Fic: It's Just A Sweet Fantasy 3/7 The Magnificen Seven/Without A Trace
Title: It's Just A Sweet Fantasy Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven or Without A Trace. Characters: Chris, Vin/Martin, Danny, Jack, Vivian, Buck, JD, Ezra, Mary. Prompts: rounds_of_kink Day Off From Work, Hating Undercover Assignment. Words: 23,261 Sequel to: Hide And Seek Fandom: The Magnificent Seven/Without A Trace Pairing: Martin/Danny, Chris/Martin. Rating: Adult Warnings: Angst, Language, Sexual Content, Violence, Ensemble. Summary: At a conference in New York City, Chris goes missing. His disappearance dredges up old memories and an old case thought long solved. Author's Note: Fall - 2002. Thank you to huntersglenn for the inspiration. ______________________________________ Part 3: Showdown In Little Tokyo.
Tuesday - 4:15 p.m.
As the lift car came to a stop, Jack closed his eyes. Twenty-three floors was a long way up with motion sickness. Opening his eyes, he cast a glance over to Sam. That was the last time he let her drive in city traffic. A half second later the doors opened.
The first sight to greet him were dozens of people milling about in the hall in both directions. None of them looked like they belonged there, half had some type of recording device. Jack groaned internally as he stepped off the car.
More than a few heads turned, but no one outright recognized them.
Jack was a grateful for small favors. Heading towards the room he knew was the crime scene, he attracted more attention. More people looked to Sam than him. It took them only a second after that to deduce that they weren't more reporters or guests.
"The FBI. It's them!" The shout came from behind them, but it went through the throng like wild fire. Flashes started going off as what sounded like a hundred voices began speaking as one.
Putting up a hand, Jack blocked camera lights from his vision. Another step and he had to push his way through. "Sargent!" He didn't know whom he was calling, but there had to be one.
"Sir?" It was a woman who answered.
"Clear this damn hall now!" He was almost drowned out by the angry calls and protests. Jack stomped on a foot that blocked his way and shoved more people out of the way. How in the hell could so many people fit in the hall? A better question was why they hadn't been already cleared.
He felt a hand grab his from behind. If he hadn't known those fingers intimately, that would have been the last straw. As it was, Jack tugged Sam with him as he slipped between two large cameras. Then suddenly, as if an explosion had gone off, they were clear and silence reigned supreme.
It was a physical act, his sigh of relief. Much to his pleasure, he saw a parade of officers pushing the reporters and their camera people towards the elevator. That reminded him of his anger. Standing tall, he walked up to the highest ranking officer he could find.
Her hair a little frazzled, the Sargent had her hands on her hips. When she met Jack's gaze, she frowned. "Sorry about that, sir. Ever since they showed up, it's been battle to keep them from getting too close."
"Why are they even on this floor?" Jack was proud of the fact that he kept his tone civil.
"Ask Detective Russo. He's the one who gave them the go ahead." She twisted to point at a portly looking man. Despite her smile, her voice held nothing but contempt. "We'll have them cleared in a minute, sir."
"Thank you, Sargent." He nodded at her, then headed towards the Detective.
As he strolled up to the man, Jack had to fight the urge to just deck him and get it over with. He had dealt with this man's type enough times to make him sick. There was only one way to deal with him. Stopping a foot away, Jack cleared his throat. "What have you got?"
"Too much time on my hands." Russo looked up at his own joke. Seeing the pissed expression on Jack's face quickly wiped it away. "Absolutely nothing. These people know nothing useful."
"I'll be the judge of that." Jack held up a hand. "Let me see your notes."
Russo opened his mouth to speak, but one look at Jack silenced him. With a sneer, he reached in to his jacket and held up a pad. "They're all yours."
"Thank you." For the first time, Jack smiled. "Now get the hell off this floor. I'll be speaking with your Lieutenant."
"Are you serious?" When Jack didn't so much as blink, Russo snorted. He shook his head in disgust and walked down the hall towards the elevator.
A quick check of the man's note pad revealed nothing but half ass doodles and a few scribbled words. Obviously, the moment he had learned the FBI was taking over, he had checked out mentally. Jack stopped a passing officer and handed the note pad to him. "See that the Lieutenant gets this."
