Universe: Alternate ATF Universe - The Silence AU
Rating: PG13 (Some Language)
Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't sue. Not trying to make money off of this story.
Comments: Read Then All Was Silence first. Another curve ball for our Ezra. And I don't know what chemicals, they're fictional. Thanks to Mog, for being a pioneer. Many thanks to the fine people at Lady Angel's Library.
Hans Gruber stared at the small handwritten message in his hands and started to laugh.
Hans was serving out the last of his ten-year sentence for drug production and distribution. An FBI agent by the name of Ezra Standish had infiltrated his boss' industry and had gathered enough evidence to put all of them away for goodly sums of time in jail. His boss was serving a twenty-year term in another jail.
But this ... this was too rich. The note from his informant on the outside enlightened Hans that Agent Standish was now with the ATF's famous Magnificent Seven. And the real laugh was that the undercover agent was now deaf.
It couldn't have been better news. Well, other than the fact that Agent Standish met an untimely death and was cold in the ground. Now that would have been truly great news.
But Hans had other plans for the Agent when he was released tomorrow from jail. They involved his own private little formula that he had been working on for ten years in jail and a dart gun.
Ezra Standish was the proud owner of cutting edge technology for the deaf. Well, at least according to J.D. Dunne, computer and technology expert. J.D. designed a whole system for him that connected his home to the other seven, at their homes and at the office. There was no off the shelf equipment used in the design. J.D. even set up the lights in the house to blink in different codes for the phone ringing and the door bell ringing. Ezra was never quite as amazed as when J.D. finally showed him the finished renovations.
As soon as the Judge found out about Ezra's deafness, the Seven leaped into action. Ezra was immediately moved from undercover work to surveillance and research. No one researched a case and its various angles and players like Ezra before a case. That was enough to keep Ezra with the team and the Judge happy at the same time. With some tutelage from Ezra, Buck Wilmington was becoming a fairly good undercover agent. His good ol' boy attitude along with his deceptive sunny smile was getting him into deep cover with the foulest of gangs and gunrunners.
The Magnificent Seven were still seven.
And Ezra was happy to stay.
Ezra's house was put back in order and taken off the for sale market. His things were back in their places. For what he had sold off three months earlier, he bought new ones or left them as frivolous items not worth spending extra money on.
His job was becoming a new challenge for him. Staying in the van with J.D. and helping with the research was becoming enjoyable to him. It was like a chess game and he was the chess master. He was able to move the pieces around to suit himself as he planned these raids with Chris Larabee, their leader.
"Ezra," said J.D.
Ezra continued to watch the monitors in the van. He could sometimes make out what the bad guys were saying from the small camera placed in Buck's jacket button and was concentrating on feeling out the tone of the meeting. His years as an undercover were still with him and he could still tell when an operation was going sour just by the look on a mark's face. He would pass on an alert if he thought Buck was about to get made as a federal agent.
'Oh, damn,' thought J.D. He forgot again that Ezra could no longer hear. Between Ezra's lip-reading and normal talking voice, he sometimes forgot that the suave con man could no longer hear him or understand unless he was facing him. J.D. reached out and touched Ezra on the arm to get his attention.
Ezra didn't jerk at the unexpected touch. He was starting to get used to the other men touching him to get his attention. He turned questioning green eyes on his younger associate. "Yes, Mr. Dunne?"
"Chris is telling us to move up, the deal is about to go down. Buck just gave the code word. He wants you to stay in the van for now."
Ezra nodded. He still wore his guns and his bullet proof vest just in case, but Chris rarely allowed him into the middle of a bust. Ezra allowed himself a small smirk. Overprotective big brother Chris thought that was the best thing for right now to allow Ezra enough time to acclimate to his new condition.
"As he wishes, Mr. Dunne."
