Rating: R for violence, language
Disclaimers: Not mine, etc.
Author's Notes: Thank you to Karen, my wonderful beta and friend. Any problems left in the story are my fault. And to Linda for letting me use Alex.
Warnings: This deals with a hijacking.
Feedback: I would love it! And if y'all would be so kind as to answer the following questions, I would be grateful!
Thank you again, Lady Angel
He was this close to killing her.
This close.
Chris Larabee took a keep breath and carefully blocked out her voice. The woman in the seat next to him didn't notice. She was still carrying on her brand of flirting — talking non-stop. And on the completely filled flight he couldn't get another seat. But he wouldn't subject any of his six friends to this brand of torture. They had been very good on this trip.
So he simply sat back and completely ignored the brunette.
Or ... at least he tried.
Jim Ellison smiled. Even on the crowded plane, he was at ease. All in his world was good. Blair was beside him, chatting on blithely about the rather interesting police conference. He stretched his legs, smiling at the fact that the aisle and his Indian-style sitting partner allowed him to do so. He just sat back and let Sandburg's voice soothe him into a relaxed slump.
'Probably the best flight I'm going to have in a while, might as well enjoy it.'
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Rosell. It seems we've been hijacked."
'Shit.'
'Shit.' Nathan Jackson sighed. 'Just our luck. And it was such a nice, quiet trip too.' The black man glanced at the young man next to him. Vin was starting to breathe heavily. The medication had started to wear off an hour into the hijacking.
The long-haired young man gripped the armrests, his eyes wide and nearly blank.
"Vin, listen to me. You gotta calm down." Nathan's eyes widened when one of the hijackers headed their way. "Relax, Vin. You gott—"
"What's wrong with him?"
Nathan jumped, then saw the hijacker he had dubbed "Arnold" standing above them. "He's claustrophobic. He needs his medication."
Arnold grunted, then cocked his gun. "Then let's put him out of his misery, hmmm?"
People gasped.
"No." The command was low. The voice not raised, but it carried well.
Chris stood, ripping out of the brunette's death grip. He didn't blink at the guns pointed at him. "I can take care of him."
"Why?" The red haired man, who had been giving all the directions, walked up to him. He studied the blonde man with many layers of fascination. "Who is he to you?"
Chris met the hijacker's eyes. "My partner."
Red eyebrows went up, then the eyes went down to the gold band on the blond man's left hand. "Life partners," Red murmured. "Shame, you're a stud."
Despite the situation, Chris couldn't help the half smirk at the brunette woman's disappointed sigh. "So I've been told."
Red chuckled.
Chris moved when Red motioned with his gun. He glanced at Nathan. "Thank you, sir ... for helping him."
Nathan nodded in understanding: they didn't know each other. "Sure, no problem." He stood, moving to the seat several rows back, that his team leader had just vacated. He nodded at the woman, then promptly craned his neck to watch the drama several rows ahead take a new turn.
Chris glanced once more at Arnold and Red, then turned his attention to Vin. "Hey, cowboy." His voice was whisper-soft as he cupped the younger man's cheek. "Look at me, Vin."
The brilliant blue eyes continued to stare unseeingly. Vin looked horrible. The claustrophobia usually wasn't this bad, merely making the younger man jumpy. But the stress of the situation and being on the crowded plane made the phobia's symptoms more pronounced.
Larabee glared away the Arnold Swarchenegger-lookalike, who had stepped towards them. "Vincent Michael Tanner, look at me." Chris' tone demanded obedience and got it.
Blue eyes blinked. "Ch-chris?"
He smiled, soft and gentle. "Hey, cowboy."
The endearment struck through the haze of panic and Vin opened his mouth.
Chris did the only thing he could: he hugged Vin, pressing the younger man's face into his neck. He glared at the hijacker, then leaned down, brushing his lips against Vin's temple.
Buck Wilmington chuckled beneath his breath as he watched his oldest friend and Vin. The mustached man leaned over and shut JD's mouth.
