Disclaimers:  ATF universe was created by MOG (thank you), The mag7 belong to Mirish, MGM, Trilogy and all those big names. No profit being made here.

Thank you: to my betas Kris and NotTasha for helping me out and to Jest for the constant encouragment.

Comments: The general plot of this is loosely based on some real life events, but THIS IS FICTION.  The original characters were made up by me, as were their names, etc.
 
 

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The tall lean figure stood in the shadowed alley between two buildings, unseen and unnoticed in the early Denver hours.  Those passing by were too intent on getting to work on time and avoiding the usual Monday morning delays.

The sun broke through the clouds and the man looked up a moment. Maybe the unusually cold late summer morning would turn into a pleasant day after all.  Dirty fingers scratched his bearded face.  ‘Damn spirit gum.’ He thought bitterly.  He hated using the stuff but going without a disguise on his missions was no longer a viable option.  After all he’d managed to stay well hidden for almost four years now.

He glanced at his watch quickly then allowed his brown eyes to scan the area one last time.  Employees were just beginning to pull into the parking lot across the street.  The timing would be perfect.  He was unable to suppress a smile as he turned and casually walked back through the littered alley.  It’s been a long time since he’d dared to continue his campaign but now he could feel the time was right. The poor bastards looking for him were still back where he’d left them, chasing their own tails, like the stupid dogs that they were.

He crawled into the cab of his pickup truck and settled behind the wheel. He ran a finger lightly over the small remote in his hand and held his breath as he depressed the appropriate button.   The explosion rocked the area and the man laughed lightly enjoying the surge of adrenaline and excitement as the truck bounced in place.  “Perfection.” He whispered as he started the vehicle.  Nothing would stop him this time around.

_______________________________________________________________________

The Magnificent Seven ATF office was buzzing.  Literally buzzing.

“Buck, if you don’t turn that damn thing off, I’m gonna…” Chris threatened his oldest friend.

Buck grinned easily not at all intimidated by the threat.  He reached for the offending toy. “Sorry Chris, it’s not suppose to do this.”

“Well, you better make haste in fixing it or I’ll join Mr. Larabee in your demise.” Ezra sipped at his coffee and frowned.  Mornings were bad enough but Mondays were intolerable.

“Honest Ezra, I don’t know what’s wrong with the thing.” Buck insisted trying not to laugh. As annoying as the buzzer was, the fact that it suddenly wouldn’t turn off was kind of funny.

“Where’d you get that thing anyway?” Vin asked, turning on his computer.

“It’s from JD’s Taboo game. You buzz it at people on the other team when they say the wrong thing.” Buck explained. “It’s suppose to only buzz when you hold the button down.”

“Sounds like a possessed razor.” Josiah said, coming out of the break room with his own mug of coffee.

Nathan was with him. “Have you tried not pressing the button?” He asked sarcastically.

JD laughed loudly, only realizing his mistake when all six men in the office turned to stare at him.

“JD?” Chris growled rubbing at his temples.

“What?” JD tried the innocent look but Buck and Chris both took a step closer. “Okay, all right,” he waved his hands in surrender and looked around, hurrying to explain. “I knew Buck would steal it and be buzzing us all day so I rigged the button.”

“So how do I turn the stupid thing off then?” Buck asked waving the still blaring green and pink object around.

JD rolled his eyes at the others and suppressed a smile.

“What?” Buck stepped forward again.

JD quickly scooted his chair back and rolled around the end of his and Buck’s desks, his path to the office door now clear. “You might try taking the batteries out.” He giggled.

Buck looked dumbfounded a moment before the obviousness of the solution hit him. Chagrined, he flipped the buzzer over, opened the back and popped the batteries. The buzzing ended abruptly.

“Thank you Mr. Dunne.” Ezra nodded at JD with a wink. Josiah and Nathan chuckled softly while Vin was laughing outright, trying to stay in his chair.

Chris even smiled.

Buck looked around at them all then zeroed in on the culprit.  JD was up and headed for the door in an instant.

A phone rang suddenly.

“Hey.” Chris’ voice stopped JD and Buck in their tracks. “Work first, revenge later.” He ordered reaching for the nearest phone.

JD and Buck exchanged grins and headed back to their desks. “When you least expect it Kid.” Buck whispered.

“I always expect it Buck.”

Chris snapped his fingers signaling for quiet and a pen and paper from Ezra.  Seriousness descended on the office immediately as the others noted his posture and tone as he listened and jotted information down. “We’ll be right there.” Chris dropped the receiver into its cradle and turned to the others.  “The Women’s Health Clinic on third was just bombed. Locals want us there ASAP, Team 4 is already on route with the van. We’ll take two bureau cars. Let’s go.”
 

The devastation to the small medical clinic was obvious to team seven, even as they parked their cars in the designated area several hundred yards from the crime scene.  The front half of the building was gone, allowing them to look into the guts of the structure.  The gentle morning breeze stirred loose medical files and scattered random papers across the asphalt.

Buck let out a low whistle to accompany a curse.

“How many people were in there?” JD asked quietly.  Wondering if he ever would get used to seeing the ravages of bombs.

“Initial call said there was one doctor killed as he was opening up the place.” Chris answered. “Several employees were injured, they were arriving for work.”

“How long ago was that?” Nathan asked.

“Half hour or so.” Chris checked his watch.

“Shall we proceed?” Ezra was getting restless just staring at the deformed building.   He noted that the ATF van was already there and other agents were moving about the scene, identifiable by their dark blue windbreakers with large yellow letters announcing them as ATF even from a distance.  He looked at his own jacket slung over his arm and shrugged out of his suit coat to put it on. As much as he hated it, he’d rather not ruin the expensive suit digging through rubble.

Together the seven moved forward, unconscious of the formidable sight they made walking in an almost straight line.  They’d made it less than half way to the scene when chaos exploded with a second bomb.

“Down!” Chris shouted the order as all seven scrambled for cover, arms over their heads in a frantic search for safety against the flying debris.  JD cried out as something struck his upper arm with enough force to knock him off his feet.

It was over in seconds.

“JD, are you okay?” Nathan scooted across the pavement to the youngest team member.

“Think so.” JD hissed through his teeth, his right hand clasped tightly over his bleeding left bicep.

Nathan pried Dunne’s fingers off the wound and checked it quickly.  “You got a jagged tear there.” He said pulling a roll of bandages from his jacket pocket.  Three years of working with this team had taught him to always be prepared.

“Everyone else okay?” Josiah asked watching Nathan rip open an antiseptic pad.

“Yeah.”

“Think so.”

“Yes.”

Everyone answered except Ezra.

“Ezra?” Josiah turned to the Southern agent who sat still and stunned a few feet from him.  A tell tale cut above his right temple immediately explained the dazed look and lack of response.

Chris was closest to the undercover agent and hurried to his side.  “Ezra, look at me.”

Ezra turned his head slowly toward his boss, struggling to focus.

“You’ll need to get checked out, Ezra.” He said calmly, seeing the confusion clearing in the light green eyes.

“I-I’m fine.” Ezra stared ahead at what was left of the clinic.  “T-the others.” He pointed, obviously frustrated with his fumbling speech but able to indicate the urgent need to help the more seriously wounded.
 

Two hours later the last ambulances were gone, the victims all accounted for.  JD’s arm had been repatched and temporarily bandaged until he could get to the hospital to get it stitched up.  Ezra had been looked over and though he needed a few stitches as well, the paramedics were more concerned about a possible mild concussion. Since the rest of the team was busy with clean up and the investigation Ezra was able to convince the EMT’s that he would “most assuredly” get checked out later.

 Somberly agents picked through the rubble, bagging evidence and marking the scene.  If the damage had effected them before, seeing three members of team four rushed away in critical condition from the second bomb fueled their rage to new levels.

“This was low.” Buck muttered as he bagged a twisted piece of shrapnel.  “Shrapnel and nails, what kind of a person…” His voice faded as he wrote the date and time on the bag.

“How’s it coming Mr. Wilmington?”

Buck looked up sharply at Ezra. “What are you doing here Ezra? Shouldn’t you be in the back of one of those rigs?” He stood slowly from his crouched position suppressing a groan as his knees protested the strain.

Ezra dismissed the question with a flippant wave.  “What have you got?” He asked, his eyes focusing on the evidence bag.

Buck handed it over. “More of what everybody else has, bunch of crap metal.”

Ezra nodded, then realizing his mistake squeezed his eyes closed to attempt to keep the ground from tilting.

“Hey.” Buck saw him sway and quickly grabbed his elbow. “You sure you shouldn’t be at the hospital?”

“Quite.” Ezra let out a slow breath to steady himself. “Please continue what you were telling me.”

“You gonna stay on your feet?”

“Yes.”

Buck shrugged at Ezra’s scowl but didn’t move away, just in case. “We’re still looking for the device, both of them actually.” He pointed to where the other agents were working. “Cordoned it off in a grid and we’re each taking an area.”

“Hey!” JD shouted from his spot. “Got one.”

“Whatcha got kid?” Vin was the first one to his side.

“Definitely one of the bombs.”  JD pointed to the twisted bundle of metal and tape. “See right there’s a directional plate.” Carefully he turned the device over.

“And there’s the remote.” Vin sighed rubbing his forearm across his eyes.

“You mean the guy waited until people were in place before he detonated?” JD couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.  He winced as the tear in his arm pulled and tried to mask his grimace, knowing full well that he probably failed miserably.

“Looks like it.” Chris said from behind him. Buck, Ezra, Josiah and Nathan had also joined them.

“Steve from team four found the second device.” Josiah said, exchanging a glance with Nathan and nodded slightly towards Buck as the taller man suddenly reached out and gently held on to Ezra’s arm, steadying him.

