Refuge

by Cindy Combs

  "Cap'n?" Dazed blue eyes blinked at him, then closed in pain.

  "You can call me Jim now, Slick." Noting both an entry and an exit wound, Jim asked, "When did you get shot?"

  "This morning near Wenatchee. I tried to call the judge who backs our team, but there must be a bug or something, 'cuz the men chasing me found me there. They nailed me as I was getting away."

  "The stitches?"

  "In Coeur D'Alene when our operation went bust. Something exploded behind me." Vin shivered, still remembering the violent explosion erupting near several of his teammates' position. A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. Looking up, Vin drew strength from the concerned blue eyes. He had forgotten how good it felt having Jim Ellison looking out after you. It was almost as good as having Chris Larabee by his side.

  "We should get you to a hospital," Jim commented worriedly.

  Vin gingerly shook his head. "Rather not. Last time I was in the hospital, people came in shooting at me."

  Jim gave him a reassuring grin. "Yeah, but you weren't in a Cascade hospital with the city's finest guarding you."

  Beginning to return the grin, Vin jumped when the door opened. A man about his age and JD's size dashed in, arms full and dark curly hair flying. Jim squeezed Vin's shoulder again, sentinel senses already aware of his guide's return. "Vin Tanner, I'd like you to meet my partner, Blair Sandburg."

  Blair gave him a friendly smile. "Hi, Vin. Got some dry clothes here for you."

  "First aid kit?" Jim requested. Blair handed it to him.

  Thirty minutes later, Vin was in a dry pair of Blair's sweats, wrapped in a blanket with his arm bandaged. Blair handed him a cup of coffee. Vin savored the warmth seeping through the Styrofoam to his hand.

  Serious, Jim sat on the opposite bed facing the younger man as Blair took a nearby chair. "What happened in Coeur D'Alene?"

  Vin closed his eyes for a moment. He had been trying to avoid thinking about the operation. Yet he needed help to figure out what had gone wrong, and Jim was about the only one left besides the judge that he trusted. He took a steadying breath, hoping to get through the ordeal without falling to pieces. "My team out of Denver was asked to check out a lead about a guy in Idaho selling illegal weapons to militias. We set up in Coeur D'Alene, and soon Standish, our undercover agent, was in. He arranged for his Colorado 'Commander' to buy a selection of automatics and a rocket launcher. We were going to bust them at the delivery..."

  Two days before, Coeur D'Alene, ID

  "In position," Vin spoke softly into his mike. He was sprawled flat on the warehouse roof, rifle resting on the raised border. He peered down into the alleyway where his partners and the militia guys were meeting. As the group's sharpshooter, Vin's job was to keep an eye out for possible problems and protect his guys should things go bad. JD radioed an acknowledgement. He and Nathan Jackson were in a van a half mile away, monitoring the bust. Other ATF agents were getting into position to give Denver's Team 7 backup.

  He spotted the large SUV they had obtained for the meeting pulling into the one end of the alley. First, Buck Wilmington stepped out. More serious than normal, the tall ladies man checked his surroundings, playing the part of a second-in-command well. As a white van pulled into the other end, Erza Standish stepped out, ready to greet the other group. He was followed out of the car by Chris Larabee. Dressed all in black, the blond man looked like a tough commander of a band of militia men. Vin knew that their fourth man, Josiah Sanchez, would stay at the wheel of the SUV in case they needed a fast getaway.

  Listening in on the deal Ezra was weaving, Vin again surveyed the area. Unexpectedly, he spotted movement in the building across from him. Training his scope, Vin detected a dark figure working on something. For a brief moment, the face was caught in a ray of light. The sharpshooter's gut clenched. It had been years since he had seen Michael Rattall, but there was no way Vin would forget that ugly face. Fearful, Vin focused in on the object of Rat Tail's attention. Focusing harder, he spotted several small wires attached to a remote control. Vin reacted instantly. "Bomb!" he shouted into his mike. "Get outta there, it's a trap!" Vin aimed his rifle on Rattall, who had inconveniently ducked down out of sight.

  Below, Buck drew his weapon as Chris grabbed Ezra's arm, jerking him towards the dubious shelter of a dumpster. An explosion erupted close by in the alley. Before Vin could check on his teammates, another explosion blew up behind him.