John "JD" Dunne couldn't believe that his team leader would let them think ... He shut his mouth. Then opened it again. "Uhm, Buck?"
Buck just grinned. "You know Chris, anything to protect us."
"What do we do?" JD asked after nodding.
Buck shrugged. "We wait for Chris' signal."
JD nodded again, slumping back into his seat.
"Well, so much for a nice trip."
Josiah chuckled. "It's fate, Ez."
"Yes, well," Ezra sighed. "Fate, as JD would say, sucks."
"Amen, brother. Amen."
Blair sighed. "Damn, so close."
Jim couldn't help but smirk. "How much did you lose this time?" It was the first thing the younger man had said since the hijackers announced their presence. The tableau across the aisle from them seemed to have broken the terrified silence. All around them, people relaxed a little.
"Twenty bucks, but the pot was about two hundred."
Jim shook his head as he whistled. "You should know better. Stick to the ponies, kid."
"Yeah, well, call me an optimist."
"Optimist."
Blair shook his head at Jim's very bad joke. But Jim was right. He really should stick to betting on the horse races because after six years, you'd think he'd learn that they always got into ... situations ... no matter where they were. So betting against the rest of Major Crimes that they wouldn't get into trouble was kind of like burning money for the heck of it.
Jim chuckled then glanced over at the two men and felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. He zoomed in on the glint and confirmed what he saw was a badge and gun being secreted into the seat pocket. He wretched his eyes up and suddenly met the ice cold green ones of the blond man.
Chris froze, hoping the message in his eyes would keep the other man quiet. To his surprise and dread, the other man smiled. But instead of calling out to the hijackers to expose him, the other man slowly reached into his jacket. A gold shield winked at him.
Chris sighed in relief.
Jim held up two fingers, indicating himself and Blair.
Chris nodded, holding up seven, gratified to see the blue eyes widened as well as the grin.
Nine against ten were much better odds than two against ten.
Jim pointed at the young man in Larabee's arms.
Larabee nodded.
Jim nodded.
"Jim?" Blair questioned, watching the silent conversation between his partner and the blonde man across the aisle.
The detective leaned over. "Chief, where's your badge?"
"Back pocket."
Jim held out his hand. "Gun, too."
Blair glanced around, then slipped it and his gun to Jim, who quickly slipped both their badges and guns into the seat pocket in front of him.
Jim glanced around before leaning towards his partner. "The lovers are ATF agents."
Blair quickly glanced over to see the blond man half grin at him. Blair waved.
Jim rolled his eyes. "He has a team of seven on board."
Blair whistled soundlessly. "What's the plan?"
"Working on it. But first, do me a favor and get thirsty."
'Thirsty?' Blair grinned and nodded. Very slowly, he stood. "Excuse me, sir?" He flinched when the muzzle swung his way.
"What?"
"I—I was just wondering if I could grab something from the galley? To drink?"
"No," Arnold sneered.
"Yes."
Arnold glared at Red for countering his answer.
Red nodded at Blair. "Grab a cart, pass some out to everyone."
Jim watched the hijackers as his partner made his way around the cabin. 'Number One, check.'
"He's getting worse, isn't he?"
Chris' head jerked up at Red's voice, then nodded.
"Maybe I can help?"
Both Red and Chris stared at the man across the aisle who had spoken.
Jim stood up slowly. "I use to be a medic."
"Medic? You mean in the army?" Red's eyes narrowed, Arnold took a menacing step forward.
Jim took a chance and nodded. He didn't move as he was frisked.
"He's clean."
Red nodded but continued to stare at Jim. "Army, huh? What do you do now?"
"I work for my father. Ellison Corporation. You heard of it?"
"You don't look like a suit."
Jim shrugged. "Once military, always military. But it didn't 'suit' me."
Blair held his breath, not even blinking at another of Jim's bad jokes. 'Why the hell is he singling himself out? They sure as hell weren't gonna believe he was just some grunt! Jim's got covert ops written all over him!'
