Silent Memories
It happened instantaneously. One moment they were rushing toward the warehouse, intent on rounding up the arms dealer and his men, and the next, they were flat on their backs and the warehouse was a glowing ball of fire.
Buck was the first to come to his senses. He sat up, rubbing his head and blinking his eyes to clear his vision. He stared dumbly at the flaming building, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. A sudden fear gripped him and he jumped to his feet, swaying for a moment before taking off at a run, yelling at the top of his voice, “Ezra!”
– twenty minutes earlier –
Ezra strolled confidently into the cavernous room, looking every inch the slick gun buyer he was portraying. The undercover assignment had gone smoothly from the start and it hadn’t taken him long to connect with Victor Pollard, a well-known weapons merchant that the ATF had been after for several years. Vin, in his usual role as bodyguard, walked calmly by his side, armed to the teeth and ready to take down some bad guys.
Pollard walked forward to greet them, a wide smile on his ruddy face. He was a large man, with a build that had probably once been strong and firm, but that was now soft and sagging due to years of overindulgence in the luxuries his illegal income afforded. “Edward! So good to see you!”
“Victor,” Ezra greeted him, plastering a smile on his face despite his disgust at having to deal with such a low-life. Pollard might have been in the upper echelons of arms dealers, but to Ezra, he was no better than any other common criminal.
“Shall we get down to business?” Pollard inquired, glancing greedily at the briefcase Ezra was carrying.
“Of course.” Ezra gestured elegantly for him to lead the way.
“This way,” Pollard said, directing them toward a stack of wooden crates. One of his men removed some weapons and placed them on top of one of the crates.
“Kevin,” Ezra said, indicating that Vin should check out the merchandise.
Vin nodded and began inspecting the guns while Pollard’s men warily watched. A few minutes later, he gave a short nod to Ezra, who smiled and turned back to Pollard.
“Is everything acceptable?” Pollard asked, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice.
“Kevin is satisfied with the quality of the product,” Ezra said, “so it appears we may complete the transaction.”
“He seems to know his way around guns,” Pollard observed with a smile.
“He wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard if he didn’t,” Ezra commented with a chuckle. “I believe you’ll find the agreed-upon amount here.” He handed the briefcase to the gun dealer, who opened it and began to rapidly count the contents. “May I begin loading?”
“Of course,” Pollard agreed, relaxing now that it appeared he was getting the required amount of compensation.
“Bring the truck around, Kevin,” Ezra said, nodding to Vin, who turned and strode out the door, a faint grin playing on his face. This was his signal to bring in the rest of the agents who were waiting outside. The operation couldn’t have gone any better. The smile broadened into a grin as he jogged toward his teammates and waved them in.
Inside, Ezra edged casually toward the door, in order to prevent any of the suspects from escaping in the coming confusion. As he stepped around a collection of wooden crates, his world suddenly disappeared in a blast of noise and heat. He flew through the air, crashing into a stack of cardboard boxes, which tumbled around him like a pile of wooden blocks being swept aside by a petulant child. Dazed, Ezra lifted his head, searching for the source of the explosion. His eyes locked on the figure of Victor Pollard, screaming as fire engulfed his body. The gun merchant waved his arms wildly in a macabre death dance, trying in vain to put out the flames. The stench of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils and the screams flooded his mind, but Ezra could not turn away. His horrified gaze remained fixed on the flaming body until the smoke finally overwhelmed him and everything faded into blackness.
The night was filled with flashing lights and a cacophony of sirens. The fire department had arrived in time to prevent any of the stunned members of Team Seven and Team Four from entering the building, much to their dismay. They were men of action, not content to sit helplessly and wait while one of their own remained trapped inside. But this time, they had no choice. Paramedics had tried to convince them to go to the hospital and get checked out, but other than Vin, who had been knocked unconscious by the force of the blast, they had all refused. They weren’t leaving until they knew the fate of their seventh.
The firefighters gave the grim-looking men a wide berth, understanding the reason for their behavior. The warehouse was fully engulfed in flames and the fire crew didn’t believe that there would be any good news this night. But still the men waited, silent and unmoving, hoping for the best.
A flurry of activity erupted near one of the doors as a group of firefighters hurried away from the burning structure, dragging something between them. Their expressions remained unchanged, but the men of Team Seven stepped forward, watching intently as paramedics swarmed around the group and ushered them toward the waiting ambulances.
The fire captain approached the ATF agents, instinctively identifying Larabee as the leader. “We found one person alive inside, along with four dead.” He eyed the silent men around him. “Give the EMT’s a couple of minutes to stabilize him and then you can see if he’s your man.”
Larabee nodded once, never looking away from the medics.
“Thank you,” Nathan said absently, briefly meeting the fireman’s eyes.
The captain walked away, not offended by the lack of response. He had dealt with such men before. They were hard men, not prone to wasting words and emotions on an unknown situation. Even the youngest agent, though he looked like he still belonged in high school, shared the same cool, impassive demeanor. The captain was not fooled by the blank expressions. He knew just how much emotion boiled beneath the surface. He felt it himself, every time his own men went into a burning building. There was nothing to do for it but wait... and pray.
Eyes still stinging from the smoke, Chris Larabee stared at the clustered emergency personnel, hoping for a glimpse of the man who was keeping them so busy. The building crackled and hissed, seeming almost alive, blowing its torrid breath toward them. But Chris – and the men standing mutely beside him – barely noticed.
It was hard to express the horror that had raced through him when he saw the building explode. Images of another fire flashed through his mind and Chris had to make a conscious effort to force them out. He was aware of the concerned glances Buck had sent his way, and had reassured his old friend with a nod. He had his emotions under control – for now.
It seemed like they had been waiting forever when the paramedics finally waved to them. As one, Team Seven walked toward them, their stride confident and determined. Team Four followed at a discreet distance, ready to provide moral support, if needed. Their pace slowed as they drew closer, until they finally stopped a few feet away from the lone survivor.
“Ezra,” Chris breathed, his shoulders sagging with relief at the sight of his undercover agent being tended by the paramedics. “How is he?”
“He’s got some burns and took in some smoke, but he’s stable, for the moment,” one of the medics said, sparing him a brief glance. “He’s damned lucky to be alive.”
The agents watched silently as Ezra was loaded into the ambulance. Chris climbed into the back with him, while the rest of the team hurried to their vehicles to follow them to the hospital.
Leaning against the side wall, Chris stared down at his agent, wincing at the reddened skin he could see peeking out from under the bandages on his hands and face. Ezra lay unnaturally still, an oxygen mask covering most of the visible portion of his face. Chris watched his chest rise and fall with each breath and marveled at the suave agent’s ability to cheat death. He approached each mission like a game of cards, plotting his strategy and exploiting his opponents’ weaknesses, always managing to pull an ace out of his sleeve, even when things went sour. But this was one poker game the devil wasn’t going to win. Chris chuckled aloud at that thought, earning a raised eyebrow from the attending EMT. Chris shook his head. Only Ezra could have him thinking in gambling terms.
“When are they gonna let us see him?” Buck complained as he paced the waiting room.
“Relax, brother,” Josiah said soothingly. “It’s only been an hour.”
“But they said he was all right,” JD protested, his voice hoarse from the smoke he had inhaled.
“It always takes them a while to get everything set up,” Nathan reassured them. “Hell, the blood tests alone can take hours.”
“What about Vin?” JD persisted. “He’s been here longer than Ez and we haven’t seen him yet, either.”
“Relax, JD,” Chris said. “I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”
As if responding to his words, the doctor strode into the waiting room a moment later. “Mr. Larabee?” He scanned the formidable-looking group of men who reeked of smoke.
“Yes?” Chris answered his query.
“I’m Dr. Franklin,” he said, shaking Chris’s hand. “You’re here for Vin Tanner?”
“Yes,” Chris replied. “How is he?”
“He has a severe concussion and some bruised ribs,” the doctor began. “There doesn’t appear to be any damage to the skull, but we’re keeping him in ICU until he regains consciousness and we can run some more tests.”
“So he’ll be all right?” Chris asked.
“He should be fine,” Dr. Franklin answered with a smile.
Chris looked to Nathan, who nodded in confirmation. A chorus of relieved sighs rippled through the assembled men.
“When can we see him?” asked Buck.
“We can only allow two visitors at a time in ICU,” the doctor warned, “but there’s no reason why you can’t see him right now.”
Chris nudged Buck. “Why don’t you and JD go first?”
Buck smiled, knowing that Chris was giving him something to occupy him and JD, to help ease their worries over their friends. “C’mon, kid.” He slung an arm around JD’s shoulders. “Lets go see Vin.”
As they headed down the hall, Chris turned back to the doctor. “We’re still waiting for word on my other man, Ezra Standish.”
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Dr. Franklin said, nodding at Chris before he left the waiting room.
Awareness returned all at once. Ezra’s eyes snapped open and darted wildly about the room as he tried to determine where he was. A strong antiseptic odor made his nose twitch and gave him a clue to his location. He was, unfortunately, all too familiar with the sights and smells of the hospital. He relaxed into the pillows, blinking to dissipate the blurriness from his vision as he looked around the brightly lit room that was bustling with activity. From what he could see, Ezra surmised that he was in the emergency room, lying in one of the curtained cubicles that gave the illusion of privacy. He was feeling somewhat lightheaded and concluded that he had probably been given some sort of drugs. With a sigh, he searched his memory, trying to remember what had brought him here this time.