Nathan rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Time delayed?” Ezra asked though it was more of a statement then a question.

“Yeah.” Josiah’s eyes widened. “Did you talk to him already?”

“No, just a feeling.” Ezra shook his head then cursed gently as a wave of dizziness attacked.  Instantly he knew he wasn’t going to win the latest round and succumbed to the darkness.

“Buck!” Nathan shouted a warning but Buck had seen it coming and was able to catch Ezra as he crumbled. “I knew he should have gone in to the ER.” Nathan knelt beside the southerner and checked his vitals quickly.

“We need to call another ambulance?” Chris asked as he helped JD bag the first bomb.

“Naw,” Nathan waved away the concerned look. “Probably a mild concussion. He needs to go in but there’s no need for sirens.”

“JD still needs to go in too.” Buck pointed out.

JD scowled. “I’m fine.” He insisted even though his arm was killing him.

“Sure you are.” Nathan said calmly. “Just like Ezra here.”

“What about me?” Ezra stirred and groaned, squinting through watery eyes at the others.

“You’re a stubborn pain in the…”

“Let’s just get these two in and get back to the office and the case.” Chris cut Nathan’s tirade off with a grin as he turned to help Buck get Ezra to his feet.

“You want me to carry you?” Buck teased.

“Certainly not” Ezra tried to straighten and steady himself.

Nathan laughed adding, “Well do you NEED him to carry you then?”

Ezra sighed, “I am quite capable of maneuvering to the car on my own.  I hope.” He added the latter under his breath.  Despite his adamant statement he did allow the others to assist him.

   It was late afternoon before everyone finally made it back to the office.  Ezra was still slightly irritated that the hospital staff had insisted on observing him for a couple of hours but at the same time thankful he hadn’t been admitted.

JD, who had been released immediately after treatment, sat at his desk staring at his computer screen as if it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe.  Chris was on the phone, while Buck, Nathan and Josiah were at their desks already deep in the process of accessing information for the case.  The first task being to pull up records of similar types of bombings.
 

“Any lab reports coming in yet?” Vin asked.

“Some.” JD answered. “Preliminary ones anyway. You all right Ezra?”

Ezra smiled. “I am perfectly fine.” He insisted.

The others merely looked at Vin for the truth. “He’s got a slight concussion but the Doc gave him pain killers and said to watch him. We see him acting any more confused than normal,” Vin glanced at Ezra with a mischievous grin, “we need to take him back in.”

“I am not returning to that establishment.” Ezra stated firmly as he attacked his keyboard, grateful that at least the blurry vision had cleared up.

There was something disturbing about the morning’s bombing, besides the obvious.  An alarm was blaring violently in his head that he was positive had nothing whatsoever to do with his injury.  Lightly he touched the bandage and frowned.

“Bothering you?”

Ezra looked up in surprise at Chris standing beside him, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Not this.” Ezra answered pulling his hand away from his head. “This.” He pointed to the print outs on his desk that everyone had received.  A compilation if the information they had gathered so far.

Chris’ brow furrowed momentarily. “What about it?”

Ezra shrugged and realized the others were listening now too.  “There’s just a familiarity to it that I’m not recognizing right now, and I should be.” He admitted with frustration.

“I’m surprised you can remember your name right now.” Nathan told him. “You took a good hit.”

Ezra nodded slightly. “Still this is an important connection, I can sense it.”

“Well, take it easy and it’ll come to you.” Nathan reassured.

“Just let us know as soon as it does.” Chris said then added in a louder voice. “Just got an update on team four.  Everybody is going to make it.”

“Praise be.” Josiah sighted with genuine relief.

“Connor’s leg was pretty tore up.” Chris continued. “Probably won’t be able to return to the field.”

“Ever?” JD asked.

Chris just shook his head. “Desk duty maybe, research, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.”

Vin nodded thinking of his own history of injuries. At least so far, he’d always been able to return to work.

The office was quiet a moment, all the men dwelling on the one real fear of having to leave the agency, before a phone rang in Chris’ office and brought them all back in focus. Chris picked up the call at Ezra’s desk, hanging up after only a few minutes.

“It’s official, the case is ours.” He told them.  “Team four was moved to a current arson. Let’s meet in the conference room in 15.  Bring everything you got so far. JD, call the lab and get updated reports. I know they won’t have much yet but I want whatever they do have.”

“Got it.”

When the information was all gathered and the seven settled around the long conference table, it became evident quickly that there wasn’t much yet to work with.

JD went over what he had scrapped up.  “The lab basically confirms what we already know.” He looked up, distracted as Buck ran a hand over his mustache, then continued. “Both bombs were constructed primarily of duct tape, shrapnel and what they think are a brand of roofing nails.  They’re checking for a brand name on the tape and nails.”

“They have anything definitive about the shrapnel?” Chris asked.

“Not yet.”

“Okay, Buck?” Chris looked at Buck to continue with his part of the report.

“First bomb was set off with a simple remote. Our guy had to have been within a mile to detonate. Second bomb was on a timer. Techs estimate it was set to go off between 30 and 40 minutes after the first one.  Both bombs had obvious directional plates.”

“I still don’t see what the point of the second bomb was.” JD admitted, tapping his pen in an irregular beat on the glossy surface of the table.

Everyone looked at Josiah then, who smiled and shook his head as he flipped open a file folder in front of him.  “Seeing as no one has claimed responsibility yet we don’t know much yet.” His low voice filled the room.  “I’m guessing our suspect is a white male, between 30 and 50 years of age.  The target being a women’s clinic lends me to think he’s far right winged on the political scale, then again, instead of being a political statement against abortion he could just have set us up to think that’s his motive.”

“If he wanted to be political, couldn’t he just have bombed the place when it was empty?” Vin asked quietly.

Josiah nodded. “That’s what I would think. This suspect deliberately set the bombs to kill and injure though.  He waited for the workers to show up this morning before he detonated the first bomb and I have very little doubt that the second bomb was aimed at us.”

“Us?” Buck asked sharply.

“Not us,” Josiah gestured to indicate them, “specifically, but the rescue crews, police and ATF in general, yes.”

“Dear Lord.” Ezra rubbed two hands over his face.

“Ezra?” Nathan asked.

Ezra shook his head. “This is sounding more familiar with each infernal detail and yet I just cannot place it.”

Chris looked at his watch; surprised it was already past six.  “Why don’t we call it a day and start early tomorrow. JD and Ezra need to take it easy anyway.  We’ll most likely be back out at the site tomorrow so dress for it.” He reminded as they packed up their files.
 

Grimly, Chris smiled as he watched Ezra doze off in the plush armchair he now occupied.  File folders littered the carpet around the chair and one lay open across the southerner’s lap, precariously close to sliding off.

It had taken several moments of “friendly” persuasion after the decision to send everyone home, to convince Ezra that he wouldn’t be returning to his condo alone.  Eventually the undercover agent had relented, particularly after Chris threatened to send him home with Buck and JD. Chris hadn’t wanted to drive all the way home to his ranch after such a stressful day either and since he always kept a packed bag in his Ram for just such an occasion, it had worked out all around.

He shifted slightly and flicked through several channels on Ezra’s muted TV before settling on the local channel’s late night news.  He’d turned on the closed captioning and now sat sipping a cup of gourmet coffee while staring at the bombing coverage.  Chris felt a wave of fury directed at the pristine looking newscaster.  He was thankful he couldn’t hear what he assumed was a sickening smooth voice read the work of some grunt journalist off the teleprompter. He couldn’t push back the sudden memory of microphones being pushed into his face after the bomb that killed his family, the stupidity of the “How do you feel” question and the rage he felt towards the person asking it.

“You can turn that up if you wish.”

Chris turned to look at Ezra. “No need. He’s not saying anything interesting, or true for that matter.  Ever wonder if these guys just make up a story to go with the pictures?” He focused on his own sarcasm to escape the pain in his heart.

Ezra chuckled softly, pretending to be unaware of Chris’ personal battle, as he closed the file on his lap and tossed it onto the floor. “Many times.” His head still throbbed but to his relief the intensity had lessened somewhat.

“You heading to bed soon?” Chris asked leaning forward and stacking up the left over food containers from a nearby Chinese restaurant.  When Ezra didn’t answer, he looked at him.  The Southerner sat with his head resting on the back of the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Ezra?”

“Probably.” Ezra sighed heavily.

“You aren’t still fretting over this case are you?” Chris asked as he carried the garbage into the kitchen. He tossed the take out boxes into the trash and quickly rinsed his hands.

“I’m not sure ‘fretting’ is the word I would use.” Ezra replied.

Chris smiled and skimmed the instructions on Ezra’s prescription bottle. “No one normally uses the words you would.” He told him, filling a glass with water.

Ezra made a sarcastic face when Chris entered the living room again and handed him the water and medicine. “Thank you.”

“Go to bed and let it go.” Chris implied the order behind his words.  “Whatever’s bothering you will come to the surface soon enough, I’m sure.”

“We can always hope.” Ezra rose from his chair and moved toward his room, careful to hide any signs of the nausea he felt. “Good night then.” He paused when he reached the door and looked back at Chris, who was turning the living room lights off. “Thank you again, Chris.”

Chris paused a second, taken aback slightly by the level of sincerity in Ezra’s tone, before responding. “No problem Ezra, get some rest.”

 Ezra dreamed of fireworks.  Red, white and blue explosions that rained nails and metal while accompanied by a full piece orchestra.  He stood back and watched as the instrumentalists sat calmly attentive to their music oblivious to the panic and chaos of a crowd of people madly trying to escape the carnage.  Ezra frowned. The dream fragments were oddly familiar.  The music swelled above the continuing explosions and screams and he closed his eyes to concentrate on the arrangement.  Suddenly the dream changed to memories.  Clearer pictures of actual events he knew he had witnessed in person.  The red, white and blue changed into the flashing lights of emergency response vehicles.  The music was the Olympic anthem.

