Wrong Place, Wrong Time

By Mady Bay - [email protected]

May 27, 2003

A Without A Trace/Magnificent Seven ATF/AU crossover

Rated PG-13

This is for Suzy and the DD gang.

"Where the hell is Fitzgerald this time?"

"Colorado," Vivian replied.

"Colorado?" Jack repeated? "Ski trip?"

"Among other things. Said he's got some relatives and friends near Denver."

"He gonna be there the whole two weeks?"

"That was the impression I got."

+ + + + + + +

Martin waited patiently as the crowd began to gather around the conveyor belt. The buzzer had sounded and it had started moving, just seconds ago. He was amazed at how the people clamored around, awaiting their luggage, as if their suitcase would never come back around again if they didn't get it the first time. Peeking over the shoulder of a young woman, he thought he spied his own suitcase, black like seventy five percent of the others, he picked it out by spotting the red, white and blue bandanna he'd knotted around the handle. Now he just needed his skis…. There they were, in the fluorescent green bag, no mistaking that one for someone else's.

Suitcase and skis gathered up, Martin headed for the rental car desk.

+ + + + + + +

"Hey, Chris?" JD called, leaning against the office doorjamb. "Buck and I are ready to head out to interview Wellings. Anything else we need to know?"

"Don't think so," Chris replied. "I think Buck has a pretty good handle on him. He knows what buttons we need to press."

"You gonna pick up Vin at the airport? He's due back today, right?"

"I was supposed to, but he changed his flight to a later one. Something about being able to visit a friend in Charlotte. He won't be back until late tonight, said he'd take one of the hotel shuttles and then the bus or something."

"You're not gonna let him do that, are ya?" JD balked.

"When's the last time you argued with Vin?"

JD just shook his head and left the office.

+ + + + + + +

"Two weeks. Two weeks of snow, snow, snow," Martin said to himself as he drove away from the airport. "No missing people to find. No smart-ass comments from Danny. No snide remarks from Samantha. No mothering from Vivian. And no silent treatment from Jack. Just fun, sun and snow. And maybe some snow bunnies…" He smiled at the last remark. Shook his head when he realized that he was just quoting Danny and Samantha's comments when he told him of his vacation plans. "And yes, Vivian, I brought my extra gloves and hats."

+ + + + + + +

"You sure that's him? Thought you said he'd be heading toward the city," Zeke asked.

"I'm positive. I know what he looks like, I was there at the trial, you know. And you saw the flight information - that was his name on the passenger list!" Tony replied.

"Fine. Then let's do this. There's no one else around."

+ + + + + + +

Martin caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Checking the side and rearview mirrors, he saw the car coming up quick, ready to pass him.

"Moron," he muttered at the driver, as he slowed down and moved a little to the right of the lane, giving the car plenty of room to pass.

He didn't expect the car to slam right into him.

"God dammit!" he shouted, trying to gain control of the car, keep it on the road.

He lost his grip on the steering wheel the second time the car hit his and found himself heading toward the shoulder. Hitting the brakes and grabbing the wheel, Martin tried to control the inevitable crash into the guide rail, but a third hit to the car sent it spinning around, only to have the driver's side hit the rail, and Martin's body slam into the door and window.

Zeke and Tony got out of their car and rushed over to Martin's, their guns drawn.

"Looks like he got knocked out!" Zeke called out to his brother.

"Good, it'll be easier," Tony replied. "You grab him, I'll grab his stuff."

Looking around, making sure there were no other cars coming, the two quickly put Martin and his luggage into the trunk of their car. Zeke got out the duct tape he'd had readied there and bound Martin's hands and feet and placed another piece over his mouth. Looking around once more, he closed the trunk.

"What about the car?" Zeke asked.

"Follow me," Tony replied, getting into the driver's seat of the rental. "I know a place we can ditch it."

+ + + + + + +

Headache. Bad headache. Those were Martin's first thoughts as he woke up. His next thoughts were of panic, when he realized that he couldn't move and couldn't see.

What the hell happened?! His mind raced to come up with answers and as he realized that he was bound, effectively gagged, and in the trunk of a car, he remembered the car that had struck his. Dammit! He took a deep breath through his nose. Calm down Fitz. Panicking isn't gonna get you anywhere. Think. He tried to recall the car that had hit him. Tried to remember if he saw the faces of the man… Men. There were two of them. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to see their faces. Shit! Another deep breath. Okay, next question. Why? I only just got to the airport. Haven't had time to piss anyone off or hit on someone else's girlfriend yet...

The car took a sharp turn to the right and stopped. Martin tensed. Was this it? He waited for the trunk to open, to see his captors. He heard voices, but couldn't make out the words. A car door opened and shut. Then he found himself rolling over as the car lurched forward and sped out. He wriggled around as best he could to get comfortable - as comfortable as one could get when tied up and stuck in the trunk of a car - and tried to think of a game plan. He tried his best to kick at the trunk's lid, hoping it might not have shut tight. He tried kicking at the tail light assembly, hoping to pop it out or break it. Nothing he tried helped. He was stuck.

He had no way to figure out how long he'd already been in the trunk of the car, but Martin figured that it must have been about an hour or so when the car came to its next stop and he heard the car doors open and close. Relax, Fitz. Can't fight 'em. Just wait and see. Wait and see.

At last the trunk opened and Martin had to shut his eyes against the bright sunlight.

"Come on, Tanner," Tony said as he grabbed Martin's arm. "Joy ride's over."

Zeke grabbed his ankles and the two men pulled Martin out of the trunk. Martin couldn't help but struggle, it came as a reflex to the manhandling. Unfortunately, he found himself heading face first to the ground.

"Oops," Tony muttered, staring down at Martin. "My hands slipped." He closed the trunk of the car and headed toward the house. "Bring him in," he told Zeke as he walked away.

Zeke looked at his brother and then at the man glaring at him at his feet. He shrugged his shoulders, grabbed Martin by the ankles and dragged him into the house.

+ + + + + + +

Vin Tanner looked at his watch again and groaned. Thirty-six hours. I'm gettin' too old for this shit, he thought, recalling the time spent partying, dancing, eating and…not sleeping, in Charlotte, North Carolina. And why is it that I can't ever sleep on these damn flights?

He'd spent the past two weeks attending various training seminars on the East Coast. The first was a firearms training session he taught at the ATF Academy. While there he found himself talking with the ATF big wigs about a new firearms contract. Apparently, one of the gun manufacturers putting in a bid had some deals that seemed to be too good to be true. Vin shook his head at that one. Money always wins. Don't mean shit if the guns are worthless, as long as they're cheaper. Next, it was up to an anti-terrorism seminar held in New York City, hosted by the NYPD and the New York

State Police. Then he found himself with two days to spare and decided to head to Charlotte to visit an old friend. Vin smiled. Best damn part of the whole trip! His wallet was a whole lot lighter, having to pay for the additional flights, himself. There was no way the business office in Denver would count that as a business trip. He realized that he never even bothered to cancel his return trip from New York. Oh well.

He rubbed his neck and stretched it out as he tried to get comfortable, resigning himself to the knowledge that he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. The Vinnebago. It'll be nice and quiet out there. Yup, I'll stop at the apartment, get the Jeep and head out there for the weekend. His plan set, Vin relaxed and put on the headphones as the in-flight movie began.

+ + + + + + +

Martin found himself on the floor of an empty bedroom. The house seemed to be in fairly good shape, what he saw of it anyway, as he was dragged through it. He'd tried to communicate with Zeke, tried to get the man to at least take the tape off his mouth so he could at least find out what was going on. He hadn't recognized either of the men. And they'd kept calling him "Tanner" so it was obvious that it was a case of mistaken identity. But until they take this fucking tape off me, they aren't gonna know that! he cursed.

They'd left him alone for a while, and Martin once again tried to loosen the tape holding his hands and feet together. It was useless, though. Zeke had done a good job. He heard the men talking about him, or the Tanner guy they thought he was. Shit. Why can't they be like normal thugs and go through my pockets looking for loose change? They'd find my wallet and driver's license and see that I'm not Tanner! Thinking about being searched, Martin wriggled his arms around a bit and realized that the men had taken his gun. Double shit!