A vision of fire and pain flooded his mind and Ezra gasped at the intensity of it. An explosion. The warehouse had blown up around him. His arms and face felt tight and painful and he hoped that the damage wasn’t as bad as it felt. He looked around, hoping for some sign of his teammates. He didn’t remember seeing them before the explosion, but he had no idea how close they had been to the building when it exploded.
As Ezra scanned his surroundings, it suddenly struck him that it was strangely quiet. Doctors and nurses were moving around and talking, but he couldn’t hear them. He looked to the side, staring at the heart monitor that usually annoyed the hell out of him with its endless beeping. It, too, was silent. Heart rate increasing, Ezra looked around again, hoping for some explanation, but everything appeared as it should. Apprehensively, he lifted his bandaged hand and knocked it against the metal rail of his bed. Nothing. He repeated the action and still didn’t hear the reassuring metallic ping that should have resulted. Ezra closed his eyes. Not again.
When he opened his eyes again, he was looking into the concerned face of a nurse. She was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Blinking, he focused on her mouth.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Like I’ve been blown up,” Ezra answered carefully, watching her face for a response. Relief flooded him when she smiled at him. He hadn’t lost his touch. He could still read lips accurately. While he couldn’t make out every word that was spoken to him, his ability was good enough to allow him to figure out what was being said to him, even if he did miss an occasional word or two.
“The doctor will be right in to see you,” she said, patting his shoulder gently.
He nodded and watched her leave. A few minutes later, the doctor arrived and he had to stifle a smile at the look on her face. “Hello, Dr. Landry.”
“Agent Standish,” she said, looking at him disapprovingly. “We really must stop meeting like this.”
“I do try, Doctor,” Ezra said, giving her a pained grin.
“Not hard enough, apparently,” she said with a wry smile.
“So how am I?”
“Not too bad, considering,” she said, looking over his chart. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts some,” he admitted after a moment of consideration. He knew he should be feeling some pain in his hands and face, but whatever medication they had given him was working very well, as all he could feel was a tingling numbness in the injured areas.
“You’ve got yourself a bit of a concussion,” the doctor explained, lifting one of his hands. “There are some first and second degree burns on your hands and face, but nothing too serious. They aren’t bad enough to scar, but they will be somewhat painful. I’ll be giving you some strong medication to take care of that.” She gave him a serious look. “It will take you longer to recover if you make yourself suffer needlessly, so I expect you to take them as directed.”
He nodded at her, wishing she didn’t know him so well.
“The cracked ribs are the worst of it,” she continued, “but they should be fine if you follow your doctor’s instructions and rest.”
“I’ve had broken ribs before,” Ezra said, smiling at the stern look with which she favored him. He knew his attitude irritated her, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Standish,” Dr. Landry said. “I’m also aware of how well you usually follow doctor’s orders.” She lifted an eyebrow, daring him to contradict her.
He gave her a look that said, “Who, me?”
Dr. Landry sighed in exasperation, then turned to him seriously, “Is there anything else bothering you? Any other pain?”
“My ears are ringing a bit,” Ezra said after a moment, not wanting to admit too much just yet.
Dr. Landry lifted the otoscope from the wall near the bed and peered into his ears, scowling faintly. She put the instrument away then turned to him. “There’s a bit of inflammation, but the eardrums appear to be intact. It’s probably an aftereffect of the explosion. It ought to clear up in a few days.”
Ezra smiled and hoped she was right. He had been told that before, only it had taken much more than a few days. Ezra sighed inwardly. He debated telling Dr. Landry the truth, but then decided against it. He might be able to pull this off. If it were discovered that he couldn’t hear, he would be forced to remain in the hospital, and this was the last place he wanted to be. His teammates would also hound him endlessly if they found out, and would drive him crazy with their concern. The only alternative was to pretend all was well and hope that things soon returned to normal. If they didn’t... well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
“When may I leave?”
Dr. Landry shook her head in resignation. She knew how this man felt about hospitals, and while she would have liked to keep him here for a few days, she knew he would never stand for it. His teammates would surely be keeping a close eye on him, so, in the interest of her own sanity, she decided to let him have his way, this time. “I don’t think we’ll need to keep you here.” She raised a hand and eyed him sternly. “But, I want you to stay with someone tonight and promise me you’ll come back if you have any other symptoms.”
“You have my word,” Ezra said, relieved that his deception had worked.
“Good,” she said with a smile. “Now, I believe that there are some very anxious men waiting to see you.”
Ezra sucked in a breath. How could he have forgotten? In his worry over his own condition, he had forgotten all about his teammates. “They’re all right?”
Dr. Landry nodded. “Mr. Tanner has a concussion, but the rest of your friends are fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Ezra said, chuckling inwardly at the irony of that statement, given the current state of his hearing. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied. “Now how about I send them in while I get your paperwork ready?”
Ezra nodded as she turned away. His head hurt, but he was going to have to concentrate in order to prevent his associates from discovering his deafness. He could read lips, but it was more difficult when there was more than one person speaking to him. It had also been a lot of years since he had exercised this skill in a serious fashion. Unbidden, the memories returned.
Eight-year-old Ezra Standish was feeling quite pleased with himself. He had finally beaten his older cousins at their own game. All summer long, eleven-year-old Jeremy and thirteen-year-old Robbie had delighted in tormenting, teasing, and playing tricks on him, and getting him into trouble with his aunt and uncle. Now, though, he gotten his retribution. As he rode the small, rusty bicycle that they had allowed him to use, Ezra smiled to himself in satisfaction at what he had accomplished.
Two weeks earlier, Robbie and Jeremy had gotten him in trouble yet again. Jeremy had accidentally broken his mother’s favorite antique bowl and Robbie had called to Ezra for help. Foolishly, Ezra had fallen for it, believing that Jeremy was injured. He had raced into the living room only to be tripped by Robbie, who had timed his move perfectly. He and Jeremy escaped the parlor just in time to avoid their mother, who arrived home to find Ezra sitting amidst the broken china.
His aunt had been furious and had not allowed him to explain, claiming that he was only trying to pass the blame onto the other boys to avoid being punished. His uncle had been equally furious and had expressed it in a painful session with his belt. Ezra had been restricted to his room for the week and had used his confinement to plot his revenge. He was his mother’s son, after all, and he was going to make sure his cousins paid for what they had done.
Ezra laughed aloud, remembering the looks on the older boys’ faces when their father had found his expensive power tools scattered around the garage, with a half-finished go-cart sitting off to the side. Robbie and Jeremy had been working on plans for the cart with their father, hoping to build it before summer’s end, but the man hadn’t yet had the time to work on it with them. Ezra knew they were forbidden to use the tools without supervision and had devised his plan accordingly. While they had been playing at the nearby lake, he had sneaked into the garage and proceeded to start building their go-cart. His aunt was out shopping and his uncle at work, so there was no one around to hear him while he set his plan into motion.
Pedaling his bicycle up the dirt road toward the house, Ezra wondered how long it would take for his cousins to cook up a suitable payback. They had been grounded for two weeks, so he still had most of that time to enjoy his success. They knew he was responsible and had tried to tell their father that, but he didn’t believe that an eight-year-old was capable of understanding the plans, let alone handling the tools needed to build the cart. The fact that Ezra was a bit small for his age and was often clumsy when faced with manual tasks only supported his disbelief of their claims.
As he drew nearer the big farmhouse, Ezra steeled himself for the dirty looks he was sure to receive during dinner. His cousins were still angry with him and had been sending him looks that promised revenge whenever he was nearby. He hated having such an adversarial relationship with them, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything he had done to incite such behavior. Ezra sighed, wondering if he would ever feel welcome anywhere.
Ezra brought his bicycle to a stop next to the house and wheeled it slowly toward the garage. He was still a few minutes early for dinner, and was in no rush to get inside. He had just set foot on the first step of the porch when he heard the screams. His first instinct was to turn and run, but he forced himself to continue up the stairs. Apprehensively, he tiptoed across the porch and peered through the kitchen window. His heart caught in his throat at the sight of his cousins, tied up and bleeding on the floor, their eyes wide with fear. He didn’t see his aunt, but he heard her screams and tearful pleas and saw a large, scruffy-looking man yelling and pacing around the room. From the sounds he heard, there was another man out of his sight, beating his aunt.
Ezra drew back, his heart pounding in terror. What was he going to do? The house was located in a rural town that consisted of many small farms and nearest neighbor was quite a distance away. There was also no guarantee that anyone would be home, even if he could make it there before his aunt and cousins were killed. He thought quickly and decided that his only option was to get inside to a telephone. His uncle was a police officer in a small nearby city; he would know what to do.
Silently, Ezra crept around the back of the house. There was a telephone in the master bedroom, which was on the ground floor at the back of the house. Since he didn’t dare use the back door, he made his way toward one of the open master bedroom windows. The house was not air-conditioned, so his aunt usually left windows open in most of the rooms. Ezra stretched toward the window, but he wasn’t quite tall enough to pull the external screen out of the way. He looked around wildly, then remembered his bicycle.
