Title:  Tale of the Tape

Author (s):  Kaly

Category:  Adult Het; ATF

Pairing:  Vin/OFC, Ezra

Archive:  Yes

Author's note (optional):  WIP.  This story is the third in a continuing series.  I cannot take credit for this plot bunny – said plot device has been used – and effectively – in many a story.  Most recently a Little Britches story by Raven entitled "Promises to Keep" (a well-written story that I recommend anyone who enjoys the LB universe to read).  Feedback is welcomed and enjoyed 

Disclaimer:  The men of Magnificent Seven are not mine (alas); never were and never will be.  They belong to CBS, Mirisch, MGM, Trilogy…and anyone else I neglected to mention.  No money is being made with this story and no copyright infringement is intended.  The character of Alicia "Lacey" Morris is my creation.  Thanks to Mog for the use of her ATF sandbox in which this story plays.

Tale of the Tape

Vin cursed to himself as he made his way down the hallway toward Team Seven's offices.  From the moment he'd gotten into his Jeep that morning his day had gone from bad – to downright ugly.  First the car had stalled so many times on the way to the office that he was beginning to think Larabee was right and he should just take it to the nearest junk heap and be done with it.

Then he and Ezra had to deal with getting their testimony worked out with Lt. Geoff Easton – the army lawyer assigned to the McNulty case.  Major Damon McNulty, a decorated and well-respected officer based at Fort Carson – one who had a sideline trafficking illegal arms out of the country with the help of several naval lieutenants based in various ports along the western seaboard.  Teams Two, Five, and Seven had worked in tandem with both the US Army and Navy in bringing down this ring.

Ezra and Vin had a front-row seat in the proceedings, both having gone undercover in the case.  Vin using his former military contacts to place him inside; and Ezra brushing up his foreign accents in his pose as a possible client for the group.  So both had to spend an exorbitant amount of time in preparation for the upcoming court case – which was due to start that week.

After a morning of running down each step in their investigation, Vin had gone for a well-deserved lunch.  He'd gone alone, needing a little down time, however brief, before tackling the paperwork he knew awaited him back at Team Seven's offices.  And to top off his day, on the way back from lunch one of the tires on his Jeep had blown, ensuring that this day would be one he wouldn't soon forget.

He pushed open the doors to the Bullpen, as their main outer office was called, and stopped, surprised to find the room empty.  Looking up he noticed that the door to Chris' office was open and that it too was empty.

"Vin…" He turned to find Josiah approaching from the break room.  An odd expression flickered across the profiler's face, disappearing before Tanner could say just what it was he had seen there.  A strong hand clasped his shoulder.  "Everybody's in the conference room."

"What the hell is going on, Josiah?"  Something about the older man's gentle tone set Vin on edge.

"It's best that…" Josiah paused.  'Best that what?  That he see for himself?  That Chris tell him?'  No, there was no 'best' where this news was concerned.  But, if he were going to be told, better that all his friends – his family – were there to support him.  "You should go ahead on in…"

"Josiah, just tell me what's going…"

"Vin."  He turned from Sanchez to find his best friend framed in the doorway of the conference room, a very serious expression on his face.  The blond looked worried – and that made the hair stand on the back of Vin's neck.  "You need to come in here…now."

Larabee watched as Josiah led Vin into the room.  How in the hell was he going to tell his best friend? There was no easy way to prepare someone for news like this.  The sharpshooter glanced about the room; Chris could see his apprehension growing as his colleagues varied between gazes of sympathy and averting their eyes.  Josiah led him to the chair just to Larabee's right.

"All right Chris…what's going on?"

"Have a seat, Vin."  Anxious blue eyes stared up at the blond.  Larabee paced the small space behind his chair.  Several sighs passed his lips before he squared his shoulders and met Vin's gaze.  "There's just no easy way to say this…" Another sigh.  "A package was delivered here to the office about an hour ago…labeled for you and Ezra…"

"A package?" Vin turned to look at the southerner; green eyes gazed sympathetically back at him.  'Just what the hell was going on?'

"When did you last see Lacey, Vin?"

"Damn it, Chris…you know I was with her this morning.  Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I think it's best if we just show him, Chris," Josiah replied softly, his hand still lying comfortingly on the younger man's shoulder.  "JD," the profiler nodded to the team's youngest member, who turned on the monitor in the room and pushed a tape into the VCR.  "The package we received was a videotape, Vin."

Blue eyes focused on the video screen as it flashed to life.  The dimly lit figure of a woman sleeping appeared on the tape, along with the current date and a time of six forty-five in the morning.  It took Vin only a few seconds to recognize the slight figure curled up on the bed.

"That…" His gaze flitted from the screen to Chris and back.  "This was fifteen minutes after I left her this morning…Chris?"  The blond said nothing, only nodded toward the screen, his expression grave.

The camera angle widened, pulling back from the sleeping figure.  Josiah felt the body underneath his hand tense at the changing image on the screen, knowing it was similar to the tightness he'd felt upon witnessing the video.  Only infinitely more intense, for the woman on the screen was the one Vin Tanner loved.

