Disclaimer: We do not own or pretend to own any of the following actors or their portrayls of the Magnificent Seven, however we do lay claim to the characters we have created: Trayven and Ethan Mackalister, Jack Sloan, Davis Mackalister, and Lawrence Freeman.

Rating: R for violence and language

Authors Note: Cass and I want to thank Marla 'May' for being such a great beta, however any mistakes after a certain part are our own, considering we finished it up ourselves. We are starting an original series called 4 Justice, in which the characters we have created here are the main players. If you like them, than stay tuned for the stories to follow. We hope you enjoy the following episode!! ;-)

Special Guest Stars:

Martin Cummins as Trayven Mackalister,

Keanu Reeves as Ethan Mackalister,

Malcolm Jamal Warner as Victor Boone,

also starring Louis Gossett Jr. as Lawrence Freeman and Matthew Lawrence as Jack Sloan

"Dear Lord," Ezra Standish grumbled as he waited impatiently behind his fellow teammate and friend Vin Tanner. "I should have known better than to let him go first."

"He is ordering for Chris and Josiah too, Ez." JD Dunne replied to his friend, as he finally managed to relieve himself of the tie that had been driving him nuts all morning.

The southerner frowned at the young dark -haired man. "No, 'I' am acquiring Mr. Sanchez's meal along with Nathan's. Mr. Tanner is merely ordering his usual feast."

JD grinned. "I forgot you lost that bet with Josiah and Nate."

"Lose is not the term I would use, my dear boy. I merely miscalculated odds and allowed someone's optimistic evaluation of a team's potential to sway my better judgment."

"Florida was simply outplayed, Ez. It wasn't exactly Buck's fault. Besides, since when does he know anything about basketball. He only watches it to see the cheerleaders."

"Speaking of Mr. Wilmington," Standish let his green eyes scan the crowded diner, "where did our esteemed colleague wonder off to. We have to be back in court in less than an hour and Mr. Larabee did put me in charge of returning the two of you back in time."

"We don't need a baby-sitter, Ez." JD glanced towards the back of the restaurant and noted with some amusement that his best friend was at one of the far booths talking with a group of women in business suits. * At least, I don't need a baby sitter. * "I think he's busy discussing the case."

Ezra followed JD's gaze and groaned. "Aren't those some of the attorneys from the Civil Liberties Union? I dare say that Judge Travis would be highly opposed to our exuberant comrade quoting any details of our part in this matter."

JD laughed. "Shoot, Ez, the only thing Buck's going to be quotin' to those ladies is Shakespeare."

"Your turn," Vin Tanner's slow drawl broke Standish's focus on their other partner and he pinned the lanky sharpshooter with a frustrated glare, "and hurry up, I'm starved."

Ezra stared at his friend for a moment, not missing the hint of mischief dancing behind the twinkling blue eyes. "Is there ever a moment when you are not famished, Vin?"

The lanky Texan seemed to think for a second and then shrugged. "No."

Standish rolled his eyes and mumbled something about Wilmington and Tanner being ruled by bodily organs other than their brains, before finally approaching Mr. Gallapagos, the café's owner.

Frank Gallapagos had come to America from Greece fifty years ago when he was just a boy with his father, mother, and five sisters. Ezra knew this because the old man insisted on giving all his customers a short history lesson while they were waiting for their order.

And waiting was something the patrons of Athena's had to get use to.

The small and very popular diner was the only restaurant within 5 blocks of the federal courthouse and drew some of the most prestigious clientele in Denver. Unfortunately, its size and lack of staff made for crowded quarters and long lapses of time in the presentation of its culinary delights.

The little stone building with the large statues of Greek gods and goddesses adding to its quaint charm reminded Standish of a strange twist on the all-American truck stops that he had avoided most of his life. Its resemblance to a diner he had once had the misfortune of eating at in a little town called Bowie always gave him a chill. In fact, if it had been up to Ezra, his team would have merely driven to a more acceptable location, or fasted until they're duties in the high profile trial had been concluded. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.

"Mr. Standish," Frank greeted, the pleasure of remembering the young man's name evident on his weathered face, "can I talk you into our lunch special? Mercury's barbecued wings with a side of Poseidon-cress salad. Or perhaps a Herc burger and fries?"

