Refuge

by Cindy Combs

  Ezra nodded as he read. "It appears that the entire Major Crimes unit, under a Captain Simon Banks, is extremely proficient. However, Detective Ellison is by far the star of the show."

  "Serial killers, bombers, kidnapping, designer drugs, high tech robberies..." JD shook his head in amazement. "The FBI even gave him a commendation for stopping an assassination attempt on a DEA agent. This guy does it all."

  "And does it well," Ezra added, impressed in spite of himself. "Our Mr. Tanner should be in good hands."

  "He better be," Chris softly growled. He wasn't going to stop worrying until he saw the younger man with his own eyes. He turned to look at Travis. "I'm going to Cascade." The judge nodded, having guessed that would be Chris' next course of action.

  "I'm going, too," Buck added. With his friend so wound up with worry, he figured the town of Cascade might need some protection.

  "If Buck's going, I'm going," JD chimed in.

  "Then I want the rest of you to head back to Denver," Chris ordered.

  "Chris..." Nathan started.

  "No." Chris shook his head. "Right now, we don't know who is friend or foe. I'd rather have you on our home turf until we get the information from Vin." He also wanted to get the injured Josiah out of the line of fire.

  "Take Standish with you to Cascade," the judge inserted.

  Ezra looked up in surprise. "Sir?" He knew the judge barely tolerated him.

  Travis sighed as he looked at the scowling, pacing Larabee. "Because you may be needed to run interference."

  Ezra nodded. Considering the mood Larabee was in, it might be a wise idea to go along as backup. Besides, he'd feel better himself once he saw Vin in person.

  Ellison's loft, Cascade

  "...Just don't give him any of those leaves like you gave me." Jim opened the door to his loft and entered. He tossed the keys into a basket next to the door, continuing into the room so that the others could follow.

  Vin walked behind him, with Blair bringing up the rear. The young detective shook his head at his obstinate partner. "They made you feel better, didn't they? Isn't that what cold remedies are for?"

  "Of course they did. They had peyote in them!" Jim gave his roommate a playful glare. Vin's eyes widened as he tried to picture Ellison on a powerful mushroom high.

  "No, they didn't. Simon said the analysis found peyote LIKE substances, not peyote itself."

  "I can just see myself giving that argument to IA..."

  The argument faded into the background for Vin as he looked about the spacious loft. The furnishing were different, and the place was certainly a lot cleaner, but otherwise it was almost the exact duplicate of Buck and JD's place. Without warning, Vin was bombarded with images. He could see Buck trotting down the stairs as he buttoned a wildly colored shirt. JD sitting cross- legged on the couch playing Nintendo. Josiah plugging in a crockpot of his famous chili sitting on the island. Ezra and Nathan arguing over whether Ezra was cheating at poker. Chris sitting by the balcony door, treating them to one of his rare smiles. The dark chasm of loss Vin had been avoiding opened beneath his feet, punching him in the stomach.

  Jim broke off his sentence when Vin suddenly raced past him, heading for the bathroom. He and Blair exchanged glances. "Medication?" Blair ventured, wondering how Vin knew where their bathroom was.

  Hearing the dry heaves, Jim shrugged worriedly. "Or else the situation finally caught up with him."

  Vin, sitting on the cold tile floor, finally laid his head on his crossed arms once his stomach quit heaving. Grief swamped him in darkness. Hot tears trailed down his face, despite his best efforts to rein in his emotions.

  Then a warm hand gently squeezed his trembling shoulder. Vin turned back towards Jim, wanting to apologize for his lack of control. Yet he just couldn't do anything more than place his face against Jim's broad shoulder as the tears continued to flow, intermingling with deep coughs. Finally, he managed to croak, "Sorry, Cap'n."

  "Nothing to be sorry about, Slick," Jim gently chided him as he continued to rub his shoulder. The memories of Peru, mixed with the remembered terror when the paramedics had pronounced Blair dead two years ago, gave Jim a fairly good idea what the younger man was going through. "And it's just 'Jim' now."

  A few minutes later, Vin finally managed to lift his head up. The stubborn character that had survived the worst that life could throw at him was finding his feet to face the new challenge. Wiping away the moisture from his face, Vin met Jim's eyes. "Thanks."