The camera pulled back and a second figure was spotted lying next to Lacey on the bed.  The figure was clad all in black, down to the gloves on the hands and the ski mask that shielded the face.  One gloved hand reached out and stroked across the brunette's hair.  Lacey shifted at the touch; long lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slowly opened her eyes.

Brown eyes grew wide, her body jerking in surprise at the unknown intruder.  The gloved hand covered her mouth and they could see a pistol being pressed into her abdomen in a silent urge for her to keep quiet.  Instinctively Lacey drew back, thoughts of escape showing clearly on her face.  Only to find another similarly clad figure waiting behind her.

Her hands were pulled roughly behind her and bound.  She was pulled from the bed, still clad in a violet nightgown – the one she'd purchased when she and Vin had started dating.  A scarf was thrust into her mouth and secured; another tied tightly over her eyes and she was pushed out into the hall as the screen faded to black.

"You've been sitting on this for an hour?" Vin turned to Chris, his eyes blazing.  Fists clenched tightly on top of the conference room table, only Josiah's strong hand on his shoulder kept him from rising.

"There's more," Chris said quietly.  Vin turned back to the screen to see Lacey being shoved into the back of a dark colored van.  "License, JD?"

"Whoever was filming knew enough to keep the plates out of the shot."

The picture faded out once again; then faded back in quickly.  The time stamp on it showed that several hours had passed between the initial abduction and this current image.  Lacey was sitting on a chair in front of the camera.  Her eyes blinked furiously and she rubbed her wrists gingerly; clearly the blindfold and bonds had recently been removed.

"Say it," an unidentified voice urged.

"No…" Lacey replied softly, shaking her head.

"Say it!" the voice said again, louder and more insistent this time.

"No!  I won't…" Her defiance was met with a harsh slap of a gloved hand, the blow nearly knocking her from the chair.  Vin pushed against Josiah's hand, trying to rise to his feet, but his friend's grip prevented him from doing so.

"Tell them what you were instructed to, Ms. Morris."

A hand rose shakily to cup the reddened flesh of her cheek.  Large brown eyes looked into the camera and she sighed.  A look of defeat swept across her features as she took a deep breath.

"They…they want Vin and Ezra to change their testimony on the McNulty case.  To be certain that Damon McNulty goes free.  They say that if – if Damon goes free, then I will be freed…" Her voice faded away, her silence finishing the statement she couldn't utter.  The camera zoomed in closer.

"Jesus…" Vin hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Vin…" Lacey said again, her eyes looking straight into the lens once more.  "Do what's right," she blurted.  "Do what you have to do…"

A leather-clad fist connected with her cheekbone and she disappeared briefly from the screen; the sound of the chair toppling over seemed overly loud in Vin's ears.  The last view on the screen was of Lacey sprawled on the floor of the room, unconscious.

Vin leapt from his chair and moved to the door, only to have it blocked by one of his friends.  Buck Wilmington stepped between Vin and the door, his face clearly showing his sympathy – his empathy – for the younger man.  He knew how torn up Vin was, but he also knew that rushing out without thought of what he was doing would not accomplish anything.  They had to have a plan of action.

"Out of my way, Bucklin…"

"Can't do that, Junior," the Irishman said, shaking his head slowly.  "Y' need to sit down and let us all figure out what we can do to help Lacey."

"Y'all have been sitting here over an hour now and I don't see any of you coming up with anything," Vin replied angrily.  He turned back around and stomped back to his chair, though.

"Vin," Chris started, rubbing a hand across his forehead.  "Travis already knows…so does the FBI."  'We haven't just been waiting for you, pard.  We're gonna do everything we can to find her and get her back.'

"Have-have they come up with anything?"

"Not much," the blond admitted.  "There were no prints on either the tape or the package it was delivered in."

"They're analyzing the tape now – what we have here is a copy – to see if there's anything they can find out there."  JD piped up.  "And as soon as Chris gives me the go-ahead, I'm going to do a little analyzing myself…"

"A team has been sent to Ms. Morris' abode, in search of clues."

"So we just wait?" Vin asked, clearly displeased by that option.

"What we do," Chris said softly, "is figure out who has the most to gain with McNulty's release…aside from the man himself."

~*~

Lacey groaned, one hand moving to cradle her pounding head.  Her eyes slowly opened and she turned her head slightly, stopping as she fought off a bout of nausea.

"Who would have thought a punch could hold such…punch?" she muttered with a mirthless laugh.  Even the smallest movement caused her stomach to turn.  She took deep breaths in an effort to keep from being sick.  Her vision cleared and she carefully glanced about the room.  It was understated, to be sure, but more warm and welcoming than the sterile room that she would forever refer to as the "camera room".

She was lying across a large sofa, not nearly as comfortable as her bed back home, but a definite improvement over the hard floor she had hit as she sank into blackness earlier.  She knew she'd pressed her luck by her actions, but even as frightened as she was, Lacey knew what was right.  And it was more important that Vin do his duty – even if to the extent of it costing her life.