Having caught all this, Sam shook her head. "When did we step back in to the eighties?"
"Probably the moment the doors opened." Jack glanced up and down the hall for another plain clothes, but found no one. This made his head start to hurt. "You realize this means we're going to have to start this entire investigation over."
"Why did I even get out of bed this morning?" At his snort, she looked over at him and smirked. "Right."
After he let the moment pass, Jack turned to look for the Sargent. He found her already heading their way and smiled. "Just the woman I was looking for."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 4:28 p.m.
Pushing his way in to the apartment, Danny glanced about for any sign of his lover. Things were almost as he had last seen them. A book had been moved off the coffee table to the couch. The aquarium by the far wall was lit up and the fish were all alive. That always surprised him.
Danny had learned after his own cat that a FBI agent couldn't have pets.
A purring at his feet made him roll his eyes. Okay, so may be it was just him. Bending down, he grabbed the Yellow Tabby. It began to purr as he brought it to his chest and scratched it under the chin. "Where's Fitzy?"
There was no response from the apartment. Sighing, Danny wandered in to the kitchen. He put the cat down next to its dish to let it eat. Martin wasn't collapsed in there. So, he headed for the bedroom and the bathroom.
The bathroom was clear but for one thing. Martin's hair gel was on the sink, which was the only thing out of place. That meant his lover had gone out in a hurry.
A quick check of the bedroom revealed that a few of the drawers were partially open. Given Martin's anal retention over tidiness in his apartment, this didn't bode well. Wherever Martin had gone, it was in a hurry and he hadn't done it in a good mood.
As he pulled his cell out, Danny had a sick sense of dread. This was not going to be received well.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 4:30 p.m.
Closing the phone, Jack sighed. What else intended to go wrong today? He wished that something, just once, would go right. Speaking of other things that had gone to shit, he faced the young maintenance man. Sucking in a quick breath, he calmed himself. "Why exactly didn't you call the police?"
"It wasn't a thing." The man shrugged. Looking away, he tried to appear non-chalant. "We do what we're told."
"So that's your excuse. Someone told you to clean it up." Jack held his calm by only the tips of his finger nails. "A bloody palm print is nothing to you?" He took a step towards the kid. "You destroyed evidence. Do you realize I can have you arrested for that?"
From across the room, Sam glanced over at the words. She could tell Jack was about to go off. The thought of his losing control alarmed her. This made Sam clear her throat to get his attention. When he turned to look at her, she shook her head.
Jack sighed. It didn't matter, he had the kid's attention. "You ever do anything this stupid again, and I will not only have you brought up on charges, I'll make sure they prosecute to the full extent of the law. Get out of my sight." By the time the maintenance man shot down the corridor, Jack's head was killing him.
This was getting out of hand fast. If something didn't go right, he was just going to quit. He didn't need this hassle. Stalking off to the side of the hotel room, he unbuttoned the front of his jacket.
There had to be something here that gave them evidence. All they knew now was one thing they hadn't known two hours ago. Add to the trashed hotel room and the fact Chris Larabee had gone missing, a bloody hand print on the elevator controls. Security footage confirmed all this.
The ringing of his cell caused Jack to jump. Reaching in to his pocket, he pulled it out and flipped it open. "Malone."
"The big wigs are on their way up now." Vivian sounded only slightly more pleased than Jack felt. "I took the liberty of checking in with our tech guys. There has been nothing on any of Agent Larabee's accounts or his credit cards in the past two days."
Sighing, Jack reached up and rubbed his forehead. "Any word from Martin? Danny's called, he's not at his apartment."
"No. He shut his cell phone off before we could triangulate the source. We are talking with the phone companies now to trace the last location." Vivian was tired already, it made her voice raspy.
"Damn." This wasn't a good sign. Things were adding up and the conclusion was getting worse. "If he reports in, call me immediately."
"Will do. Though, I'm starting to get a little worried. From the information in his file, Larabee isn't the most stable of people when it comes to those who betrayed him." There was the sound of paper rustling. "He actually shot a fellow officer for his involvement over the death of his wife and son."
"Yeah, I read that. He was cleared of the shooting, but still was forced to take early retirement." Scratching at his head to relieve a tension headache, Jack closed his eyes. Memories of the file came back to his mind's eye. "Didn't he meet Martin shortly after that?"
