New England lighthouse. The atmosphere spilled inside with the pale gray walls accented by fishing nets holding shells and starfish. Other nautical items lined the walls along with grainy black and white photos of fisherman from days gone by.
"Anything else, ladies?"
"You free, honey?"
"No, ma'am." The all-of-eighteen year old waiter flushed as the six women, all old enough to be his mother, some his grandmother, smirked and laughed.
"No, we're good, Tim," Kate reassured the waiter.
"Well, girls," Meg Trouper, a gregarious brunette announced eyeing the door, "looks like my dates are here. Damn... that's an eyeful!"
All the heads turned towards the door, every set of eyes devouring the male eye candy. Kate just shook her head, smiled and paid the waiter.
"Gives a whole new meaning to 'blinded by the light', doesn't it?" Brenda Simpson, a very attractive African-American oozed. "You best leave this to a veteran, could be a looong night!"
"Good thing you wore clean underwear, Bren," Jennifer Smith teased.
"Underwear?" Brenda drawled, then smiled, giving the others a good laugh.
"You're awful," Kate stood up and waved, "and bold. To think I work with you, talking about my boys that way."
"Being the selfless soul that I am," Brenda announced, gathering her purse and rising along with the others, "I'll leave you that old-timer. Could be you two could have a nice dinner while I uh... baby-sit them boys of yours."
"I feel like a piece o'meat," Vin grumbled, watching the giggling group of females gawking at them.
"My mother's 'shy' friends from work," Chris paused, nodding to his mother. He moved so that his father could get past, the crutches forcing the general to move slowly towards the group. He shifted his weight on his own crutches, then turned to the lingering male. "Don't worry, Vin, they don't bite." He moved a few feet, then paused. "Well, most of them don't."
"Hey, handsome!"
"You move pretty good for an old man."
"I'll bet you still have some 'moves'."
"Evening, ladies," Adam answered the calls of Kate's co-workers before being greeted by his wife.
"Hello, sweetheart." She kissed his cheek and motioned to a clean table by the window. "Go on and get settled." She caught his eye a moment and saw his head nod once and a smile form.
"He kicked ass," Adam noted with pride of their young charge. "He got an OSOK. I damn near busted my buttons." He saw his wife slump in relief and made his way over to the table.
"Hey, Mom!" the handsome blond smiled and accepted her hug and kiss.
"Chris, you remember the girls?"
"Sure do," the blond head nodded. "Good to see you all. I'd ask for a dance but..." He lifted the crutches and grinned.
"Damn, boy, you get better lookin' every time I lay eyes on you." Brenda gave Chris a hug. She'd known Kate and Adam for almost thirty years now and remembered the fine boy this attractive man used to be.
"I always said you were the smart one," Chris tossed back with a wicked grin.
"Who's your shy friend?" Jennifer asked.
"Come on over here, child!" Brenda waved her arm at the reluctant young man still standing by the bar. "Let me get a good look. When you get to my age, lookin' goes a long way."
Vin eyed the group from across the room, nodding a bit when Chris grinned and jerked his head. It had been such a good day. He felt so much better, having done so well at what he felt were true tests. Now they were meeting Kate for dinner, to relax and enjoy. That's what families did. He found his eyes moving to the small blonde woman who came over to him.
"I missed you all day!" Kate hugged him and took his arm. She paused, seeing a new light in his blue eyes. One she hadn't seen before. Confidence. Self-assurance. Balance. "I'm so proud of you..."
"Thanks," Vin smiled, took her arm and then saw the giggling women ogling him. �Aw, hell... feel nekkid..."
"Come on, they'll be gentle," Kate teased, leading him over.
"Howdy!" Vin managed, nodding to the group.
"This is Vin Tanner," Kate paused, introducing Vin to each of them. "This is my Vin..."
"Hmmm," Jennifer winked at the handsome young man. "The way Kate talked, I thought you'd be at least ten feet tall."