Keys jangled in the lock and she struggled to sit up as the door opened.  One hand flew to her mouth, her head falling against the back cushion as she fought the bile that rose up in her throat.  Pale and trembling, she blinked, focusing her gaze upon one of her captors.

"Brought you some food," he said abruptly, placing the tray down on the table in front of her.

"Oh please…" she groaned, waving her hand in dismissal.  Just the thought of food made her sick.  The smell of the food drifted up toward her and her hand clamped over her mouth once again.  Her eyes found those of her jailor, silently pleading for assistance.

"Facilities are right there," he replied, pointing to a door on his left.  He watched her closely as she stumbled across the room and into the small lavatory.  He could hear the sound of her retching through the door.  "Y' wouldn't be so bad off if you'd only stuck to what you were told.  Then he wouldn't have had to discipline you."

'Discipline me?' Lacey wanted to shoot back at him.  'They're all acting like I'm some unruly child that disobeyed them…instead of their hostage.'  She turned on the water and splashed some of the cooling liquid upon her face.  Stepping back into the larger room, she shook her head slowly.  "Wouldn't matter…I'd still be sick."

The man stared at her for a moment in confusion; then he nodded knowingly.  "Oh, I gotcha…"

She stole several glances at the man.  If only she could somehow manage to get them to remove the masks they wore…as it was now, she'd be of little help in identifying them.  Aside from eye color and voice tone, she had nothing to clearly pick any of them from a lineup.  If such an opportunity ever arose.

Her captors were intelligent – that she could tell.  They'd gone to great lengths to keep their identities a secret – with the gloves and masks.  And had yet to utter a single name in her presence.  Aside from Damon McNulty's, that is.

She supposed she should be grateful that they hadn't tied her back up after the tape had been made.  Not that there was much danger of her attempting an escape.  The room she was currently held in had only one window.  And even if she could fight back the nausea long enough to break through that window, she didn't even know where they were.  Didn't know how far it was to civilization; what state they were in – if they were even still in the States.

"Eat up," the man said again.  "And get some rest…you've got another date with the video camera in the morning."  With that he turned and left, making sure to lock the door securely behind him.

Lacey collapsed back on the sofa, the food ignored.  Her gaze rose to the window above her.  It was still light outside, but she knew that wouldn't last long.  The majority of the day had passed, with no sign of rescue.  She knew that hope dwindled with each hour that crept by.

'If only there was some way to tell them where I am,' she thought.  'Some way to give them a clue in the next videotape…without arousing anyone's suspicions.'  She sighed, closing her eyes as she tried to think of a plan.

~*~

"Anything, JD?"

The young man rubbed his tired eyes, sighing at his superior's question.  He had been going over the videotape for hours now – scanning each frame separately from every way he could imagine.  There was something there – he knew it – but it still eluded him.

"There's something about it that keeps nagging at me, Chris…something I should be seeing and I'm not."

"Maybe you need to take a step back for a few minutes," the blond suggested.  "Give your eyes a break."

"Not sure Vin would want that," JD muttered.  He glanced around the office – only he and Chris remained.  "Where is Vin?"

"He and Ezra are still with Travis and the team from the Bureau.  They've been pouring over the list of people who have the most to gain if McNulty goes free…or the most to lose if he doesn't."

"Sounds like a long list…"

"You have no idea," Chris sighed.  He looked at the young man next to him.  JD was tired – hell, they all were – and tired eyes tended to miss things.  He'd sent Buck, Josiah, and Nathan home a few hours earlier.  They were going to need fresh eyes if they were to find Lacey.  Not that Travis or the FBI wanted them involved in the investigation whatsoever…the Bureau had made that quite clear.  But then Team Seven was never one to go by the rulebooks.

"Look, JD…you've been at this for the better part of eight hours now.  Go home, get some rest…step away for a bit and maybe what you're looking for will jump right out at you…"

"Vin won't understand…"

"Yes he will, JD.  Vin's worried – we all are.  But he's well aware that if the men who've taken her harm her, they lose their bargaining chip."  The older man sighed again, suddenly feeling all of his forty-seven years.  "As long as they think this action they've taken is working, Lacey will be all right."

"And when they think it's no longer working?"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

~*~

"Cooped up in an ungodly room for hour upon hour with the illustrious Bureau…not my favorite way to spend an evening," Ezra exhaled sharply as he and Vin headed toward the banks of elevators.  "All that time spent…and we narrowed the list down to a group still large enough that they could scrimmage against one another on a football field."

Vin said nothing; he merely followed along behind the other agent blindly.  All he could see – all he could think about – was Lacey.  What she was going through…what those men had done to her.  The image of the blow that knocked her to the floor kept playing over and over in his mind.

"We're going to locate your young lady, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said gently, placing a hand on his colleague's shoulder.  "Rest assured, we will find her.  Between our very capable associates and the fine members of the Bureau…" the latter part was forced from the former FBI agent; his past still haunted him.  "We will find her, Vin."

~*~

"Chris sent you home, kid?"