Keeping low and close to the house, Ezra hurried back to the garage and quietly wheeled the bike around. He leaned it against the house, under the window, making sure it was steady before climbing onto it. Ezra stood carefully on the seat, praying that the bike wouldn’t move as he gently removed the screen and pushed the window up far enough for him to crawl through.
As quickly as he dared, Ezra squeezed his slim body through the gap in the window. He landed with a slight thump and sucked in a breath as he waited anxiously to see if he had been heard. After a few interminable minutes, there was no indication that anyone had noticed his presence, so Ezra moved quickly to the telephone, nearly dropping the receiver from his trembling hand when he lifted it from the cradle. Rapidly, he dialed the police, clenching and unclenching his fist nervously as he waited. Finally, he was put through to someone and quickly explained the situation.
Ezra replaced the receiver and looked around the room uneasily. The police officer with whom he had spoken had told him to get out of the house if he could, so he made his way back to the window and started climbing out. He set his foot carefully on the bicycle seat and slid the rest of his body out the window. As he placed his other foot on the seat, the bicycle suddenly rolled sideways and with a gasp, Ezra tumbled to the ground.
A cry of pain escaped him as he fell, landing hard on his left arm. The bicycle rolled away and fell over with a crash. As Ezra was struggling to his feet, a large man wearing dirty blue jeans and a frayed flannel shirt barreled around the corner, stopping short at the sight of the small boy on the ground who stared up at him with wide, terror-filled eyes. With a growl, the man grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, ignoring his cries of pain as he dragged him into the house.
Ezra did his best to keep up with the man, but he couldn’t match the tall man’s long strides. Inside, the man shoved him into the kitchen, throwing him across the floor, where he slid into the wall.
“Found him outside,” the man growled to his associate, an equally filthy man with a heavy beard and several missing teeth.
“What’re you doin’ here, kid?” the bearded man asked Ezra, grabbing him by the hair.
Ezra swallowed, attempting to calm his racing heart. As frightened as he was, he knew the police were on their way and that he needed to do whatever possible to keep himself safe. “J-Jeremy goes to m-my school. I was j-just coming over t-to play.” His eyes darted to his cousin, who was staring at him blankly, too numb with fear to comprehend anything.
“Is that right?” the bearded man said with a grin. “Your bad luck, then, kid. Ya need some better friends.” The two men laughed as though that were very funny.
Ezra chanced a look around the room. His aunt lay on the floor, her clothes torn and covered in blood. It was obvious from the bruises on her and his cousins that these men had been beating them for some time. He swallowed apprehensively, wondering if he was going to be next. But, after a hard kick to his ribs and a warning by the first man to “stay put”, they had ignored him. Ezra curled up into the corner and tried not to watch or listen as the men beat his aunt and cousins mercilessly, muttering about “stupid cops” and “teaching them to mess with the McCall brothers.”
It seemed to take forever, but finally the police arrived. The bearded man noticed them first, cursing and shouting, while the other man looked around frantically for a way out.
“What’re we gonna do, Gabe?” the man asked.
“We got hostages, Clem,” the bearded man told his brother. “They ain’t gonna mess wit’ us.”
“But...”
“Don’t worry,” Gabe said. “I’ll handle it.”
Ezra watched, not daring to move, as the two men discussed their escape plans. He heard his uncle’s voice over a bullhorn, demanding that they come out. Ezra sighed inwardly, knowing that the two miscreants were not going to give up so easily.
“We gotta show ‘em we mean business,” Gabe said, his eyes lighting up suddenly as though he had made a great discovery.
Ezra shivered at the look of madness in those eyes.
“Grab that one,” Gabe said, pointing to Jeremy.
Clem complied, pulling Jeremy out of his chair and following his brother out of the house. Robbie watched, sobbing quietly.
Ezra’s aunt stared at them dazedly from the floor, then gasped and pulled herself to her hands and knees, crawling after them. “Jeremy,” she croaked harshly, tears streaming down her face.
“Aunt Helen,” Ezra said in a desperate whisper. “Don’t! They’ll hurt you.”
But she was oblivious to anything but the fact that her son was in the grasp of two very bad men who apparently had a grudge against her husband. She followed them out of the kitchen, pleading weakly with them to release her son.
Clutching his aching arm to his chest, Ezra followed her, peering around the corner toward the front door, where the two men were yelling at the police. His aunt approached them slowly, reaching out to Clem and pleading for her son’s life.
“Get back, bitch,” Gabe snarled, punching her in the face. He turned toward his brother. “Give ‘im to me.” He grabbed Jeremy by the scruff of the neck and stepped into the doorway. “I told you to back off!”
Ezra watched in disbelief as Gabe raised his gun, pointed it at Jeremy’s head, and pulled the trigger. His cousin’s head snapped to the side and blood sprayed the door. Ezra jerked at the loud gunshot, hitting his head on the doorjamb, but his eyes never left the gruesome scene.
Everything was quiet for a moment, then a loud, inhuman wail broke the silence. Horrified, Ezra watched as his aunt screamed and threw herself at Gabe, knocking him and Clem out the front door. Police swarmed around them, taking the men into custody, but still his aunt kept screaming, clutching Jeremy’s limp and bloody body to her chest and giving Ezra a clear view of what had been done to his cousin.
Ezra’s stomach churned and he backed away, shaking his head and repeating softly, “No no no no no no.” Panicking, Ezra looked around the kitchen for a minute before running to one of the cabinets and crawling inside. He wrapped his arms around his head to block out the screams and started rocking, trying to make it all go away.
Ezra sighed and rubbed his temples, wishing he didn’t have such a clear memory of that particular event. The McCall brothers had attacked his uncle’s family as retribution for their brother’s death. His uncle had been forced to kill their younger brother a month earlier while responding to a bank robbery, and they decided that the best revenge was to attack his family in return.
Both of the attackers had been sent to prison for life, but they hadn’t lasted long. Gabe McCall had killed himself just one year into his sentence and his brother had been killed in a fight several years after that. After his cousin Jeremy’s death, his aunt had never been the same, eventually committing suicide two years later, unable to cope with her son’s violent death. Ezra had never heard what became of his uncle and remaining cousin, since his mother refused to talk about “such unpleasant matters.”
Ezra sighed again, remembering how he had spent a week in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder – his first – a mild concussion, and cracked rib. It was his sudden deafness that had baffled everyone, though. He had awakened in the hospital, unable to hear, much as he had done today. Then, it had taken weeks of testing before they had determined that his loss of hearing was psychological rather than physical. According to the doctors, his tendency to keep his emotions bottled up – one result of his life with Maude – had been a major contributor to his psychosomatic deafness. Ezra shook his head. After witnessing such a brutal and gruesome scene, what else did they expect? Even Ezra Standish had limits, and he had been a child, after all.
For eighteen months, he had lived in a world of silence. Maude had been at her wit’s end, unable to deal with a ‘normal’ child, let alone with one who had a handicap. She had packed him off to a special school, where he learned sign language and lip reading, proving to be quite adept at both. He had also sat through twice-weekly sessions with psychiatrists, who diligently attempted to bring him out of the trauma-induced silence. It had been their contention that whatever he had seen or heard at the time of the incident had caused him to shut down his sense of hearing and block the whole thing from his memory.
Ezra snorted. They were right, of course. He hadn’t remembered a thing about the incident until waking up one day screaming and completely able to hear again. He had never talked to anyone about what had happened. It was bad enough that he had witnessed it, without having to relive it for someone else’s benefit. The sound of his aunt’s screams haunted him to this day and it had taken him many years to come to terms with it; it still gave him occasional nightmares. As he took in the silence surrounding him, Ezra wondered if history was repeating itself.
His gloomy reminiscence was interrupted by the boisterous arrival of his teammates. Ezra couldn’t hear them, but he knew they were creating their usual racket as they descended upon his cubicle.
“Gentlemen,” Ezra said with a smile at the men surrounding his bed.
“Geez, you sound awful,” JD said, wincing at the harsh sound of his friend’s voice.
“Really?” Ezra said, noting the scratchiness in his throat for the first time. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Aside from the sore throat, how are you feeling?” Josiah asked.
“I’m quite well, Mr. Sanchez,” he replied. “How is Mr. Tanner?”
“He’s doing all right,” Nathan answered. “He woke up a few minutes ago. Doctor kicked us out to check him over.”
Ezra relaxed back into his pillows, relieved at the news. “That’s wonderful.”
“Ya look like hell, Ez,” Buck commented.
“Thank you, Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra said sarcastically. “You’re not looking so well, yourself.”
Buck frowned and looked down at himself, realizing for the first time that his clothes were still covered in dirt and soot from the explosion.
Ezra chuckled. “All of you gentlemen could use a bath.”
“You saying we stink?” Chris asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“If the shoe fits...” Ezra said, waving his bandaged hand at them.
“We are a bit dusty, brothers,” Josiah said, brushing ineffectually at his dirty clothing.
Buck lowered his head and said something, but Ezra could not see his lips to decipher his words. After a moment, Buck looked up at him curiously. “Ez?”
“Yes, Mr. Wilmington?” Ezra kept his poker face intact, hiding his confusion.
“I asked you when you were getting out of this joint?”