“Atlanta.” Ezra realized he was awake when he heard himself speak. “John Michael Clark.”  As soon as the name was spoken, all the connections he’d been struggling to make fell rapidly into place. Quickly he jumped out of bed and pulled a pair of silk pajama pants on over his designer boxers.  He ignored his slight dizziness as he easily moved down the darkened hallway and into the tiny room he’d turned into a study.  A glorified closet; his desk, a bookshelf and a small filing cabinet were all that fit into the space.  He flipped the light on and squinted against the sudden brightness as he sat down in the padded office chair and turned on the computer.

Long, graceful fingers skimmed through a box of computer disks until he found the one he was looking for and popped it into the PC’s disk drive. Ezra drummed his fingers on the desktop anxiously, while the other hand guided the mouse, clicking the appropriate icons and pulling up the file he wanted.

“Ezra? What are you doing up?”

Ezra looked up, slightly startled, at Chris. He’d forgotten Larabee was staying in the guestroom.

Chris leaned tiredly against the doorjamb. He ran one hand through his spiked blond hair while the other adjusted the waistband of his sweatpants.

“John Michael Clark.” Ezra answered simply.

“Who?” Chris looked confused.

“The case.” Ezra pointed to the monitor. “The similarities I was seeing but couldn’t remember.  They finally came together. I think our bomber might be John Michael Clark.”

“The Olympic bomber?” Chris moved into the room then, suddenly very awake considering that it was four in the morning. “They’ve been searching the North Carolina woods for him for years now.”

Ezra nodded. “I was still in Atlanta when the bombings occurred. Not assigned to the case, of course.” A hint of bitterness colored his tone. “But I kept track of things and gathered some information on my own.” He indicated the screen.

“How’d you get all this?” Chris looked from the confidentially marked information to his undercover agent.

“Let’s just say when they weren’t making my life a living hell, no one in the FBI was paying much attention to me.”

“That was stupid…” Chris grinned sardonically and skimmed the page on the screen.  “Damn.  His signature matches our bomber exact. Roofing nails, duct tape, directional plate, even the delayed second bomb.”

Ezra sat back, thinking. “There’s been no ‘Army of Justice’ letter claiming responsibility though.”

“No but the letters were always questioned for their validity. Lots of experts thought he was just B S’ing.” Chris stood up straight. “Can you print all this out for us?”

“Of course.” Ezra entered the commands.

“If we’re looking for Clark, the FBI are going to step in.” Chris admitted out loud.

“Southeastern Bomb Task Force.” Ezra said. “Think they’ll work with us?”

“They better.” Chris looked at the papers printing out and picked up the top one. A black and white photo of Clark stared back at him. “What brings you out west Clark?” His voice soft but threatening. “Why’d you come out of hiding now?”

 
John Michael Clark stared at his slightly blurred reflection in the hotel’s warped mirror and sighed heavily.  He ran a hand over his face and wondered if he’d ever recognize his image again.  His beard was full now, and neatly trimmed to avoid drawing unwanted attention.  His light brown hair was now almost black, leaving his normally tanned skin looking pale even on his healthiest days.

At least his eyes were familiar.  He’d tried tinted contacts once.  Before Birmingham and the escape into the mountains, but life as a survivalist didn’t lend itself to dealing regularly with rudiments of contacts.  He figured his brown eyes were normal and ordinary enough to not call attention to him anymore than anything else might.

Shaking his head, John smiled and turned back to the main part of the hotel room.  He sank down on the edge of the double bed and checked the device one more time to assure him it was perfect.  A normal fugitive would have stayed hidden he supposed. Then again, he’d never been one for normalcy.  He’d spent over a year holed up in North Carolina, laughing silently as he watched the Feds bring in expert after expert to search for him.  They were still looking.

Laughing out loud now, Clark packed his current creations into a simple duffel bag and cleaned up the slight mess he’d made putting them together.  He knew he was tempting fate by starting his campaign again but his name had been out of the news for too long now.  He missed the rush of adrenaline that accompanied each mission.  He missed the sensations he felt every time he heard his name spoken on air or saw it in print.  Let the Feds theorize about his motives, let them think he was fighting in the ‘Army of Justice.’

“God they’ll believe anything.” He thought. Truth was, he just enjoyed the game.  He loved the hunt, the thrill of knowing he was always one step ahead of the hunters, constantly changing the rules of the game.

Picking up the week old Denver paper, Clark read the headline for the hundredth time  “ATF’s Magnificent 7 Honored at Fund Raiser.”  He couldn’t help but scoff as he skimmed the article he’d already committed to memory.  He didn’t put much stock into newspaper reports, especially since anything he’d read about himself usually still had him back east. This article, however, had peeked his curiosity. Clark wanted to see for himself how good this ATF team really was.

The picture that accompanied the article was of the team’s leader accepting the mentioned honor, shaking hands with some bureaucrat. Clark studied the grainy color photo, carefully sizing up the man.  Chris Larabee seemed to tower over the man he was shaking hands with.  He looked uncomfortable in front of the cameras and though he had smiled for the photographer’s sake, Clark could see clearly the seriousness that drove the man.  There was something behind Larabee’s eyes that warned Clark and reminded him.  Though the game was fun, it was real and complicated.  This adversary would present a true challenge.

John Michael smiled and tossed the paper aside, wondering if his name had even come up yet in the 24-hour-old investigation.  “Let’s get on with the game, Agent Larabee.” He said as he carefully slung his bag over his shoulder. “Time for round two.”
 

Team Seven stood stoically behind the yellow tape and protective barrier as they watched the bomb squad secure the burned out and still smoking church building.  Two men in full protective gear were slowly moving towards the area where a second bomb had been found.

“I can’t believe he bombed a church.” JD muttered shaking his head in disgust.

“Kind of shoots a hole in the ‘religious right’ theory doesn’t it?” Buck looked at Josiah for an answer.

Josiah shrugged slowly, “this church was in the news this week for it’s controversial stand on some liberal ideas.  Could have made it a target, or…”

“Or he’s jerking us around.” Vin filled in.

Josiah laughed lightly. “Or that.”

Chris and Ezra exchanged a look that Vin noticed. “What are you two up to?” He asked.

“We have a theory on our suspect.” Chris answered.

“Just a theory?” Nathan asked.  His attention was focused on the bomb squad but he was obviously listening to the conversation around him.

“Pretty strong one.” Chris motioned to Ezra, who merely said the suspect’s name.

“John Michael Clark.”

For a moment there were only the sounds of the site around them, the five other team members all turning to stare at Chris and Ezra.

“Can you repeat that?” Buck finally asked.

Ezra obliged.

“That’s what I thought you said.” Buck looked from Ezra to Chris. “You’re serious?”

Chris nodded. “Ezra and I have been up since 4 going over information on Clark. Only details that don’t match up…” Chris motioned towards the destroyed building, “is the acceleration of the bombings and the target being a church.”

“So we could be dealing with a copy cat?” Nathan asked hopefully.

Josiah shook his head. “Not likely, though anything is possible. Where’d you get info on Clark?” He looked at Ezra.

Ezra smiled innocently at first but then turned serious. “By the time of the bombings in Atlanta, I’d pretty much been reduced to research and grunge work.” He admitted heavily.

“Did you do your own profile on him?” Josiah knew how detailed Ezra tended to be when preparing his information for undercover work.

Chris held up the expandable file he’d been holding under one arm.

“Hey, they’re waving us all clear.” JD pointed out.

“This means the FBI will be taking over?” Vin’s question was more of a statement.

Chris nodded.  “We’ll be asked to assist.” He watched the team suppress a collective groan as they moved toward the site.  He had absolute faith in his team’s ability.  For as diverse a collection of personalities as they had, working together they were the best, but for as good as they could be… Chris knew, his team did not fall back and ‘assist’ well.
 

Ezra muttered to himself about filth and looked at his gloved hand with a frown.  He was pathetically filthy, his head was pounding and unfortunately he was tired of searching the charred ground for bomb remains.  The blast, like the others had been concentrated on the church’s entryway.  With Team four pulled off the case that left team seven with more of the menial labor than normal.  Ezra grimaced, thinking of Clark laying in wait for the church secretary and her husband to show up before he detonated the bomb.  If there was anything to be thankful for it was that it wasn’t Sunday morning.   Carefully he finished bagging another twisted nail and labeled the bag, looking up in time to see Nathan heading towards him.

“Ezra.” Nathan called out as he approached.

“Have you come to relieve me of this distasteful task Mr. Jackson?” Ezra stretched and forced himself not to rub his aching temple.

Nathan smiled genuinely and nodded. “We need to meet, the FBI arrived.”

“Joy.”

Nathan chuckled at the sarcasm, knowing Ezra’s history with the rival organization was filled with more disappointments and betrayals than Ezra would ever admit.  Together the men headed towards the area that’s been set up for meetings and breaks.  Ezra turned in the latest bag of evidence and grabbed a bottle of water as he walked by the table covered with soft drinks, coffee and a few bottles of juice.   Nathan watched him closely, searching for signs of how the Southerner was feeling. It was like pulling teeth to get more than ‘I’m fine’ from any of the men he worked with and there were days he wondered why he bothered to worry about their health since they certainly didn’t.  Ezra took a long drink and met Nathan’s eyes over the water bottle, letting him know with a look that he was well aware of the former medic’s scrutiny.  Nathan merely shrugged and turned to the heated discussion already underway.

“You’re the one who called us in here.” An angry FBI agent was right up in Chris’ face.  “I want to know what makes you think YOU know Clark is involved.” The agent was obviously unaware of Chris’ reputation, daring even to stick a finger in Larabee’s face.  Chris for his part was keeping control of his anger but his teammates could see that he was reaching the breaking point quickly.