"That obvious?" JD replied to Buck's question as he strode through the apartment.  He headed for the kitchen and a cold beer.  He wasn't a big drinker but he felt the need for one tonight.

"Know both of you too well," the Irishman said with a slight smile.  "Knew that the only way you'd leave that damned tape for more than a bathroom break would be if Chris ordered you to."  He sighed, running a hand across the stubble on his face.  "And if I know Larabee…he picked up right where you left off…"

"He doesn't trust me not to miss something…?"

"Hell no, JD…it ain't that at all."  Buck struggled with an explanation that would placate the younger man.  "Chris knows how good you are at what you do.  He also knows that no man can sit and watch the same tape over for more than eight hours without it wearing him down.  He just wanted to give you a break from it is all."

"Then why is he sitting there now?"

"Because he knows that, like Vin, there's no way in hell he's gonna get any sleep tonight."  'Because he knows better than any of us what Vin is going through…and he wants to be damned sure that Vin doesn't suffer what he is still fighting with every day.'  "It's just that I know Chris…and he figures since he'll be up all night anyway, he might as well see if he can do something constructive during that time."

"What about Vin?"

"Chris is gonna be there for him…when Vin needs him, Chris will be there."

~*~

Chris sat in his den, the CD-Rom drive whirring softly as the digital copy of the video footage played over and over on his oversized monitor.  The room was dark; the blond wanted nothing to detract from the image on the screen.  He didn't want to miss anything due to the glare of a light bulb.

"Plan on sittin' there all night, cowboy?"  He hit the pause button, turning to find Vin standing in the doorway.  Blue eyes stared at him in the darkness, eyes that seemed lost, tormented.  A look Chris Larabee knew all too well.

"Thought you might show up here tonight…"

"Couldn't sleep…thought maybe I'd look in on Peso…"

A blond eyebrow rose.  "Planning on a moonlight ride?"

"Got no moonlight to ride by."  Vin slumped in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame.  "My fault, Chris…"

"Like hell!"

"If I hadn't started dating Lacey…"

Chris leapt to his feet and moved in front of his best friend.  He grabbed hold of the younger man's arm.  "Do you love her?"

"Chris…"

"Do you love her?"

"Y' know I do," the brunet admitted.

"Then don't you dare give up on her!  Don't you ever give up on her!"  Green eyes bored into blue, blazing with passion.  "And once we find her – and we will, Vin…you hold on tight and never let go."

~*~

The sound of a key jangling in the lock roused Lacey from a fitful sleep.  Bleary eyes opened as two of her captors stepped inside.  Faces and hands still hidden in a shroud of black; she almost giggled as she wondered if they removed them at all.

"You didn't eat," one of them said accusingly.  She turned to the man in question.  That's the voice she would remember – if she ever managed to get out of this alive.  Cold, harsh, authoritative; he was the one in charge she had no doubt.

"Couldn't keep it down," she replied, dismissing the breakfast tray they had brought along with them as she did so.  They didn't need to torture her, she suddenly realized.  Depending on the length of the trial, she could just as easily die of starvation and dehydration before this was over.

"Oh, you're one of those," he said condescendingly.  His eyes raked over the greenish pallor to her skin, bringing the large purplish bruise in sharp focus.  He wouldn't worry about her illness now – her appearance could actually work in their favor.  "Get up…time for your second performance."

"What more can I possibly say that wasn't already said in the last?"  Lacey fell back on the sofa and turned from the two men.  She knew she was playing with fire by defying them, but the mere thought of becoming vertical made her queasy.  She had foolishly hoped that the sickness would abate, but deep down she knew better.

"Get her up!" the leader barked to his companion.

Lacey felt strong hands grasp her arm and haul her to her feet.  Eyes wide, her face went pale and she threw a hand to her mouth as she pulled from the man's grip.  She rushed into the small bathroom, praying she would make it in time.

"Christ!" the man cursed as he watched her.  He turned to the other man.  "Bring her when she's done," he growled, stepping from the room and slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," Lacey called out to the man left behind.  She almost felt sorry for him, somehow sensing that there might be some good in him, despite his actions.  That he was wrestling with the possible repercussions of what they were doing.

"Be best, Ms. Morris," he said gently, "if you do what he says without protest.  He's got nothing against striking a woman, as you already know."

"That's the truth," she muttered, splashing cold water on her face.

"Ain't all he's capable of, neither…if you get him angry enough," he continued, a very clear warning in his voice.

Lacey stepped from the bathroom, her brown eyes finding the man's hazel ones.  She took a deep breath and nodded slowly.  "Understood."

"Come on…he doesn't like to wait."  A hand wrapped around her upper arm, leading her from the room and down a hall.  "Shouldn't take you too long.  Just do as he says – no doing what you did yesterday – and there shouldn't be any problem."  He stopped at the doorway to the "camera room".  "While you're in here, I'll see if I can't find something to help calm your stomach," he said gently.  "Sure we must have something around here…"

Lacey blinked in surprise.  "Thank you," she said softly.  He pushed open the door and she stepped inside.  She spotted the high stool in the center of the room and groaned.  She'd had a chair the previous day and still couldn't manage to sit in it long.  Then again, she imagined a fist to the face might have had more to do with that than her dizziness.  How was she going to manage to sit on a stool for however long this latest tape took to film?  With a sigh, she hesitantly climbed up onto the stool.