J.D. gave his a thumb's up and exited the van, leaving Ezra on his own. He went back to studying the camera yield. Chris usually allowed him to come in when the bad guys were being rounded up and clean up was starting. Ezra usually helped with the scene clean up and putting the suspects into the police cars. He may be deaf, but he wasn't blind. He could tell when a suspect was going to try something and he would take measures to stop the suspect cold.
Ah, there was the signal. From the frantic movement of Buck's camera, he could only get glimpses of his friends as the raid went down.
When the gun smoke cleared and the camera steadied, Buck gave the sign to 'come' in sign language in front of his button camera so that Ezra could move in to help.
As Ezra slid the door open to the van and stepped out, he felt a sharp pain just as he saw a streak of something yellow cross his vision. He looked down to the pain and saw a dart like hunters used on animals to put them asleep. The plunger was pushed all the way in, so whatever was in the dart was now in his body.
He took three steps and swept the area with his eyes, but saw nothing or no one. He pulled his hip gun and took another step when a strange feeling came over him. His head began to whirl and his vision began to gray out. He quickly stepped back to the van and steadied himself.
And then all was blackness.
He gasped.
'No, no, no, no!' he mentally screamed in fear. He took a moment to compose himself.
Ezra could still speak and he reached into the van blindly and picked up one of the radios that were tuned to the earplug receivers used by the Seven during raids. He didn't know what they were saying right now, but he figured they would forgive his bad manners of interrupting.
"Agent down by the surveillance van."
He then carefully lowered himself down to sit in the open doorway of the van and pulled out the painful dart, only holding it by its yellow plastic end. Maybe they could get some prints off of the body of the dart.
It didn't take long for the others to reach him. Just enough time to secure the prisoners and hand them off to the first police man they saw and then run out of the building to the van. Ezra felt a hand on him to get his attention, to read their lips, but it was futile.
He was blind.
"Gentlemen, it seems that someone has darted me like a wild animal. The dart needs to be analyzed and I think I need to go to the hospital. Whatever was in it has made me blind."
Ezra didn't hear the gasps of horror that went around the team, but he could take a good guess.
"If you are wondering how to communicate with me, I have a Braille typewriter at home if Mr. Dunne would be so good as to go and get it for me." Ezra held out his keys and they were taken from his hand.
Before he could put his hand back down, it was taken into a tight grip by a large, rough hand.
Josiah, the father of this motley bunch, both spiritually and mentally.
"Now, Mr. Sanchez. I'm fine for now. Just a little ... out of sorts. I'm sure the hospital will have some answers to this mystery."
Josiah looked at the younger man and wondered how he could tell who was holding his hand. Nathan stepped forward with a plastic baggy from the van and carefully transferred the dart from Ezra's other hand and into the bag. He then ripped the sleeve of Ezra's silk shirt to get a better look at the wound.
"Really, Mr. Jackson, I could have taken the shirt off instead of you ripping it. You know how much these shirts cost?"
Nathan shook his head in amusement. Ezra was always Ezra, no matter what the situation.
Chris had called an ambulance and came back to stand before his ailing agent. He softly put a hand on Ezra's cheek.
"Really, Chris, I'm fine," Ezra whispered and pressed his cheek into Chris' hand.
The hand slid down to his neck, squeezed and then let go.
Each man there touched Ezra in some way to let him know that they were there for him. And he knew them one by one, amazing them to no end. They didn't realize that their physical touch, hand size and mannerisms where enough for the man who had known them for over three years now.
His mother had taught him well.
The hospital staff was of little or no help. As a rule, Ezra didn't like doctors or the smell of hospitals. His vision and hearing may be gone, but he could still smell that odor.
They also made him take off his bullet proof vest and guns. He felt practically naked without them since it seemed that someone was after him.
Josiah still held him by the hand, leading him from room to room as they ran tests to try to find out what chemicals were in the dart. Meanwhile, the dart was also being analyzed by their poison center.
All tests came back inconclusive.
The doctors knew something was cutting the eye's signals from reaching the brain, but by what, they didn't know.
