"Gawd damn it's hot." The grumble over the tiny headsets stretched agreeing smiles across agents' faces as they moved inconspicuously through the milling Saturday late morning crowd.
The 4-H County Fair and Carnival had been in full swing since Friday afternoon. Carnival lights and music carried over the excited voices of kids and parents alike. The heavy equipment tents featured big names such as John Deere and Ford Tractors as well as the little local businesses such as Jack's Ace Hardware and the such.
The animal barns sat on the west end of the fair grounds near the show ring and auction yard, while Main Street lay on the far east end of the grounds. A grass parking lot sat to the North and parallel to it boarding the South side was the old dirt race track used for the heavy draft horse pulling contest…always a big ticket item on a Friday night.
Amongst the throngs of families, laughing kids, obliging parents, carnival workers and 4-H administrators, roamed ATF agents. Seven moved amongst the crowd while hordes worked behind the scenes running leads and checking facts.
Someone had threatened to 'bomb' the Fair. Amongst the revelers, the cotton candy smeared faces, and the mounds of Nacho chips buried in too little processed liquid cheese, worked seven men trying to stave off the impossible, with an unimaginable sea of support.
Team Seven did not work alone, but they did move amongst the revelers in their own form of solitude.
Team Seven walked and observed sweating under airless, unmoving, summer heat.
The heavy oppression of draping humidity promised to make the day sticky and miserable for all those caught outside without the benefit of air conditioning.
"Hell Buck, this ain't hot," JD's young voice spoke with an air of superiority and experience, "you should see Boston in the summer time, your pansy ass would melt….Ain't that right Ezra?" Dunne shaded his eyes as he measured the Ferris Wheel, bottom to top, aimlessly wondering if he could really scale his way down from the top if he ever had too. Probably could.
Chris rolled his eyes at the sound of his agent's voice, as he walked passed the exotic animal display. He stared at the giant tiger that lay in her water trough and faced into the enormous fan that sat kitty corner just outside her cage. She rested her massive head on the rim of the 100gallon trough and closed her eyes to the crowd, soaking up what little reprieve the blowing fan had to offer. Chris watched the tiger for a moment longer and couldn't help but think she had a good idea.
As he walked away his mind wandering back to another time…it would probably be in everyone's best interest if they kept their undercover agent away from the big cat exhibit. He didn't want Ezra getting 'adopted' again.
Chris wiped his brow on his sleeve and squinted through the crowd behind the protected lenses of his sun glasses.
Buck was right. The unusual muggy heat reached the scales of miserable.
"Mr. Dunne, not even your wretched hazy, hot and humid summers in Boston could compare with the hellacious burdensome atmosphere of the Carolinas or Alabama." The tired southern drawl stretched the words out as if leaving them to broil in the Denver heat wave.
"Should try St. Lucia if you want hot and muggy….like a furnace down there." Josiah's deep chuckle rumbled over head sets. The large profiler wiped his brow and surveyed the Ford Trucks that sat shaded from the sun. They just weren't as good as his old Chevy 'Burb'. He did not see the other agents furrow their brows trying to picture where St. Lucia sat in a geographical sense.
"It's just above South America," Nathan's exasperated voice answered the unasked questions. Jackson swiped at a persistent fly that buzzed the corner of his eye, looking for moisture. What he wouldn't give for desk duty today.
"Duh, Nathan, we knew that," Buck's sarcastic remark had the others laughing. Clearly they had not known but no one was willing to admit it.
"Why must we be here again?"
"Ezra quit yer whining." Vin watched the others wander slowly amongst the displays and rides. He scrutinized parents pushing strollers, witnessed how the other agents made sure that the strollers indeed carried infants or toddlers. Older children held onto sweat slick hands and pulled invariably in the opposite direction that their parents walked. Teenagers roamed the crowds like young bucks scanning the currents of people, trying to appear cool and unruffled while wearing pants that hung too low on their hips almost to the point of obscene. Vin wondered how cool they would look if they got 'pantsed.'