"Less than a month before the incident actually." Vivian made a sound of surprise. "I'm not surprised the man tried so hard to get him back. It would be helpful if we had Vin Tanner's file too."
"I'll talk to Victor Fitzgerald when I get back to the office. Just don't lean too heavily in to this. Martin and Chris' past may just be coincidence." He hung up the phone and glanced around the hotel room.
Most of Larabee's possessions were now bagged up and being placed in another room with his family. That which qualified as evidence had already gone to the labs. They had interviewed the staff, other guests, and the ex. All that remained was talking with his team.
That mean locating them to talk to them. Most aggravating, talking with Ezra. Jack's headache made a resurgence. Forget it. They could have this conversation down town.
Flipping open his phone, he hit the redial. Thankfully, it had been Vivian he had last called. Putting it to his ear, he braced himself for her sigh. He wasn't disappointed.
"Yes, Jack?" Her patience was beginning to wear thin. It wasn't obvious to anyone but to those who knew her, though.
"When you get the time, call Larabee's team. Tell them to meet us in the office in one hour for interviews. If someone with a southern accent tries to stall, warn him you're authorized to use lethal force." Hearing her snort, he was reminded that he wasn't the only one who had run ins with that particular pest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 5:30 p.m.
The first thing Jack did when he entered the office was head directly for the conference area. There were dozens of new people littering his office, but at the moment they didn't matter. He didn't even bother to take off his coat before picking up a marker.
"Excuse me, but we have been waiting here for almost an hour." It was a woman from the conference table.
Marking a point above the picture, Jack drew a black line the length of the board. "Then you won't mind waiting a little longer." At the two thirds point, he slanted a line towards the top of the board. He quickly wrote in: 'eight, twenty-eight a.m., received unknown package'. A line just behind it, he wrote: 'eight, thirty-five a.m., storms out of hotel, leaves bloody print on elevator panel'.
Jack took a step to the left. He could hear the people behind him getting flustered, but didn't really care. Halfway up the line, he wrote in: 'eleven, thirty-two a.m., received message from unknown source'. That done, he bisected the main timeline and wrote 'Monday' to the left and 'Tuesday' to the right.
Jack took a step back to admire his work. Capping the marker, he put it back in the tray. "All right, people, here is what we know so far. Chris Larabee trashed his hotel room at around eight, thirty this morning. He left under his own will and has not been seen since. In his haste, he left behind his boarding pass and room key. Anything else we can add?"
"Actually, there is." Walking up to the board, Vivian picked up another marker. Uncapping it, she wrote out a time and fragment. "One of our techs checked their system. Agent Larabee made a call from his cell phone this morning before storming out. It was to an unlisted number."
"Did they try calling it to find out who answered?" His question almost sounded like a joke, but Jack's expression was completely serious.
Vivian still smiled. "Yes, actually." Snorting, she capped the marker and put it back. "The man who answered quickly hung up. When we tried a second time, the line was disconnected. While we don't know who it is, we have enough of his voice to make a comparison."
"Sounds like Mr. Larabee has some interesting friends." Arms crossed, Jack studied the timeline and the photo. "Is that all we've been able to ascertain?"
"At this time, I'm afraid so." Stopping just at Vivian's shoulder, Sam put her hands on her hips. "It's pathetic."
Jack didn't say it, but he completely agreed. "We'll know more when the labs come back on everything retrieved from the scene." He didn't need to say it, they all knew that. The fact he could say it, though, comforted him a little. "Where are we on getting in touch with Martin?"
"Stone walled." Danny's jaw clenched as he scowled at the board. "The cell company is refusing to volunteer the information without a warrant. As for getting one of those, it's a game of hot potato between the States Attorney's Office, the DOJ, and the Manhattan D.A.. None of them want to commit without proof of foul play."
"So, I guess that's it." None of his team made a sound to deny it. Since he could no longer delay it, Jack sighed. He turned to face the gathered crowd. "All right, who's first?"
At first, there was nothing. Then people across the office rose almost as if of one mind. Their voices drowned out any semblance of being coherent.
A loud whistle ripped through the air, causing many people to cry out.
Almost as a collective, the people turned to face the source of the shrill sound. What they found, to their surprise, was a motley crew of five men in varied fashion.