“My apologies,” Ezra said smoothly, covering his momentary lapse. “I was merely contemplating how you now match the state of untidiness of your domicile.”
It took Buck a minute to figure out what Ezra had said, but then his eyes went wide and he scowled at Ezra. “My place ain’t untidy.”
“Well it sure ain’t clean,” Nathan said, smirking in amusement.
Buck frowned and said nothing while JD flushed in embarrassment.
“So when are they letting you out?” Chris asked.
Ezra had opened his mouth to answer when Dr. Landry returned, carrying his release papers. He watched closely, but couldn’t make out much of the conversation she was having with his teammates, since their backs were to him.
Dr. Landry turned to him and said, “You’re all set to go, Mr. Standish.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Ezra said, looking over at his associates, who were watching him suspiciously. “What?”
“You’re not gonna complain about having to stay with Chris?” Nathan said.
Ezra groaned inwardly. Of course. They had been arranging the ‘mother hen duty’ with Dr. Landry. Pasting a smile on his face, he said evenly, “I promised the good doctor I would stay with someone tonight.”
“Like you ever do what the doctor says,” Buck said, rolling his eyes.
Ezra sniffed. “A gentleman does not go back on his word.”
Nathan snorted. “Since when are you a gentleman?”
Ezra gave him a dirty look, but softened it when he saw the teasing glint in the dark man’s eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave now.” Despite his protests, Nathan stayed behind to help him into his clothes. Finally, he was seated in the despised wheelchair, being pushed down the hallway. The painkillers that Dr. Landry had insisted he take before leaving were starting to kick in and Ezra felt himself nodding off as they made their way to the entrance, where Chris was waiting with his truck. He didn’t remember much of the ride to Larabee’s ranch, but soon found himself being helped into bed. As he drifted off to sleep, Ezra had one fleeting thought. What if it took another eighteen months for his hearing to return?
“Damn! No wonder he’s always late,” Buck remarked. “Man sleeps like the dead.”
“No kidding,” Chris said, looking at his undercover agent, who was still sound asleep despite their loud attempts to wake him.
“Those painkillers are pretty strong, Chris,” Nathan said. “He’ll probably be out of it for a while.”
“I thought we were supposed to wake him to check on the concussion?” Chris said doubtfully.
“Give him a couple more hours,” Nathan suggested. “The pills should have worn off by then. Heck, the pain’ll probably wake him up.”
“That bad?” Chris asked, eyeing the man in the bed with concern.
“Burns hurt like hell, even the minor ones,” Nathan said with a shrug.
“Shit, that means he’s gonna be more ornery than usual,” Buck said, looking at Ezra with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. He hated seeing his friends in pain.
“Probably not,” Vin said, coming up behind them. “The more it hurts, the less he complains.”
“What are you doing out of bed?” Nathan demanded, glowering at the sharpshooter, who had been released several hours after Chris had left the hospital with Ezra. The doctors had wanted to keep him there for another day or two, but he had put up such a fuss that the rest of the team had secured his release and brought him out to Larabee’s ranch. None of the men wanted to admit it, but they needed to be together to reassure themselves that their family was still intact.
“I’m fine, Nate,” Vin said crossly. “Had to go to the bathroom. Wanted to check on Ez.”
“He’s still sleepin’,” Buck said, moving aside so that Vin could see him.
Vin grimaced at the sight of all the bandages on his friend. “Damn, he’s wrapped up like a mummy.”
“He’ll be fine,” Nathan assured him. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”
“M’hungry,” Vin said, shrugging out of Nathan’s grasp.
“You sure?” Chris asked doubtfully. “You were puking your guts out all night.”
Vin’s stomach rumbled, as if in answer to the question. The sharpshooter flushed in embarrassment while the other three men laughed.
“Guess that answers your question,” Buck said. “Let’s get Junior somethin’ to eat.”
“Something light,” Nathan insisted. “His stomach ain’t up to heavy foods yet.”
The four agents moved into the kitchen to make breakfast.
“Buck, you’d best get the others up,” Chris said. “We still have to get to work this morning.”
Buck nodded and headed for the living room. Josiah was still snoring on the couch, while JD was curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Rise and shine, boys,” Buck bellowed, nudging JD with his foot.
JD groaned and rolled over, blinking sleepily at his roommate.
“Get movin’, kid,” Buck said cheerily. “Breakfast is gonna be ready soon.”
Mumbling incoherently, JD slowly stood and shuffled toward the bathroom in his stocking feet.
Chuckling, Buck turned to Josiah, who cracked an eye open and looked up at him. “Brother, your face is not what I hoped to see upon awakening.”
Buck laughed. “Have a good dream?”
“Yes,” Josiah growled. “And you sure as hell weren’t in it.” The big man pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his laughing teammate as he lumbered off toward the second bathroom.
“That’s only coffee, Vin,” Chris pointed out, taking in the blissful smile on his friend’s face as he gripped the mug in his hand.
“You’d think it was a beautiful woman, the way he’s lookin’ at it.” Buck said as he took a seat at the table.
“This is almost as good,” Vin said with a happy sigh.
Buck snorted. “You really need to work on your social life, boy.”
“How’s Ez doin’?” JD asked as he entered the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower.
“Still sleeping,” Chris said.
“Yeah, he needs his rest,” JD said, grabbing a plate and spooning some eggs from the pan on the stove. “I’m just glad he wasn’t hurt any worse.”
“Man has more lives than a cat,” Buck said.
“He’s very lucky,” Nathan said. “I saw what was left of Pollard and his men.” He shuddered. “Wasn’t a pretty sight. Ez would’a been just as bad, if those empty boxes that fell on him hadn’t been treated with flame retardant.”
“Is there any word on what exactly caused the explosion?” JD asked between mouthfuls of food.
Chris shrugged. “They were still investigating last night. I expect we’ll hear something today.”
“Might have been an accident,” JD offered. “Gas leak or something.”
“I hope so,” Chris said.
“Why?” Nathan looked at him, confused.
“If it wasn’t an accident, then someone was targeting either us or Pollard,” Chris explained. “Neither possibility makes me feel warm and fuzzy.”
“Shit,” Buck said with a sigh. “Last thing we need is a war between weapons dealers.”
“Or someone out to kill us,” Vin added.
Ezra woke slowly and the first thing that registered was pain. His entire body ached and it felt as though someone was peeling the skin from his arms and face. With a groan, he rolled to his side and attempted to sit without using his hands. It was difficult, and his ribs and back complained loudly at the effort, but he eventually eased himself up. Standing slowly, he headed immediately to the bathroom and the bottle of pain pills that sat on the counter.
He looked in the mirror as he moved to the sink and stopped short at what he saw. His face and neck were swathed in a patchwork of bandages, and what skin was visible was red and blistered. Carefully, Ezra ran his bandaged finger over his face, prodding gently at the wrappings. The resulting pain was enough to make him reach for the pills without hesitation. This was one instance where he wasn’t going to have any problem following his doctor’s orders. He was fumbling with the lid when Josiah opened the door.
“Ezra? Are you all right?” He had pushed the door open and poked his head inside when Ezra didn’t answer his knocks.
Ezra turned to him, stifling his surprise at the man’s presence. “Mr. Sanchez. I see you have won invalid duty today.”
Josiah chuckled. “Nathan will be relieving me at noon.” He took the bottle from Ezra’s bandaged hand. “Here, let me get that.” He shook out a pill and handed it to Ezra, then filled a glass of water.
Ezra nodded gratefully and quickly swallowed the pill.
“Do you need some help getting dressed?”
Ezra looked at his gauze-wrapped hands and frowned. He hadn’t thought about how limiting his injuries were going to be. He hated to be dependent on anybody, especially these men. “I believe I can manage.”
Josiah eyed him skeptically, but knew better than to argue with his stubborn friend. “Okay, just yell if you need anything.”
Ezra simply nodded in reply.
After Josiah had left, Ezra fumbled through the bag of clothing his teammates had packed for him, smiling when he found some sweatpants and t-shirts. He could manage those easily enough with his wrapped and clumsy hands. He looked at the sneakers next to the bag and frowned. Shoes were going to be a problem, though. With a sigh, he slipped into the clothing, leaving the shoes where they were. Socks would be enough while he was inside the house.
“Hey, Ez,” Vin greeted him as he stepped into the living room.
“Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said, sitting gingerly in the chair across from the sharpshooter. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Vin said. “How about you?”
“I am fine,” Ezra said.
“Bull,” Vin said with a snort. “You look like hell and I know them burns gotta hurt.”
Ezra shrugged delicately. “I have had worse.”
Vin rolled his eyes. “From what I hear, you’re lucky not to be worse.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Pollard and his boys weren’t nearly so lucky,” Vin continued. “Ended up extra crispy.”
Ezra winced at the image. “I’m glad I did not have to witness that.”
“Witness it, hell,” Josiah said, dropping onto the couch next to Vin. “You almost ended up joining them.”
“I suppose I ought to be thankful to Lady Fortune for smiling upon me,” Ezra said, surprised at the depth of concern in the two men’s faces.
“You got that right,” Vin said.
Sensing a need to change the subject, Josiah leaned forward. “You hungry?”
“Not particularly,” Ezra answered, taking a moment to decipher the big man’s speech. Josiah was a bit harder for him to understand, due to the beard and mustache obscuring part of his mouth.