It was obvious that the restaurant owner took great pride in learning all his regular customers' names, and Ezra forced a smile of his own before replying. "I'll take two of those specials for my associates, sir. A Greek salad and mineral water will suffice for myself."

"You are not as adventurous as your friends, Mr. Standish? I worry that you might fall into a rut if you stay so predictable."

"I assure you, sir. It is quite impossible for me to fall victim to conformity. The mere associations I maintain prohibit that."

Frank laughed like he always did when Ezra would give him the same answer each time he presented that very same comment, or a similar one. "You know, Mr. Standish, I have five lovely unmarried daughters any one of which would make a fine wife for such an educated gentleman as yourself."

Ezra cringed as he heard JD snicker from behind him. Mr. Gallapagos was also famous for his tenacity when it came to fixing up his lovely daughters. Although the fair ladies of the Galapagos family had a certain amount of charm, they were rather unrefined for Ezra's taste. Although, the thought of introducing one of them to Maude did bring a slight smile to his face.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Gallapagos, I am very married to my job at this current moment in my life."

The silver-haired man scoffed and waved his hand in the air. "This is the same thing that your friends say. Well, except for Cupid back there," Frank nodded towards Buck, who had the entire back booth of women laughing, "who no doubt would like to do many things to my babies, but none of which would involve a legal commitment."

"You are a very wise man, sir," Ezra grinned at the restaurant owner as Frank passed his order to him.

"As are you, Mr. Standish. Someday, I'm sure you will realize that family is more important than work."

"Come on, Ez, hurry up," JD urged the southerner and Standish cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the exuberant youth, before facing Frank again.

"I'm already quite aware of that fact, Mr. Gallapagos. More than you may know, sir."

The café owner merely grunted an unrecognizable reply and waved the agent away so that he could attend to JD.

As he turned to leave the counter, Ezra heard his young teammate launch into the long list of items he undoubtedly intended on sharing with Wilmington.

However, he was more focused on what JD was saying than where he was going, and collided with large black man standing behind him.

"Watch it!"

Ezra easily steadied himself and glanced coolly up at the gentleman who towered above him. "Excuse me." The ATF agent forced a smile, but his glinting green eyes betrayed his irritation. "It seems this area is too small for the lot of us."

Standish appraised the guy, taking in the worn leather jacket that tightly hugged the muscular form as if it hadn't been adorned in many years, or was bought in the wrong size to begin with. A black T-shirt with a large white X emblazoned on it shone from underneath and several gold chains topped off the ensemble.

He wasn't the only one taking stock.

A brown gazed swept the southerner's form, and the man snorted in disgust as he observed the designer suit and silk tie that Standish had chosen for his appearance in court. "There never is enough room for people like you."

"Come on, Boone, cut him some slack. We just came here to eat. Remember?" A slightly smaller, Caucasian dark-haired man placed a firm grip on the other man's arm.

Ezra noted that the sidekick was probably around Vin's age, maybe a little younger. He was dressed in torn jeans and an Eddie Van Halen T-shirt. He had green eyes, a slight five o'clock shadow, and a quick smile that gave him the look of one of the guys from a GAP commercial.

"I thought you were hungry?" The younger man tried again and this time Boone backed away from Standish.

"I am." With one last glance in the ATF agent's direction, the black man turned and allowed himself to be directed towards the counter.

"Problem?" Vin asked as he suddenly appeared at Ezra's side. "Or are you just making friends again in your usual style?"

Before answering his partner, Standish let his eyes linger a second longer on the two men now talking to Frank. "Perhaps...."

"Perhaps what?" Vin asked, waving his hand in front of Ezra to get his attention.

The southerner finally looked in his direction. "That 'gentleman' was armed." Green eyes met blue ones. "I saw his shoulder holster when his acquaintance disturbed his coat."

Tanner casually glanced to the young dark-haired man. "Looks like Van Halen could be packing some ankle weight."

"Do you think we should inquire about their intentions?"

A slight grin tugged at the corner of the sharpshooter's mouth. Maybe this day in court wasn't going to be as boring as he thought. "What'd you have in mind?"