  Jim gave his shoulder one last squeeze. "Any time, kid. I've been there." He stood up and gave Vin a hand. Realizing his friend needed a little time alone, Jim gently suggested, "Why don't you take your shower now?" Vin nodded.

  Thirty minutes later, Vin walked out of the bathroom clean, shaved, and presentable in new jeans and a T-shirt. Spotting him, Jim pulled out a chair at the dinning table in silent invitation.

  Blair turned away from the stove where he worked. "Hey Vin. Do you feel up for some breakfast?"

  Though not really hungry, Vin forced himself to nod. If he wanted to nail the bastards who had taken his team, he had to keep up his strength. Another cough rattled up from his chest.

  Both Jim and Blair frowned at the sound. "That's it," the younger detective declared. He reached into a cupboard and yanked down a box. "You're getting Uncle Obie's special blend number 3." Jim opened his mouth to comment, but Blair continued, "No Jim, it's not related to the leaves I gave you. Obie swears by it for colds."

  "That's suppose to be reassuring?" Jim questioned with a smirk as Blair set the steaming mug of tea in front of Vin. Blair's uncle was good intentioned but highly eccentric, especially when it came to herbs and cooking. The suspicious sentinel sniffed the scents that drifted from the mug with the Jags logo. "Peppermint... Echinacea... lemon balm... licorice?" He looked at Blair, puzzled.

  Blair shrugged as he reached for the toast popping up. "Not sure, though that sounds about right."

  Inhaling, Vin could feel his muscles loosen. He hadn't really noticed how tight his chest felt before. "Smells good. Thanks, Blair." Stared down at his cup, Vin softly added, "And I'm sorry for earlier."

  Blair waved a spatula in the air. "Not a problem. Now, I hope you like scrambled eggs..."

  Vin relaxed a fraction more. For some reason, Jim's partner reminded him of a young, short Josiah, when he wasn't bouncing and talking up a storm like JD. Glancing around the loft, Vin felt the grief inch closer.

  "Vin?" Blair asked softly, noticing the melancholy stretching across his face.

  Closing his eyes, Vin shook his head. "Sorry. Just that..." He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself under control. "This place looks a lot like the CDC, only cleaner."

  "CDC?" Jim asked, his eyebrows lifting in puzzlement.

  "The Center for Disease Control?" Blair qualified, just as confused.

  "Buck and JD's place." A faint twist curved his lips. "Ezra called it the CDC because he was sure there are," Vin shifted his voice into a southern accent, "all sorts of infectious diseases thriving in that abode." With another deep breath, the agent forced the image of Ezra shuffling his cards from his mind, wishing the pain of loss was so easy to handle.

  While chuckling, Blair exchanged glances with Jim. No wonder their guest was having such a hard time here. Scooping the eggs onto the plate and dropped some toast on the side, Blair slid the meal in front of Vin. "Here you go."

  "Once you're done, we'll head in to headquarters," Jim added. The sooner they got Vin away from the memories and back on the case, the better.

  Blair gave Vin a smile, trying to gauge whether the agent needed to talk about his friends. "Guess JD and Buck don't have to live by Jim's house rules like I do."

  Vin chuckled as he speared some eggs with his fork. "I don't think either of them would know what a 'rule' was. All of the Seven have this bad tendency of breaking them."

  Jim missed Blair's reply as a noise registered on alert sentinel ears. Tilting his head, Jim heard the elevator do
or open. Wondering if Simon had decided to drop by, Jim stood up from the table. Then he paused as he detected at least four different sets of footfalls. Upon hearing the distinctive click of a cocking gun, he drew his own weapon and exclaimed, "Company! Chief, your room!"

  Vin dropped his fork at Jim's sudden order. Before he could figure out how his former captain knew that, Blair was grabbing his arm and rushing him to the bedroom under the stairs. Jim followed behind, shielding the younger men with his body. As they entered the small door, Vin could hear something heavy break down the front door. He quickly yanked his backup gun from the small of his back and slipped off the safety.

  "Over here!" Blair raced to the window and threw up the sash. He then quickly scooped up his cell phone and gun off his dresser nearby.

  Joining him, Vin noted the fire escape outside. Must be my week for window exits. The sounds of bullets striking wood and Jim's return fire urged him on.