Ezra shrugged when they typed the results out on the Braille typewriter he had J.D. fetch from his home.
"It's what I expected. Whoever has done this heinous thing to me would have picked something that could not be identified or countered. It would be best if I just went back to my abode."
Chris didn't like that idea. What if whoever it was came back to finish the job? But no objection he could type on the typewriter could persuade Ezra from going home.
So Chris grimly strapped Ezra's vest and guns back on. Every bit of firepower would help at this point.
Hans Gruber laughed as he watched the once great undercover agent being led by the hand like a child into the hospital. They would not find out his little gift to the traitor. He had made sure that it was potent and would do the job. He had traded cigarettes, chocolate and a few other rare items to test his little drug on other inmates in jail.
Hans just wanted the traitor to know what it felt like to be in a prison. No freedom ... the constant fear of attack.
He knew that even though the drug was potent, it would wear off eventually.
But before then, Agent Ezra Standish would die.
At home, Ezra was more comfortable. He knew his way around without his sight or his hearing.
He sat on the sofa and rubbed his forehead. He felt a slight headache, but he guessed that the chemicals were causing that or maybe stress.
Ezra carefully didn't think on his blindness. He had allowed himself only a momentary panic at first, but stopped it from degenerating into screaming fear. He had adjusted to deafness and if this was something permanent, then he would adjust to being blind as well. When thoughts of his job intruded into his conscious mind, he pushed all thinking away and sat in quiet darkness.
Ezra felt someone sit beside him and felt a piece of paper forced into his hand.
<Ezra, why do you have a Braille typewriter when you weren't blind? J.D.>
Ezra snorted. "I like to be prepared for all contingencies since I lost my hearing. I suppose you saw my laptop for writing if I lost my voice. It's all a part of my training. What I didn't learn from my Mother, I learned from the FBI."
<You also have a wheelchair in there, Ez. J.D.>
"Well, like I said, all contingencies."
Another paper after a while. <Ez, no fingerprints on the dart. Chris.>
Ezra just sighed.
The wait was long. At least one of the Seven was with Ezra at all times in case he needed help with anything. He usually didn't.
What he did need help with was his increasing dread that this was turning out to be a permanent condition. His heart raced as often as not. His breathing would speed up to the point of hyperventilating. It was these times that having another living, breathing person around was a plus. Nathan Jackson, the team medic, would put a hand on his shoulder during his panic attacks and coach him to a more normal breathing pattern.
Josiah Sanchez, hoping to help keep Ezra's mind elsewhere, would go to the local library and check out Braille books for Ezra to pass the time with.
Vin Tanner, the team sniper, used his ability to get up with the chickens in the mornings to help prepare the bathroom and kitchen for when Ezra woke. He even toned his rust-removing coffee down to an acceptable level that Ezra would enjoy.
J.D Dunne and Buck Wilmington were banned by the others from cooking and cleaning in Ezra's home. When they complained, various crude comments were made about their shared loft and its often spoken nickname. So they were regulated to lookouts. Buck kept an eye on the front street for suspicious vehicles and J.D. combed through lists of Ezra's old cases on his laptop computer while peaking out at Ezra's backyard from time to time.
Chris Larabee spent most of his time sitting near Ezra. He wasn't going to stray far when some unknown hurt one of his men. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't going to leave Ezra until the man or woman responsible to Ezra's newest pain was caught and punished. This was a silent promise he made to himself and Ezra.
On the third day of the vigil over Ezra, someone tapped him on the shoulder and passed him another piece of paper.
<Ez, a letter came. Said he wanted you to feel like it was to be in a prison. That you were going to die before you could see the light of day again. Chris.>
Ezra felt over to his overstuffed chair and sat down to think. He had put many a man and woman away during his career as an undercover agent. There were many possibilities, but one man in particular stood out in his mind. Someone who would posses the skill set to pull off something like this. It was a chemist that worked for Jules Cameron on a drug operation. Once the gang had been busted, he threatened to put Ezra away in a 'prison' and show him how if felt. He even threatened his life.