He heard footsteps coming his way and watched as the two men entered the room. Again he mumbled through the tape, trying to get them to hear him, tell them that they'd made a mistake. But they ignored his pleas.

"Shut up, Tanner," Tony said, just before backhanding Martin across his face. "You're not going anywhere until Larabee brings us Mickey. You remember Mickey, right?" he asked, crouching down next to Martin, pulling his head up by his hair. "Your hair was a little longer then; you had it in that queer pony tail when you busted him. You set him up. And now, if Larabee and your other buddies want you back, they're gonna have to give Mickey back to us."

Martin tried to protest, say that he wasn't Tanner; that he didn't know who Larabee or Mickey were, but found himself backhanded once more. He struggled to get a breath through his nose as it bled; found himself gagging. He was forced to swallow down the vomit and blood.

Tony didn't care if he sent Larabee a dead man in return for Mickey, but apparently Zeke had some sense. "That's enough, Tony," he spoke up. "Larabee ain't gonna do squat for us if he's dead."

"Just making him look nice for the picture, Zeke. Show him we mean business."

Martin had just recovered and started to breathe on his own when he felt himself being pulled to a sitting position. Then, the flash of a camera momentarily blinded him. He heard the whirring motor of a Polaroid and saw Zeke pull a picture from it. A few seconds later it was held in front of his face.

"Think Larabee'll have it framed?" Tony asked and laughed.

Then he was shoved down the floor and left alone in the room once again.

+ + + + + + +

Vin turned the key again. "Shit!" he cursed as the Jeep's motor failed to turn over. Again. "One more time, come on, start for me, baby," he murmured as he tried the key one more time. "God dammit!" he shouted, pounding the steering wheel and dash with his fists. "I just wanna go get some sleep somewhere quiet," he whimpered, dropping his head down against the steering wheel.

"Vin? You okay?"

Vin looked up at the words and saw his neighbor, Joe Foley, standing next to the Jeep.

"Won't start again?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, the piece of shit," Vin replied, hitting the dash again. "Just when I really needed to get outta here."

Joe saw the tired and pained look on Vin's face as the bass on one of the other neighbors' boom boxes was upped a notch. "You heading out to that camp of yours for the weekend?" he asked.

"Was hopin' to. Jeep's got other plans."

"You wanna take my car?" Joe offered. "Marie and I are headed to her mother's for the weekend. We'll take her car."

"Nah, can't take your car, Joe," Vin responded.

"No, really, Vin," Joe cut in. "The car'll just sit here anyway."

"Well, if you're sure, Joe, I'd sure appreciate it."

"I'll go get the spare set of keys."

Fifteen minutes later, Vin was headed out of the city in Joe's car.

+ + + + + + +

Chris pushed the button on the remote again. Not much on to keep his interest, he'd been surfing through the channels, staying on the hockey game on ESPN for a few minutes, then heading back to CNN, then over to a western series on the Hallmark Channel then back to the hockey game again. Grabbing his beer and taking a swig, he went back to the western. Damn, that, cowboy looks familiar, he thought. Leaning back and relaxing, he was soon startled by the ringing of his phone.

"Larabee," he answered.

"Agent Larabee, this is Judy from the front desk. A package was dropped off for you a little while ago. We're treating it as a suspicious package at this time, but Agent Smith would like you to report here, to get your opinion."

"How is it suspicious?" Chris asked, already heading for the door.

"The man dropped it off at nine-thirty at night, for starters," Judy replied. "He wasn't from any delivery service or anything, just said he was a friend of yours and was dropping it off."

"I'm on my way."

+ + + + + + +

Martin stared at Zeke as he entered the bedroom. He didn't know what would be next. He only hoped that the man would remove the duct tape from his mouth so that he could tell them that they'd make a mistake. But then, they might just kill you outright, Fitz. Shit. Maybe he could bargain with them. From what he'd heard, Martin realized that Tanner must be some kind of law enforcement officer. Tony had mentioned Tanner busting Mickey and setting him up. Larabee must be one, too. Okay, Fitz, so they got the wrong cop. I can still be of value to them. This Larabee guy, if he is a cop, should still be willing to negotiate for a hostage, even if it isn't one of his own. Right?

"You gotta go? Because this is your only chance, Tanner. Take it or leave it," Zeke offered, coming to stand in front of Martin.

Martin nodded his head. This could be the opportunity he needed to escape…

"And don't think of trying anything, Tanner, or it's gonna hurt," Tony added from the doorway.

…or not. Maybe it would just be the opportunity to get the tape off.

Martin watched as Zeke sawed at the duct tape at his ankles. Once they were free, Zeke helped him rise from the floor and gave him a nudge toward the doorway.

"The only reason we're doing this, Tanner, is because we don't wantcha stinking up the place," Tony muttered as Martin and Zeke walked by, toward the bathroom.

Once there, Zeke pushed Martin in first and then cut the tape at his wrists. "Two minutes," he said and went to stand in the hallway.

Martin immediately brought his hands to his mouth and pulled at the tape. Fingers numb from being taped together for so long, it took him a few tries to get the tape off. He took a deep breath and tried to formulate his next plan of action. After his two minutes were up, Martin calmly walked out to the hall. Zeke and Tony were there waiting.

"Hands," Zeke ordered.

Martin hesitated, but a brief look at the gun Tony waved in his direction had him holding his hands out in front of him. "Look," he began. "You got the wrong guy. I'm not this Tanner guy."

"Bullshit!" Tony replied, shoving Martin face first into the wall. "I know you, Tanner. I watched you every day in that courtroom. You can't fool me."

"Just look in my wallet! My name is Martin Fitzgerald. Everything in there, my driver's license, the registration for my truck, my credit cards… My name is Martin Fitzgerald," he implored.

Curious, Zeke reached into Martin's back pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. Sure enough, there were the items Martin mentioned, all with the name Martin Fitzgerald on them.

"See?"

"It could just be a fake name, like that one you used when you were undercover and busted Mickey," Tony replied, shoving Martin into the wall again.

"Look again," Martin ground out. "Look at the FBI card in there. Do you think I'm gonna be undercover as an FBI agent? Where's the sense in that?"

Tony looked over at Zeke, his eyes questioning. Zeke flipped through the wallet some more and found the government identification card. He showed it to Tony.

"Looks legit," Zeke said, confusion obvious in his voice as he handed the wallet to Tony.

"It is. All you gotta do is call the FBI office in New York City. Ask for the Missing Persons Unit and they'll tell you that I work for them. That I'm Martin Fitzgerald, not this Tanner guy." Martin sighed tiredly. He'd been saying this to Tony and Zeke, if only mentally, for hours now. He wanted to get it over and done with. And hopefully with a happy ending.

"You're Tanner," Tony insisted, putting the wallet into his own pocket. "For as long as Larabee believes it."

"Then what?" Zeke asked. "What if Larabee doesn't believe. Hell, what if the real Tanner's there when he gets the picture?"

"Don't matter," Tony replied. "We still got us a hostage and he's still gonna give us Mickey."

+ + + + + + +

Vin turned down the road to his campsite and cursed. It was a seasonal use roadway, so plows didn't come through unless it was an emergency or one of the road residents paid a service to have it done. Most of the people living nearby had four-wheeled drive vehicles and could usually maneuver through the snow and mud. Like his Jeep usually could. As the wheels of Joe's car spun again, he looked up towards the sky and asked, "Why me?"

Grabbing his duffel bag and locking the car, Vin began walking the mile to the Vinnebago. By the time he got the generator going, with the heat turned up full blast, Vin had only one thing on his mind. Sleep. After taking off his coat and wet clothing, he pulled his cell phone and pager from his belt and turned them off. After putting them inside one of the kitchen cabinets along with his gun, Vin then headed for his bed. It didn't take long to fall asleep.