Red finally nodded, then moved aside.
Jim knelt next to the long-haired man, examining him. "Jim Ellison."
"Chris Larabee. My partner's Vin Tanner."
Jim nodded. "Claustrophobic, right?"
"Yeah."
"Why the hell is he on this plane?"
Chris glared. "He's fine if he takes his meds, but the flight lasted longer than expected." His sarcasm made Ellison grin despite the situation. He returned the gesture with a half smile, tightening his arms when Vin began to move restlessly. Chris had coaxed Vin into getting some sleep. It was the only other way for the younger agent to deal with his brand of claustrophobia.
Jim resumed his checkup, glancing over his shoulder. "My partner can move around the cabin. Where are your men?"
Chris closed his eyes in memory. "The black guy that was sitting here ñ Nathan Jackson. Center aisle, five rows up, dressed in an Armani suit, Southerner — Ezra Standish. The blue-eyed behemoth next to him is Josiah Sanchez. Right side, in the very back, two guys, dark hair. The one with the mustache is Buck Wilmington, the one that looks like a teenager is JD Dunne."
Jim nodded, committing the descriptions to memory. "Partner's name is Blair Sandburg."
Chris glanced at the young man whose hair was longer and a million times curlier than Vin's. "Vice?"
Jim's lips twitched. "Major Crimes, actually."
"Got a plan yet, grunt?"
"You're the ATF team leader, shouldn't you have one?"
Silence.
Jim winced.
"How did you know I'm ATF?" Chris stared at the top of the detective's head.
"I saw your badge," Jim said glibly, then prayed.
"From that distance?"
Jim winced at the utter disbelief in the other man's voice, but nodded anyway.
Chris continued to stare at the top of the detective's head. "I don't believe you." He cut off the instant denial. "But I don't care."
Jim's head jerked up. Clear green eyes bored into his.
"I'm going to trust you." Chris paused, stroking the slightly damp hair away from Vin's face. Then glanced in the direction of his other men. "I have to."
Jim stared, then nodded. It was an understanding between two alpha males. "If you need to, just whisper ... I'll hear you."
Larabee's eyes widened slightly but he nodded.
"Jim?" Blair moved back to his seat when his best friend finally finished with the two men.
"Larabee's going to think up something."
Blair's eyebrows rose. "Why not you?"
"Because they've got me pegged. I do anything other than sit here and talk to you, they'll get suspicious." Jim glanced at his friend. "He'll come up with a plan, pass it on to me, and you'll pass it on to the rest of his team."
"And me moving around isn't suspicious?"
Jim shrugged. "We've already established you as 'Stewardess Barbie', they won't think twice about it."
Blair shot daggers for the Barbie remark, but nodded. "So how do we know what the plan is?"
"Larabee's going to whisper it to me."
"You told him!" Blair hissed as he grabbed Jim's sleeve, darting anxious looks over at the ATF agent.
"Relax, Chief. I just told him I would be able to hear him." Jim gently rubbed the back of Blair's hands. "Besides, he's trusting me with his entire team."
Blair studied Jim very carefully, then studied the ATF agent. He nodded, somewhat relieved.
"Ellison, if you can hear me, scratch your left ear." Chris tried again, but got no response from the detective. And just as he was about to give up, Ellison scratched. "Took you long enough."
Ellison glared.
Larabee glared right back. "I need you to get notes to my men. Think your partner's up to it?"
He nodded.
"Tell them that you two are with us. No heroics. Wait for the signal. Sign it 'Yul and Steve'."
Jim mouthed the two words, but Larabee's glare dared him to do much else. He just nodded, then turned to Blair.
JD nearly jumped out of his seat when the hand landed on his shoulder.
"Sorry, man, didn't mean to —"
"No prob, dude." JD was using his 'I'm sixteen' persona. Sometimes, it paid to look a helluva a lot younger than his real age. People tended to seriously underestimate him. "Much to their dismay," as Ezra like to put it.