"Don't believe everythin' ya hear," Vin drawled, feeling his color rising.
"Every word is true!" Kate defended of her new boy, hugging him sideways, and smiled as Vin backed up a bit when Brenda approached.
"Lord, child, can you blush pretty!" she inspected carefully. "Them eyes of yours shine as pretty as new pennies." She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "We all prayed for you, while you were missing, and afterwards when you were so sick. But look at you now, standing tall and wearing that nice color. Good for you, boy."
"Thanks," Vin managed, shuffling uncomfortably. His eyes didn't miss Chris and Adam, grinning at him from the table.
"Come on, Brenda," Jennifer tugged on her arm. "Let's let Kate and her boys have dinner. See you tomorrow, Kate."
"Goodnight," Vin nodded. "Nice meetin' all o'ya."
"We come here on Mondays. They have free hot appetizers from four to five," Kate noted.
"Diet cokes all around, huh?" Vin eyed the empty glasses of what looked like wine.
"How are you?" she asked as they walked to the table. She studied his face and saw past the excited color. "You look tired. I told Adam not to push you too hard."
"I'm okay." He paused, giving her hand a squeeze. "But thanks. Sometimes havin' a Ma worryin' on'ya feels good, real warm inside, ya know?"
"I do!" She hugged him. "And I hope you always remember that."
"I feel like a big weight got took off m'back. I can't tell ya what it did fer me."
"You just did," she said, pausing at the table and raking the hair from his forehead. "And I never doubted it."
"The boy done good, Kate!" Adam lauded. "You should have seen him out there. I tell you, he's got eyes like an eagle. I've never seen such..." He paused, eyeing the shifting feet on the waiter nearby. "Something wrong with your feet, son? I don't see my beer!"
"Yes, sir... mean no, sir... I mean, yes, sir. Right away, sir!" Tim stammered and took off.
"He kicked some serious butt," Chris grinned, recalling the tale Vin told them earlier.
"I think Major Chelsea was half-tempted to ask him to join up," Adam stated.
Chris was spreading horseradish on oyster crackers and paused when he saw Vin's eyes nearly pop out. "What? Come on, Vin, you saw your scores." He paused to wink. "You're that good, cowboy."
"Chris's right, Vin. If you ever decide to leave the ATF, we'd take you," Adam guaranteed.
Chris nearly choked on the cracker he was chewing at the blank look of pure astonishment on Vin's face. He poured each of them a glass of water from the pewter pitcher the waiter left before leaving to get the drink orders.
"Sorry, Dad," Chris denied with a grin, handing his father a glass of water. "Tanner's scrawny butt is taken."
"Wouldn't be nuthin' without all o�ya." Vin eyed the strong green gaze. "I did some thinkin' on the way over here. Could be I might never remember my past. But with yer help, even if it means goin' back t'school and gettin' recertified, I know I can do it now."
"Of course you can!" Adam growled. "My son only works with the best. I taught him that. Dammit, where the hell is my beer?"
"Adam!"
"Sorry, Kate," he chuffed, eyeing the bar.
Dinner was delicious, from the appetizer sampler through New England chowder, sourdough rolls and three seafood combos. The 'landlubber' from Texas went for beef.
"I ain't much fer water critters," Vin announced, opting instead for steak.
It was during the coffee and dessert that Kate saw the exhaustion on his face. Then something else appeared in the blue eyes. The King Neptune Delight, a trio of brownies covered with ice cream, caramel and hot fudge, nuts and whipped cream was long gone. But the contented cow was in pain and not from overeating. Her own eyes slid past her husband's apple walnut cake and over the lifted rim of his coffee cup.
"Now, Kate..." Adam started, recognizing the green fire in her eyes.
"Don't you 'now Kate' me, Adam Jamison Larabee!"
"Uh-oh," Chris whispered, elbowing Vin. "This isn't good, not when she uses all three names..."
"Best we git the check and git home," Vin decided, needing his medications and his bed.
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