+ + + + + + +

Chris arrived at the Federal Building shortly after midnight. Judy pointed him in the direction of Agent Smith's office. Once there, he saw what had once been an ordinary looking yellow manila envelope sitting on Smith's desk. He recognized his name printed on the front.

"So?" he asked.

"So," Smith returned, "Some guy came in and asked Judy to give this to you. Said he was an old friend of yours. Before Judy could ask him anything, he was out the door. She called me, naturally, and we treated it as a suspicious package."

"I can see that. What'd you find?"

"No bomb, no traces of any drugs or biohazards," Smith replied.

Chris knew there was more. "But something else. What's in it?" he asked.

Smith handed Chris a pair of latex gloves. "Best you see for yourself," he said.

Chris knew he wasn't going to like what he saw, but picked up the envelope. Inside was a letter. Next to the letter, he saw the picture. He didn't want to take it out. He didn't want to look at the man in it. He stole a quick glance at Smith and saw the sorrow in his eyes. He took out the picture. It was slightly out of focus, taken too close. The duct tape hid half the face. Blood covered the nose and cheeks. The eyes looked a little red and puffy, but he could see the blue; could see the anger and defiance in them. It was Vin. But yet… Chris looked again. Something wasn't right, it didn't look like Vin. But it was Vin. Unable to look any more, Chris picked up the letter.

"God dammit," he swore.

+ + + + + + +

At least we made some progress, Martin thought. No more duct tape across my mouth. He was still left on the floor, bound hand and foot again, though. He wasn't sure what to do with his newfound freedom of speech. Any attempts he'd made to plea bargain with Tony or Zeke had met with failure - to the point of Tony getting rough again and giving him a black eye. Zeke… Martin knew that any further attempts to speak with the brothers had to be with Zeke. He seemed to be willing to listen to reason, at least.

He'd pretty much gotten the gist of what was going on. Apparently Zeke and Tony had another brother, Mickey. Mickey was currently in prison, possibly on death row or something, and this Tanner guy had worked undercover in order to nail him. Larabee was Tanner's supervisor or boss - someone high enough in their department's hierarchy that the brothers thought he could pull enough strings to get Mickey sprung. Then again, hostages will usually help pull those strings, too. Even if he was the wrong hostage.

Martin shook his head again. These guys must have been seriously whacked out during the trial if they can't remember what Tanner looked like; if they've mistaken me for him. All I wanted was a nice, quiet little vacation. A little snow, a little skiing, a nice woman to keep me warm maybe…How did it all go wrong? Somehow I gotta find a way to blame this on Danny. He set up that betting pool with Vivian, telling her that I wouldn't get lucky. Well, you got that right, Dannyboy.

Martin squeezed his eyes shut tight, wincing at the pain on the left side of his face. He dropped his head back to rest against the wall and sighed. That Larabee guy better be good, he thought.

+ + + + + + +

"Call 'em all in, Judy," Chris said as he headed for the elevator, picture, envelope and letter in hand. "Tell them to get here yesterday."

As he rode the elevator up, he looked at the picture again. How could he not know if this was his best friend or not? Sure, they always say that everyone's got a double somewhere in the world, but that's just what they say… Right? Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair as he exited the elevator and headed toward his office. Didn't matter if it was really Vin or not - whoever was in this picture was in the hands of Mickey Lester's brothers and that could only be a bad thing.

Needing to put his mind at ease, though, still hoping that it wasn't Vin, Chris picked up his phone and dialed Vin's apartment. Then he dialed his cell phone. And his pager. And waited. He then dialed the airport and got connected with the airline that Vin flew in on from Charlotte. Yes, he did board the plane; yes he did get off and pick up his luggage…

Okay, first thing when the rest of the team got there was to send a couple of them to the apartment, to see if he'd made it that far, he planned. Chris rubbed his eyes in frustration and looked at his watch. Almost one in the morning.

+ + + + + + +

Jack groaned as he rolled over in bed to answer the phone. "Malone," he got out, hoping that it was some sort of bad dream or even a wrong number, so he could go back to sleep. "What?" he asked, waking up a bit more and sitting up in bed now, wincing when he caught the time on the clock. "He's on vacation in Colorado somewhere. It can't wait? Yeah. Yeah, I know." He ran a hand down his face and thought for a moment. "Yeah, let me get back to you, I'll see if I can find out where he is and have him get back to you." He hung up the phone and collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh.

Jack got out of bed and went to the kitchen. Unplugging his cell phone from its charger, he opened up the address book and looked for Martin's cell phone number. He leaned heavily on the counter as he dialed and listened to the rings. No answer. "Shit." He looked up another number and dialed it. After three rings it was answered.

"Danny? Yeah, it's Jack. Yes, I know what time it is. Listen, do you know where Fitzgerald is staying in Colorado? I don't know, Greco from the US District Attorney's office just called me. They need Martin's notes for the Sanderson trial first thing Monday morning. Yeah, I asked him if he knew what time it was. Look, see if you can get a hold of him, alright? Get back to me one way or the other."

Jack turned the phone off and headed back to bed, wondering if he'd even be able to get back to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Danny climbed out of bed with a groan, murmuring apologies to his bed partner, shushing her back to sleep. He headed first to the bathroom and then to his living room, rubbing his hair and face as he went, trying to wake up and make sense of Jack's phone call. He knew Martin had a big trial coming up. It was due to start on Wednesday, but Martin wasn't due to testify until the second Monday after that, when he'd be home from his vacation.

"Vacation. Yeah, serves him right that I've gotta bring him home as soon as he gets there. Little shit getting to go skiing while the rest of us have to go to some blood-born pathogen and OSHA regulations bullshit seminars on Monday," he groused. "Now where the hell was he staying?" Danny sat there trying to remember the name of the resort where Martin said he'd be staying. He turned on his computer and logged onto the Internet.

Finally, Danny came up with a name and began searching for the resort's website. Finding the site and the resort's telephone number, Danny grabbed for his cell phone and dialed.

"Yes, my name is Daniel Taylor, I'm with the FBI's New York office," he said to the receptionist. "I'm trying to reach a fellow agent of mine who is staying at your establishment. I was wondering if you could connect me with his room. Yes, I know what time it is. His name? Martin Fitzgerald. He should have checked in sometime last evening or afternoon." He waited a few minutes, heard the uncertainty in the receptionist's voice when she asked for Martin's name again. "But he does have reservations, right?" he asked. "Thanks."

Martin never checked into the resort. Danny thought for a bit, remembering that Martin had mentioned some relatives and friends. But no, he said they were from out of state, too, that they were going to meet up later in the week. Danny rubbed his hand through his hair again. He sent the computer on another search, this time for Denver's airport.

+ + + + + + +

"You're sure?" Jack asked, adjusting the phone on his shoulder as he got dressed.

"Yeah, Jack. Airline said he flew in, picked up his baggage. Avis had him renting a car and picking it up."

"But he never checked into the hotel," Jack finished. "Maybe he changed his plans? Stayed somewhere else?"

"I don't think so," Danny countered. "Fitz couldn't stop talking about the slopes at this one resort. Said they were the best around, that he wouldn't go anywhere else in Colorado."

Jack took a deep breath. "Alright, keep looking into things. I'll be at the office in an hour and a half or so and we'll go from there."

+ + + + + + +

"Chris? What's goin' on?" Buck asked as soon as he crossed the threshold of Team Seven's office.

"Do you know what time it is?" JD said right after.

"I know exactly what time it is, boys," Chris replied.

Josiah moved back from the door to the conference room to let Buck and JD follow Chris in, so that the last two agents could see the picture for themselves.

"Shit," Buck whispered.

"What do they want?" JD asked.

"It's the Lester brothers," Nathan replied. "They want Mickey back."

"What's the plan?" Ezra asked, bringing in a pot of coffee.

"Get Vin back," Buck replied.

"Smitty's already working on the Lesters' known haunts, seeing if he can find some possible locations where they might be holding Vin," Chris began. "Buck, I want you and JD to go to Vin's apartment, see if you find anything. I'm assuming they would have waited for him there. See if the neighbors saw anyone, got a vehicle description or something we can go on."