"Don't do it Buck," Larabee spoke over his mike as he spied Wilmington heading for the Candy Apple cart to speak with the smiling pony-tailed vendor. Vin snapped his attention away from a young man and his apparent girlfriend to where he had last seen Buck.
"Mr. Larabee, why is it we must always take these kinds of duties?"
"Because Ezra," the irritated sigh filled earphones, " I'm the devil and you're one of my pissant minions." The exasperation in Larabee's voice had the others laughing.
"I knew it," a soft disheartened Southern whisper slipped over headsets.
"Has anyone swept through the live stock barns?" Larabee ignored the grumbling of his undercover agent and the snickers that fed the Southerner's cocky rebellious attitude.
"I did the beef and dairy barn," JD piped up. The young agent watched the kids on the Tea Cups and hoped that when their shift was over at the Fair they, themselves, would have time to go on some of the rides.
It still shocked JD that someone or a group would sink so low as to do something as crazy as bomb a 4-H fair and carnival.
The young agent scanned the crowd. There were no soldiers here. Just families… moms and dads and their kids. Who in their right mind would seek to destroy a beautiful Saturday, why blow up a place that hallmarked everything good and wholesome in life?
"Brother Nathan and myself, did the poultry, goats and sheep barn," Josiah craned his neck around as a man in camouflage pants walked past him. The man had long greasy hair pulled into a pony tail. A thick chain looped from his wallet to a belt loop. Heavily used, well creased, black boots seemed too hot on such a scorcher day.
Just as Josiah was about to call it in, a small girl ran up to the unwholesome fellow shouting, "Daddy! Daddy! Look what I won!" She held up a yellow stuffed snake with a red tongue hanging out.
The big man bent down and enveloped the slim girl in his arms and swung her slight frame easily up to his eye level. "Well, Sweet Pea, that is just the purtiest thing I've seen since you and yer ma." The burly man gave his daughter a kiss and continued walking down the paved lane taking in the sights.
Josiah watched them for a moment and turned his attention back to the conversation over the tiny ear pieces.
"Well, Ezra I guess that leaves you the Pig Barn." Chris's smiling voice was easily discernable over the background noise of the carnival.
"Oh please, Mr. Larabee," Ezra's indignity heralded his every intention to fight the order. Josiah could picture him trying to find an exit or suitable excuse to escape his current circumstances. "You are still not sore about that tiny little remark…"
"Hell, Ez," Buck's chuckling voice burst through the headsets, "you're the only one I know who had the balls enough to tell Chris, he was a walking argument for Pro-Abortion."
This earned snickers and grunts from the others.
"Ain't ever seen Chris toss someone through a window before," Vin added his own two cents as he wiped sweat from his brow.
"Especially his own living room," Nathan laughed.
"Yes well, I didn't hear anyone refute the claim," Ezra pointed out unabashed by his earlier remarks a few days ago, " and it did produce the desired results." Standish knew he made his point.
The other team members nodded in silent agreement. That had been the first time in weeks that JD had actually smiled. Since the last bust, JD had withdrawn into himself. It had been a particularly violent end to a month long investigation. In the end, JD had a righteous shooting, no one had argued it. Not even IA…they had investigated it because it had to be done but everyone involved knew it had been righteous. If JD had not pulled the trigger then Nathan would have been dead as oppose to just suffering a concussion. Killing another person was tough enough, but to have that person be just a young, hot headed teenager looking to make a name for himself, thinking himself immortal, well that had drawn first blood from JD's heart. He had killed someone not much younger than himself. After that day, he had become morose and un-talkative and hardly smiled.
At least until a few days ago.