“Back off Barnes.” An authoritative voice ordered.

Agent Barnes spun around suddenly. “But of all the ludicrous ideas…” Barnes stopped abruptly when he made eye contact with his superior.

The older man smiled knowingly and shook his head to the side, directing Barnes to get out of there.  Running a hand through his curly red hair the younger man scowled back at the ATF agents and hurried toward the site.  Once the belligerent agent was out of earshot, Chris looked at the new man and couldn’t suppress his relieved grin.

“Need to keep your men in line there Barham.” He reached out and took the extended hand. “One of these days they’re gonna tick off someone with less patience than me.”

Barham burst out laughing. “There’s not a snowball’s chance in Hades that you have ever had any patience Larabee.  I’m just glad I got here before you let loose on the boy.”

Chris feigned a look of shock then turned towards the team, watching with confused amusement.  “Agent Payton Barham.” He introduced quickly.   “We’ve worked together a few times.” He answered the unasked questions.  “ I figured they’d send in the southeast team.” He told Barham.

“Oh they’ll be here this afternoon. Flights are delayed by bad weather right now.” Barham explained, adjusting his FBI baseball cap more firmly onto his balding head.  “We’re here to start the preliminaries, get the rundown and make sure you guys aren’t just full of…”

“Hey,” Chris cut him off with a scowl. “We’ve got a total of three dead now with this morning’s bomb.” He motioned towards the church. “We’re not horsing around here.”

Barham held up his hands in surrender. “ I know that Larabee, just tell me what you got.”

“John Michael Clark.”

Barham’s eyes narrowed. “You are sure?”

“95 %” Chris answered. “We’ve been going through details half the night.”

“Well, you best go over them again, with me now.  I’m gonna need something valid to say when Southeast arrives.”
 

Clark adjusted the focus on his binoculars and pointed them back in the direction of the church.  He found his target and slowly smiled.  Agent Larabee was talking to a FBI man.  If the FBI were moving in, it could mean that his name had come up.

Turning slightly, he watched the six men with Larabee. Obviously the so-called ‘Magnificent’ ones.  They didn’t look like much from this angle, he thought.  The big man with the beard looked like he should be applying for retirement while the kid next to him looked more like he was still in high school.  Beside them a taller dark haired man stood, pointing out something on a piece of paper with one hand and rubbing at his mustache with the other.  From the exchange, Clark could tell immediately that the kid and the mustache were close and noted that fact.  He watched the black man hand another paper to the trio and point over something of obvious importance.  He wondered if they were talking about him.  Shifting back to Larabee again, Clark watched the conversation with the FBI man unfold, trying to read their lips but he was too far away. There was another ATF agent next to Larabee, who looked like he was monopolizing a good portion of the conversation.   The slim agent motioned confidently toward the papers spread out on the table between the agents, as if he was explaining whatever was on them.  Clark frowned; the guy was definitely one of the seven, but who was he and what was he telling the FBI?  He certainly didn’t look very threatening.  The brown haired agent was dressed in jeans and light blue button down, but carried himself like he was in a three-piece suit.

The man’s demeanor unsettled Clark enough that when he focused on the seventh ATF agent he was startled to see the man’s piercing blue eyes staring directly at him.  Even with the knowledge that he was well out of sight, he ducked.  After a moment he dared to look again.  The longer haired agent’s attention was back on the table and discussion like everyone else, but as if he had radar, the agent turned and Clark found himself looking straight into those blue eyes again.   This time he didn’t hide.  He knew it was almost impossible anyone could see him, he was too far away and unless the sun reflected off the binoculars he was safe.  To his advantage was the fact that the sun had yet to even make an effort to get beyond the thick clouds.  Clark watched the agent squint and brush some stray hair out of his face.  He held his breath, waiting for the man to point and shout or something but someone must have said something to him cause to Clark’s relief, he turned back to the others.  There was a shrug and a shake of the head and then suddenly all eight men were looking in his direction. He could have sworn his heart stopped beating until gradually, one by one the men turned away. Clark wasted no time then, getting out of the area.  He was unnerved more than he wanted to admit but the intensity he’d seen in those searching faces. They had known he was there somewhere, he could tell that, even if only by premonition, they could feel his presence.  A smug feeling filled him suddenly with the knowledge that he now knew each face.  The magnificent 7 were locked forever into his photographic memory.
 

Chris listened as Ezra pointed out to Payton the coinciding details between Atlanta’s bombings and the two they were now dealing with.  He was thankful that Barham was at least a fair man, not getting hung up on Standish’s past with the FBI like almost every other FBI agent team seven encountered.   He listened as Nathan directed Buck, Josiah and JD to what Ezra was talking about and wondered what Vin thought of the whole situation.  Looking up, Chris was surprised to find his best friend staring off into the distance.

“Vin?” He asked, aware he was interrupting Ezra. It took Vin a moment to acknowledge him but eventually the sharpshooter turned toward him. “Something wrong?” Chris could see the troubled look in Vin’s eyes.

Vin shook his head and half shrugged, not knowing how to explain the feeling he had.  It was like he could physically feel someone watching him, them, but he couldn’t see anyone out there.  “Not really, just a feeling.” He waved Chris off.

“What kind of feeling?” Josiah asked, well aware that when it came to Vin and feelings, it was usually something important enough to pay attention to.

Vin shook his head again. “Just feel kind of like we’re being watched.”

Immediately everyone turned to look where Vin had just been searching. Vin tried to explain. “It was just a feeling, most likely nothing.”

“Could be though.” Barham peered from building to building.

“Wouldn’t that be stupid though?” JD turned back to the table first. “I mean the guy wouldn’t run such a huge chance at getting caught, would he?”

“I don’t know JD, wouldn’t seem logical unless…” Josiah started.

“Unless he was jerking us around.” Ezra, Chris and Buck echoed Vin’s earlier sentiment.

Nathan chuckled lightly. “Seems to me we keep coming back to that point.”

Barham frowned and scratched his clean- chin. “We have a pretty tight profile on this guy, Larabee. Just because the bombs seemed to match his signature doesn’t guarantee it’s Clark.”

Chris looked at Payton intently, his expression stony. “You want to be responsible for making that assumption, it’s no sweat of my back.” He told him.  “You’re the one in charge now, but regardless of that we still have a guy out there blowing up our city.”

“Ease up now.” Barham interrupted. “I know what’s what here and you should know me well enough to know I’m not writing you off, but right now we’re gong on little more than coincidences.  Atlanta’s going to be here in a few hours and I know how well your teams work together.” He glanced at Ezra before continuing. “I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, I’m saying you guys hate each other, period.  Your team is going to need to come up with some solid connections here or those Southeast boys are going to be in your face.”

Buck snorted; about to make a comment but a look from Chris kept him quiet. “All right Payton, what’s your plan then?”

“I want someone in contact with the labs, see if any of the test have come back with results we can track yet.”

Chris pointed to Buck, “Buck, JD, you two go visit the lab and touch base with the techs. Anything new or relative to the case, no matter how insignificant, call.”

“You got it boss.” Buck flashed a threatening glare at Barham as he grabbed JD by the scruff of the neck. “Let’s get back to the office, Kid.”

“Can’t we just call?” JD asked following.

“We could, but Chris said to touch base, and in person we can lay on the charm.”

JD rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Buck. Whatever.”

Barham cleared his throat and continued. “ I also want Tanner to check out those buildings.” He pointed to where Vin had been looking earlier. Vin looked up in surprise and Barham shrugged. “Your reputation gets around. Vin Tanner gets a feeling and you act on it or end up regretting it later.”

Chris motioned to Vin. “ Take Nathan with you and watch your back.”

“Always do.” Vin looked to Nathan who nodded. “Let’s go.”

“And what do you have in mind for Mr. Sanchez and myself?” Ezra asked the FBI agent.

“I want you two here with Chris and I.  We need to iron out a detailed profile on this bomber and on Clark and then compare and contrast.”

“What about your team?” Chris asked, his eyes drifting to the FBI agents milling around the scene.

“They’re in charge of the site.” Barham answered. “There’s still a lot of evidence to gather.”
 

Vin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  This was the fourth roof top Nathan and him had looked at and so far they’d found nothing to indicate that Clark or anyone else had been in the area and watching them. “When did I get this reputation anyway?” He wondered to himself. “It’s not like I’m a psychic or something, geez.” He turned toward the low wall that went around the entire rooftop and put his hands on his hips. He stepped closer to the edge and squinted at the bombsite. Not much anyone could see from this far away.

“Sometimes a feeling is just a feeling.” He muttered, his hand once again dragging through his dark hair.

“You find something?” Nathan came up beside him.

Vin shook his head. “Nope.” He took another step toward the wall and walked slowly beside it, focusing on the roof.

The black top was covered with a soft gray sooty dust. It looked like it had recently been worked on was his guess.  Suddenly he pulled up short. Right in front of him in the dust and soot were scuffmarks that looked very fresh. Squatting, he looked closer.

“What do you got?” Nathan asked.

“Looks like someone was here.” Vin looked over the wall, down to the site.  If he had a good set of binoculars he’d be able to see everything going on at the site, especially where they’d been having their meeting. He turned back to the ground.  “See here.” He called to Nathan. “Looks like he was on his knees, probably elbows on the ledge.”

“Binoculars?” Nathan asked.

“I reckon. You got your camera?”