"Why don't we talk to Mickey?" Josiah suggested.

"Next on the list, Josiah," Chris said with a smile. "You and Ezra head out to visit him. AD Travis already had the Warden updated."

"What about me?" Nathan asked.

"We've got some leg work of our own, Nate," Chris said. "Starting with getting the word out about what's going on, so we can find him faster."

Tasks assigned, the six men went about their business, that of finding their friend.

+ + + + + + +

Martin woke with a start, disoriented to time and place until the pounding in his skull reminded him of his predicament. He let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to loosen up the muscles that had been tightening as he slept. He'd fallen asleep trying to listen to the brothers' talking, hoping to hear of their plans for him, whether they were successful at getting their brother Mickey back or not. He doubted it, though. Law enforcement didn't just go about doing trades for hostages. He'd have to wait Larabee out. He just wished he knew how much longer it was going to take.

"Hey!" he shouted toward the hallway. "I gotta take a piss!"

+ + + + + + +

Vin turned over in his bed, snuggling down into the thick quilt with a contented sigh. His pleasant dreams of his time in Charlotte, North Carolina kept him deep in slumber, without a care in the world.

+ + + + + + +

"What've we got, Danny?" Vivian asked, entering the office just ahead of Samantha.

"New missing persons case?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Danny replied.

"Martin's missing," Jack added, coming out of his office to join the others, a file folder in hand.

"What?!" the women asked in unison.

"What's happened?" Vivian asked.

"I got a call from Mike Greco of the US District Attorney's Office, he was looking for Martin," Jack answered. "Danny and I both tried contacting him, without luck. Danny called the resort in Colorado he was supposed to be staying at and they said he never checked in."

"I just got off the phone with the Colorado State Police," Danny announced, looking at Jack. Jack recognized the look in Danny's eyes. It was not going to be good news. "They found his rental car about fifteen miles north of the airport. They said it looked like it had been in an accident, and that there was blood inside."

"Hospitals?" Vivian asked.

"The trooper I talked to said that they were checking," Danny replied. "But he also said that where the car was found was not where the accident occurred."

"So maybe Martin was injured, but kept driving? Now, maybe he's wandering around on foot?" Samantha suggested.

"They're not sure. The trooper is going to keep us informed."

"We heading out there?" Vivan asked Jack.

"Pack your bags," he replied.

+ + + + + + +

Buck and JD parked on the road, just behind Vin's Jeep. JD looked at Buck. This was not good. If the Jeep was here, and Vin wasn't…

"He wouldn't take the Harley out in this weather, would he?" JD asked, despite knowing the answer to it.

"No, JD, he wouldn't," Buck replied. "Not that we won't check that garage he rents for it, anyway. Come on."

The two exited Buck's car and looked in and around the Jeep. The doors were locked, it seemed to be in reasonably good condition - all its tires were inflated and the hood was secure. No tools were scattered in or around it. They headed up into the apartment building. Getting to his apartment, they knocked, hoping against hope, despite having seen the picture at the office, that their coworker would answer the door.

JD looked at Buck, who nodded sadly, before they took out and donned latex gloves. Then Buck took the key to the apartment he'd been given by Chris and opened the door. Entering the apartment, they didn't see anything that immediately caught their eye as being out of place, or wrong. They walked through the rooms of the apartment, looking for signs of struggle, checking the windows for entry marks, and found nothing that appeared unusual.

"He was here," Buck finally said, opening the hall closet. When JD came to see what he'd seen, Buck stepped aside to show JD the suitcase on the floor, with the Charlotte Airport luggage stickers still attached.

"Time to start talking to the neighbors," JD said.

"I'll call Chris," Buck added.

+ + + + + + +

"Do you really think Mickey Lester's gonna help?"

"No, Nate, I don't," Chris replied. "But at least if we send somebody out there to talk to him, his brothers might think we're at least trying. Maybe even making arrangements."

"So Ezra and Josiah are just buying us some time, maybe giving us some extra cards to play."

"You got it," Chris replied, sitting down at his desk and reopening one of the file folders from the case involving Mickey Lester. "Travis said the warden might be willing to play along with anything we come up with, too."

"Like maybe saying he was going to release Mickey…"

"Hope it won't get that far," Chris cut in. "Smitty and Denver PD's narcotics guys are coming up here with the latest cases involving Zeke and Tony Lester. Why don't you work with them, look for some potential addresses to check?"

"Sure, Chris."

Nathan was about to leave Chris's office when the phone rang.

"Yeah, Buck," Chris spoke into the phone. "Okay."

After he hung up, he looked at Nathan, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Vin made it to his apartment, at least. His luggage is in the closet, with the Charlotte Airport stickers still attached," Chris reported. "The Jeep is parked outside. They're gonna start waking up the neighbors."

Nathan just nodded his head grimly.

+ + + + + + +

Martin groaned as the sunlight hit his face. He didn't remember falling asleep. He thought he hurt too much to fall asleep, but apparently not. He rolled over onto his other side with another groan and tried to sit up. It wasn't easy. Sometime before falling asleep, Zeke had returned and retaped his ankles, to hinder any escape plans Martin might get, so he explained.

Finally upright, Martin opened his right eye, the only one he could at the moment, as the left was still swollen shut, and wondered why he even bothered. Now, Fitz, no time to start quitting. Gotta have a little faith.

"Rise and shine, Hostage-boy!" Tony shouted as he entered the room.

What was I saying about faith?

"Time to get the morning chores done," Tony continued, approaching Martin with a knife in hand. "And one of them ain't gonna be cleaning up after you. If you're nice and behaved, I might even let you have some breakfast."

"Gee, thanks," Martin muttered.

"You better hope you can thank Larabee. The ball's in his court."

+ + + + + + +

Danny waited with the others for their flight to be announced. He watched as Jack spoke on his cell phone nearby.

"Who's Jack talking to?" Samantha asked.

"Denver office," Danny replied. "While we were driving over, he got a call from them. They're already working with the State Police and setting up a crime scene where they found the rental car."

Samantha nodded, then said, "I wish we had some clue about what this is all about. You don't think it's about his trial next week, do you?"

"I don't think so," Vivian replied, entering the conversation. "Martin told me a little about it. It wasn't anything serious enough to warrant hurting anyone over. Especially him."

"Even if they needed his notes already?"

"Probably just double checking things. You know, last minute, pre-trial jitters. Fitz said Greco's the new guy," Danny answered.

Finally, their flight was called and the four FBI agents headed toward their gate.

"Anything new?" Vivian asked as Jack put his phone away.

"Not yet. They're putting out a Teletype to the local law enforcement agencies, though, with what information we have so far."

"Which isn't much."

"No, but it's a start."

+ + + + + + +

Vin rolled over with a contented sigh. He opened his eyes and saw the bright sunshine coming through the window above his bed. He reached for the blinds' cord and gave it a tug, lowering them and blocking out the light. He pulled his pillow up and put it over his head and promptly fell back asleep.

+ + + + + + +

JD and Buck headed back to Buck's car.

"Nobody's seen him, Buck. Or, at least, not since they saw him get off the bus," JD said.

"And the only person that actually talked to him, Mrs. Transue, only said that he was glad to be home and headed for bed," Buck replied, adding, "and it doesn't look like he got that far, judging from the made bed." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Those Lester boys must've just swooped right in somehow. I don't know how, since Vin wouldn't go without a fight."

"Unless they threatened him somehow, maybe said they'd hurt one of the neighbors," JD suggested.

"Maybe, but something's still not addin' up, JD. Come on, let's head back to the office."

+ + + + + + +

"What've you got, Smitty?" Chris asked the agent as he entered the conference room.

"I've sent agents out to the last three addresses the Lesters were known to use," he began. "Denver PD's checked out Bailey's, Hunter Road and a few places used by their favorite hookers. No one's seen them for a week."

"Didn't think those boys were that smart," Nathan remarked. "Setting up a new place ahead of time just to take Vin."

"What else have we got?"