Last Sunday, Chris and Ezra butted heads again, like two Pit Bulls locked in the same room. At first, it was just small verbal jabs spoken with a smile, but the underlying tension blossomed. The others had watched, anxious to stop the escalating discontent. But when Chris and Ezra both realized they had JD's attention, the nature of the fight changed. The tension had leached out and a common goal, other than making the other miserable, had seemed almost attainable. The one liners, the snide remarks, while stinging in their own right, had been more amusing than vindictive. In fact, it had seemed both warmed up to the challenge of making the most outrageous sarcastic comments and veiled threats. Right up until Chris had tossed Ezra through the living room window of his ranch. Well not really tossed, if the others were pressed to recount the true bare facts. It had come about more as a pair of missteps on both parties, than any true intentions of sending someone through a glass window. It had simply come about as an accident, wrong place, wrong time, and Josiah's big feet in the way. But in the countless retellings of the story, embellished by those who had witnessed said event, it came across as if Larabee had picked Standish up over his head in a blind fit of murderous rage and hurled the undoubtedly deserving undercover agent out the window in a fit of anger. This rendition of the 'facts,' though, not nearly close to the truth, was infinitely more fun to relate to others. Despite, how Standish had come to be outside the Larabee home, the effect had been the same. As the undercover agent had slid through some shrubbery in a rain of protective glass, JD had cracked his first smile in a long time.
It had broken the ice.
Even now, walking through the sticky heat of a humid day, smiles and laughter still rolled through the group just thinking about that particular event.
"Ezra go." Chris's directive brought wandering minds back to the Fair and the current escalating debate.
" Why me?"
"Ezra just go," Nathan responded, bringing a weary hand to his forehead. The sno-cone stand he just passed looked good. The ex-paramedic turned around and headed back. Nathan would be damned if he was forced to sew anyone up today. Hopefully Ezra would keep his comments to a minimum. Though he was amusing most times.
"Who would raise Swine anyhow?" Standish fished for an understanding ally.
"Brother Ezra," Josiah's schooling voice hailed amused insightfulness, "without swine you'd have no pork chops or ham."
"Well thank you, Mr. Sam the Butcher Man," Ezra retorted.
"Hey, ain't he from the Brady Bunch?" JD asked no one in particular.
"Think so Kid," Vin responded.
Ezra continued as if no one had spoken, "And I'll have you know, Pork Chops come from the frozen food section of your local grocer….not some Pig Barn."
"Ezra you had better be walking in the direction of the barn," Larabee warned.
"He is," Vin answered back. The sharpshooter watched the undercover agent from the shade of a large over hanging maple tree. Tanner sat comfortably on an old Backhoe tire that had been converted to a circular bench. From the comfort of his shaded seat, while he licked at some ice cream, he watched the slow progression of the Southerner. Vin chuckled when Standish scuffled the toe of his sneakers in frustration, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
"He's pouting, guys." The amused laugh had the others joining him.
Standish lifted his eyes from the ground and surveyed the area. He spotted Tanner under the shade of the tree sitting on some mammoth tire. The undercover agent flipped off the sharpshooter.
"Play nice Ezra, there're kids around."
"Hey Ez, ya know where beef jerky comes from?" JD's taunting voice had the Southerner bobbing his head in satiric mimicry of Dunne's voice.
"The plastic, greasy jar, next to the register at every Ma and Pa gas station across this desolate state…."
"Oooohhh, he is pouting, isn't he?" Buck piped up. Wilmington leaned against the Frosty Treat vendor cart enjoying the cool air that blew from the refrigerator.
"I don't care what he's doing as long as he's heading for the Pig Barn," Larabee's order and threat were not masked exceedingly well.
Ezra sighed. The sacrifices he made for the team were just too much. Sacrifice myself above and beyond what a normal human being would do for another, at least according to Mother and still no appreciation from my friends…It should be criminal. Pigs….indeed…..Who would even buy a piglet, knowing that it would grow into a pig….And to think that people ate such things, himself included. He shuddered at that thought. Meat did not come off the hoof…It came from under cellophane, just behind the refrigerating mist at the grocery store.
Standish gazed around the crowd as he slowly made his way toward the 4-H fair side of the community festival. He paused and watched some of the games. He had learned to beat most as a small child. Maude did allow him to indulge in such nuances in order to practice his skill and turn his own profit. Besides when he won a fair amount, not many could complain. How could a grown adult or organization berate a 'lucky' kid when they themselves rigged the games for their own profit. Ezra smiled wickedly to himself….He almost longed for the days when others saw him as just a young, wide-eyed child too innocent for any mischief or treachery.