"Give us your name, today's date and the time."

"I would think everyone already knows most of that," she blurted without thinking.

"For the benefit of those who might not be so well-informed," came the angry reply.  Two of the men stood just behind the camera, out of view.

"Alicia Morris."  Deep breath.  "Wednesday, August sixth."  Another deep breath was accompanied by a slight wince as her stomach made its unhappiness known.  She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"Well?"  Lacey faltered, unwittingly allowing her fear to mark her expression for the first time, for all to see.  The two men shared a glance, a quick smile lighting each face as they knew how well that vulnerability would play.  "Well?" the leader said again, his voice growing harsher.

"I…I don't know what time it is," she admitted softly.

"Forget that.  Just remind them of our request."

~*~

"Didja get any sleep at all?"  JD looked up from his breakfast at Buck's question.

"Not much," he admitted, swirling his spoon absentmindedly through his cereal.  "I keep seeing that tape in my head – over and over…"

"No wonder.  Y' must have watched it a hundred times or more yesterday."

"No, Buck…you don't understand."  The young man dropped his spoon and ran both hands through his thick, dark hair.  "Something about the camera keeps bugging me.  You noticed how it seemed to be a bit shaky at times?"

"Now that you mention it…" Buck nodded.  He headed into the kitchen for a cup of strong black coffee.  "Y' need a ride in today?"

"Yeah," JD said automatically, before his mind went back to his earlier thoughts.  "There is something about that damned shaking…"

"You'll figure it out, kid."  Buck walked back into the room, putting a comforting hand on JD's shoulder.  "I've got faith in you."  He took a long drink of the coffee; then stood and moved toward the large aquarium the roommates had recently acquired.

"What's that?" the younger man asked as he heard a soft whirring sound.

"Oh this?  This is so cool, JD…" Buck said with a grin.  He waved the other man over to the large tank.  "The gal at the pet shop was showing it to me – Patsy, I think her name was…"

"Buck I don't have time for one of your conquest stories…"

"No, no…look.  Well she was a real looker, but…" the Irishman got a sly grin on his face briefly; then shook himself out of his thoughts.  "This wire goes across the top of the tank, see.  It's a little boat…and you put the fish food inside it…" The older man spoke about the new addition like a child with a new toy at Christmas.  "And it floats across the wire – across the surface of the water – 'til it gets to the middle.  And then…whoosh!  It flips over, spilling the food into the water.  Then rights itself and travels the rest of the distance to the other side.  Has a timer too…"

"That's it!" JD exclaimed, his eyes suddenly bright.  A smile sprang to his face and he hugged his roommate.  "That's it!  Bless you, Buck, and your little gadgets."  He grabbed up his jacket and headed for the door.  "Let's go!"

"Wait…that's what?  That's what, JD?" Buck called out as he followed JD out the door.

~*~

Lacey was led from the small interior room once again.  The man handled her roughly, urging her to increase her pace.  He pushed her toward the third man she was familiar with – the one who had shown her some kindness.

"Take her back to her room."

"I found something that might help you," he said quietly, holding out a bottle of pills for her.  Lacey took the container from him hesitantly, unsure if she should trust that what the label read was actually what the plastic contained.

"If I could have some fresh air…" she said, knowing the chance of anyone agreeing was minimal.  "It would help…"

"I don't know…" he said, giving his boss a nervous glance.  "It's not as if she could go anywhere…" he tentatively said to the leader.

"I don't care…do whatever you want," the man said dismissively.  "Just as long as you shut her up…" He turned a hard glare on both of them.  "But don't take your eyes off of her."

Lacey sighed, thankful for this slight victory.  She was led up a narrow stairway and out into the open air.  Pausing a moment, she closed her eyes and reveled in the warmth of the sun on her face.  Spying a railing nearby, she took a few hesitant steps toward it, certain that her guard would stop her.  But he merely shadowed her steps and stood at her side as she looked over the rail.

She gulped, surprised at how high they were.  They hadn't appeared to be that far up when she looked out at the horizon in the distance.  She tentatively took a deep breath, hoping her stomach wouldn't rebel at the effort.  When that seemed to help she took another, closing her eyes as she did so.  She wobbled slightly on her unsteady legs.  With a small cry of surprise, Lacey suddenly fell forward and slipped over the railing.

~*~

"I can't believe I didn't pick it up right away…"

"But you've figured it out now, JD," Nathan said gently.  "We've got something to look for now, thanks to you.  That's what matters."

"If it wasn't for Buck and his stupid gadgets…"

"Hey," Buck spurted.  "You were blessing me and my gadgets earlier."

"I don't suppose either of you ever considered how this conversation might sound to an uninformed observer," Josiah chuckled softly.

"So…" Chris Larabee interrupted, "they have Lacey on a boat.  The question is – what kind of boat?  Is it a yacht? Private?  Or something grander in scale?"