"We've got APBs out on all their known registered, and unregistered, vehicles. Denver PD and the State Police have had them out for the past two hours," Agent Smith reported. "What about you? Anything?"

"Buck and JD have been to Vin's apartment. His Jeep and Harley are both there, his luggage is there and there's no sign of any struggle. None of the neighbors saw anyone or anything unusual."

"Damn," Smith muttered. "What about that camper of his? Maybe he went there and got grabbed?"

"Like Buck said, his Jeep and bike are still here in Denver," Chris answered. "The Vinnebago's an hour drive away; not on the bus route, either."

"Girlfriend's house?" Smith was reaching, now, hoping to find out where Vin had been grabbed, hoping to find a witness.

"If he was seeing anybody, he would have been home a few days ago, and not made that side trip to Charlotte," Chris replied. "Looks like we might just have to wait for Tony Lester to call us and work from there," he added with a sigh. "I don't like playing that way."

+ + + + + + +

"Joe Hannon, Denver office," the man said, introducing himself to the New York agents as they walked through the airport terminal.

"Jack Malone," Jack replied, shaking the agent's hand. "Vivian Johnson, Danny Taylor and Samantha Spade," he added, motioning to his team, introducing them.

"Don't ask," Samantha said quickly, stopping the question she saw on Hannon's lips.

"Any news?" Vivian asked.

"State Police found the original crash site just five miles from here," Hannon began. "We'll stop there first, give you a look-see. They found some debris from another vehicle and some good tread evidence. It looks like your man was run off the road and then taken."

"How do you know? And taken where?" Samantha asked.

"We'll show you when we get there," Hannon said, stopping in front of a couple of government-registered vehicles. He tossed Danny a set of keys. "Follow me."

+ + + + + + +

Chris sat at the conference table, staring at the papers and files before him. He'd deliberately turned the Polaroid picture face down. He couldn't bear to look at it again. He hated playing this waiting game. He was not a patient man, not willing to wait for the phone call, to negotiate, wait some more, negotiate some more. There was a reason he wasn't on the hostage negotiations team. He was suited for action. For going in, doors-busting, guns-firing and getting the bad guys. No, you're not that bad, Larabee. You can wait out the bad guy when you have to. When the rest of your team is waiting with you. But that's it. Vin's with the bad guys. Vin's in trouble and you're helpless to help him. He slammed his hand down onto the table, his frustration coming out.

The other agents in the room barely spared a glance his way, their own frustration at not being able to find or help a fellow agent just as evident.

JD pushed his chair back and stood up, backing away from his laptop on the table, but not taking his eyes off it.

"JD?" Buck called, slowly rolling his chair closer. "What's the matter?"

"FBI just sent out a bulletin," he replied. "They've got an agent missing, possibly kidnapped."

"No shit?" Buck muttered. "Anybody we know?"

"Maybe…" JD replied, turning the laptop so that it faced Buck.

"Chris, you better take a look at this."

+ + + + + + +

"So when are you going to call Larabee?" Zeke asked.

"In another hour or so," Tony replied. "I'm not an unreasonable guy, you know. I know it'll take a while for the arrangements to be made at the prison. That, and I'll give 'em a while to figure out that they're not gonna find us. Buddy and Jake have both called. ATF and Denver PD have already been out looking for us. Think we're dumb enough to stay at our old places. Stupid cops."

"Tanner's gonna show up. They'll realize that you got the wrong guy," Martin said.

"Who asked you?" Tony asked angrily. "And besides, like we said last night, what's the difference between one Fed and another? We have you and they don't."

"They aren't gonna deal with some guy who's so stupid he kidnaps the wrong guy," Martin remarked, and was rewarded for it by being kicked in the side.

+ + + + + + +

Vivian watched as the FBI's Crime Scene team worked at the crash site.

"You can see here where Fitz was taken out of his vehicle and dragged into another," Danny pointed out. "The drops of blood just stop right there."

Vivian nodded in agreement with Danny's assessment.

"And it wasn't as if he was taken for medical help or anything, his luggage is missing, too," Samantha remarked. "If he had just wandered off, or had been picked up by some passerby, his stuff would still be in the rental."

"So it looks like he was run off the road, then taken into the other vehicle," Danny said.

"And whoever did it, took his luggage too, and then drove the rental away and tried to hide it," Jack finished.

The agents all nodded their heads, agreeing with what had seemed to happen to their coworker, but still not knowing why. They each walked around the site, conferring with the Denver agents and the State Police officers on the scene.

"Must be "Kidnap A Federal Agent Day" on the calendar," one trooper remarked as he came to stand next to Danny.

"Excuse me?" he asked, totally confused by his remark.

"Didn't you hear?" he replied. "An ATF agent got kidnapped yesterday, too. He's being held hostage; the assholes are trying to trade him for his brother in prison."

"Jack?" he called to his supervisor, walking quickly around the crime scene to speak with him.

+ + + + + + +

Chris picked up the Polaroid and held it next to the computer screen.

"So if the Lesters have Fitzgerald, then where's Vin?" JD asked.

"Still a good question, JD," Chris replied.

"Guess that's what Vin would look like with a haircut, huh?" Buck asked.

"Looks like he does in his Marshall Academy picture," JD said. "I've seen it in his apartment. Think they could be twins separated at birth or something?" he added excitedly.

Buck was about to join in, joking about the possibility, but seeing the look on Chris's face, refrained. "Nah," he said. "This Fitzgerald guy is a couple of years older. See the DOB?"

"Get the FBI on the line, lets hook up with them on this. If the Lesters have this Fitzgerald guy instead of Vin, we might just have to alter our game plan."

"Yeah, we know how Vin'll act when it comes down to the wire," Buck said. "We don't know how the Fibbie'll act. If it's him."

"It's him," Chris stated firmly. "I knew it wasn't Vin," he added quietly.

"But we still gotta find Vin," JD added.

+ + + + + + +

Vin stretched and yawned with huge movements, managing to shove all the blankets off the bed and onto the floor. Getting up out of bed, scratching his belly and head at the same time, he headed for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, showered and feeling halfway alive, he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of apple juice, downing it in a half-dozen gulps. Checking out the cabinets and freezer, he realized that he really didn't have anything in the way of good food to eat. Seeing just a bunch of canned soups and some frozen venison steaks, he regretted not taking the time to stop at the grocery store on the way out.

Looking at his watch, feeling refreshed, he realized that he'd accomplished what he'd needed here - gotten a good dozen or so hours of uninterrupted sleep - and could head home if he really wanted to. And he did need to get the Jeep working before Monday morning…

Mind set, he gathered his belongings and locked up the Vinnebago.

+ + + + + + +

"Chris! Chris, the FBI guys are here!" JD called from the outer office.

Chris put down the file folder in front of him and headed out of his office to meet Agent Fitzgerald's team. Nathan and Buck were showing the two men and two women to the conference room. Chris caught Buck's eye and gave him a warning to back off when he saw the pretty blonde agent. Buck nodded his head and gave him a wink in reply. When Chris entered the conference room, he wasted no time getting started.

"I'm Chris Larabee," he began. "You've already met Buck Wilmington, Nathan Jackson and JD Dunne," he added, gesturing to his men.

"Jack Malone," Jack introduced himself, extending a hand. "These are Vivian Johnson, Danny Taylor and Samantha Spade."

Samantha looked quite relieved when no one made any remarks about her name.

"I hear you may have found our man?" Jack asked.

"Not so much as found, as know who has him," Nathan replied.

"Why don't we sit down," Chris suggested, pointing to the chairs around the conference table. Once everyone was seated, he passed the evidence file containing the Polaroid picture and letter over to Jack and continued. "We received this around nine-thirty last night. Tony and Zeke Lester believed they kidnapped our agent, Vin Tanner, and are holding him hostage, in the hopes that we'll get their brother Mickey out of prison for them."

"But they took Martin by mistake?" Vivian asked.

"How stupid can they be?" Danny put in, looking at the picture, wincing as the sight of his coworker.