  Present, The Redwoods

  Vin slowly shook his head. "Next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. Alone."

  Jim and Blair exchanged puzzled glances. Catching the looks, Vin softly explained, "Any other time I've woken up in a hospital, Chris or one of the others has always been there. You see, none of us has family. Well, except for Ezra, and I rather doubt his mother would be his first pick as a hospital visitor. So we tend to look out after each other. Hell, Ezra's got most of the hospitals in Denver convinced Chris and I are brothers, JD and Buck are brothers, he's Josiah's cousin..." Vin chuckled softly. "I keep wondering what he's going to do if Nathan ever goes in, since I rather doubt anyone's going to buy any of us as his blood relatives." With a twist of his gut, Vin suddenly realized that now that scenario would never occur. Pushing back his grief, he continued, "So when no one was there, I got a really bad feeling, and it wasn't just my headache..."

  Two days before, Coeur D'Alene Memorial

  The small room was sterile, plain and very lonely from Vin's point of view. Nothing made sense. Seeing Rat Tail, the bombs, being alone, nothing made sense at all. Listening for a familiar voice, Vin focused on the conversation in the hall outside his room.

  "...Looking for family, but apparently Mr. Tanner's not local. I understand that the rest of his team died in that commotion down in the warehouse district, so there's no one to ask..."

  Vin felt panic rise up inside. Everyone is gone? Dead? Chris? Ezra? Surely not JD or Nathan, since they were away from the blasts. No, they couldn't all leave him. Surely Chris was too tough to die.

  Trying to stay calm, Vin woozily sat up. Yanking out the IV, he carefully stood. Once the room stopped spinning, he wobbled over to the closet. Good, his clothes were there. Vin hated the open backed hospital gowns. Nor would it be adequate covering to search for the truth about what happened to his team.

  Vin had finished buttoning the flannel shirt over his T and was glaring at his dreaded, ripped up ATF jacket when he heard a gun being cocked in the hall. Instantly, the agent grabbed his backup piece still hidden in his boot, wishing the rest of his weapons hadn't been confuscated by the hospital staff. He slipped to the door and pushed it open a tad, spotting Rat Tail and another man approaching his room.

  Without another thought, Vin dashed over to the room's one window. Spotting the fire escape, he frantically pushed up the window and climbed out, wincing as his sore head protested the movements. Agilely, he slipped down the metal ladder, feet touching the ground when he heard someone shooting into his room. Vin turned and ran.

  Thirty minutes and numerous city blocks later, Vin had found the hotel they'd been staying at. His head pounding, he leaned against a tree trying to catch his breath. When he lifted his eyes, he spotted several of the gun dealers he had been watching enter the lobby. Walking alongside them was Troy Donner, a local ATF agent who had led one of the backup teams.

  "Damn," he whispered to himself. The locals were part of the gun-selling ring? Was there anyone in Coeur D'Alene he could count on? Without dependable backup, there was no way he could handle four men by himself. Especially with his head trying to tear itself apart. He had to get away, go someplace where he could regroup and think.

  Then he remembered the rental car. Parked near the back of the lot, the team had left it there after deciding to take the van. The sharpshooter worked his way over, crouching down and slipping in between the other vehicles. With skills Vin had almost forgotten about, he quietly broke into the Buick. He found the spare key where Buck had hid it the day before. The car started, engine runnin
g as Vin reached to grab his leather jacket from the back seat. He pulled out his wallet, swearing when he realized he only had twenty dollars. Searching the vehicle, he found a handful of change JD had tossed into the glove compartment. Glancing back at the fuel gauge, Vin halted his movements. The tank was nearly empty. He really didn't have the money to fill the large car up, nor did he want to hang out at a gas station in plain sight until he knew what was going on. He glanced towards the front of the hotel. There was his motorcycle in full view of the lobby with its better mobility and nearly full tank of gas. Did he dare?

  A few minutes later, Vin was zipping out of the parking lot. He didn't look back to see who was yelling.