"Can't see them as being able to hide her on a military vessel," Buck piped up.  "Especially considering how tight the security has gotten because of this case."

"And…what is the location of said vessel?  Did they somehow manage to transport Ms. Morris across state lines?  If so, how?  A private airplane, perhaps?"

"So my discovery didn't help much at all," JD replied, crestfallen.

"Of course it did, JD.  We now know that Lacey is on a boat – or, at the very least, has been."  Nathan ran a hand through the coarse beard he was attempting to grow.  "So we need to find out which of McNulty's partner's has access to a boat – if any own one or have rented one.  And if any have an aircraft as well."

"Seems to me they took her to the coast," Buck mused.  "Don't know why I think that, but…"

"Vin?" Chris said gently, his eyes focusing on the quiet sharpshooter.  "You haven't said anything…is there anyone you and Ezra came across who fits this description?"

"Only about a dozen."  Tanner had gotten no sleep the night before – and he looked it.  Unkempt and unshaven, with a haunted look in his eyes that made his friends ache for him.

"We're going to find her, Vin.  I swear."

~*~

"You foolish little bitch!"

Lacey stood on the deck of the yacht, shivering, her rescuer equally drenched, while the leader of her captors railed at her.  She knew that no matter what she said, he would never believe that her going over the railing was anything other than an attempt at escape.  She stayed silent, save for her chattering teeth, expecting any moment to feel the harshness of his slap.

"Was an accident, sir!" her rescuer piped up, once again coming to her aid.  "Girl hasn't had any food since 'fore we took her…bound to make her lightheaded.  I-I saw her pitch forward, heard her cry out in surprise."

"You're a bigger fool than she," the other man barked.  He threw another scathing glance in Lacey's direction.  "Bring her below before someone sees her!" he commanded, turning on his heel and rushing inside.

The other man's eyes conveyed a silent apology as he took her arm and led her back down the narrow stairs.  She saw what little freedom they had given her being taken away for certain because of the incident.  She expected that they might resort to tying her up after this, though she hoped not.

Was it truly an accident, she wondered?  Or had her subconscious clung to the possibility of somehow getting free from her captors?  She sighed, supposing it didn't matter now which was the truth – the man glaring at her as she stepped back into her paneled prison would only believe what he wanted.

She felt his gaze on her as she crossed the threshold and moved into the middle of the room.  He took several steps toward her, a strange gleam in his eyes.  A hand reached out, long fingers looping under the thin straps of the nightgown she still wore – the one she had been wearing when they had abducted her.

"So eager to shed this garment, are you?" he said with a leer.  "All you had to do is ask…I'd be glad to assist…"

"Sir."

"What?" He turned his attention from Lacey to the man who stood just to the side, his wet clothes dripping on the carpet.

"Shouldn't we find her something dry to wear?  I mean…you can't parade her on the video like that…"

"And why not?"

"They…" The man struggled to come up with some explanation for his outburst – some way to protect the young woman who stood shivering and wet.  None of this was her fault – she was only here because of the man she loved.  He couldn't help but feel sorry for her – and cursed himself again for not being man enough to help her escape.  'But I can do my best to keep her from harm.'

"If you parade her on film soaking wet they might figure out we're on the water," he said finally, giving Lacey a surreptitious wink from over his boss' shoulder.

"All right," the man growled, turning to the door.  "Find her something…and fast – we've got another tape to make."

~*~

"Chris."  Team Seven's leader turned to the doorway, spying Assistant Director Travis standing there.  The older man acknowledged every member of his best ATF team, saving a sympathetic glance at Vin for last.  "There was another tape delivered about ten minutes ago."

"Where is it?" Vin said, leaping to his feet.

"Hold on…I suggest we all adjourn to my conference room.  It's larger – with better A/V equipment.  The FBI team is waiting there for us now."  The team headed quickly for the door; Travis held back, wanting to speak to Larabee alone.  "Have you boys come up with anything?"

"We've narrowed down the list of people who have easy access to either a boat or plane," the blond responded.  "Naturally, ones who have both are put at the top of the list…"

"How's he holding up?"

"He's hiding it well, sir.  But the sooner we find Lacey, the better…for all concerned."

"I agree," the older man looked Larabee in the eye.  "I want this resolved before Vin has to testify.  I don't want him thinking of doing anything foolish."

"Vin wouldn't jeopardize the case, sir.  He's well aware of his duty…"

"I wasn't talking about his testimony, Chris.  You forget I know you and your men far too well."  The blond wasn't fooled by the smile on the A.D.'s face, he knew Travis was quite serious.  "Wouldn't put it past the fool to get himself killed trying to rescue her."

"Wouldn't we all go to such lengths for someone we loved, sir?"

"Come on," Travis said gruffly, ignoring the younger man's question.  "Let's get this over with."

~*~

Vin sat in tight-lipped silence as the group watched the latest video sent from Lacey's captors.  If there was any doubt that they were on the water, they were stripped away when the sharpshooter saw the greenish tint of the young woman's complexion.  Vin was well aware that Lacey suffered severe bouts of seasickness, and without her medication he was sure she was miserable.