"This is a picture of Vin," Buck said, sliding the photo across the table to Danny.

"Holy shit," Danny whispered before passing the photos over to the others.

"Not so stupid after all?" Chris asked.

After seeing the pictures and comparing them for himself, Jack asked, "So what progress have you made?"

"We've got two agents at the prison, trying to get information from Mickey Lester about his brothers' current whereabouts. We're also working with the warden there, possibly setting up a decoy plan, if necessary," Chris replied. "Denver PD's been working with us, trying to track down the Lesters' known associates and checking their previous places of business and residences."

"So what about your guy?" Samantha asked.

Chris's expression clouded. "We don't know."

+ + + + + + +

Zeke watched and listened as Tony talked on the phone, waiting for him to finish, to see where they would go next. Finally, Tony put the phone down. He had a smile on his face.

"That was Cody," he said, coming to sit at the kitchen table with Zeke. "There's action at the prison. Looks like they're gonna spring Mickey."

"I don't know, Tony," Zeke responded. "Seems like it's been too easy."

"Hey, whatever works, bro, whatever works."

"So what now?"

"Now it's time to call Larabee."

+ + + + + + +

Vin drove to the rear of his apartment building and parked Joe's car in a free parking space. After entering the back door of the building, he headed toward the stairs and then up. Reaching his apartment, he sensed something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong; he felt very uneasy. Reaching into his jacket, he removed his gun from its shoulder holster and brought it to bear in front of him. With his left hand, he checked the doorknob - it was locked. He took his keys and unlocked the door and swung it open, staying in the hallway. Entering quickly, he scanned the apartment, sweeping left and right with his eyes and weapon. He moved this way through each room until he knew he was alone. Then he looked around again. Someone had been in there. Someone had been in his apartment and gone through his things. He suddenly felt like one of The Three Bears.

Without even thinking about it, his cell phone was in his hand and he had hit the speed dial.

+ + + + + + +

Jack looked around at the four ATF agents. He didn't know what to say to them. There was a part of him that was very happy that in some sense, they'd found Martin. That now that they knew what was going on, there was hope of getting his agent back. But what of the ATF agent, Tanner? His team is back to square one, not even knowing what his fate was.

"So tell us about these Lester boys," he finally said, looking at Chris. "What are Fitzgerald's chances with them?"

"Agent Tanner was involved in an undercover operation about a year ago involving Mickey Lester. It ultimately led to his arrest and conviction of several drug trafficking and manufacturing charges," Nathan began. "Zeke and Tony, while not in the same league as their older brother, have histories involving drugs, larcenies and assaults. They've both done time at the county level."

"As you can see in the picture, it doesn't look like they're too out of practice in the assault department," Buck added.

"What about when the time comes to negotiate. Will they?" Vivian asked.

"I honestly don't know," Chris replied.

"Wouldn't they know by now that they've got the wrong guy?" Danny put in. "I mean, I'm sure Fitz'll tell them. And hell, if they're the two-bit hoods you describe them to be, I'm sure they'd have gone through his wallet already, using his cash to pay for their pizza and beer."

"It won't matter. They've got a Federal Agent hostage. Doesn't matter which agency he works for, he's still a commodity," Jack said.

That received nods from all the people in the room.

+ + + + + + +

Martin sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Looking around the bedroom, he again tried to find some way to escape. But despite the hours he'd spent on the floor, counting ceiling tiles, reciting poetry from his college courses in his head, going over all the possible state, local and federal laws he could cite to arrest the Lester brothers with, not once during that time had a plausible escape plan come into being.

He wondered about Vin Tanner. Where was he? Was he involved in the search for him? Did he really look like him? Were they anything alike? He hoped he got the chance to find out.

+ + + + + + +

Chris answered the phone on the first ring. "Larabee." He nodded to Buck, who then picked up another phone and made a call.

"I want to talk to him," Chris demanded.

"I don't think so, Larabee. I'm making the demands here," Tony countered. "Tonight, at eight, bring Mickey to Countryside Park. We'll make us a nice little swap. And none of that hostage negotiations or SWAT crap, Larabee. I'm done talking. And if I find one little red light on my chest, I'll kill him."

"You do that and you'll be in prison right alongside Mickey."

"Ball's in your court, Larabee. Follow the rules and you get your man back."

Before Chris could say anything more, the call was ended. He looked at Buck, who was still on his phone. After a moment, Buck smiled.

"We got 'em!" he exclaimed.

+ + + + + + +

Vin cursed and threw his cell phone down onto the bed, muttering, "Sure, you would pick this moment to die," before heading to the phone in the kitchen. Dialing Chris's home phone first, he was a little upset to get the answering machine. "Fine," he whispered.

He had contemplated calling Denver PD, to report the burglary into his home, when he realized something. Nothing was missing. Nothing was damaged. Everything had just been moved, or looked at. Or searched under. No, this ain't no ordinary burglary, he thought. This is something for the Team. Or because of the Team.

Grabbing Joe's car keys, he headed back out. Time to log onto some computers at work, see who's been busy lately.

+ + + + + + +

"Nathan, call Ezra and Josiah, get them back here ASAP," Chris ordered. "Buck, I want you and JD to start up surveillance. Get as much info about the layout as possible. But be discreet - those boys know exactly who we are."

"Danny, Sam, you go with them," Jack instructed. Looking at Chris, he defended his instruction by saying, "This is a joint investigation."

"Understood," Chris replied. "And not a problem. They're unknowns. They won't be recognized; maybe they can get in a little closer to the house."

"This way," Buck called, heading to the door.

+ + + + + + +

Vin pulled up to the parking garage entrance and swiped his access card. And then swiped it again. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he double-checked the card's orientation, making sure he had it turned the right way. He tried once more, muttering, "Third time's the charm," and cursed when it still didn't activate the gate and allow him entry.

Shifting the gear to Reverse, he backed Joe's car out of the entrance and parked down the street at one of the metered spots. After locking up the car, he walked back toward the Federal Building. As he neared the garage entrance, he saw one of the security officers for the building on his way in to work.

"Hey, Corey!" he called, hoping to catch up and follow him into the building, afraid his access card wouldn't work on the door, either. "Wait up!" he added.

Corey Scott stopped and smiled as he saw Vin running toward him. "Forget your card, Agent Tanner?" he asked, holding the door open.

"Nah, it wouldn't work at the garage entrance. Didn't want to chance it not workin' here, neither," he replied. "Thanks," he added as he entered the building.

"You got a big case or something? It's the weekend," Corey asked as they walked up the stairwell.

"Don't know yet," Vin replied. "Gotta check on some stuff on the computers. Check my voicemail and e-mail."

When Corey stopped at the lobby level of the stairwell, he waved goodbye to Vin as he continued up.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan answered his phone quickly and then motioned to Chris to come over to his desk. After he finished speaking and hung up, he looked toward his leader.

"That was Smitty," he began. "Said someone just tried to use Vin's access card to get into the garage. They're running the plate now. Wants us to go down and view the video tape."

Chris looked to Jack and Vivian.

"Go on," Jack said. "We're going to check in and update our offices. Let us know when we're ready to roll."

Chris and Nathan were out the door practically before Jack finished talking.

+ + + + + + +

Martin sighed and banged his head lightly against the bedroom wall. He'd overheard Tony's conversation with the ATF guy. A swap at a park. Tony had tried to sound tough on the phone, but Martin knew it was just due to inexperience. Or lack of any better plan. He shook his head. 'And none of that hostage negotiations or SWAT crap.' Yeah, right. These boys really haven't dealt with the Feds before, have they? They're gonna go down. I just hope I don't go down with them!

His thoughts were interrupted by Tony's entry into the room. He squatted down in front of Martin.

"It'll all be over soon," he said.

"I heard," Martin replied, not as enthused as Tony had expected. "You guys will be better off just letting me go, you know. They aren't just gonna let your brother out of prison."

"They already have," Tony replied smugly. "Mickey left with one of them ATF agents already. My buddy told me so."

Martin didn't know what to think of that, so he said nothing.