  Present, The Redwoods

  "...Next thing I knew, I was going west. I tried heading towards Denver, but two black Suburbans started following me. Took forever to lose them." Vin blinked wearily. "I was going to contact the local police in Spokane, but there were a couple of government cars with Idaho plates in the parking lot, so I didn't know if the corruption had spread there, too. Then I tried calling the judge, first in Spokane, then in Wenatchee, but they were on me instantly. I almost didn't get away last time."

  Seeing that Vin was nearly asleep again, Jim gently patted his back. "Why don't we get you to Cascade and let a doctor check you out?"

  "Don't wanna see a doctor," Vin protested wearily. "Already saw one, I think."

  Jim rolled his eyes and was about to comment when Blair, standing by the window, softly asked, "Was the license plate on one of those Suburbans Idaho, WEX-980?"

  Vin's head immediately shot up. "Yeah."

  "They're just pulling into the parking lot."

  Vin was instantly on his feet. "Shit."

  "Easy." Jim grabbed the younger man as he wobbled. "Where's your motorcycle?"

  "Parked it in the brush behind the sign."

  Blair continued to watch the men in the suburban. "I don't think they've noticed it. I think they're just fishing." He exchanged glances with his partner, wondering if the clerk would tell them about Vin.

  Jim shrugged his shoulders in reply. He didn't know. However, he didn't want them to get caught in the room. "How many men, Slick?"

  "Five."

  Jim would try to arrest them, except that he and Blair were well outside their jurisdiction. Plus his main concern was getting Vin someplace safe, preferably within Jim's own territory. "I'll go check it out. You two prepare to make a run for the truck." Pulling out his cell phone, Jim hit the speed dial, causing Blair's phone to ring. The young detective instantly picked it up and punched the 'receive' button. "Keep the line open. I'll tell you when to run if we have to." Blair nodded his agreement as Jim slipped out of the room.

  Jim tucked himself into an alcove where he could see the front desk without necessarily being seen himself. He studied the three large men as one questioned the clerk. The sentinel focused his hearing on the conversation.

  "...No, haven't seen anyone with a motorcycle. Someone came by to pick up somebody with motor trouble, but I didn't see anyone with a leather jacket..."

  Carefully, Jim withdrew. He spotted a fourth man looking around the other side of the lobby and down the hall. Trying to look casual, Jim plucked three quarters into a vending machine. He whispered into his cell as he punched a button at random. "Okay, I've found four in the lobby."

  "I see contestant number five still with the vehicle," Blair softly replied.

  "On the other side of the hotel from the truck, right?" Jim picked up his can and glanced at the label, which read 'Dr. Pepper'. Damn, he hated Dr. Pepper.

  "Yeah, but truck's fairly close to the lobby."

  Jim focused his sight on Vin's hunters. "If you two head out now, I don't think they'll see you. I'll make a show of looking at the pool and meet you there." Dialing down his sense of taste, Jim popped the can and wandered towards the swimming pool.

  "Got it." Upstairs, Blair looked at Tanner. Pale and exhausted, the man was about to become a puddle on the floor, but determination shone in his eyes. "Let's go."

  Walking down the hall, Jim listened as the fourth guy joined his buddies in the lobby. They were debating on whether Tanner had stayed on the highway or taken a back road. He glanced outside. Sandburg and Tanner dashed through the rain to the truck. Blair had draped a blanket over Vin's head, as if to keep the rain off. Jim suspected it was more to keep anyone from recognizing the agent. Draining the can and trying not to grimace, Jim tossed the empty into the recycle bin and walked out to join his friends in his truck.

  Blair had already started the engine when Jim climbed in. "Anyone noticing us?"

  "Not yet. Just act normal, Chief, and hopefully we won't attract attention." Jim turned away from the window to Vin. "Keep your head down, Slick. If they don't see you, they won't connect us."

  Trying to act like driving Jim's truck was an every day occurrence, Blair put it in gear and backed out. Several miles down the rural highway, he glanced at his partner. "Are we being followed?"

  "No," Jim replied.

  "How's Vin doing?"

  Jim glanced down. Vin, in trying to keep out of sight in the cramped truck, had fallen asleep with his head resting on Jim's chest. "Out. Probably has a mild concussion. Catching a cold, too."

  "Getting shot and being chased across the whole state of Washington probably didn't help, either." Blair took his eyes off the road long enough to catch Jim's gaze. "Hospital?"