"Hans Gruber. He threatened me. Check to see if he's still in jail."
A piece of paper. <How?>
"He was a chemist for a drug ring I busted in the FBI. He threatened to put me in a prison. And then he threatened to kill me when he was released. I didn't take him that seriously. He wasn't a killer at the time, just a production man for Jules Cameron."
<You're going to be under guard from now on. Two of us with you at all times. Chris.>
"As you wish, gentlemen."
He wasn't about to put up a fight on this matter. Deaf, he could still see to point a gun and shoot. But deaf and blind was a deadly combination for him. He would never be able to defend himself on such short notice without any training to overcome his combined disabilities.
J.D. used his laptop computer and made a face when the information popped up. "Yeap, he's out. Been on the outside for almost two weeks now."
Chris wanted to break something, but most of Ezra's stuff was either antiques or new. He wouldn't appreciate having to replace any of it. "Find him," was all he growled out as he went back to Ezra.
Hans knew where his target lived. He had followed them to his house when they left the hospital that first night. To be such a touted team of great ability, they sure didn't know that they were being followed.
Now all he had to do was pick a spot and wait for the right shot.
The search for Gruber's current located came up empty and Team Seven was sitting around Ezra's house in various states of disappointment. It was frustrating to know who you needed and not be able to find out a scrap of information about him.
It was night time when Vin noticed something.
"Chris."
Chris Larabee looked up from his stare at Ezra, who was back to sitting on the sofa. "Yeah?"
"We must have been followed here at some point," said Vin Tanner as he edged around the room to peek out of the windows. "Someone's been across the street for a while now. I can catch glimpses of him every once in a while."
"Should we tell Ez?" asked Chris, looking back at Ezra's tilted head.
"We have to. It's his life at stake here."
Chris typed on the typewriter and gave it to Ezra. <Ezra, man across the street. Gruber? Chris.>
"Probably. I think it's time to draw him out."
Chris didn't like the sound of that. He typed furiously on the typewriter.
"I mean to give Gruber a target. Then you gentlemen can do what you do best. Grab up the bad guy."
Chris was shaking his head even though Ezra couldn't see him. He pushed another piece of paper into Ezra's hand. All it said was: <NO!>
"Come now, let's get this over with. He wants me and he'll get me eventually. Let's end this quickly." And with that Ezra lunged from the sofa and into the path of the nearest window.
The others frantically reached for him, but didn't even get a chance to grab him.
Vin was still by the window when a bullet shattered the glass and Ezra went down in a heap, holding his stomach.
"Damn, damn, damn! Lord, that hurts! I hope Mr. Tanner got Gruber's location from the muzzle flash, because this hurts like hell."
Chris was about to slap him when he saw Vin rip open the door and rush out into the darkness. "J.D., stay with the idiot, we're going after Gruber."
J.D. touched Ezra on the shoulder in concern.
"I'm quite well, Mr. Dunne, thanks to whoever invented these wonderful contraptions." He moved his hands to show the ripped material of his vest just below his sternum. "See, just going to be a spectacular bruise."
J.D. didn't like that comment, so he slapped Ezra on the back of the head like Buck usually did to him when he did something stupid.
"Ow, no reason for violence, Mr. Dunne. The act is done. I have every confidence that our associates will find the miscreant now that he had revealed his position."
They settled down by the wall next to the door and waited.
"Where the hell did he go?" screamed Chris.
Vin was looking at the ground and picked up a spent shell. "He was here a minute ago. He shot at Ezra from here." He looked around again. "He left in that direction." He pointed to the right.
Josiah looked down the road and then groaned. "He's circling back to Ezra's house!"
They rushed back across the street and as they hit Ezra's gate, they heard gunshots.
J.D. was silently cursing to himself. He didn't know how the man had gotten the drop on him, but here he was with a large bore rifle sighted at his head.