+ + + + + + +

Vin exited the stairwell and headed toward Team Seven's office. Just before getting there, he saw a man and woman exit and head for the elevator. He saw their ID tags, knew them to be FBI, and now wondered just what his team had gotten into that they'd be dealing with the FBI. He had just about passed them in the hall when he heard the woman's gasp. He turned to see why.

"Oh my God," Vivian murmured, staring at him.

"Something wrong?" Vin asked, noting that the man was staring at him, too.

"Vin Tanner?" Jack asked.

"Yeeaaah," Vin drawled, not liking the fact that they knew who he was. "Who's askin'?"

"Jack Malone and Vivian Johnson, FBI, New York office," Jack replied, offering Vin his hand.

Vin shook the hand, and then Vivian's, too, when offered, despite being leery of them. "What brings you folk out this way?" he asked.

"One of our agents has been kidnapped," Vivian replied, having recovered her composure. "According to Agent Larabee, the Lester brothers are involved."

"I busted Mickey Lester last year," Vin said.

"Thus the joint investigation," Jack said.

Vin wondered about these two agents. Something about their demeanor didn't seem quite right. Something about the way they kept looking at him…

"Why don't you give us your impression of the Lester brothers, Agent Tanner," Vivian suggested, walking away from the elevator and back toward the office. "Jack, why don't you call Agent Larabee and ask him to come back up here?" She'd seen how Chris had acted when anyone mentioned his missing agent. She was determined to keep him here until Chris could see him again.

+ + + + + + +

"The car is registered to a Joseph J. Foley, of Denver. DOB six fifteen sixty. He lives in the same apartment building as Vin," Smitty said. "Driver moved around too much to get a good visual on the video, though. White male, probably early thirties from what we could see. Security found it parked at a meter down the block. We've got someone sitting on it, waiting for the driver to return."

"No other attempts using the card at any of the doors?" Chris asked, looking at the video again.

Smitty shook his head no.

"No other video images of this guy at any of the entrances? Maybe tailgating in with someone legit here?"

"Checking that now," Smitty replied.

"So, maybe someone local, has a grudge against Vin for some reason or another," Nathan suggested, thinking aloud. "Had a spat with one of the neighbors, this Foley guy. Or maybe Foley's got some other agenda, figured on using Vin's credentials to get him access."

"I want a full history on this guy. And have someone go over Buck and JD's interviews with the neighbors. See if anyone mentions this guy," Chris ordered, running a tired hand through his hair. His cell phone rang and he answered it before the second ring. "Larabee."

Nathan and Smitty watched as Chris's eyes opened wide.

"He is?! Don't let him leave!" Chris spoke into the phone. He was halfway out the door before he called back, "Vin's upstairs!"

Nathan and Smitty followed quickly.

+ + + + + + +

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Ezra muttered, picking at the jacket he was wearing.

"You're roughly the same height and weight as Mickey," Josiah stated, not for the first time. "Zeke and Tony's informants would never believe I was Mickey."

"I understand that part, Mr. Sanchez. It's having to wear these despicable clothes that I'm complaining about. The pants don't even match the jacket! And brown socks! You've got me wearing brown socks with black shoes!" He rolled his eyes.

Josiah rolled his as well. "Remember who we're doing this for, Ezra. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. Even fashion ones."

"Well, can we at least take the handcuffs off for the ride back to the office?"

+ + + + + + +

"What's goin' on, Agent Johnson?" Vin asked. "There's more to it than just the Lesters kidnapping your agent, isn't there? And I still don't even know why. FBI wasn't even involved in that case."

"They thought they had kidnapped you," Jack replied.

Vin burst out laughing then, at the absurdity of it. "Them Lesters ain't the brightest, I know, but they ain't blind, neither!"

"Nearsighted, maybe," Viv put in, stopping Vin's laughter with the seriousness of her tone.

She was about to open up the case file, with the picture of Martin Tony Lester sent to Chris, when Chris burst through the office doors.

"Vin!" he cried out, rushing to Vin's side, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Are you alright? Where the hell have you been?"

"What the hell, Chris?" Vin asked, taken aback by Chris's reaction and questions.

"Vin! You're alright!" Nathan exclaimed upon his entry to the office.

"Of course I'm alright!" Vin retorted, shaking himself loose of Chris's grasp. "Why the hell wouldn't I be? Their agent's the one that got taken."

"We couldn't find you," Chris said. "The Lesters sent the picture of you, of Agent Fitzgerald," he stammered out, practically tongue-tied, his relief at seeing Vin, healthy and whole, overwhelming him.

"Can't a guy just have a relaxing weekend on his own without having to check in? I mean, come on, Chris, if they sent a picture, then you had to know I was okay. You know what kind of week I'd had, that I'd need some down time when I got back." Vin just couldn't understand what was going on, why they all looked as if they'd seen a ghost.

"Maybe this'll help you understand," Vivian spoke up, opening the case file for Vin, putting Martin's photos on the desk.

"Oh, fuck," was Vin's whispered response.

+ + + + + + +

"You see anything, Agent Taylor?" Buck asked.

After the ATF had traced Tony Lester's call to a house in a neighborhood just south of Denver, Buck had led combined teams of ATF and FBI agents to start surveillance on it. They had agents posted in cars at the ends of the streets, in a nearby playground and walking around, as Danny and Sam were at the moment. Buck and JD were in a utility van, marked up like a plumbing contractor's.

"There's a green Buick parked out back. Looks like it's got damage to the passenger side," Danny replied, speaking softly into the microphone pinned just inside his jacket cuff.

"You boys picking up anything?" Samantha asked as she walked hand in hand with Danny past the house.

JD adjusted the audio feed again, aiming the voice amplifier towards another section of the house.

"Sounds like they're watching TV," JD replied. "I've only heard two voices. One sounds familiar, maybe Tony Lester. The other must be Zeke."

"Which room?" Buck asked.

"Front right corner."

"Can you see them?" Buck asked Danny and Sam.

"Our view isn't any better than yours," Danny replied. "Curtains or blinds are drawn in all the windows."

"You'd think they were trying to discourage visitors or something," Buck remarked.

+ + + + + + +

Chris put the phone back into its cradle.

"Buck's got everything set up at the Lesters'. There's some activity in the house, someone's home, but they haven't got any visuals - the windows are all covered. Agent Taylor said that there's a car parked in the rear with damage to the passenger side," he reported to the teams in the office.

"So we can get a warrant, go in the front door," Jack began.

"Or, wait until they come out," Chris finished. "I'd rather go that route, it's safer."

Jack and the others nodded their heads, agreeing. He looked at his watch. "Two more hours until we're supposed to meet at the park. Will we have time?"

"Countryside park is only about a five minute drive from the house which is about twenty minutes from here," Nathan replied. "Plenty of time."

"Alright, I'll tell Buck the plan," Chris said. "If they come out before we get there, his teams will take them. Otherwise, wait until we get there."

As the ATF and FBI agents began to gather their things and head towards the exit, Chris noticed that Vin was still sitting at the table. He walked over to him and put his hand on Vin's shoulder.

"Vin? What's up?"

"Why do I feel guilty?" Vin replied, looking up.

Chris smiled at the remark, but shook his head. "Don't know, pard', but you shouldn't," he said. "Well, except for turning your damn cell phone and pager off and disappearing all weekend!" he added, slapping the back of Vin's head.

Vin rose from the table and replied, "Hey, if you had the kind of weeks I had, and no sleep for thirty-six hours straight, and didn't expect to have to work the weekend, you'd have bugged out, too."

"I thought you told me you spent your time in Charlotte in bed?" Chris asked coyly as they walked to the door.

"Didn't say nothin' about sleepin' in it," Vin answered with a wink, only to get slapped on the back of his head again.

+ + + + + + +

Martin heard the footsteps come down the hall toward the bedroom. He tensed. This is it, he thought. Showtime.

The door opened and Tony and Zeke entered. Zeke went to Martin's ankles and sawed through the duct tape with his knife, while Tony placed a piece of it across his mouth.