Not that the situation was any fun for her no matter where she was being held.  His anger rose to the surface again, as did that of his friends – judging by the various rumblings around the room – at the sight of a large purplish welt that marred one cheek.  Where Lacey had been struck the previous day.

"Well?" they heard the man they assumed led this abduction bark at her when she paused in her response to his request.  Lacey had been asked to give information on the date and time – presumably to 'reassure' her loved ones that she was still alive.  Though Vin knew far too well how easily one could be persuaded to perpetuate a lie.

Her family.  Damn.  He hadn't even thought to call her family, though he presumed her boss had done so.  Truth was, he hadn't thought much of anything since viewing that first tape.  Except the revenge he would exact on the men that took her.

"I…I don't know what time it is," Lacey said haltingly.  Vin heard a heavily expelled breath to his right.  Josiah – the man he suspected would be the most help when this was all over.  The one who would have just the right words to help them all heal.  And the one who would be at his side to impart a little 'Old Testament' style justice to those sinners.

As with the first tape, there was a small break after the first segment and then there was a second taped session.  When Lacey appeared onscreen, Vin leaned forward, staring intently.  The brunette was clad in a man's sweatshirt and pants – both overly large for her, so they hung on her frame.  And her hair – damp ringlets framed her face, proving even more the realization that they were on some sort of floating vessel.

Josiah stole a glance at Tanner, wondering what the younger man made of the change in clothing and the hair.  Did he believe that Lacey's captors had given her warmer clothes as a gesture of kindness?  Or, like himself, did Vin worry that there was a darker, more sinister, reasoning behind it?

The profiler's attention shifted between Vin and the image on the videotape.  He barely took notice of the words Lacey spoke – merely repetitions of each earlier speech.  He was more concerned with the sound of her voice than the words she spoke, as he was with the tone her abductor used.  Lacey's voice showed no sign that she had been the victim of any sexual abuse, but he didn't know her well enough to be certain that she wasn't adept at hiding her emotions.  Her captor, however, concerned him greatly.  This was a man who enjoyed being in control; one who enjoyed manipulation and power.  And one that, if provoked, would not hesitate to use any means necessary to stay in control.

"I would say," Travis spoke as the video ended, "that JD's presumption is pretty much on the mark.  It would seem that they are onboard some type of boat."

"Yep," Vin said quietly.  "No doubt about that."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Lacey gets seasick something awful," he replied to the FBI agent who'd asked the question.  "Without her meds, she can't hold anything down if she's on a boat."

"That explains the nauseated expression on Ms. Morris' face," Ezra piped up.

"Now, gentlemen," Travis broke in again.  "What we need to figure out is who took her…and where they are."

"We've narrowed the list down to a dozen potential…"

"Half dozen," Chris spoke up, interrupting the lead FBI agent.  "We've chopped your list in half."

"If I recall correctly, Mr. Larabee," Agent Richard Bartlett said crisply, "you and your men were instructed that this case no longer involved you.  You being allowed to view this video was merely a courtesy on our part."

"Gentlemen…" Orrin Travis stood, holding his hands up to try and ward off the battle he knew was about to erupt.  "Before this gets into a major pissing match, need I remind you all that the important thing is to bring Ms. Morris home – and the sooner the better."

"Yes sir."

"Understood."

"Okay then," the Assistant Director continued at the nods and agreements that floated around the room.  "Chris, if you would give Rick and his team the list you've come up with…" He chose to ignore the glare the blond shot in his direction.  He knew Team Seven wasn't at all happy about handing this over to someone else.  He also suspected that they wouldn't just stand aside and let the FBI deal with the case.

Rumbles of dissent were muttered under their breath as the seven men rose to their feet almost as one.  They knew they were being dismissed – and they didn't like it.  Larabee handed the information over to Bartlett, knowing that he and his men would be going over that very same list once they'd returned to their own offices.

The trip back upstairs to the bullpen was a quiet one, each man thinking about the video they'd just watched.  Feeling for their friend and wondering how they, if put in Vin's position, would be handling it.

"All right, boys," Chris said as they headed to the conference room.  "Let's see how fast we can scratch these names from the list and find just one."

"I believe I shall be able to assist greatly in that regard, Mr. Larabee," Ezra commented, his green eyes fierce.  "I know the identity of Alicia Morris' abductor."

~*~

"You what?"

"And you haven't said anything?"

"You've been holding out on us…"

Ezra threw his hands up in an attempt to silence his teammates.  Wanting to reassure them that he would not leave Lacey in jeopardy; that he had only just now realized to whom that cold, calculating voice belonged.  Why he hadn't recognized it before, he wasn't certain.  That was a voice he had thought he wouldn’t ever be able to forget – even if he had tried.

"Let 'im speak," Vin spoke up, his blue eyes turned onto his fellow agent.  The undercover man saw no sign of distrust or disappointment in their cerulean depth and knew that Vin realized what he was unable to say aloud.  "Which names can we scratch off the list?"