Gruber smiled. "Now don't move, Agent. All I want is Agent Standish. You don't mean anything to me. Understand? Nothing. It won't hurt me to take you out as well."
J.D. just nodded, not trusting his voice. He shuddered slightly, his back to Ezra trying to shield him partially from Gruber.
Ezra felt a change in the room. It was his 'bust gone bad' feeling.
The wall he was resting against had suddenly shuddered as if his front door was flung open and it hit the wall hard. He frowned. He didn't think that any of his team would have reason to do that unless ... unless Gruber was in the room. That's when he felt J.D. shudder slightly in front of him.
Ezra used J.D. as cover as he pulled his hideout gun and slowly raised it using J.D.'s body as a guide. He felt J.D. stiffen in silent response as the gun barrel touched his body. Ezra hissed softly and J.D. relaxed slightly.
Ezra put his left hand on J.D.'s left shoulder as if in confusion, but he squeezed J.D.'s shoulder to calm him and to silently ask for some help.
J.D. calmed himself long enough to consider how to get out of the standoff with Gruber. Ezra had the gun, but couldn't see to shoot it. J.D. could see, but didn't have the gun.
J.D. eased his left hand up to his shoulder and put it over Ezra's hand.
"What are you doing, Agent?" growled Gruber, his rifle wavering from J.D.'s head to Ezra's.
"He doesn't know what's going on. I'm just making sure he doesn't do anything."
Gruber laughed. "It don't matter if he does or not. I'm still going to kill him."
J.D. pressed on Ezra's pointer finger with his pinky. Ezra considered what this meant and J.D. pressed again. Ezra slowly moved the muzzle of his gun to the right across J.D.'s back. He stopped when J.D. squeezed his hand again.
Ezra smirked on the inside. J.D. never ceased to amaze him with his quick mind under pressure.
Ezra tightened his gripe on J.D.'s shoulder and then tapped out a three count on J.D.'s back as a mark to go.
At the third tap, he brought up his gun and shot at the general direction pointed out by J.D. He fired twice with his left hand on J.D.'s shoulder to make sure he didn't shoot his associate by mistake.
They weren't perfect shots, but enough for J.D. to leap forward from Ezra's hand and wrestle the rifle from Gruber and push him to the floor.
Blood poured from Gruber's left arm where the second shot hit him and he cried out as J.D. threw the gun away and flipped him onto his stomach. J.D. pulled Gruber's hands together to cuff them with a pair of handcuffs he always carried on his belt.
Chris and the others chose that moment to bust in through the open door and almost give J.D. a heart attack.
"Geez, guys, knock before you come in, O.K.?" J.D. fell back from a groaning Gruber and put a reassuring hand on Ezra's shoulder and pushed his gun down to point at the floor. After a moment, Ezra put it back in its holster.
It was early morning when the police came for Gruber and charged him with assault on a federal officer. J.D. wrote out a page and gave it to Ezra only to get a shock.
Ezra was looking at the sky and the sun rising in the east. "Well, gentlemen, it seems I am seeing the light of day again before I die. And I'll not die today."
Buck grabbed Ezra by the shoulders. "You can see again?"
Ezra looked at the rest of the team. "Yes. I can see every ugly one of you."
Buck shook him and pushed him away. "Well, that's a how you do. We protect you from some crazy guy and you call us ugly."
Ezra exchanged a look with J.D. "If I remember correctly, it was Mr. Dunne and I who subdued the suspect. You were traipsing around in the trees and dark while we were on the job."
Chris just shook his head as Ezra's and J.D.'s resourcefulness. "I think I liked you better blind. You didn't talk so much." He studied Ezra for a moment as a thought came to him. "How did you know you weren't shooting at one of us?"
Ezra just traded smirks with J.D., his dimples accenting his gold tooth.
The End
February 26, 2003
Revised February 29, 2004
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