*********

JD carefully made his way through the crowd of people waiting for to-go orders at the front of Athena's and headed towards the back where small booths lined the large windows looking out at Main Street.

He smiled and nodded to Judge Sims and DA Helms, who were seated at one of the tables along the opposite wall, and continued on to where Buck was sitting.

"Buck, we're ready to go." JD glanced briefly at the company his best friend was keeping but then focused on the mustached agent who was regaling his audience with some exaggerated tale of intrigue.

"In a minute, kid."

"No. Now, Buck." Dunne punched his roommate on the shoulder. "We've got to be back in court in thirty minutes and I am not explaining to Chris where you are."

"You better listen to the Boy Wonder, 'Batman'." Sam Heddrick, a fellow ATF agent sitting at the booth behind Buck's turned around and grinned at JD. "Wouldn't want Larabee pissed at the Dynamic Duo, now would we?"

Buck rolled his eyes. He wondered if he and JD would ever shake the moniker that a misfortunate run in with a small flying rodent had tagged them with. "Cute, Sam." Wilmington smiled. "You planning on takin' that comedy routine on the road? You might ought to consider it seeing as how you are reaching that retirement age."

Sam's partner Neil laughed at the sour look that came across Heddrick's face, but then locked gazes with JD. "JD, son, did Buck really take down four gunmen and manage to save two hostages from a burning building last week?"

Buck flinched slightly when he realized that the other two agents had apparently been eavesdropping on his exaggerated conversation with the lovely ladies.

Dunne shrugged, catching his roommate's eye for a moment before replying. "Nah, I think it was only 3 gunmen," the young man winked at Buck, "but, there were 4 hostages. One of them was a little girl."

The women at the table started whispering amongst themselves and Wilmington stood up, throwing an arm around his partner's shoulders. He grinned at Sam and Neil. "Did you boys actually doubt me?" Buck feigned a look of hurt. "Did you honestly think I'd lie to these fine women?"

"I 'still' doubt you, Buck." Sam also stood, shaking his head. "The kid probably thinks you can leap buildings in a single bound."

Buck laughed as he stepped back to allow the women out of the booth. They were leaving also, and one of them; a tall redhead assigned to the DAs office, handed Wilmington a piece of paper with her number on it as she brushed past him.

Wilmington watched them walk away for a moment and then held up the note as if it were a prize. "Seems JD's not the only one who recognizes a 'Super Man' when he sees one."

Dunne groaned and elbowed the other agent in the side, as he slipped from under his big brother's grasp. "Give me a break, Buck," he mumbled, starting for the door also. "Mighty Mouse had better moves than you."

Neil chuckled and slapped Buck roughly on the back. "All you need is a cape, Wilmington, and you'd be Denver's resident super hero."

"It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it," Buck replied, rubbing his side where the kid had hit him.

Neil snorted a rude reply and followed after JD. Sam fell in step beside Buck and gave him a questioning look. "So, 'Super Stud' , how's the Freeman trial going?"

**********

JD hadn't noticed the four men entering Athena's, instead he was busy trying to ignore the teasing that Neil Harris was hell bent on inflicting upon him.

It wasn't that he was not use to the good-natured antics of many of the older ATF agents that he worked with. No, he'd already had three years to deal with it. For the most part, he was respected by his peers and held in high regard by the other agents that his team dealt with on a daily basis. However, being one of the youngest men ever assigned to the Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearm division was tough. Looking even younger than his years sure didn't help, either.

But JD had more than proven himself worthy of wearing a badge, and being hand-picked by the revered Chris Larabee and mentored by Buck Wilmington hadn't hurt his standing either. Hell, Buck and Chris were like the Butch Cassidy and Sundance of law enforcement, and Dunne wasn't the only one who thought they were modern day heroes. In fact, his whole team had become a legend. The Magnificent Seven were his family, and any amount of ribbing he had to endure was worth remaining with them.

Still, JD couldn't help but wish that he was about ten years older and a foot taller.

"So, kid, when are you going to have time to come and check out that computer
problem that I was telling you about the other day?"

Dunne was more than relieved when Neil finally dropped the 'bat' incident and asked him a legitimate question. If nothing else, JD's computer expertise was one area in which none of Denver's other federal agents could compete and, it was this skill in particular that commanded unchallenged respect and admiration from his fellow agents.