“Yup.” Nathan reached for the case slung over his shoulder and pulling the camera out, popped the lens cap off. Quickly he started snapping pictures of the area Vin pointed out.  He wondered to himself where this case was leading.  The fact that Ezra had stepped in with the details connecting John Michael Clark had surprised him.  For all Ezra’s efforts to appear aloof and indifferent, Nathan was slowly learning to see past the act.  Granted he’d be the first to admit his instincts were usually to jump to unflattering conclusions where Ezra was concerned, but he was working on it.  He’d learned that despite Standish’s aversion to work, the Southerner was meticulous with the details of his cases, it just caught him off guard to find out that Ezra would put as much time and effort into a case that he hadn’t even been assigned to.  Vin interrupted Nathan’s thoughts.

“Hey Nate, check this out.”

“What?”

“Looks like he left us a good footprint here by the door.” Vin pointed to the ground next to the exit leading to the lower floors. “We came up over there.” He motioned to the second door.

“You think we just missed him?” Nathan focused the camera carefully, trying to get the shoe print as clear as possible.

“Naw.” Vin looked out over the skyline. “If he was watching us, he saw all of us look up here and I’m betting he hightailed it out of here then.”

“I have to agree with JD, sounds like a pretty stupid chance to take.” Nathan stood again and put his camera away.

“Not if he’s playing the game.” Vin told him.

“The game?” Nathan’s eyes met Vin’s.

Vin nodded. “The way the bombings have been so far, he’s leading us to think this is all a campaign of some sort right?”

“He’s making his politics clear, yeah.” Nathan agreed.

“What if it’s all just strategy? You know, keeping us all focused on that one point when politics really has nothing to do with it. Maybe he just gets his kicks out of blowing things up.”

“You think that’s why he was watching us?”

“Not sure, just a thought.”

“Makes sense though, I guess… if any of this can make sense.”

“Yeah.” Vin frowned and pulled his cell phone out of the leather case attached to his belt. “Better call in Barham’s techs.”
 

Ezra watched Payton Barham closely.  He knew the man was giving his ideas consideration but at this point he wasn’t sure how much credence Barham was giving him. He’s like to think that the agent sitting opposite him would have no doubts of his credibility but Ezra knew better than that.  The Bureau might be large but it was worse than a small town when it came to gossip and rumors and he had the uneasy feeling that his history with the agency would come up in the conversation sooner or later.

A light breeze rustled the papers on the table and instinctively the group of agents reached to settle things and keep anything from blowing away.  After what felt like a prolonged silence Barham looked directly at Ezra. “So other than the signature similarities, you really have nothing else to tie these two incidents to Clark.”

Ezra’s expression didn’t change but Chris and Josiah saw the flash of indignation in his green eyes. When he didn’t answer immediately Barham continued.

“ You know agent Standish, you do not have the best reputation in the Bureau.”

“Listen Barham.” Chris cut in but Ezra spoke up.

“I am well aware of my reputation.”

“There are men who claim you are a loose cannon. You’re unable to work with those in authority. You’re a wild card, unpredictable and unreliable.” Barham went on.

“As I said, I am well aware of my reputation.” Ezra repeated, his face showing no signs that Barham’s words effected him at all.

“Payton.” Chris growled. “What does this have to do with anything?” He was not going to allow Barham to continue to berate Ezra.

“Larabee, Southeast is going to be here any minute now, looking for concrete facts that prove Clark is our man.  When they find out Standish is the agent that drew the connection…”

“Then don’t tell them.” Ezra interrupted.

“What?” Barham and Chris asked together.

“Look,” Ezra looked from one man to another. “ I cannot explain why I’ve connected this case to Clark in anyway that would satisfy you or the task force, but I know it’s him.  The most important thing is to put an end to these bombings and if that means leaving me out of the equation so they’ll cooperate, so be it. I need to catch up on my sleep anyway.” He stood and handed his file to Josiah. Suppressing a very real yawn he moved directly towards the coffee, not even caring at this point that is was probably just sludge.  He was exhausted and he needed some aspirin.

“Ezra shouldn’t have to explain himself.” Josiah’s normally gentle voice was almost harsh as he stared hard at Barham. “You know very well that there is plenty of connection here to call in the task force, if we hadn’t, you guys would have been down our throats before we could blink.” He swallowed and cleared his throat, straining to keep his voice even. “Standish’s reputation might be shot but for all his faults, over half of that rep was given to him by your organization.  If you asked me, there’d be no decision to make. I’d trust my life to that man and his instincts over you and your years of experience right now, even when he’s working on less than half a nights sleep and dealing with a concussion.” With that the large man nodded once to Chris and left the table to find Ezra.

Chris smiled inwardly but kept his face serious. He waited for Barham to speak.

“It was a valid concern Chris.” Payton spoke up finally.

“No, it wasn’t.”

Barham tried to smile. “Think of it as me playing devil’s advocate then, these thing will come up when the others get here.”

“They don’t have to.” Chris said tightly.

“You and I know that, but Southeast gets a look at Standish they’re gonna sound off first and listen later, maybe… But.” He looked evenly at Chris. “I think you and Standish are on track. There’s a feeling with this one that screams Clark, I just wish we could be sure. No signs of  ‘ Army of Justice’ letters?”

“None, but Josiah’s starting to think those were decoys anyway.” Chris didn’t miss the fact that his friend had changed the subject rather abruptly.

“Then what’s the man’s point?”

Chris shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a twisted man playing games.”
 

Buck smiled attentively at the pretty lab technician while JD stood back out of the way shaking his head and listening closely.  He knew from experience that Buck was too busy flirting to be paying close attention to what Jaelyn was actually saying.

The woman smiled at Buck’s compliment about how she looked today and tilted her head to the side slightly. JD could tell immediately that she was seeing straight through his roommate.

Jaelyn pushed a strand of her long dark hair back up into the simple clasp she used to keep it out of her way while she worked.  “That’s what we have so far.” She nodded to the paper in Buck’s hands but spoke mainly to JD. “He’s definitely using roofing nails.” She turned to pick up her copy of the report and Buck was surprised by the Celtic knot work tattoo on her neck, right below her hairline.  He never figured Jaelyn as the tattoo type.  He loved a woman of mystery.

“Buck.” JD smacked his arm, bringing his attention back to the lab.

“What?” He scowled at the kid.

“Where you listening to what Jae just said?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck nodded. “Roofing nails.”

Jaelyn laughed softly and shook her head. “I’ll let you explain it to him.  I have to get back to work on your other tests.”

“Thanks Jaelyn.” JD grabbed Buck’s arm and started dragging him towards the door.

“Talk to you later Jaelyn.” Buck strained to catch another glimpse of the sashaying lab coat.

“Buck.” JD let the door swing closed behind them. “The case.” He waved the paper in Wilmington’s face.

Buck sighed and tried to refocus. “What about it?”

“The nails, they’re a certain brand.”

“Yeah.” Buck paused and leaned against the wall.

“This company went out of business two years ago.” JD waited for the implication to sink in.

“Were these new?” Buck asked suddenly.

JD’s head bobbed. “Yup, Jae said there’s only 12 hardware stores in Denver that still have stock.”

“She’s sure?”

JD grinned. “Has Jaelyn ever let you down?”

Buck laughed. “Not yet but I’d like to…”

“I don’t want to hear it.” JD held up a hand to cut Buck off. “I’ll call Chris, we need to go by and pick up the picture of Clark, then hit some hardware stores.”

“You have a list already?”

“If you’d been paying attention to what she was saying you’d know that Buck.”

“Oh I was paying attention.” Buck insisted.

“Not to what she was saying.” JD skirted out of reach before Buck could swing at him.
 

Josiah was interrupted from finding Ezra immediately by Nathan and Vin’s return.  “What did you find?” He asked.

“Someone was there, watching.” Nathan told him. “Vin found where he was slouched down on the roof, probably using binoculars. Also found a good footprint in the dust up there.”

“You didn’t stay?” Josiah handed a cup of coffee to Vin, then turned to get one for Nathan.

“FBI sent us back, they had it covered.”

Josiah didn’t miss the tension in Vin’s voice.

“What’s been happening here?” Nathan asked after thanking him for the coffee.

“Well, we hashed through the details, again, then Barham basically questioned Ezra’s reputation.”

“What?” Both Nathan and Vin turned sharply towards where they’d seen Barham but encountered Chris instead.  He’d heard Josiah’s comment and their reaction.

“He was just giving us an unwanted preview of what to expect when the Task force gets here.” He explained. “He believes Ezra’s right about the connection to Clark.

The three men stood quietly mulling over the news before Chris spoke up again. “JD just called. Looks like Clark has been out of circulation too long for his own good.”

“Meaning?” Vin sipped his coffee.

“Brand of nails he used, company that made them went under two years ago. Only twelve stores in Denver still carry any in their inventory.”

“So there’s a good chance he bought them at one of these stores.” Josiah finished.

Chris nodded. “Buck and JD will take six. I want Vin and Ezra on the other half.”

“Did I hear my moniker?” The group turned as Ezra approached and though the scenario caused a flare of apprehension that they were talking about him, he refused to let himself show it.

“I’m sending you out with Vin to check hardware stores.” Chris chuckled at the face Ezra made and quickly explained the reason.

“I see, and Mr. Tanner and I are to take Mr. Clark’s photograph around while we inquire?”

“Yup.”

“Won’t that stir up the media?” Nathan asked.

“Probably, but they already know something is going on.” Chris motioned to the barricade behind which dozens of news crews were set up.  “The good thing is Clark’s face was never as prominent out here as it was back east. That should help you keep a low profile. Nathan, you and Josiah take your film in and get it processed. That’s a digital right?” He pointed to the camera.  Nathan nodded. “Good get an extra print for us too. You know the drill, check in every hour or sooner if something comes up. I’ll stay here with Payton and greet the task force.”

 “Lucky you.” Vin grinned, “Come on Ezra, let’s check out some of Denver’s finest.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to visiting hardware stores.” Ezra sighed distastefully as he rubbed his temples and walked with Vin towards the jeep.