"All of them."

"All…?" Larabee said with surprise.

"Yes, Mr. Larabee," Ezra continued.  "While I am unfamiliar with the other gentlemen that are guarding the lovely Ms. Morris, I can – without any hesitation – assure you that the ringleader is not among the names on that list."

"All right, Ezra," Chris sighed.  "Who is he?"

"Kent Barnett."

"Bar…the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the Atlanta Division?"

"And my former superior…yes," the southerner replied, nodding.  He waited a moment for his friends to process the information he had just imparted to them.

"Wasn't Barnett the reason you left the FBI?"

"Precisely, Mr. Wilmington.  Barnett moved up – and I moved out."

"Okay, Ezra…" Nathan exhaled sharply as he plopped down into one of the conference room chairs.  His fellow agents quickly followed suit, all gazing intently at their comrade.  "This must be one hell of a story, so…out with it."

Ezra sighed, pacing in front of his teammates.  "As you are all, no doubt, well aware…I left Atlanta – and the Bureau – with a less than stellar reputation."

"Tell us something we don't know, Ez."

"I shall attempt to do that very thing, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra replied haughtily, "if I can continue without further interruption."  The ladies' man, for his part, looked suitably chagrined by the southerner's comment.

"Go ahead, Ezra," Larabee commanded.  The blond's eyes sought out his best friend.  Vin seemed deeply preoccupied and Chris could only imagine where the younger man's thoughts and fears were taking him.  As if sensing his friend's eyes upon him, the sharpshooter looked up into Larabee's face and nodded slowly.

'I'm okay, Cowboy.'  Chris heard the silent statement, though he suspected there was little truth in it.

"During my tenure under Barnett's tutelage I began to notice that all was not as it seemed.  My esteemed leader appeared to be living a life well above his means – enjoying all of the finer things in life…"

"But Barnett was – and is – a well-respected agent…" Nathan broke in.

"It is quite amazing how easily a reputation can be bought or sold, Mr. Jackson," Ezra commented dryly.  "Mine most assuredly was soiled – for the right price, apparently."

"So…" Josiah piped in, his eyes bright with understanding.  "You found evidence that Barnett was involved in some dirty dealings; he caught you and somehow managed to drag you through the mud while covering his own tracks."

"A rather blunt way of putting it, Josiah, but yes."

"What was Barnett into?"

"Aside from the weapons smuggling upon which our current predicament has occurred?  I could recite several other infractions…however it would be his word against mine.  And, as you all know, my word does not hold much weight with our friends in the Bureau."

The southerner crossed the room, placing a gentle hand upon Vin's shoulder.  "Mr. Tanner…I feel somewhat responsible for Lacey's being placed in danger.  Barnett, no doubt, is aware of my role in this and is seeking revenge upon me by taking it out on…"

"Wouldn’t matter, Ez…" Tanner said softly.  "Whether you's involved or not, Lacey'd still been taken.  It's both our testimonies they want stopped – not just yours."

"Okay," Chris spoke up, glancing around at his men.  "We now have a name and a face.  What we need, gentlemen, is a location.  Now."  His men all rose from their seats, each knowing the part they had to play in finding out the information they needed.

"Vin?"  Blue eyes stared glassily at Team Seven's leader.  "Go home…get some sleep."  He knew the sharpshooter would have little success in doing so, but he hoped the man wouldn't flat out refuse.

It was on the tip of Vin's tongue to do just that; but he knew there were a few phone calls he had to make.  He had been avoiding Lacey's family like the plague.  He knew they were aware of the situation – the FBI had contacted them immediately.  But Lacey's parents and brother wanted Vin's reassurance that everything would turn out okay.  They had that much faith in their daughter's lover.  And he just couldn't be that blindly optimistic.

"Okay, Chris," he said, nodding slowly.  "Think I'll head out to the ranch and take Peso out for a ride, if that's all right with you."

"You know you're always welcome out there, Vin…" Chris spoke to his friend's retreating back, the younger man not waiting for his reply.  "Ezra," the blond called out to his agent.  The southerner stepped into Larabee's office.

"There's something you're not telling us about Barnett," he accused, his eyes narrow.  "Spill it."

Ezra sighed; he suspected that at least one of his colleagues would notice the tension he fought to hide from Vin.  And he knew there was no way he could keep this from the stormy green eyes that were now staring intently into his.

"Mr. Barnett has…peculiar tastes – when it comes to women.  He…he's been known to take advantage of the situation when it suits his purpose or his needs."  Standish's voice was full of quietly controlled rage as vivid memories flashed across his mind.  "It was not unheard of for several ladies of the evening to meet with an unfortunate incident while in custody or while being questioned…though how he covered up such depravity is a mystery I could never solve."

"Lacey…"

"Ms. Morris shows no outward sign of suffering such a fate, Mr. Larabee.  From what I can ascertain from the videos we've received, anyway."

"But…" Chris prodded, unsure he really wanted to know the answer.

"Is she in danger?  Most assuredly, I'm afraid I must admit."

On to PART 2