Dressed in a regal-cut suit with a green tie, the man at the center touched his hat brim. He inclined his head with a smile that flashed a gold tooth. "Hello there. Forgive us for our unusual entrance. We hated to crash this lively debate, but I have the feeling we are to be the guests of honor."
Jack did not so much blink at the man. "I was wondering when you would darken my doorstep."
More than a few heads shifted so they could see Jack now.
"My apologies, but I appear to be lacking a formal invitation." Holding up his hands, he gestured to the men at his side. "You will have to excuse these men and their uncouth behavior. Lessons in gentility seems to have been left out of their education."
"Did you just call us stupid?" The tallest of the men glanced over at his friend.
"Yes, he did." Jack's lips twitched. "That's something he's yet to learn to control. Isn't that right, Ezra?"
The man's only response was to smile bigger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 5:35 p.m.
Closing his office door, Jack could practically feel the nervous energy in the room. He could see the teams beginning to set up beyond the glass. It pissed him off that they thought it okay to take over his section. This was his investigation!
Sitting on the edge of Jack's desk, Vivian watched him with concern. "All right, Jack, what's this about?"
Jack turned to check over the two assembled teams. They had pretty much separated in two groups without having to be told. Around his desk were Danny, Viv, and Sam. The men from Team Seven were orbiting his guest chairs. It didn't surprise him that Ezra was the only one who chose to sit down.
Taking a quick breath, he moved over to stand behind his desk. "You all know the case we are working on." There were only a couple nods from the group. "What you don't know is why." Jack looked at Ezra. "Well, most of you don't."
Ezra opened his mouth to deny it, but sighed when he received a slap to the shoulder. "I may have placed a call to Assistant Director Fitzgerald. That he assigned you the case is merely a coincidence."
"Nothing is ever a coincidence, especially with you pulling the strings." Jack's glare wasn't the only one. He just kept it under better control. "How did you know Martin was on my team?"
Ezra blinked, then stared openly back at Jack. "Pardon? I don't believe I heard you correctly."
"Don't give me that bullshit! You called Victor knowing damn full and well that since his son was on my team, he would assign the case to us." Movement to his left distracted Jack from his glaring contest. What he saw was Danny actively scowling at the southerner.
"Who's he talkin about, Ezra?" Bumping said man with his elbow, JD leaned in a little closer to him.
Waving him off, Ezra sat forward in the chair. "I truly have no recollection on what you are speaking." He batted away a hand off his shoulder. "You say that Mr. Fitzgerald is on your team? Then it is a coincidence indeed."
Jack snorted. Glancing up to Vivian, they shared a look of mutual exasperation. "You're a skilled liar, Ezra, but we've experience with you."
"If you say Martin is on your team, then produce him." Ezra looked from one of Jack's staff to another. He stopped only but a moment on each before going back to their leader. "Where is Mr. Fitzgerald?"
Now it was Jack's turn to look at the other men. "We don't know, but we assume that has something to do with you."
"You are aware of what is said about assuming, Jack." Sitting back in his chair, Ezra brought a hand up to his jacket. He slipped two fingers inside to pull out a handkerchief. "If what you say is true, then not only has Mr. Larabee gone missing, but so has his former paramour."
"Paramour?" JD frowned. He looked over to Buck for clarification, but only found him turning a lighter shade of pale. "What's he talking about?"
Swallowing, Buck reached up to smooth down his mustache. He cast a quick glance over to JD, then back to Jack. "Now, hold on a minute. I suggest you two consider your next words real careful." He nodded once to himself. "Who is this Martin Fitzgerald?"
It was almost a full minute of staring before Jack relented. Scooting back, he opened up the bottom drawer of his desk. His fingers skid over the file tags before he found the right one. After pulling it out, he closed the drawer.
He set the file on top of his desk. Flipping through it, he quickly found what he was looking for. Now open flat, he spun it around so they could see it and pushed it to the edge of his desk. "This is Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald. For the past seven months he has been a member of my team, the Missing Persons Unit."
Buck froze the moment his eyes landed on the picture. He felt Josiah and Nathan do the same.
Seeing the image, JD blanched. "That's not possible."
"It is." Closing his eyes, Ezra sighed. "That is the man we knew as Vin Tanner."