“You’ll manage.” Vin laughed. “What’s that line your mother always uses on you? Appearances are everything?"

Ezra looked at Vin. “Precisely my point, Mr. Tanner.”

“Yeah well, It’s Chris’ way of keeping the heat off you when the task force pulls in, so accept the intent graciously.” Vin shook his head at Ezra’s astounded expression as he climbed into the jeep. “You must have gotten hit harder than we thought Ezra. You’re getting rusty at seeing through us.”

Ezra flashed a sarcastic grin but bit back his normal disdainful comment about the transportation that he was forced to endure, instead choosing to study the 8x10 picture of Clark.
 

“Where the hell did you get this information?” Agent Brian Schoolcraft fumed as he waved a file in Chris’ face.

Larabee bit his tongue and tried to remind himself that losing his temper would do nothing to help this case.  He felt more than saw Barham shift uncomfortably beside him and wondered what on earth had led him to send his entire team out so he would face the vipers alone.  “It’s all a matter of public record.” He smiled one of his best, knowing he tended to look menacing when he did.

“Not all of it, Larabee.” Schoolcraft barked.  A large, prideful man with years of FBI experience, he was familiar with Larabee and his team and was determined not to be intimidated.

“What’s not public knowledge we obtained through research.” Chris leaned forward slightly, daring Schoolcraft to accuse him of anything.

Schoolcraft scoffed but didn’t continue his tirade. Instead he turned his attention to Barham.  “What have you found out or did Standish drag us all out here for nothing?”

Chris glared at the man, his patience was now gone and he wondered how the task force had found out that Ezra was behind the Clark lead.

Barham jumped in before Chris could speak. “No Schoolcraft, I’d say you need to have your men settle in.  This looks like it could very well be Clark’s work.”

“Doesn’t follow his pattern, two in a row so close together like this.” Brian pointed out.

“He didn’t have a pattern.” Chris answered.

Barham nodded his agreement. “He’s right, there was no pattern of set time between the Southeast bombings, but the individual bombings match, right down to a second bomb aimed at emergency workers.”

Schoolcraft sighed heavily and sank into a nearby metal folding chair. “All this was covered on the national news so there’s still a possibility Standish is wrong and this is just a copycat.”

“It’s possible.” Chris admitted, knowing the statement was directed at him. “But I’m pretty sure your boy isn’t hiding in the woods anymore.”

Schoolcraft stared at Larabee, the two men sizing each other up. He didn’t understand the ATF agent’s faith in a character like Standish but the man had a strong point. “Better bring me up to date so we can catch this guy then.”
 

“We are heading for a Chuck’s Hardware.” Ezra shook his head and grimaced.  “Yes, it’s the fourth place on our list.” He repeated the address, “see you there.”  As he was putting his cell phone away he caught Vin’s questioning look.  “Buck and JD have are going to join us for our last three stops.”

“They come up dry?” Vin asked.

“As the Sahara.”

Chuck’s Hardware was worse than Ezra had imagined.  He barely managed to control a shudder when Vin opened the front door, causing a small bell to ring.  “How quaint.” He drawled, glancing up at the offending noisemaker.

“Turn on the charm, Ezra.  You deceive people for a living, you can certainly pretend not to be disgusted.” Vin teased softly as he peered around the dimly lit store.  Shelves were stacked close together creating narrow aisles of everything from nuts and bolts to PVC pipe and toilet plungers.  To the left side of the store was a small check out counter and a graying man in a green flannel shirt.  He was taking care of a customer while a couple of other men milled at the back of the store around a tiny desk with a coffee pot and styrofoam cups littering it’s surface.

Ezra followed Vin down an aisle, knowing the sharpshooter was waiting for the clerk, who he assumed, was Chuck, to finish up with his customer before questioning him.  Vin paused in front of a display and zeroed in on the assortment of roofing nails.  He picked up a box and tapped the brand name twice, indicating to Ezra that it was the kind they thought Clark was using.  Ezra nodded his understanding, then moved on into the next aisle.  A light buzzed annoyingly above him and the two gentlemen by the coffeepot were laughing over something they thought hysterical.  Somewhere in the store he could hear a radio tuned to a country station.  Sighing he looked at a display of doorknobs and tried to fathom why anyone would want to buy one.

The little bell over the door rang and Ezra, along with everybody else in the store automatically looked up.  He half expected to see Buck and JD lumber into the building but instead it was just another customer.  Ezra took in the man’s appearance and dress with an instinct that came from years of observing people.  The tall man scratched his dark beard, and stuck his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.  He wore a black  t-shirt and a hooded gray sweatshirt.

Just as Ezra was about to dismiss the man, the stranger looked directly at him.  Their eyes met and Ezra saw the recognition dawn in the brown eyes before it even connected in his own mind who he was looking at.  They stood frozen for a minute, two men staring at each other over rows of do it yourself home improvement books.

Ezra’s mind raced into action. “Vin.” He almost barked as he reached for his weapon.

Clark spun and threw himself out the door, bowling over an unaware Buck in the process.

“What the?” Buck yelled as he picked himself up the ground and started to yell at the retreating figure until he had to jump out of Ezra’s way and struggle to keep his balance again. He stared, open mouthed at Ezra running after the man that had knocked him down.

Vin was out of the door next, dialing his phone and keeping an eye on Ezra. When he saw Buck he threw the phone at him yelling over his shoulder as he ran. “It’s Clark. Tell Chris where we are, I’ve got to back up Ezra.”

Buck looked at the phone then passed it to JD. “You heard the man.”

“What?” JD put a hand on his hip and watched Buck run after Vin and Ezra, “This is so unfair.”

Clark ran for all he was worth.  He weaved across a busy street and narrowly escaped ending his life under a Ford Taurus.  He could not believe he’d walked right into a store full of ATF agents, not that he knew how many were really there. He’d only saw the one. Glancing over his shoulder he confirmed that ‘the one’ was still after him.  He pushed more energy to his legs and looked for any available place to lose himself in a crowd.  He could almost feel the piercing green eyes of his pursuer burning into his back.  Clark growled as he pushed a slow moving shopper out of his path, frustrated that he didn’t know the streets of Denver better.  He only hoped the agent behind him was more familiar with sitting behind a desk than working on the streets.
 

“What?” Chris stood up abruptly causing everyone in the immediate area to stop what they were doing and listen.  “Where are they headed?” He nodded and grabbed a pen out of Barham’s hand.  “All right, we’re on our way. Stay there. No JD, I mean it. I need you right where you are. Go inside and talk to the owner.” Chris snapped the phone closed with an angry click.

“Well I’ve got your confirmation.” He growled at Schoolcraft. “Three of my agents are in a foot chase with Clark.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Schoolcraft’s mouth dropped open.

“Do I look like a kidder?”

The area was suddenly in motion as agents shouted and Schoolcraft started directing teams to go.  Barham and Chris headed for Chris’ truck.

“Hey Larabee!” One of the network reporters yelled out. “What’s going on?”

“Ask the FBI, they’re in charge!” Chris yelled back as he climbed into his Ram.  He tossed his phone to Payton who turned just in time to catch it. “Press speed dial 8 and get Josiah and Nathan to that hardware store.”
 

Josiah screeched to a stop outside Chuck’s Hardware, thankful to find JD still in place, pacing back and forth and holding back the small crowd that was gathering.

JD saw him and Nathan coming and cleared a path. “I’m glad to see you guys here.” He said genuinely.

“What happened?” Nathan asked.

JD shook his head. “Buck and I were just walking into the store when some guy ran out. He knocked Buck down and took off that way. Ezra was after him, then Vin came out saying it was Clark. Buck went with him after them.” He paused to catch his breath before he motioned them into the store. “Owner’s in here. Said he was dealing with a customer when Clark came in.  Said Ezra and Clark stared at each other for a minute like they knew each other, then the guy bolted, Ezra shouted something and took off after him.”

Josiah listened as they entered the small store and followed JD down a narrow aisle. “Does he have surveillance cameras?”

“Yeah, he’s getting the tape for me now.” JD looked at him. “We’re going after them right?”

“Chris is out there now.” Nathan explained. “We need to get to work here.” He added as the bell over the door rang and a  half dozen FBI agents entered.
 

Chris took the corner faster than he intended and struggled to keep the truck in it’s own lane as the back end fishtailed wildly.

“Larabee!” Barham shouted his panic.

“Just hold on Payton.” Chris yelled back.  His siren was giving him a headache as he searched the sidewalk for signs of any of his men. He knew they were somewhere in the general area.

A black blur darted out in front of him and he slammed on his brakes.

“Was that?” Barham questioned as Chris started to go again, only to slam the brakes on a second time.  He’d come so close to hitting Ezra that the Southerner actually had his hands on the hood as if he could stop the truck on his own. Ezra nodded once to Chris, checked traffic and took off again.

“It was.” Chris finally answered Barham’s question.  Looking this time he saw Vin and Buck but was afraid they were too far behind Ezra to provide back up when needed.  He could still see Clark and focused on the man as he started forward again. A quick glance in the rear view mirror assured him that Vin and Buck had made it across the street without a problem.

He easily caught up with Ezra and could see Clark in the distance.  Clark looked his way once, before turning down an alley too small for the Ram to get through.

“Damn it.” Chris braked hard and spun the truck to a stop, jumping out. “Try to cut him off!” He told Payton then ran into the alley.

“When did I put him in charge?” Barham asked himself as he put the truck in gear. He waved Vin and Buck down the alley, then, checking traffic he did an illegal u-turn and started searching for a place to cut Clark off.
 