"Sorry, no time for last words," Tony told him. "Don't want you talking, though. I have a feeling you'd try to spoil our fun."

Martin did his best to give Tony a defiant look. He was hauled to his feet and led through the house toward the back door.

+ + + + + + +

"They're heading for the back door," JD announced into his radio.

"All teams get ready," Chris responded to JD's words.

"Zeke's coming out," Nathan reported. "He's opening the car trunk. They'll probably put Fitzgerald in there."

"Let them," Jack spoke up, speaking into his radio. "Once he's in the trunk, he'll be out of the line of fire. We'll get him out after the other two are secure." He got an agreeing nod from Chris.

Chris looked through his binoculars again, checking on the FBI and ATF agents' placements around the house.

Less than a minute later, they watched as Tony, getting the all clear from Zeke, led Martin out the back door and toward the car. Many an agent winced as Martin was roughly shoved into the trunk.

As soon as the trunk lid clicked shut, Chris gave the order to "Go!" and Tony and Zeke found themselves surrounded by dozens of Federal Agents with guns pointed at them, shouting for them to get down onto the ground.

Zeke complied quickly, dropping down into a face down spread eagle position, happily assisted and then handcuffed by Nathan. Tony was about to resist and started to raise his gun, but found himself tackled to the ground and handcuffed by Danny. Both men were quickly searched and led from the scene to a waiting transport van. Nathan picked up the car keys he'd gotten off Zeke. Vin was waiting with his hand out.

"Mind if I do the honors?" he asked.

Nathan handed the keys to Vin with an understanding smile and watched as Vin used them to open up the trunk.

Martin had heard the shouts and commotion after the lid of the trunk had shut and had already sagged in relief. The cavalry had come. He knew it would only be minutes before he was let out of the trunk, and officially freed from his captivity, but it seemed to take forever.

When the trunk lid finally opened, and his eyes adjusted to the light, he could hardly believe what he saw. God, Tony must have hit me harder than I thought.

"Agent Fitzgerald, I'm Agent Vin Tanner. Nice to meet you."

Vin smiled at the confused look on Martin's face and then backed away as the rest of Martin's team crowded in to take care of their agent. Vivian got there first to ease the tape off of his mouth and then she and Danny helped him climb out of the trunk.

"Easy, Martin," Vivian soothed. "You're safe now."

"Just can't stay out of trouble, can ya, Fitz?" Danny joked as he worked his pocketknife over the tape around Martin's hands.

"Good to see you," Samantha spoke up.

"You all right?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine," Martin got out, relief evident in his voice, just before his knees buckled.

Danny caught him easily and eased him down to sit on the ground.

"Get that ambulance crew over here!" Jack shouted.

+ + + + + + +

Team Seven had gathered around near the back door to the house and watched as the FBI team reunited with its lost sheep.

"I can't believe how much you two look alike!" JD exclaimed, looking at Vin and then at Martin and then at Vin again. "You could be twins!"

"Any long lost relatives you've always wondered about, Vin?" Josiah asked.

"I once saw a show about these triplets separated at birth," JD went on. "They wound up meeting through common friends. They had the same haircuts, smoked the same cigarettes, dated girls with the same names…"

"It is pretty amazing that they both look so much alike, and both wound up in federal law enforcement," Nathan remarked.

"See, that's the stuff I'm talking about!" JD exclaimed.

"We ain't no long lost relatives, JD," Vin responded, shaking his head. "It's just one of those flukes of nature kind of things."

"Speaking of flukes of nature," Ezra whined, "May I please go home and change clothes now, Mr. Larabee? Before someone mistakes me for one?"

"By all means, Ezra, get goin'!" Vin replied for Chris. "Don't think we can put up with your whinin' too much more. And I'll agree with ya, ya don't look natural at all. Kind of a freak of nature, if you know what I mean? I mean, really, Ez, brown socks and black shoes?!"

Ezra glared at Vin, but saw his exit and took it, saying, "At least I will not have to put up with the wrath of Larabee for being incommunicado all weekend, while we were sacrificing ourselves on your behalf," as he walked to one of the cars.

"So, Vin," Buck began, putting an arm around Vin's shoulder. "Speaking of sacrificing yourself this weekend, you gonna give us all the details?"

"I already told Chris about needing to get away to get some sleep out at the Vinnebago, Buck," Vin replied.

"I'm talking about Charlotte…"

Chris watched as Vin smiled and whispered something into Buck's ear, making him blush. He shook his head; had to be good if it made Buck blush. He made his way over to the group of FBI agents, who were now stepping back to let the ambulance crew do their job.

"He gonna be okay?" he asked Jack.

"Yeah, he's a tough kid. Looks like he's just bruised up, mostly. Hungry, tired."

"Glad he's alright."

"Glad Agent Tanner's safe, too," Vivian added, looking over at the ATF agents.

"Yeah, me, too," Chris replied, glancing over at Vin as well.

As the medics began to bring the stretcher carrying Martin towards the ambulance, Jack turned to Chris and offered his hand. "Thanks for your help," he said. "Our teams worked well together."

"That we did," Chris replied, shaking the hand. "Too bad it was under these circumstances."

Jack nodded his head and left to follow his team to the hospital. Chris returned to his own team.

"Well, boys, everyone's safe and sound. Good job."

"Sounds like an invitation to Inez's," Buck responded, winking.

"After the paperwork!"

+ + + + + + +

Vin walked down the hospital corridor, working out in his head what to say to Martin Fitzgerald. Do I even need to say anything? he wondered. He was still feeling some guilt - however misguided - for it was he that was supposed to have been kidnapped and held for ransom by the Lester brothers, not Fitzgerald. But that really wasn't why he was here. JD… Damn that kid!

Sure enough, after the paperwork was done, the Team had headed over to Inez's Saloon for celebratory drinks. The FBI agents, minus Fitzgerald, had joined them there once they were assured of Martin's health and their own paperwork was done. And of course, he was the center of attention; the topic of all conversations. Or, his and Martin's identical looks were. JD kept hounding him about his family history and asked the FBI agents about Martin's, so sure that they were long lost twins, or at least brothers!

After a while, he couldn't take any more of the attention and decided to bow out, saying that he needed to get Joe's car back to him and get up early to get his own fixed. But morbid curiosity made him take the exit ramp toward the hospital. He had to see Martin Fitzgerald for himself. In the flesh. He knew they weren't related. His mother had kept very detailed and accurate family records. His Dad still had possession of the family Bible with all the names of relatives and such going back a hundred years or so. Not once did he recall seeing the name Fitzgerald anywhere in it.

Agent Johnson had said that she had spoken to Fitzgerald in the ambulance; explained to him that he and I could pass for twins. She said that he seemed to accept that. But I saw that look on his face when I opened the trunk. Sure, it seemed funny at the time, but damn that's got to have been scary! Okay, so the guilt is coming back.

Before he knew it, Vin was outside Martin's door. He showed his ATF ID to the FBI agent guarding the door.

"Whoever's there, you can come in," Martin called out, sensing a visitor.

Vin stepped into the doorway and raised his hand, waving it tentatively. "Hey."

"Come on in," Martin said, gesturing to the chair next to the bed.

Vin nodded and sat down. The two men sat there, silently staring at each other, sizing one another up and looking for the similarities and differences in their appearances.

"How you holdin' up?" Vin finally asked, unable to ignore the cuts and bruises he saw on his double.

"Believe it or not, things just got a whole lot better."

Vin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "How's that?" he asked.

"Up until now, I thought I'd been dealing with a bunch of crazy, blind people, myself included, when you opened that trunk," Martin began. "Who'd have thought?"

Vin smiled and nodded. "Flukes of nature?"

"Nah, had to be on purpose," Martin replied. "After all, what's better than one good thing?" he asked mischievously.

"Two of a good thing!" Vin replied with a smile.

The two men laughed and talked together for a while longer, getting double takes from the nurses that came to check on Martin. They agreed to get together after Martin was released from the hospital, with Vin promising to show Martin some of the better, but lesser known skiing slopes around Denver.