Blair nodded, then indicated the cart. "Get ya somethin'?"
"Yeah, milk?"
The hijacker closest to them snorted in derision, causing JD to "cower" just a little. His reaction to the hijacker and the milk was perfectly in character for his cover. Internally, the young man was plotting the fastest way to take the behemoth down.
Buck glared, then turned to Blair. "One for me too."
Blair nodded, grabbing the folded napkins for them both.
The two men nodded their thanks as Blair moved on.
JD nearly had a heart attack when he unfolded his napkin. "Buck."
The older man looked down at JD's hands, snatching the note, then glanced up. No one noticed. Buck smirked at the signature at the end of the note. "Yul and Steve." Yul Brennar and Steve McQueen, the leader and his second in command from the movie the "Magnificent Seven." Of course. "It's the real McCoy, kid."
The young agent nodded, then carefully studied Blair. "Who is he?"
"Don't know, don't care, Chris trusts him."
JD nodded.
"Ellison, if you can hear me, scratch your left ear."
Jim rolled his eyes, but scratched.
Chris exhaled in relief. "Need you to get another note to Standish and Sanchez. Get them to cause a distraction. Give them their note last. Put 'Be ready' on the other notes. Same signature."
Jim nodded once more, then barely turned his head towards Sandburg, repeating the instructions.
Blair nodded, then began scribbling the notes. "I'll have to wait until lunch."
Jim grunted, raising his index finger and tapping his watch.
Larabee's eyes narrowed, not wanting to wait. He opened his mouth —
"Chris?"
He glanced down. "How you doing, Vin?"
Vin shrugged. "Been better." He glanced around. "What's the plan?"
"What makes you think there's a plan?"
"Bullshit, Larabee." He glared at his friend. "Tell me."
Chris sighed, but grinned, not surprised at Vin's newly coherent state. The sharpshooter always came through for his friends. Chris quickly filled him in.
"But?" Vin could feel the tension between Chris and the cop. "You ain't happy about something."
"He wants to wait until one." Chris shot a look over at Ellison again, knowing that he was listening.
"We might as well." Vin flinched, knowing he was gonna get hell for this. "It'll give the meds time to kick in."
"Meds?" Chris' brow furrowed. "You want to be knocked out?"
Vin scrunched down even more. "Alex gave me some meds that won't make me sleep for the trip."
"And you didn't take it?" The words were bitten off, chew up and spat out.
"You know I hate takin' that shit. 'Sides, this stuff don't help all that much."
"And you didn't take it?" Oh yeah, Chris was mad.
"Aww, hell, cowboy ... "
"Don't you fuckin' 'cowboy' me, Tanner! When we get off this plane ... "
Jim chuckled.
"What?"
Jim shook his head. "Later, Sandburg. We move at one."
Blair nodded, but made a mental note to ask later.
Ezra carefully refolded the note. "It seems, Josiah, that we are to be the luncheon entertainment."
"Oh really?" Josiah's blue eyes twinkled. "This should be fun."
"Indeed."
"Do we have a go?"
Ezra nodded, then stood. "Sir, I insist that you move me at once!"
Every head turned as the loud Southern voice filled the cabin.
"What for?" Arnold glared, pointing his gun at Ezra.
"This... this Neanderthal refuses to shut up! He constantly squawks like a cockatoo. It is simply intolerable!"
"And what about you!" Josiah roared, surging to his feet. "You haven't stopped complaining since you sat your ass down in that seat!"
Every eye was on the two combatants.
Another of the hijackers joined Arnold, his gun pointed at the larger Sanchez.
"At least I have the decency ... "
"Decency? You wouldn't know decency if it jumped up and bit you on the ass!"
"Why you ... " Ezra raised a fist.
BAM!
Ezra's grin was rather feral as he felt the satisfying crunch of his annoyer's bones under his fist.