Clark’s sides were burning and he wished for the first time in a year and a half that he was back in the Carolina woods.  All he needed now was a high fence to flip over and this would be the perfect movie chase scene.  Not only had he come roaring out of hiding, now he was being chased through Denver by four ATF agents. He almost expected to hear a helicopter, now that would be perfect. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of an open door and immediately ducked into the darkness.  He didn’t pause to see what building he’d entered or if the agents would keep running past him, instead he took the stairs two at a time and ended up in long hallway.  Clark wasn’t sure where he was but he thought it was a hotel.  An elevator opened and he jumped inside, thankful it was empty.  He pressed buttons 4 through 7 and held his breath until the doors slid closed, hoping the guy on his tail would think it a bluff and keep running back to the street.  `
 

Ezra entered the hall in time to hear the elevator doors close and immediately turned back to the stairs.  He checked each hallway for the elevator before running up another flight; just praying he wouldn’t miss Clark and lose him.    He knew the man was here. He could feel him.  In the distance Ezra thought he could hear Chris yelling for him, just as Vin had earlier but he couldn’t give away his location.  He strained to run faster.  On the fifth floor he caught sight of Clark’s gray sweatshirt. Ignoring the sound of footsteps running up the stairs behind him he sprinted into the hall as Clark hit the far stairwell full speed.  It wasn’t likely the man would get away, Ezra could hear the sirens getting closer and realized the FBI would have the hotel surrounded in no time, but he couldn’t take the chance, so he ran into the stairwell after Clark.
 

Chris had reached the fifth floor of the hotel and saw the door leading to the stairs at the end of the hall close.  His knee felt like it was ripping apart with each step but the old injury didn’t keep him from running.  Vin and Buck were right behind him.

“Which way did they go?” Buck asked, catching his breath.

“Stairs.” Chris called over his shoulder.

“We were just on the stairs.” Buck pointed out.

“These stairs.” Vin grinned as he followed Chris down the first flight.

Buck growled and followed. “I’m getting too old for this.” He muttered.
 

Clark exploded out into another cluttered alley and heard the sirens. They were too close for comfort, or a get away on foot.  He hurled himself in between two dumpsters and squeezed behind the one furthest from the door, hoping it would provide him with enough cover to get away in the chaos of searching the hotel. “You might have just forfeited the game here, John” He thought as cars and trucks pulled up, and agents spilled out into the area.  It took him just a second from his limited viewpoint to realize that they were setting up and waiting for him to come out the door. “Well, this is gonna be entertaining.”

Ezra pushed through the emergency exit at full speed only to be forced to an immediate stop by twenty some agents all with their weapons trained on him.

“On the Ground!” Someone shouted as he instinctively raised his hands.

“Drop your weapon, NOW!” Another voice.

His fingers gripped his gun tightly, not obeying his brain’s command to let go, his body now concentrating solely on breathing.  The change between full pursuit and sudden stop making him dizzy and disoriented. Someone shouted again for him to drop his weapon and he felt himself tossing it away. No sooner had it hit the ground then he violently followed it.  “I’m ATF.” He finally managed to gasp, only to receive a knee to his back for the effort.  The blow knocked what breath he had left out of him.

“Yeah right, shut up.” He heard someone respond. His arms were wrenched behind him, his shoulder slipping out of joint with an audible pop, as a hand roughly drove his face into the ground.  The impact jolted him into a stunned compliance.

Clark watched the FBI brutally subdue the agent and then carefully slid out from behind the dumpster on the far side of the action.  It was easier to slink away than he thought it would be thanks to the satisfying distraction from the ATF agent who’d put him in this situation to begin with, but he didn’t slow down to check if anyone was following him.  It was time for another disappearing act.
 

When Chris, Vin and Buck came barreling out of the hotel’s emergency exit they found a half dozen weapons turn on them instantly.

“Easy.” Buck said between gasps. “We’re ATF.”

The weapons lowered slowly as the three men flashed their Ids.  Chris noticed the three men pinning someone to the ground. “You got him?” He asked.

“Ah hell.” Vin pushed past the first few agents, ignoring their protests.

“Yeah we got him.” One man answered, but Chris was now focused on what Vin was upset about.

“Get off him now! That’s not Clark.” Vin yelled hauling an agent off Ezra.

Chris blinked and felt the rage bloom instantly in his gut. “Who’s in charge here?” He asked deceptively calm as Buck hurried to help Vin.

“I am, name’s Kent Miller.” A blond man slightly shorter and younger than Chris stepped forward. “What’s the problem and what does he mean that’s not Clark?”

“Are you an idiot??” Chris bellowed, leaning into the man’s face. “Have you even looked at a picture of the suspect or read his stats?”

“Of course I have!” Miller shouted back defensively.

“Yeah, well did you notice,” Chris’ voice lowered to a level, making him sound more sinister, “that the man you just caught is a good three inches shorter than Clark, has green eyes instead of brown and is over twenty pounds lighter? Not to mention,” his voice returned to a bellow, “he’s one of MY agents?” Chris grabbed Miller by the front of his shirt. “Did you bother to listen when he told you he was ATF or did you knock him out before he could?” He didn’t wait for an answer, knowing he wouldn’t get one, instead he gave the agent a hard shove. “I’d suggest you get your men out after Clark and start thinking of a good explanation for letting him get away.”

Buck angrily snagged the keys that were handed to him and knelt to unlock the cuffs on Ezra.

“You okay Ezra?” Vin asked.

“I’ve been better I believe.” Ezra muttered softly. Vin grinned in spite of himself, grateful to hear Ezra conscious and coherent. “Buck’s gonna unlock the cuffs and we’ll get you up.”

“Shoulder’s out.” Ezra warned.

Vin checked to make sure Buck had heard. Buck nodded as he carefully eased the tight restraints off and helped Ezra move his arms, flinching at the Southerner’s sharp intake of breath when he touched the bad arm.

“He okay?” Chris asked, still fuming.

“I’ll live.” Ezra groaned as Vin and Buck eased him onto his side and then let him push himself up with his functioning arm.  Slowly Ezra got himself up enough that Buck was able to get his arm around him and help him into a sitting position.  Ezra pressed the back of his hand to his bleeding nose.

“Man, what did they do to you?” Buck whistled.

“I think it’s commonly referred to as subduing a suspect.” Ezra frowned. “Clark?” He asked looking at Chris.

“Gone.” Chris answered.

“Damn!” Ezra’s eyes flashed angrily and he struck out but Buck caught his bruised wrist before his fist hit the ground.

“Easy there, I think you’ve had enough contact with the ground today.”

“Let’s get you to the ER.” Chris said, not trusting himself to address Ezra’s anger. His own rage was just barely under control as it was.

“I’m not going to the hospital.” Ezra stated emphatically.

“You can’t move your arm and your nose might be broken, not to mention your concussion.” Chris pointed out.

“Find Nathan and he can fix my shoulder, or there’s this unique little trick he taught me to fix it myself.”

“No way.” Vin shook his head. “Nathan told you never to do that unless it was an emergency. You could screw up your arm worse, slamming it into a wall like that.”

Ezra shot a scathing look at Vin and started to reply but Chris stopped him. “We’ll get Nathan.”

Nathan arrived ten minutes later with Josiah and JD.  The hotel scene was in a worse state of confusion than the hardware store they’d just left. Josiah cleared a path through the news crews so that they could get to the actual scene.

“Man alive!” JD exclaimed, tripping over a cable for the third time before ducking under the yellow tape barrier into the crowded alley.  He kept his eyes on Nathan and Josiah, following them through the maze of cars and men until they reached the others.

“What happened?” He asked in unison with Nathan as the EMT went right to Ezra.

“FBI mistook Ezra here for Clark.” Vin told them.

“What?” Josiah felt a flair of anger.

“A regrettable misunderstanding.” Ezra’s voice was a combination of bitterness and mockery.

“They said that?” JD asked incredulously.

“They Atlanta boys?” Josiah asked, watching as Nathan quickly examined Ezra’s injury.

“Yup.” Buck was watching Chris continue to rail Miller.

Nathan looked Ezra over in silence, asking only necessary questions.  He could feel the heat of anger literally radiating off his friend even though the man had slipped back into his stoic mask.  “You hurt anywhere else?”

Ezra shook his head, not wanting to meet Nathan’s intense look.

Nathan waited until Ezra looked him in the eye and repeated the question in a tone that told Ezra he’d keep asking until he got the truth.

“Bruise on my back, a knee if I recall correctly.”  He heard Vin and Josiah both swear under their breath at his admission.

“Let’s fix your arm first, then I’ll check your back.” Nathan said calmly.

“My back’s fine.”

Nathan ignored him. “You ready?” He asked, gently grasping the injured arm.  Ezra didn’t look at him but took a deep breath and nodded once.  The sound the shoulder made caused everybody to jump and cringe. Ezra didn’t make a sound but his eyes were still closed and his breathing very controlled when Nathan moved behind him.  The EMT raised his shirt and checked the spreading bruise to make sure there was no serious damage.

“Thank you.” Ezra eventually managed to find his voice.

“Sure, but you should really get to the hospital.” Nathan pointed out.

“I don’t need the hospital.” Ezra’s voice betrayed the hurt and weariness he refused to admit but Nathan just sighed and backed off, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

“Fine but if I see any signs you’re having trouble, I’m taking you in.”

Before Ezra could respond he saw Brian Schoolcraft heading straight for him. He flashed back to several cases the two of them had worked together on in Atlanta and knew what was coming. “Here we go.” He said softly causing the others to look from him to the approaching agent in confusion. He slid off the hood of the squad car Buck had commandeered earlier for him to sit on and slipped into an indifferent posture.
 

“He resisted arrest, we were just following procedure.”