“I could eat,” Vin said.
“You can always eat,” Josiah remarked with a grin. “I’ll fix something for both of you.”
Ezra opened his mouth to protest, but Josiah held up his hand to forestall any objections.
“You need to eat, Ezra,” the big man said. “Nate said food will help you tolerate the medication better.”
“Very well,” Ezra said with a put-upon sigh. He didn’t want to admit it, but his stomach was feeling a bit unsettled.
Josiah headed for the kitchen and Ezra leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes against the daylight streaming through the windows. After a few minutes, Ezra opened his eyes to find Vin on the verge of standing, a worried look on his face. “Is something wrong, Mr. Tanner?”
“You okay, Ez?”
“I’m fine,” Ezra replied. “Why?”
“You had me worried for a minute when you didn’t answer me,” Vin said.
“My apologies,” Ezra said, mentally slapping himself for letting his vigilance slip. “I’m afraid my mind was wandering a bit.”
Vin slouched back onto the sofa and grinned. “Yeah, getting knocked in the head will do that to you.”
The two men sat in companionable silence until Josiah bustled back into the room carrying two plates of scrambled eggs and toast. Vin sighed at the light meal, but knew his complaints would go unheard while his friends were in full worry mode.
“Eat up, kids,” Josiah said with a wide grin.
Ezra lifted an eyebrow at him, but his bandages hid his forehead and the effect was lost. He glanced over at Vin and said, “Kids?”
Vin shrugged. “Compared to him, I guess we are.”
Ezra chuckled at the offended look Josiah gave them as he headed back to the kitchen. Turning to his food, Ezra tried to pick up the fork, without much success. Finally, on the fifth attempt, he was able to grasp it with his thumb and fingers. He looked up at Vin, embarrassed at his inept display, but paused when he noticed the sharpshooter looking at him oddly.
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for five minutes,” Vin said with a frown. “Didn’t you hear me?”
Ezra looked away for a moment, suddenly afraid that he had given himself away. “I was... distracted.”
“Ezra...”
Ezra couldn’t hear the tone of his voice, but he could tell by the look that Vin was giving him that he wasn’t buying it. Licking his lips nervously, Ezra checked to make sure that Josiah was still in the kitchen, then looked back at Vin. “My hearing is a bit... muffled.” He shrugged. “Dr. Landry said it should clear up soon.”
“From the explosion?” Vin guessed.
“Yes,” Ezra said with a sigh.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Vin asked, then waved his hand. “Never mind, I know why.” He grinned at Ezra conspiratorially. “They can be real annoying, can’t they?”
Ezra chuckled. “That they can.”
“You seem to be hearing me fine now,” Vin said, looking at him curiously.
“I am somewhat skilled in lip reading,” Ezra explained.
“Must be handy,” Vin said with a thoughtful grin.
Ezra rolled his eyes, knowing that the sharpshooter was already thinking up ways to use his talent to pull pranks on the rest of the team. “It is an asset at times.” He pinned the other man with a serious gaze. “I would prefer to keep this between us.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell ‘em.” Vin gestured toward the plate that sat on the coffee table in front of the undercover agent. “You better eat that before Josiah decides to force-feed you.”
Ezra rolled his eyes, but carefully started eating, praying that he wouldn’t make a mess and embarrass himself further.
Josiah entered the room and nodded as he saw that his two charges were doing as they were told. He ambled back toward the sofa and sat down, setting his cup of coffee on the small end table next to him. Stifling a yawn, he leaned back and watched Ezra’s awkward attempts to eat neatly. Smiling, he shook his head, knowing better than to offer his assistance, no matter how painful it was to watch.
When Nathan arrived a few minutes later, Vin had already polished off his breakfast, while Ezra was still making slow, but steady progress.
“Hey, Nate,” Vin greeted his teammate.
“Vin,” Nathan said with a nod. “How you feelin’?”
“Lots better than yesterday,” Vin said.
“Good,” Nathan said. “But you still got to take it easy.”
Vin rolled his eyes. “Gimme a break. It’s not like I can do anything anyways, what with you guys fussin’ over me all the time.”
Ezra, who had been following the conversation closely, chuckled. “They take ‘fussing’ to a whole new level.”
Vin nodded then winked mischievously. “But we know how to deal with fussin’, don’t we, Ez?”
“Indeed we do, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said with a sly smile, saluting him with his fork.
Josiah laughed at the younger men, while Nathan grumbled about them not knowing what was good for them.
“What’cha got in the bag, Nate?” Vin asked, referring to the grocery bag he had deposited on the floor while he shed his coat.
“Figured I’d bring some food so there’ll be something besides junk to eat when the rest of the boys show up for dinner tonight.”
Vin peeked into the bag, then wrinkled his nose. “Blech.”
“Vegetables are good for you,” Nathan countered.
“If you say so,” Vin said with a shrug, knowing how much it irritated the health-conscious man.
“Neither one of you should be eatin’ that usual garbage right now,” Nathan said, unperturbed. This was a discussion they had had many times before.
“You won’t get any arguments from me,” Ezra agreed. He liked vegetables.
Nathan looked at him, watching him clumsily eat his eggs, and frowned. He started heading toward the undercover agent, but Josiah pulled him aside, shaking his head. With a nod, he picked up the groceries and directed the medic toward the kitchen. Ezra had returned his attention to his food his food and missed the subtle byplay. Vin didn’t miss it, though, and nodded at Josiah in approval.
“What’s up?” Nathan asked curiously.
“I know you mean well, but it might be best if you let Ezra do things on his own,” Josiah suggested gently. “You know how stubborn he is. You’ll just make it more difficult if you try to do things for him.”
Nathan sighed. “I know, but it makes me cringe to watch him struggling like that.”
“I know how you feel,” Josiah said sympathetically. “It was hard for me to sit by and do nothing, but we have to let him do things his own way.” He grinned. “Have patience, brother.”
Nathan grinned. “Ask me for somethin’ easy, why don’t you.”
Josiah laughed and slapped him on the back as they walked back out to the living room.
Ezra finally finished his lunch and spent some time conversing with Vin and Nathan before succumbing to the effects of the potent painkiller he had taken earlier. For once, he was grateful for the numbing effects of the medication, both to kill the pain and to give him an excuse to be alone. Being forced to concentrate so intensely while reading lips quickly taxed his limited energy and made his head hurt, so Ezra welcomed the respite provided by the drugs.
As he leaned back into the soft pillows, Ezra sighed and wondered if he was going to be able to handle the group gathering that was obviously planned for that evening. It had been difficult enough trying to keep track of two or three speakers at once. How was he going to be able to manage the whole team for an extended period of time? Ezra closed his eyes and frowned, wincing at the twinge of pain that the facial motion produced. He could claim to be feeling poorly and retire to his room, but that would only serve to lengthen his incarceration at the ranch. He had, after all, only promised to stay with someone for one night, and intended to get back to his own apartment as soon as he could arrange it. It was going to be at least two weeks before he could return to work, and he did not wish to spend that time under the watchful eyes of his associates.
Shuddering at the thought of being at the mercy of his teammates, Ezra started working through his options. He had to plan his escape and find a way to return home with a minimum of fuss. As various possibilities flitted through his head, Ezra found that it was getting harder to think clearly. His brain seemed to be slowing down and he couldn’t seem to keep hold of a thought for more than a few seconds. Eventually, he conceded defeat and let himself drift off into a drugged sleep. He would figure it out later.
“Hey, Junior!” Buck called as he strode through the door of Larabee’s ranch house. “You’re lookin’ a little better.” He squinted at the sharpshooter and grinned. “Y’ain’t green anymore, at least.”
Vin replied with a rude hand gesture.
“Yep, he’s definitely feelin’ better,” Josiah said with a laugh, slapping Buck on the shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen carrying a stack of pizza boxes.
“Pizza!” Vin said, a grin lighting up his face at the sight of one of his favorite foods.
“We thought you might be up to eating something a little more substantial by now,” Chris said, shutting the door behind himself and JD.
Vin’s grin suddenly faded. “What about Ez? He ain’t gonna be able to eat that with his hands all wrapped up.”
Chris paused and looked at Buck, frowning. “Didn’t think of that.”
“He won’t be able to tolerate pizza yet, anyway,” Nathan commented from the kitchen doorway, having overheard the conversation. “I made some chicken and vegetables for me and him.”
“Aw Nate,” JD said. “Pizza ain’t that bad for ya. It’s got cheese and tomatoes and stuff.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s the sausage and pepperoni and all that other greasy crap that’ll clog up your arteries.”
Chris smiled as the two men continued their good-natured argument in the kitchen. Some things never changed.
“I s’pose someone should go wake Ez,” Vin said.
“He sleeping again?” Chris asked.
“Yep,” Vin replied. “Them pain meds really knock him out.”
“You volunteering?” asked Buck, smirking at the sharpshooter.
Vin sighed and climbed to his feet. “Me an’ my big mouth.”
The glowing mass was drawing closer while the smoke thickened in his lungs. Ezra wanted to move away, to run, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t know what the shimmering thing was, but something told him that he should fear its presence. His panic rose when his body wouldn’t respond to his commands, leaving him gasping for breath while his heart pounded wildly in his ears. A sudden pain intruded upon his fright and, as suddenly as it appeared, the terrifying entity vanished.