Glancing at Vin to make sure the younger man was ready, Chris inched his gun from the pocket in front of him. Waiting until he was sure the hijacker closest to him was riveted on his team members, Larabee eased himself upright. "I wouldn't if I were you." He pressed the muzzle of his gun into Red's temple.
Jim grabbed the hijacker closest to him, cutting off the man's air.
Blair had his gun trained on the one behind his partner. "Drop it."
Red glanced around and saw his cohorts in almost the same positions ... well, except for Nixon who was out cold at Josiah's feet. The little Southerner was rubbing his fist.
"Josiah, Ezra, get into the cockpit," Chris ordered, holding his gun poised to shoot, while glancing around the cabin. JD and Buck had the back covered. Ellison and his partner had the terrorists on the left of side of the plane on their knees. Nathan and Vin had subdued the last group. Then Chris acknowledged the passengers. "It's all right folks. Federal agents."
Applause broke out.
Chris tugged on Arnold's cuffs, making sure they held.
"Mr. Larabee." Ezra's voice brought his head up. The dark haired agent nodded at Vin. Ezra wordlessly took over his guarding duties.
Chris swore. Two steps brought him to Vin's side. "Hey, cowboy, time to take your real meds."
Vin vehemently shook his head, the quick jerky breaths making it difficult to talk. "N-no. H-h-hostiles--"
"Have been taken care of," Chris said firmly, cupping Vin's face. "You need your meds."
"N-need to w-wa-watch your back."
"Vin..."
"Aww, ain't that sweet? Making sure you get some tonight?" Arnold sneered. "Why don't you let your daddy take care of you, hmm, sweet thang? I'm sure he gets his kicks—"
Vin growled, launching himself at the man.
Chris watched dispassionately as Vin knocked the hijacker's lights out.
Vin stood over the unconscious man, breathing hard.
Chris tugged Vin's arm. "Meds?"
Vin nodded, sinking against Chris' reassuring warmth.
Jim and Blair watched as Tanner nearly ran out of the plane. Beside them, Larabee smirked while Wilmington chuckled.
To Blair's surprise, they found Vin in the arms of an incredibly beautiful woman. He glanced at Larabee only to find the man focused on an equally stunning blonde woman who was rushing towards them.
"Chris!" She threw herself into his arms. "I was worried."
"I'm fine, Mary."
"Uh huh, sure you are." She turned. "Nathan?"
Chris let loose an exasperated sigh. "Nate, could you please tell my wife that we're all fine?"
Nathan chuckled. "Everyone's safe and accounted for, ma'am."
Jim saw Blair mouthed "his wife."
"But I thought... "
Jim chuckled. "Looks can be deceiving, Chief."
"You knew?"
"Cop instincts." Jim smirked.
Sandburg snorted, rolling his eyes.
"Ante up, Sandburg." Henri Brown gleefully held out his hand.
"I can't believe it! So close! A few more hours and that would have been mine." Sandburg slapped the twenty into his fellow detective's hand, still eyeing the rather large pile of money inside one of H's fishing hats. "So who won the pool anyway?"
Brown snorted. "Your partner."
"What?!"
"Well, that was a profitable trip."
"Profitable?" Nathan twisted in his seat and stared at Ezra in surprise.
Ezra smiled, his dimples deepening. "Yes, Mr. Jackson, I do believe I won the office pool."
"Wait a minute! You bet that we would get into trouble?" JD exclaimed.
"No, Mr. Dunne, I bet on how we would get into trouble." Ezra smirked. "The other teams have found that betting on us getting into any kind of mishap is useless. They have now expanded their betting pools to what kind situation we would find ourselves in."
Chris turned, staring thunderstruck at the utter deviousness of Ezra's mind. "You bet that we were going to be hijacked?"
The other five men stared incredulously at the undercover agent, who simply shrugged with no remorse.
"It had the least favored odds — hostage situation at the hotel being the favorite — therefore I knew that it would be the most likely situation we would find ourselves in."
The others groaned.
Finis
Feedback to Author