“He resisted arrest because he’s an ATF agent and you let his suspect get away.” Chris was tired of Miller’s excuses.  What he wanted to do was haul off and knock the man all the way back to Atlanta. Miller for his part, continued to stutter and offer scripted apologies.  Chris had been set to leave the man alone until he’d used the words ‘regrettable misunderstanding.’

“Do you realize you are responsible for letting a serial bomber escape?” Chris leaned closer to Miller enjoying his power to intimidate.  “A man that both our agencies have been after for almost four years?”

Miller grew a sudden backbone. “Look I apologized to you. I apologized to Standish and I…”
 
Chris grabbed him and thrust him back into the unmarked car behind them. “What did you just say?”

Miller’s eyes widened in complete fear. “I, I said I apologized.”

Chris’ voice dropped to a gravely whisper. “No, you said you apologized to Standish. I didn’t tell you his name.” He jerked Miller forward and slammed him back again. “If you know who he is, how the hell did you mistake him for Clark?”

“It happened so fast, we didn’t know until after.” Miller knew Larabee was going to hit him, but the blow never came. Instead he heard loud yelling and suddenly Larabee was gone.
 

“What the hell were you thinking Standish?” Brian Schoolcraft didn’t stop until Josiah blocked his path, but that didn’t stop him from yelling.  “I asked you a question.” He glared at Josiah and stepped to the side so he could look at Ezra.

“I was pursuing a suspect, sir.” The last word was spit more than it was spoken.

“Oh boy.” Buck whispered.

“And you let him get away! Of all the men on this force it had to be you… the most incompetent, unreliable, worthless excuse for an agent.”

“At your service.” Ezra bowed mockingly as he interrupted.

“I’ll make sure you and your smart mouth never work in law enforcement again.” The FBI agent threatened.

“If I remember correctly,” Ezra’s icy tone matched the coldness in his eyes. “You tried that once before.”

Vin winced. “Subtle.” He mouthed to Buck.

“You little prick.” Schoolcraft tried to get past Josiah.

“Schoolcraft!” Chris’ voice brought the FBI agent’s rant to a halt as the older man spun around to face him.

“Do you claim responsibility for him?” Schoolcraft growled, motioning over his shoulder at Ezra who had slumped back against the squad car. “For him and this fiasco? I’ve got agents combing the city with news crews on every corner thanks to him.”

“He…” Chris also pointed to Ezra. “is responsible for connecting Clark to the bombings and making him a suspect. He is responsible for recognizing Clark and pursuing him.” Chris turned toward Miller and the few FBI agents still processing the scene. “They…” he emphasized, “are responsible for arresting Standish, and agent they can all recognize if they took the time too since they have worked with him in the past!” Chris was having trouble keeping his voice level. “ Maybe if the FBI would teach their agents to think instead of jumping to blind conclusions you’d have caught this guy years ago!”

It was Schoolcraft who was stunned into silence.

“And another thing,” Chris stepped uncomfortably close causing Schoolcraft to step backwards and bump into Josiah. “The next time you have something to say to Standish or anyone of my agents, you go through me first.”

Schoolcraft obviously didn’t want to give up the fight but was smart enough to know when he was out manned. “I apologize for the misunderstanding.” He said reluctantly.

“Yeah, well your apology isn’t going to help you catch Clark.” Chris stepped aside and Schoolcraft scurried away, the rest of the team watching in stunned silence.

Larabee’s eyes met Ezra’s. “Whatever he said to you…” Chris started.

“I know.” Ezra cut him off, his voice sounding confident but Chris wondered if he’d really seen the flash of doubt in his eyes or if it was part of his own imagination.

“Whew, he was full of crap Ezra.” JD stated with an honesty that broke the noticeable tension.

Buck burst out laughing and grabbed JD in a headlock. “He’s got a point there Ezra.”

Ezra smiled and chuckled lightly. “I trust Mr. Dunne implicitly.”
 

Chris pulled to a stop at the second bomb site and paused a minute before he climbed out of the truck. He stared at the church building, half of it a skeleton of what it used to be.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about the latest developments of the case. He was angry that his team had been relegated to a research role but relieved at the same time that he no longer had to deal directly with the FBI.   He only wished that they could take a more active role in tracking Clark. They’d been so close to capturing the man that having him slip through their grasp and being almost removed from the case was like a double blow.    Sighing he shook his head to chase the ‘what ifs’ away and climbed out of the truck.

The media didn’t recognize him right away and he was able to get past them without being bombarded with questions.  He found Payton Barham at a table going over a large map with two other agents, while distractedly stirring a cup of cold coffee.

“How’d it going?” Chris asked.

“It’s going.” Barham motioned to the map. “They think he’s headed for the mountains again.”

Chris nodded. “He is a survivalist after all.”

Barham let out a short laugh. “Yeah no thanks to us Feds.”

“Thanks for leaving my truck for me yesterday.”

“Yeah, your welcome. I got cut off by squad cars and Miller or I would have been able to keep him from making a full fledged jackass out of himself.”

“I’m not sure anyone could do that, Payton.”

Barham laughed again, then grew serious. “Standish okay? Your team all right?”

“They’re okay, angry but okay. Ezra’s banged up a bit but he’s been through worse.” Chris looked at the map.

“Schoolcraft won’t give him anymore trouble.”

“Oh I know that.” Chris assured him.

“You still on the case?” Barham took a sip of his coffee and scowled, quickly setting the cup on the table.

Chris half shrugged. “Not really. Now that they’ve confirmed it was Clark the Southeastern Task Force has taken complete control. After what happened with Ezra and then Schoolcraft the powers that be decided we’d do better in a research role.”

“Yeah I heard you were your normal diplomatic self.” Barham smiled.

“I didn’t hit him.” Chris defended himself and Payton chuckled.

“Tell you one thing for sure?”

“What’s that?” Chris asked, gathering up the files he had come looking for.

“If I need help out here, I’m coming to you.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Chris grinned, shaking his friend’s hand. “You know where to find us.” He added heading back for the truck. He groaned seeing the small crowd of reporters waiting for him.

“Agent Larabee is it true that John Michael Clark was sighted here in Denver?”

“No comment.” Chris moved past the first microphone.

“Come on Larabee, we heard you and your team almost had him yesterday but the FBI screwed it up.” Chris glanced at the young man who was shoving the microphone at him. Their eyes met briefly and Chris smiled slowly.  He winked at the reporter, “no comment.” He said and pushed on to his truck.
 

“When’s Chris getting back?” JD asked as he concentrated on flipping his pen across the back of his hand.

“Soon.” Josiah answered. “He just went out to the church site to pick up some files we left there in the scramble.”

“I still can’t believe they took us off field work. This should be our case.” JD tossed the pen onto his desk and sighed heavily.

“Yeah well, that’s the way it goes Kid.” Vin told him. “FBI had jurisdiction on this from way back.”

“Yeah but we found all the info for them. The footprint they found on the other side of those dumpsters matched the one Vin found on the roof.” He waved a file.

“Nothing we can do abut that now John Dunne except sit back and hope it helps the case.” Josiah said calmly.

“Do you really think he headed for the mountains like they say? I mean they thought he was still in North Carolina.”

“You never know, JD.” Nathan answered. “He really could be anywhere.”

Vin watched Ezra listen to the conversation but not participate.  Finally the Southerner looked up, knowing he was being watched.

“Is there a particular reason I’ve earned your scrutiny?” he asked evenly.

“Just wondering what you’re thinking.”

“Nothing specific.”

Vin smiled knowing his friend was lying. “You know it’s not your fault he got away.”

Ezra’s head snapped up quickly. “I never insinuated is was.”

“Didn’t say you did but I can see you mulling it over.” Vin answered.

Ezra paused and looked down at his hands, trying to ignore the aching of his body. “The scenario does keep repeating in my thoughts, yes.”

“Nothing you could or can do to change it Ezra.”

Ezra sighed heavily and nodded.  “I was so close Vin.” He admitted, letting his walls down momentarily, “if I had been faster, or more adamant with Miller.”

“Ezra if you had put up any more resistance then you did, they’d have shot you, and Clark still would have gotten away.” Vin watched Ezra struggle with his statement for a minute then nod and run his fingers through his hair.  When their eyes met, the undercover agent had his doubts under control again and Vin was no longer able to read him.

The phone rang and Buck answered it, a broad smile lighting up his face.

“Sure thing, Darling.” He hung up and tossed the receiver back into its cradle.

“Where are you going?” JD asked.

“Jaelyn has that surveillance footage processed and enlarged for us.”

“And she called you?” JD looked shocked.

“Of course she did.” Buck smoothed his mustache.

“But she could see straight through you! She didn’t fall for your flirting.” JD insisted.

“Must be she was more impressed by my natural charm than she realizes. Subconsciously…” He winked at Nathan who rolled his eyes, “she wants me.”

“Oh please!” JD protested but Buck was already out the door. “Unbelievable.” JD muttered shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
 

A clean shaven John Michael Clark stared down at the Colorado landscape with a pang of regret. He ran his fingers through his pale blond hair and leaned back against the seat again.  He would have liked to see the mountains but was not ready to hide out in them.

He smiled contentedly as the  ‘fasten seat belt’ light dinged off.  He did wish he had more time to challenge Chris Larabee’s team of agents.  Somehow he could tell that with these seven men he’d just played the most challenging game since that first year in Atlanta, if not ever.  Clark knew their names now, and had a picture thanks to tapping into some mutual friends and their resources. Part of him wanted to stick around and get to know this team a little better, but for as much as he enjoyed playing the game; he was not a stupid man.  His time here was up and he knew there was a very high probability that he would never see Denver again.  He focused on the unsettling green eyes that now haunted his dreams, chasing him around every turn.  If he ever did return, Clark knew for certain what game he wanted to play.  He wanted a rematch.

************

The End
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