  "Oh, man," Blair moaned softly as he swung a leg over the sill. "I hate heights." Yet the slim man slipped out with practiced ease. Cell phone open and tucked under a shoulder, he scaled down the fire escape. Tersely, he called, "Dispatch, officers under fire on Prospect..."

  Vin followed him, then ducked when someone fired from below at the end of the alley. Vin returned fired. His target fell in a heap. Then the agent scrambled after Sandburg to the ground. He wobbled a moment when his feet touched the pavement, yet a firm grip steadied him. Blair then guided Vin down the alleyway. Hearing more shots, both young men turned with weapons drawn to see Jim ducking as he scrambled down the ladder. Vin fired another shot at the heads poking out the window as Blair checked the sidewalk, his gun held close to his chest and ready to clear their path. After a couple of brief glances, Blair led Vin and Jim around the corner.

  There, pouring out of their vehicles, were four Cascade patrol officers and fellow Major Crimes detective Joel Taggart. Blair led Vin to Joel's car as Jim directed the others to find their attackers.

  "Still dizzy?" Blair softly asked once Vin was seated. Blue eyes glanced at him in surprise. Blair chuckled. "I've been conked on the head myself a time or two. I know the symptoms."

  Vin gave him a weak smile. "Me, too. And it's getting better."

  "And the headache?"

  "A little worse," Vin admitted, then coughed.

  Blair hid his frown with a shrug. "Not surprising, considering our recent adrenaline burst and the fact you didn't get a chance to eat your breakfast."

  "No breakfast?" A huge bear of a man shook his head, pulling off his jacket as he approached. "We need to take care of that soon." He gently draped the large, warm garment around Vin's shoulders.

  Seeing the puzzled expression on Vin's face, Blair indicated the man with his hand. "Vin, I'd like you to meet my friend, Joel Taggart. He's with Jim and me in Major Crimes. Joel, this is Vin Tanner."

  "Hi, Vin." The young agent was amazed at the large yet gentle hand that shook his. "Any friend of Jim's is a friend of mine."

  All three looked up when Jim approached. "The perps?" Blair asked grimly.

  "Took off in the suburban, except for the one Vin got. O'Dell is calling in an APB on the vehicle." Jim then gently laid a hand on Vin's shoulder. "How are you doing?"

  "I'm okay, Cap'n," Vin answered with a shrug.

  Jim sighed. "It's Jim now, remember? We're not in the Army anymore."

  Vin gave him a faint smile, a spark of his mischievous nature in its depth. "Sorry. Just that I've always thought of you as 'Captain'. Kinda hard to change." Blair smirked. While his partner was adept at giving others nicknames, it was rare when someone could come up with one for him.

  "Well, I'm a detective now, not a captain." Suspecting Vin wasn't as okay as he claimed, Jim gently held Vin's head steady between his hands as he checked his eyes. "Do you remember the plate on the other Suburban chasing you? We might as well put out an alert on it." He noted the pale skin and faint lines indicating a headache, but none of the danger signs for a serious head injury.

  Vin gave him an innocence look. "It's out of the picture."

  Jim leveled a stare at him. "What did you do?"

  Vin shrugged nonchalantly, wincing slightly. "Guess those things aren't meant to chase a bike down a mountainous elk trail."

  Both Blair and Joel laughed, picturing the scene in their minds. Jim could only smirk as he carefully eased Vin's injured arm from under Joel's jacket, checking the bandage.

  But as much as Blair wanted to hear more details of Vin's escape, he was worried about his new friend. "Why don't we head to the department and see about getting Vin some more protection."

  "And pick up some breakfast for him on the way," Joel added.

  Jim gently cuffed Vin's head. "Let's go."

  Plane between Idaho and Colorado

  Josiah glanced at Nathan sitting in the seat next to him. The worried gaze was becoming a bit much. "Nathan."

  His friend slightly shook his head and glanced up into the big man's blue eyes. "You feeling okay?"

  "I'm fine, Brother. You're the one acting like he's carrying all the burdens of the world."

  Nathan sighed. "I wish Chris would have taken me along. I could have checked Vin out. I'm familiar with how he covers up everything with that shrug and misdirection business. In some ways he's worse than JD."

  "Chris can read him, too," Josiah reminded as he continued to study his friend. "Sure that's not just guilt talking?"

  "No," Nathan denied, then paused. "Okay, yeah, I wish I'd gone with Vin, or had sent JD with him. Maybe none of this would have happened."