Ezra’s eyes snapped open, and he looked wildly around the room in which he found himself. Recognizing the furnishings, he relaxed into his pillows, forcing his breathing into a more normal rhythm. He became aware of another presence in the room and turned his head to find Vin staring down at him, his face creased with worry.
“You okay, Ez?” Vin asked.
Ezra gently brushed a bandaged hand over his face. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Vin stated doubtfully.
“I merely had an... unsettling dream,” Ezra said dismissively. “Pain medication often causes this sort of interruption in my usual sleep patterns.”
Vin still looked doubtful, but didn’t press him further. “The guys are here. You feel like eating?”
Ezra desperately wanted to say “no”, but knew that would only induce more worry and hovering from his well-meaning associates. So, he smiled weakly and said, “I believe I could partake of a light meal.” He sat up carefully and eased himself to his feet.
“Need a hand?” Vin asked as Ezra swayed on his feet slightly.
“No thank you, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said. “I simply need to awaken further before attempting to move.” He walked slowly toward the bathroom. “I will join you after I have freshened up a bit.”
“Okay,” Vin nodded, heading back out the door.
In the bathroom, Ezra looked in the mirror and grimaced. The doctor had assured him that his burns wouldn’t scar, but the ugly red blotches on his face didn’t inspire much confidence in that diagnosis. Heaving a sigh, he smoothed his unruly hair and clumsily brushed his teeth before steeling himself for the ordeal ahead. He looked longingly at the pain pills, knowing that the dull aches and tingles would soon become sharper and more biting, but he needed to keep his senses alert if he was going to continue to carry off his deception. He smiled grimly at the bandaged image that looked back at him. He was an expert at the art of the con. He could do this.
“He comin’ out?” Buck asked when Vin returned to the living room alone.
“Yep,” Vin replied, making a beeline for the open pizza box on the coffee table. “Just wanted to ‘freshen up’ before he came out here.”
“He must be feeling better if he’s starting to fuss over his appearance,” Josiah said with a chuckle.
Vin shrugged and dropped into a chair, taking a large bite of pizza.
“I’ll go get a plate ready for him,” Nathan said, heading for the kitchen.
Ezra ambled into the room and smiled at the assembled men. “Gentlemen,” he greeted them.
“Hey Ez,” JD called, waving at the undercover agent.
“How ya feeling, pard?” Buck asked.
Ezra panicked for a moment as his sluggish brain struggled to decipher what had been said. “I’m feeling much better,” he said, hoping he had understood correctly.
“Sit down,” Chris said, gesturing to one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room.
Ezra studied the suggested seat and nodded, noting that he would be able to see everyone’s faces from that location. Sinking carefully into the soft cushions, he looked at his teammates, relieved that they weren’t paying him undue attention. His gaze settled on the pizza boxes on the coffee table and he frowned. Pizza didn’t appeal to his stomach and it was certainly going to be difficult to manage with his bandages. He saw Josiah’s mouth moving and looked up quickly.
“... has something for you in the kitchen,” Josiah said. “It should be ready shortly.”
Ezra smiled and nodded, forgoing any commentary as he settled in to watch the conversations around him. Vin and JD were arguing good-naturedly about the merits of various video games, while Buck, Josiah, and Chris exchanged some office gossip. They sent occasional comments and inquiries in Ezra’s direction, but seemed content to allow him to relax in his chair.
Nathan came out of the kitchen after a few minutes carrying two steaming plates. He deposited one on the folding tray that Buck had set up in front of Ezra and placed the other on the coffee table in front of his own seat.
Ezra looked at the heaping plate and frowned. “Mr. Jackson, I do not believe I will be able to consume such a large quantity of food.”
“You need to eat,” Nathan said brusquely, pointing his fork sternly at the plate.
Ezra opened his mouth to protest again, but changed his mind at the glare Chris was bestowing upon him. With a long-suffering sigh, he picked up his fork – after several false starts – and started to eat the chicken, rice, and vegetables that Nathan had prepared. The dark-skinned medic was a good cook, and Ezra enjoyed the dish, but was only able to eat half of the portion on his plate before he found himself too full to continue.
It had taken him a long time to eat, since his hands were clumsy, and he had needed to keep his attention focused on the others, so as not to miss any conversation directed at him. The others had all finished their respective meals by the time he was done, leaving him the center of their attention. Shifting uncomfortably, he attempted to redirect their focus. “Is there any news as to the origin of the explosion?” The grim expressions that greeted his question made him regret having opened his mouth.
Chris ran a hand through his hair. “It was a bomb. Remotely triggered.”
Ezra’s eyes widened in shock. “A bomb? Are there any suspects?”
“We don’t know who the targets were yet, so it’s still wide open,” Josiah explained.
“Remotely triggered,” Ezra murmured. “That means they were targeting someone inside.”
“Yep,” Buck said with a nod.
“It is possible that someone wanted to eliminate some of the competition in the arms trade,” Ezra postulated.
“Or they could’a been after us,” Vin said seriously.
“Maybe you, in particular,” Chris said pointedly.
Ezra swallowed reflexively at the thought, then smiled brightly at his associates. “Now really, Mr. Larabee. Who would want to do me harm?”
Ezra’s comment was met with groans and eye rolls. Larabee merely pinned his agent with another glare, shaking his head slowly.
After spending two hours discussing the situation, the conversation turned to more pleasant topics. Ezra’s head was beginning to pound and he found himself becoming more and more uncomfortable as the painkillers he had taken earlier wore off. He was about to excuse himself, when Vin, ever-observant, noticed his discomfort.
“Hey, pard,” Vin said. “Ain’t it about time for your pills?”
“I suppose it is,” Ezra sighed, attempting to appear reluctant. In truth, he was grateful for the intervention.
“You look tired,” Nathan added. “Why don’t you call it a night?”
“I’m fine,” Ezra said automatically.
“Yeah, right,” Buck snorted.
“You need your rest, Ezra,” Nathan said, placing hands on his hips in a gesture that Ezra recognized as his ‘I’m not going to take any more excuses’ pose.
Hiding a smile, Ezra complied, grumbling that he was “fine” for good effect. He didn’t want to admit how weary he really was, since that would make escaping from the ranch even more difficult.
“You should be getting some sleep too, Vin,” Nathan said, after Ezra had retired to the guest room. “Concussions are nothing to mess with.”
“M’fine, Nate,” Vin retorted.
“You’d say that even if you were laying there with fifteen bullets in ya,” Buck said with a smirk.
Vin stuck his tongue out at Buck.
“You’ll have to spend that much longer away from field work if you don’t get enough rest,” Nathan reminded the reluctant sharpshooter. “I know how much you just love riding a desk and writing reports.”
“Fine,” Vin growled, getting to his feet. “Damn nags, all of ya.”
The rest of the group watched him shuffle down the hall to the second guest room, grumbling all the way.
“So who gets stuck with the dynamic duo tomorrow?” Josiah asked.
“It’s Buck’s turn,” JD said, earning him a glare from his roommate. JD would have offered to do it himself, but he knew the others would never allow it, thinking him too gullible to deal with Vin and Ezra. He didn’t think of himself as gullible; he simply saw things from the same point of view as his teammates.
As the three youngest agents on the team, he, Ezra, and Vin were usually subjected to the most attention when they were hurt or sick. He didn’t mind the attention so much himself; it was the others treating him like a little kid that drove him crazy. Vin and Ezra weren’t as bad as the others, though, treating him more as an equal than as an errant little brother. They didn’t, however, take well to ‘fussing’, as Vin called it, since they were both used to being on their own and chafed under the constant attention dispensed by the older members of the team. JD figured it was because they didn’t like anyone else being around when their defenses were down. The young agent chuckled inwardly. It was easier to let the ‘big brothers’ think he was naive and gullible than to admit to agreeing with the other two agents.
Chris nodded at JD’s suggestion. “He’s right, Buck. Josiah and Nate have done their duty. You stay with them tomorrow morning. I’ll come by at noon to take over.”
“Don’t need no babysitters!” came a muffled yell from the direction of the guest rooms.
“Get your ass to bed, Tanner,” Chris yelled amidst the snickers of the others.
“Cranky, ain’t he?” Nathan said, grinning broadly, glad that he wouldn’t have to deal with the two stubborn men tomorrow.
Buck groaned. “All right, all right. Guess I’ll just crash on your couch tonight. No sense going home if I’m just gonna come back out here in the morning.”
“You going to keep them both here all weekend?” Josiah inquired, remembering that the next day was Friday.
Chris grimaced at the thought of dealing with both of the cantankerous agents for the entire weekend. “Don’t know yet. Depends on how Ezra’s doing tomorrow.”
“He really shouldn’t be left alone,” Nathan said. “Vin should be okay, but I’d feel better if someone was watchin’ out for both of ‘em.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Vin grimaced as he listened, ear pressed up against the door, to the conversation down the hall. He was gonna have to get himself and Ezra out from under the thumbs of their well-meaning, but annoying teammates. The older men were as protective as a bunch of big brothers, but at times like this, Vin simply wanted to go back to being an only child. He knew Ezra felt the same way and began thinking of ways to get them out of this predicament.