As the undercover agent perused the crowd, his gaze fell on another man and his partner. They looked hauntingly familiar.
Standish slowed to a stop.
The three men stared at one another. Recognition settled on them simultaneously.
"Good Lord." The worry in his voice had the others pausing.
Chris stepped back from the pony rides away from the squealing kids. He put his hand to the side of his head, forcing the little ear piece deeper into his ear.
Nathan sidestepped a crowd and found a quiet spot. JD backed away from the rides. Vin slowly stood up and Buck suddenly stopped speaking to a gorgeous brunette.
"What is it Ezra?"
"Hughes's henchmen just spotted me…." Ezra immediately began removing the earpiece as discreetly as he could, using the passing crowd as camouflage.
"What the Hell are they doing here?" Buck's urgent disbelief verbalized what ran through the other's minds. "Didn't he leave the country?"
"Ezra can you filter back into the crowd?" Larabee started walking in the direction of the 4-H barns.
"Chris, he took out his ear piece," Vin reported as he started making his way to the undercover agent. Though Ezra was dressed in well worn Levi's, sneakers and t-shirt, his hopes of not meeting one of his 'associates' and being recognized apparently didn't work.
Tanner watched as two men converged on the lone Southerner.
It did not look good.
Hughes was the big fish that got away. It was the one that marred a nearly spotless record. In the end, the warehouse had been destroyed, a whole block had gone up in flames, weapons had been destroyed and men had been injured. It was where the others had learned fire both fascinated and terrified the southerner, discovered just how much Vin could not stand to be confined in any sense of the word; and it was where Buck had taken a bullet to the shoulder snapping his clavicle. It had been a hellacious bust. No one won. The only good that did come out of it was they did not lose the 50K that Ezra had brought with him for the buy. Standish had somehow had enough sense to grab the overladen carrying case and make good his escape. Except for the dancing flames. Those had mesmerized him.
It was all in the past. Hughes had gotten away, but had been rumored to have cleared out of town, headed for different shores.
Until now.
Tanner quickened his pace, weaving in and out of the crowd, mumbling apologies as he shuffled people to the side as he skipped, jumped and worked his way between the throngs of people. Occasionally he hopped up to peer over the heads of the people trying to catch a glimpse of Standish.
Finally, the crowd thinned and Tanner broke into a jog, quickly crossing the distance to the three men. From the looks of it, Ezra was being 'encouraged' to go with the two men.
He, of course, balked.
Tanner smiled, A pain in the ass to the end…at least he was theirs.
"Sullivan!" Tanner shouted out. All three men turned and faced the approaching sharpshooter.
"Buck, JD? Can you guys see anything?" Chris asked as he wove his way toward the area where he hoped to find his agents.
"Nothing yet pard,'" Buck huffed out. The big agent ran the gauntlet through the thick crowd and now seemingly narrow lanes.
"Still by the rides," JD swore as he jogged down another dead end blocked by vendor carts.
"Still by the Truck display," Josiah breathed out. The big man pushed his way through people offering apologies to those that did not move quick enough.
"Can't see'em," Nathan's worried voice was punctuated by his soft repetition of 'excuse me' as he forced his way through the Saturday morning crowd.
"Shit," Larabee whispered to himself as he listened to what he could hear of the conversation over Vin's head set.
"Sullivan, where ya think ya goin'?" Tanner's cock sure tone had the three men stopping.
"He's with us." The big man gripping Standish's upper arm raised a lip in a snarl.
"Federal agent," Tanner flashed his badge, "and you boys don't want him…He's in a bit of trouble with us."
"Funny, my boss says the same thing," the second man spoke while pushing Standish and his partner ahead of him, keeping Tanner from reaching out and snatching their 'guest'.
"Still at it, huh, Sullivan?" Tanner's gruff demeaning snarl had Standish raising his eyebrows in mock shock.