The kid stopped not too far from the front door and grinned at the other man.

"When are you and Sam going to let up on Buck about the Batman thing?"

"Come on, son. You have to admit a dozen plastic bats hanging from the ceiling over his desk was funny. And that 'bat' signal that Haney rigged up, well, that was classic cop humor, son."

JD continued to stare at the man, his grin looking much too similar to Larabee's for Neil's comfort. "You know, Neil, a 'simple' computer problem can cause a lot of confusion. Heck, I've seen people lose years of case files and even have their bank account so messed up that it would take five good accountants a solid year to unscramble it." Dunne raked a hand through his dark hair. "I sure hope your problem isn't anything like that."

Neil's smile faded some and he began to wonder if it was a coincidence that his system had started giving him trouble at about the same time that he and Sam had begun to harass Wilmington.

After all, the two had given the fun-loving agent a hell of a hard time, choosing not to bother JD too much, because, well, they knew better. Buck was hard to rile, but picking on Dunne was definitely one way to do it. Not to mention the fact that messing with JD would bring down the wrath of Tanner and Standish as well; two adversaries who were also very dangerous pranksters, especially when they got together.

Neil was about to voice his concern and try to call a truce, when a shout from the doorway had him instinctively reaching for his sidearm.

********

Wilmington had just begun to tell Sam exactly how pissed he and the rest of Team Seven were about being cooped up in a courtroom, when something grabbed his attention.

He wasn't sure if it was the jingle of the bells attached to the front door of the restaurant as the ladies he'd been sitting with exited, or the entrance of four men dressed in black suits.

A sudden chill ran over him and he stopped in his tracks. He instinctively searched out JD and found him not more than ten feet in front of him, still talking with Neil. His eyes went back to the door.

Men in suits were a common sight at Athena's, but Buck had seen suits like those one other time. Top quality linen, fashionable and high dollar enough for Ezra's taste, black in color from the shirt underneath to the tie and matching duster coats.

Coats that were long enough and bulky enough to hide almost any type of weapon.

Shit.

Malcom Freeman's henchmen had worn the exact same clothing.

A little voice inside the veteran lawman's head shouted a warning, but before Buck could force any words past the lump in his throat all hell broke loose.

Oh God.

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

"Everyone on the floor! Get down. Now!"

Ezra Standish had been expecting those words, or a similar phrase ever since he had ran into the man he knew as Boone. The uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach had continued to grow as he and Vin had 'casually' surveyed both Boone and his friend, with the poor taste in music. So, when the threatening shout came from the 'front' of the diner, instead of the bar where both suspects stood, both he and Tanner had been caught off guard.

Vin whirled to face the finely dressed men at the entrance of Athena's and caught Van Halen's movement out of the corner of his eye. The man moved with the lightning fast reflexes of a pro, to retrieve a gun from the back of his waistband, but had missed the actions that were taking place behind him.

His friend hadn't, however. The guy who had plowed into Ezra was now also reaching for his weapon, the very one that had tipped Standish off to begin with, and was preparing to aim it at a guy in an apron, who had now slipped in behind the cash register.

Unfortunately, the southern undercover agent wasn't clear as to what was going on. He was still running on the assumption that Boone was not on the right playing field, so when he saw him raise a 9mm and aim it at the redheaded fry cook, who had just shoved Mr. Gallapagos out of the line of fire and onto the floor, he did the only thing he could do.

Ezra hadn't seen that Van Halen was in trouble. He didn't understand that Boone was trying to save his friend's life. No, he only reacted on what little information he had.

With one swift move he knocked the gun from the black man's hand and delivered a right cross to the would be accomplice's face. Standish might not be able to touch the five men who'd entered the front of the building, but he could at least take out their hired help. It was the most he could do, seeing as how he had no weapon of his own.

Tanner knew exactly what his partner was thinking. He'd thought the very same thing up until the moment he'd seen Van Halen pull his gun. It was a move he recognized. It was something a cop would do. A cop who was now in the direct line of fire and with no one to save him.

Except for Vin.

*********

Part 2