Ezra greeted the day to the sight of Vin’s smiling face. He glanced at the clock and groaned. It was only 7:00 AM. “Mr. Tanner, what on earth could make you so cheerful at this ungodly hour of the morning?”
“Well, if you’re up for it, what do you say we blow this joint?” Vin said conspiratorially.
Ezra smiled and nodded. He was more than ready to go back to his own apartment. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Vin held a finger to his lips, urging him to speak more softly. “Buck’s on duty today,” he said in what Ezra deduced was a whisper. “I figured you and me could go out and check on the horses, and then ‘borrow’ Buck’s truck when he’s not looking.”
“That seems like a sound plan,” Ezra said in what he hoped was a low voice, nodding slowly as he considered the plan. “Do you have his keys or shall we hotwire the beast?”
Vin dangled Buck’s keys in response. “Snagged ‘em while he was still sleepin’.”
“I believe my bad habits are rubbing off on you, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said with a chuckle as he eased himself to a sitting position.
“Need some help?”
“I could use some assistance wrapping my hands before I shower,” Ezra admitted after a moment of thought. He was dying to take a shower, but had been strongly warned against getting his burns wet. He could manage to keep his face mostly dry, but his hands would be more difficult.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Vin eyed him doubtfully.
Ezra shrugged. “No, but I am weary of the odor of smoke that permeates my person.”
“I could give you a hand, if you want?” Vin offered carefully, unsure of how the private man would react to an offer of assistance with such a personal task.
Ezra pondered this for a moment before replying tentatively, “You could aid me in adjusting the shower.”
“Okay,” Vin said with a smile as he turned toward the bathroom.
Ezra followed, and soon was in the shower, feeling rather foolish as he washed his hair with hands covered in the plastic sleeves in which Larabee’s newspapers were wrapped for delivery. Vin had taken a seat in the bedroom and had insisted that he leave the bathroom door open in case he required more help. It was an unexpected, yet comforting gesture.
Ezra smiled at the friendship he shared with the quiet sharpshooter. In the year he had been with Team Seven, he had found that he had more in common with Vin than with any of the others on the team, despite their outward differences. They both were very private, rarely discussing their personal lives, and they shared similar loner tendencies. The long-haired agent had also been the most persistent in cajoling him into participating in activities with the rest of the team. It was a strange sensation for Ezra to actually have a friend with whom he could relax and let down his guard somewhat.
It surprised Ezra how quickly he had begun to trust the other man. Trust was not something that came easily to him, but something about the former bounty hunter inspired confidence that he would not betray him like so many others before. It was going to take some time for him to gain that level of comfort with the other members of the team, but for the first time in years, Ezra actually believed it might happen.
After some futile fumbling, he gave up on turning off the shower and stepped out of the stall, clumsily grabbing a towel off of the rack.
Vin, hearing the commotion, poked his head through the door. “Everything okay?”
Ezra grinned at him sheepishly. “I was unable to turn off the faucet.”
Vin chuckled and reached in to shut off the water, then turned to help Ezra remove the plastic bags from his hands. “I’ll go rustle up some breakfast for us.”
“I will be there shortly,” Ezra replied. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Tanner.”
Vin waved dismissively as he left the bathroom.
Ezra rubbed his hair dry and tried to comb it into some sense of order, but managed only to make it slightly less unruly. He didn’t even bother to shave. Given the burns scattered across his face, he didn’t think it wise to attempt the delicate process with his current lack of dexterity. He eyed the bottle of painkillers, but decided to wait until after breakfast to take any. If he and Vin were going to be successful in their escape, he needed to have his wits about him.
Ezra entered the kitchen to find Vin flipping a pancake in the air and catching it on the griddle.
Buck, seated at the table, applauded and whistled. “Nice catch!”
“Impressive,” Ezra said with a smile. “I hope the taste of this culinary delight is as exceptional as its flight characteristics.”
“Damn, Ez, it’s too early in the morning for the ten-dollar vocabulary,” Buck said, shaking his head.
Vin merely rolled his eyes and continued making his pancakes.
Ezra joined Buck at the table, accepting the cup of coffee Buck poured with a grateful nod. “Thank you, Mr. Wilmington.”
“Awful early for you, ain’t it?” Buck commented, scrutinizing the southerner closely.
“I did retire rather early last evening,” Ezra pointed out. “One can only sleep so much.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say something like that,” Buck said with a chuckle.
Ezra was about to respond when Vin slid a plate of pancakes in front of him. He was pleased to note that the sharpshooter had not over-filled his plate, as some of his teammates were wont to do. He never ate as much in the morning as the other men. “Thank you, Mr. Tanner.” He watched with amusement as Vin dropped a plate in front of Buck and then slid into a seat with his own heaping plate, dousing it heavily with syrup before starting to eat.
“Hey, save some of that for me!” Buck said, snatching the syrup off of the table. Turning to Ezra, he asked, “You want some?”
“Just a bit,” Ezra replied.
Buck tipped some syrup onto Ezra’s plate until he held up his hand to signal that it was enough, then poured a generous dollop onto his own stack of pancakes.
“These are quite good, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra remarked.
“Thanks,” Vin said, pleased that his cooking was up to the undercover agent’s high standards.
Buck finished eating first, letting loose a loud belch as he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach.
“Guess Buck liked ‘em, too,” Vin commented with a grin.
Ezra hadn’t heard it, but recognized the expression on Vin’s face. Knowing Buck, he could hazard a pretty good guess as to what the man had done. “Really, Mr. Wilmington. Some of us are still eating.”
Buck laughed and poured himself some more coffee. “Just expressing my appreciation for Junior’s cooking.” He slapped Vin on the back as he left the kitchen.
Ezra and Vin finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. Vin removed the plates when they were done, stacking them in the dishwasher. Turning around, he grinned at Ezra and nodded his head toward the outside.
Returning the smile, Ezra stood and followed him out of the kitchen. As he stepped through the doorway, his hand brushed the door frame and he winced at the jolt of pain that raced up his arm.
Buck noticed his expression and said, “Guess those happy pills haven’t kicked in yet?”
Ezra didn’t make out all of the words, but had a general idea of what Buck had said. “I haven’t taken them yet.”
“Want me to get ‘em?” Vin asked.
Ezra nodded, grateful that he wouldn’t have to wrestle the child-proof lid off of the bottle again.
Vin returned a few minutes later with the bottle, shaking out one pill.
“Thank you, Mr. Tanner.” Ezra started toward the kitchen for some water, but Vin waved him away. “I’ll get it. No sense you fightin’ with the faucets again.”
Ezra sighed and nodded reluctantly, hating that such simple things were causing him such difficulty.
After he had taken the pill, Vin discreetly tucked the bottle into his pocket. “Hey, Buck. We’re gonna go check on Peso and Chaucer.”
Buck waved at them, not looking up from the women’s volleyball game he was watching on one of the forty-seven sports channels that Chris’s satellite system received.
Grinning, Vin and Ezra headed out the front door.
“I do want to see Chaucer,” Ezra said, angling toward the barn. “And this way, they can’t accuse us of being untruthful.” He smiled broadly at Vin, his gold tooth catching the early morning sunlight.
“I like the way you think,” Vin said, clapping his friend gently on the shoulder.
After spending a few minutes with their horses, Vin strolled back to the house and peeked through the window, while Ezra made his way toward Buck’s truck. Finding Buck still engrossed in the volleyball game, Vin waved at Ezra, who climbed behind the wheel and put the vehicle into neutral. They had decided to push the truck down the driveway before starting it, to give themselves some additional time before Buck noticed their absence.
It took a few minutes of struggling, but the truck finally began to roll, picking up speed on the slight slope of the driveway. Once they were far enough away, Ezra moved aside while Vin jumped into the driver’s seat and started the truck.
Ezra entered his apartment and smiled, relieved to be back in his own home. He sank into his soft couch and gave Vin a tired smile. “Free at last.”
“You know this is the first place they’re gonna look for you,” Vin reminded him.
“Yes, I know. I suppose I ought to make other arrangements.” Ezra sighed, trying to gather the energy to pack a bag.
Vin studied his friend, noting his increasing fatigue. He knew Ezra wanted to take care of himself, but he wasn’t comfortable leaving him on his own just yet. He thought about it for a minute, then made his decision.
“I’m gonna go grab some stuff at my place and drop Buck’s truck off at the office,” Vin said. “If you want, I know a place we can hide out for a few days.” He looked at Ezra hopefully.
Ezra knew what Vin was trying to do and stifled a smile. The Texan was as protective of his friends as any of the others, but his laid-back demeanor was much easier to take than their smothering approach. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of assistance – and company – for another couple of days. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Tanner.”
Vin nodded and left quickly, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Buck became aware of their disappearing act.
Ezra slowly stood and headed for the bedroom to pack his things.
Vin drove to his apartment and packed quickly, then drove to the federal building, which was closer to both his and Ezra’s apartments than the loft Buck shared with JD. It didn’t take long to get a taxi, and a short time later, he was back at Ezra’s place. Dropping his duffel bag on the sofa, he called out, “Ez? You ready to go?” There was no response, so he made his way down the hall toward the bedroom, figuring that the undercover agent had fallen asleep.