"I have no idea what you gentlemen are talking about," Ezra kept his eyes on Vin silently hoping the others would show up.
Hughes had always claimed that Sullivan or Ezra had stolen the 50K from him. Hughes had figured that even though the weapons had never truly changed hands, and though Sullivan had not truly handed over the cash, even though the building had exploded around them, and the weapons had been destroyed, Sullivan had run with the cash. Cash that Hughes had thought rightfully belonged to him. When it was thought the crazed gunman had left the area, all was forgotten.
Apparently not.
"You're coming with me Sullivan," Tanner reached out to push the one over muscled henchman out of the way so he could grab hold of Ezra and physically draw him back across that invisible line to safety, within Vin's personal space, into his realm of physical protection.
"Ahh, you see gentlemen, I'm a wanted man," Ezra started trying to release his arm and head for Tanner. Impeccable timing Mr. Tanner…impeccable.
No back up visible. Could be worse….
Tanner stepped forward to grab Ezra, slightly turning his shoulder to the bodyguard closest to him.
Things went awry.
The bodyguard wasted no time and brought a punishing meaty fist down on the junction between Vin's shoulder and neck. The sharpshooter was driven to his knees.
Ezra tried to snap his arm free when he saw Tanner go down.
A lady screamed. A father grabbed his 2 year old son and turned his back to the four men fighting, shielding the boy with his body.
The crowd reacted, to the noise and movements.
Tanner tried to regain his feet but a solid boot to the side of the head sent him sailing sideways and falling limply to the ground.
Standish broke free of the first henchman and brought a side elbow into the bridge of the man's nose. The Hughes's security man swiveled his head just enough to catch a glancing blow off his cheek bone. Standish stepped through the blow with hopes of continuing his momentum and pivot on the second man.
A pistol shot rang out.
It snapped, almost like a fire cracker or a child's pop gun that was a little too loud and held its sound just a little too long.
Someone else screamed. An older sister grabbed her younger brother and threw him to the ground, covering him with her body. An old man with a cane dropped his walking stick and shielded the two children with his aged worn back.
Standish screamed and crumbled to the grassy dirt in a spiraling motion, clutching his bleeding leg.
Only two men still moved with any determination and alacrity. They grabbed either arm of the undercover agent, hauled him to his feet and sprinted for the grass parking lot.
Larabee heard the shot. He pulled his weapon and shouted, "ATF!"
Over the head sets, five voices could be heard shouting variations of "ATF! Federal Agents!"
Covered children watched quietly, awed and frightened, their bodies hidden and protected by crying and seething adults. Anger, frustration and terror roared through the cowering masses like a forest fire on a hot brittle day.
Five men converged on the scene, where one man lay crumpled on the ground where he had fallen. Blood streamed down from the cut on the side of his head. Long blood caked tresses of brown curly hair covered the side of his face.
Nathan dropped to one knee and rested his hand on the side of Vin's neck, "He's alive."
Larabee nodded, "Anyone see them?" The others merely shook their heads as they scanned the crowd.
A young girl frightened to near tears spoke up, her voice strong but scared. "That way," she pointed to the North, toward the parking lot. "They went that way." Four of the men instantly took off in that direction.
The black man turned and smiled reassuringly at the young girl who could not have been more than eleven. "Thanks ma'am."
The girl simply nodded either not realizing or not caring about the tears that streamed down her ruby cheeks. She slowly brought her tiny brother up from under her and hugged him fiercely.
Nathan chuckled to himself when he heard the younger brother mutter, "Quit it Sissy…'fore someone sees…."
Jackson then looked up and singled out one person in the gathering crowd and calmly asked, "call for an ambulance." That one person and three others flipped open cell phones.
Nathan turned his attention back to the sharpshooter who started to stir, "Easy Vin, ambulance is on the way."
Tanner brought a heavy hand up to his head, "Oh shit."
Nathan turned his gaze to the North side of the Carnival, in the direction of the parking lot, "Oh shit is right, Vin…son of a bitch."