  "Hospital," Jim confirmed. Looking down on the wavy hair, Jim could only wish the rest of his old friend's problems were so easily solved.

  Present, Coeur D'Alene

  The atmosphere was tense in the safehouse where the Denver ATF agents had holed up in after their operation had gone so wrong. A tall, blond man limped as he furiously paced the room. However, the gashed knee was the least of Chris Larabee's concerns. He wanted to know what had happened to his bust. He wanted to know what had happened to the perps they were trying to bust. He wanted to know who planted the explosives that had himself and two other members of his team trapped under building rubble for five hours. But most of all, he wanted to know what had happened to the man who was a younger brother in all but blood.

  How could they just lose him like that? While Nathan had taken care of Josiah's gashed forehead, JD had been showing the other agents where Chris, Ezra and Buck were buried. Somehow, the three of them had been sheltered from the crushing debris by the dumpster and a slab of concrete wall. Both JD and Nathan had seen medics load an unconscious Vin into an ambulance. Nathan had wanted to go with him, but between the cramped quarters in the vehicle and worry about Josiah, still trapped in the partially crushed SUV, he had stayed at the scene. All had assumed they would end up at the same hospital. It had been a bad assumption. By the time they had all been sorted out and patched up, no one knew where their seventh man was.

  By the time the limping Chris, followed by a battered Ezra and a worried Nathan, arrived at the other hospital, they found the staff in an uproar. Vin's room had been riddled with bullets, but there was no evidence that Vin had been hit. In fact, the opened window and Vin's missing clothes pointed to the fact that the sharpshooter had managed to escape, in spite of his concussion. The only item left was Vin's ATF jacket, his cell phone left behind in the pocket.

  However, Vin had simply disappeared. Chris didn't know if whoever had shot up the room had taken the younger agent, though JD's discovering that Vin's bike was missing suggested otherwise. Nor did they know if Vin was more seriously hurt, though Nathan's calls to the surrounding area hospitals hadn't turned up anything. Chris knew from experience that Vin had a hard head. He just worried that sooner or later the younger man would be hit on that hard head one too many times.

  Though what really worried Chris was that Vin hadn't called. While Chris' own cell phone had been crushed in the fallout, both JD's and Nathan's still worked. Why hadn't Vin tried to contact them? Buck had even called Vin's handful of friends in Denver, only to find no one had heard from him.
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  "You know, you can't help him if you make that knee worse." A tall, trim black man had just entered the living room from the kitchen.

  Chris glared at Nathan. The former medic simply glared back, used to his teammate's volatile moods. He sat on the arm of a long couch that had seen better days.

  Already stretched out on the brown and green monstrosity was Josiah. The big man's broken leg was elevated on some pillows. He softly added his own two cents. "He's good, Chris. They won't catch him."

  Continuing to pace Chris finally declared, "Why, Josiah? Why would they go after Vin like that? No one has tried to go after the rest of us."

  "Maybe because the rumors have most of us dead," Josiah pointed out. The local paper that morning had declared that several of the ATF agents had died in the rubble, when in fact no one had.

  "Perhaps Mr. Tanner observed something that someone doesn't wish for him to report."

  Chris stopped pacing and stared at his undercover agent. Ezra stared back, his own worry for their missing teammate shining in his normally well-controlled eyes. "Vin did warn us just before everything went up," Chris mulled.

  "Yes, he did. He was also in the ideal position to see everything unfolding below him." Ezra shifted in the chair, his own bruised body complaining. "We are missing an important piece of the puzzle, gentlemen. It may be the one Vin is holding."

  "Then why hasn't he called?" Frustrated, Chris ran a hand through his hair.

  "Maybe because he thinks we're dead?" Buck suggested as he and JD walked into the room. They had been doing some more digging at the hospital where Vin had been staying.

  "Yeah, everyone at the hospital thinks Vin's team is dead," JD added. He plopped into another chair. "Maybe Vin heard them talking before he had to run."

  "So Vin hasn't called us because he doesn't think we're alive to contact?" Nathan questioned, feeling his stomach contract. They had come close a few times to losing a member or two of the team, and that had been bad enough. Nathan couldn't even imagine losing everyone.