  "Or we'd have had two of you missing or perhaps dead." Josiah shook his head. "You can't win at the 'What if' game, my brother. You can only deal with what is."

  Self blame still evident in his dark eyes, Nathan could only stare at the call button above him. "I keep imaging what Vin must be going through, thinking we're all dead. He'd be alone, hurting both physically and emotionally. Nor do we know anything about this Ellison that he went to for help. Does the guy have any idea how to handle that kind of grief? How to read Vin? You know how Vin is, he won't tell you he has a problem."

  Now Josiah sighed. He, too, wondered about the man Vin had sought shelter from. "Vin doesn't go to just anyone for help. Vin has to be pretty desperate just to ask for help at all."

  "Exactly," Nathan pounced. "Vin must have been desperate. And when you're desperate, you're not always as choosy as you should be. After all, Vin has never mentioned this guy before, not even to Chris."

  "Vin hasn't told us much of anything about his time in the Army." Josiah frowned, wondering if that silence was due solely to classified missions or perhaps something else. He pushed the question to the side. "So it's not so strange Vin hadn't mentioned this guy."

  "I still want to do some digging on him. Certainly more than Ezra's peek into his police work."

  "I'll do it. You have to work on reports and do some digging for our 'rat'." Josiah waved at his leg. "Besides, I'm technically on sick leave anyway."

  Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Which is why you should go home and rest."

  Josiah looked at him in surprise. "Do you honestly think I'm going to get any rest until I know Vin is safe? Besides, just because we're in Denver doesn't necessarily mean we're safe, either. I'm going to watch your back, brother."

  Nathan could only shake his head in defeat.

  Major Crimes, Cascade

  Vin took a sip from a dark ceramic mug. He could tell Jim's tall, dark captain was proud of his gourmet coffee. Personally, he didn't think it was strong enough, but Ezra would have loved it. Pushing the pang of grief aside, he studied the office. Filled with African American figurines and other memorabilia, the room felt alive in comparison to the grayness inside the agent. Of course, Captain Banks' strong personality probably had something to do with it, too.

  Glancing out the glass panes to the bullpen outside, he spotted Blair talking with a tall detective in a nice suit, handing him a folder. Vin smirked a momen
t, wondering if Blair ever got a kink in his neck looking up at his colleagues. Only the pretty female inspector from Australia seemed to be under six foot. Yet he noticed that Sandburg received the same tremendous respect that the others held for Ellison. But then, it would take a strong personality to keep up with his former captain. Just as it would take a strong personality like Banks to keep Jim in line. Ellison seemed to have found his place in the world. Vin couldn't help but think that he had lost his.

  "Slick?"

  The agent looked up to find Jim gazing worriedly at him. "I'm okay. Do we have any information on Rat Tail?"

  Jim held back a sigh. He knew exactly what Vin was doing, because that's how HE would handle a similar situation. All he could do was help the young man obtain justice, then be there to pick up the pieces when it didn't bring his friends back. "Blair's getting it now."

  As if hearing his name, Blair knocked and walked into his captain's office. "I just caught a glimpse of the Commissioner heading this way."

  Simon, trying to hide his smirk at Sandburg's continued uneasiness in Mathew's presence, replied, "Maybe he was able to contact Judge Travis."

  Vin struggled to keep his cool as the blond man in his early forties walked in. He so desperately hoped that the man had reached the judge. Standing up, he managed a calm facade as Captain Banks introduced him to Commissioner Mathews.

  Mathews gave him a gentle smile. "I have some very good news for you, Agent Tanner. I reached Judge Travis, and he said there were NO fatalities in the raid a few days ago."

  "No fatalities?" Vin whispered, eyes wide. It took a moment for the implications to set in. "Everybody's okay?" Jim helped him to sit in the chair behind him as his knees gave way. "Thank God." He ran trembling hands through his hair as his body reacted to his intense relief. He barely noticed the enthusiastic whap on the back Blair gave him, or Jim rubbing his shoulder as coughs intermixed with gasps of air. Then a shaky thought broke through the shock. "Ah, hell, Chris is gonna kill me for not reporting in."

  Jim barely held back a chuckle before pinning the commissioner with a direct gaze. "Was Judge Travis able to give you any more information?"