“Ez?” He stood in the doorway, a puzzled frown on his face. The southerner was putting some items into a small suitcase, his back to the door. “Ez!” he shouted. But the other man didn’t turn around, and made no indication that he was aware of the Vin’s presence. Stealthily, Vin stepped up behind Ezra and sharply clapped his hands together several times. Nothing. With a sigh, Vin tapped his friend on the shoulder.
Ezra was arranging his clothing neatly in the suitcase when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whirling around, he dropped into a defensive stance, then winced at the pain in his ribs. He dropped his head and smiled when he saw Vin standing behind him. “Mr. Tanner. You startled me.”
“I noticed,” Vin said, still frowning.
Noting the intense stare with which he was being favored, Ezra cocked his head to the side and inquired, “Is something amiss?”
“You tell me,” Vin challenged. “I’ve been standing here for five minutes trying to get your attention.”
“I...” Ezra trailed off, seeing the knowing look in the sharpshooter’s eyes. He wasn’t going to be able to con his way out of this one. He shrugged and smiled weakly. “I was preoccupied?”
“Try again.”
Ezra sighed. “Very well, Mr. Tanner. If you must know, I did not hear you. In fact, I cannot hear anything.”
“Nothing?” Vin said, eyes widening in surprise. He had guessed that Ezra’s hearing was in worse shape than he had admitted, but didn’t expect to hear that it was completely gone.
Ezra nodded, shifting uncomfortably under the sudden scrutiny.
“But you can understand me?”
“I can read lips,” Ezra explained quietly.
“Is it from the explosion?”
Ezra nodded again. “Dr. Landry informed me that there was some inflammation in my ears that should disappear within a few days.”
“Does she think that’s the reason for it?” Ezra flushed slightly and Vin groaned aloud. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
Ezra shook his head. “I assumed it would clear up on its own.”
“Are you nuts!” Vin shouted. “This is serious, Ez. You can’t go hiding something like that!”
“I know that,” Ezra said stiffly, “but as you can see, I am managing quite well.”
“Quite well my ass!” Vin raged. “Serious problems like this don’t just go away!”
Ezra flinched and turned away, knowing that Vin was correct. It was just difficult for him to contemplate the alternatives. “It did last time,” Ezra said softly, fear and defeat in his voice. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.
Vin grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “What do you mean, ‘last time?’”
Ezra shook his head and tried to turn away, but Vin held firm.
“Talk to me, Ez,” he said, worry etched on his face.
Running a careful hand over his hair, Ezra sighed. “Not here. Let us depart before the rest of our merry band arrives to take us back to captivity.”
Vin stared at him for a moment, then nodded shortly. “All right, but we are going to talk about this.”
Ezra nodded, feeling an odd sense of relief. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Vin knew about his infirmity. At least he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore when he was around him.
“Need some help packing?”
“This is the last of it,” Ezra said, dropping a sweatshirt into his bag before closing it.
Vin grabbed the bag out of his hand and headed for the door. Ezra shook his head and locked the door behind him as he left the apartment.
Outside, Vin tossed Ezra’s bag into the jeep next to his own duffel and opened the passenger door – which sometimes got stuck – for Ezra, who climbed in quietly and leaned his head against the back of the seat. The drugs had begun to take effect, and he felt his eyelids growing heavier. Minutes after they left, he was fast asleep.
A sudden jolt roused Ezra from his slumber and he blinked sleepily, peering out the window at the terrain. Trees flew by at a rapid pace and dust rose from the dirt road upon which they were currently traveling. There were no buildings in sight. He turned to Vin, who was concentrating solely on the road, and asked curiously, “Mr. Tanner? What is our destination?”
“Hey, Ez,” Vin said, turning to face him. “How you feeling?”
Ignoring the question, Ezra asked, “Where are we?”
“We’re about two hours outside of Denver,” Vin answered.
Ezra looked at the scenery again, then frowned. “You aren’t dragging me out into some godforsaken wilderness, are you?”
“Not exactly,” Vin said with a laugh. “You’ll like this place. Trust me.”
“I do,” Ezra said softly.
Vin shot him a surprised look, wondering if Ezra had meant for him to hear the comment, but the undercover agent’s expression was unreadable. Shaking his head in exasperation, he waited until Ezra looked in his direction, then said simply, “We’re almost there.”
Ezra nodded, then closed his eyes again.
When he next awoke, Ezra found himself alone in the jeep. He sat up and looked around apprehensively, relaxing when he saw Vin carrying their bags into a tidy log cabin. He reached for the seatbelt, sighing in frustration when he couldn’t get it opened. He was still working at it when Vin returned.
“Let me get that.” Vin reached across and opened the buckle with ease.
Ezra scanned the area, not seeing any other buildings nearby. They were surrounded by dense forest that was interrupted only by the dirt road they had used to get to the cabin. “You don’t consider this to be wilderness?” he asked, uncomfortable with the thought of ‘roughing it’ in his present condition.
Vin smiled and shook his head. “Just wait.”
Ezra eyed him suspiciously, but followed him silently into the cabin. Stepping through the door, he stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. The inside of the cabin was beautiful. The walls were covered in oak paneling and Indian rugs woven in vibrant colors were scattered across the polished oak floors. Two maroon overstuffed sofas graced the center of the large living room, and a television stood on a compact cabinet in the corner. A huge stone fireplace flanked by tall bookshelves took up the left side of the room, and large windows provided plenty of natural lighting. On the right hand side of the cabin was a spacious kitchen with elegant, but simple oak cabinets and modern appliances. A small, tiled table with four chairs stood at one end of the kitchen, next to a set of French doors leading to the deck. Between the kitchen and living room was a hallway that led to what Ezra assumed were bedrooms.
“What do you think?” Vin asked.
Ezra looked at his friend, noting the touch of apprehension in his eyes, as though he were afraid the cabin would be too rustic for his tastes. “It’s wonderful, Mr. Tanner.” He looked at Vin with a smile, making sure the other man could see the truth in his eyes. “Is it yours?”
Vin blushed slightly and nodded. “Yeah. Bought it off an old bounty hunting pal a few years ago. He used to use it as a hunting cabin, but was heading back east after he retired. It was kind of a dump, so he didn’t ask much for it.” He shrugged self-effacingly. “I’ve been fixing it up some.”
“It’s beautiful. I’m honored that you’ve allowed me to see it,” Ezra stated sincerely.
Vin relaxed visibly and returned the smile. “You ain’t even seen the best part, yet. Come on.” He led Ezra down the hallway, stopping at the first door on the left. It was a large, comfortable bedroom, dominated by a huge, antique four-poster bed. The curtains, rugs, and comforter were done in hunter green and navy blue, accenting the warm oak walls and floors. An antique dresser and nightstand, unmatched, yet coordinating with the bed and furnishings, completed the room.
“Now that looks like a comfortable place to sleep,” Ezra said approvingly.
Vin snorted. “I figured you’d appreciate it.”
They left the room and moved to the next room on the left, which proved to be another sizeable bedroom, with similar antique furnishings, including another four-poster bed. This room was decorated in shades of blue and yellow, with homey braided rugs scattered on the floor.
“Mr. Tanner, I’m impressed,” Ezra stated. “Did you do your own decorating?”
Vin nodded, looking embarrassed.
“You have very good taste,” Ezra said, “and quite an eye for color.”
“I thought you considered us all to be ‘uncouth barbarians?’” Vin asked with a grin.
“That was before I saw this place,” Ezra countered. “You’ve been hiding your light under a bushel, my friend.”
Vin shrugged, both pleased and embarrassed by the compliments, then led the way to the room across the hall.
It was another bedroom, longer and wider than the other two, and done in varied shades of green. It was furnished with a trio of oak dressers and a matched set of three extra-long twin beds. Ezra looked closely at them, then asked, “Did you build those?”
“Yep,” Vin answered. “Did the kitchen cabinets, too.”
“You are quite the carpenter,” Ezra said, a touch of awe in his voice. He grinned broadly at Vin. “Now I know who to call when my furniture needs repairs.”
Vin rolled his eyes and tugged on Ezra’s arm. “Come on. One room left.”
The last room was a spacious and well-appointed bathroom. A wide shower stall with gray granite walls and a bench on one end took up most of the left side of the room. On the far end of the room, under the window, was a huge bathtub, complete with spa jets. A double sink and toilet filled the rest of the space on the right side. The fixtures were new, but in an antique style that complimented the decor of the rest of the house.
Ezra shook his head in wonder. “A jacuzzi tub, Mr. Tanner? I didn’t think you went in for such luxuries.”
Vin shrugged. “I remembered how nice it was when I used the one at your place after I got banged up on the DeNucci case, and I figured that kind of thing happens often enough to make it worth having one for myself.”
“Too true,” Ezra said with a laugh. “That was a major reason for my own purchase.” He took another look at the bathroom, then frowned. “How do you provide power to run it out here?”
Vin grinned. “Well, there’s a generator out back, but it’s only for backup. I got a direct power line to this place.”
“Out here?” Ezra asked curiously. “How, may I ask?”
“Ray – that’s my old friend – he was a fanatic about sports, especially football and hockey, and he hated to miss the games on TV when he came out here.” Vin chuckled and shook his head. “He had a friend who worked for the electric company and he manag