The Citadel

By The Scribe

Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.



Part Three

The General

Chris Larabee was not happy when he returned to Four Corners.

Even though his friends had survived the attack of the previous night without any fatalities, Chris was seething in rage and itching to vent some of his anger on the men responsible, knowing inwardly that Bellison was not the man in charge. He did not know how he knew but the instincts that kept him alive for so many years was more reliable than any factual data so Chris tended to believe it when his gut told him it was Hannibal Julius behind all this. Unfortunately, a gut feeling could not lead him to find the man and it was this lack of knowledge that further deepened Chris frustration and the stoked the fires of his rage into a filthy mix of bad temperament and lethal intent.

Not wishing to create any further friction between himself and Mary because he knew she had not deserved his outburst and had probably given rise to all sorts of insecurities in his reaction about her idea of a nursery, that he wanted to spare her his mood for the moment. After returning from the Lucky Seven ranch and shifting the location of the nitro to Nettie Well's property, Chris busied himself in town. Naturally the first order of business was getting Alex patched up. Josiah, JD and Vin went to get some well deserved rest while Buck and Ezra ensured the nitro was well hidden on Nettie's property, not anywhere the widow or her niece could get hurt if anyone came after it. Bellison's men must have come from somewhere and for the moment that was the only lead they had to finding him. Chris was forced to stay behind in the hopes that the army would send a wire in response to their request to remove the nitro.

By late afternoon, Franklin at the telegraph office delivered the message he was waiting for and as he glanced at the paper, realised that the army should be arriving at any moment if the contents of the message were to be believed. Apparently, they were sending down a general or something to collect the stuff. This did not improve Chris' mood because he was in no condition to deal with a pompous ass of a Union general, having more experience with those than he would like to admit. Finally as the sun set on the day and Chris debated whether or not he was going home for supper, he found himself in the saloon with the rest of his comrades who had congregated there after the day's events. Vin had just returned from visiting Alex who was even worse tempered when she was a patient and found that he had a partner in misery when Vin ordered a double and downed it in one swallow.

"How's Miss Alex?" Nathan inquired as Vin ordered a beer after he had finished his double whisky and drifted towards their usual table with his mug once it was served to him.

"Oh meaner than a rattle snake." Vin shook his head wondering how any woman could be so impossible about her own health and have no trouble dictating how others should conduct their own.

"Then she's fine." Chris replied, aware of how Mary could be. During the period when she had been suffering the worst of morning sickness, she had roamed the house like a bear with a thorn in its foot. He had to take Billy fishing just to ensure she did not start devouring her own child with the furious state her mood had been.

"Miss Alex can be a handful," Nathan chuckled. "Good thing, I don't have to put up with that sort of thing.

God must have been listening because a second after that comment had passed his lips; Rain stopped at their table on her way back to the bar with an empty tray and barked. "Nathan Jackson, are you not supposed to be studying? Your tests are only a few weeks away."

"Come on Rain....." Nathan started to say, glad that his colouring hid his embarrassment because his friends at the table were trying their hardest to rein in the sniggers and chortles threatening to escape them in front of his lady.

"I will hear no arguments Nathan," she said firmly. "You yourself, said you needed much studying time. I will not serve you another drink because you will leave after this one."

"But...."

She was not listening and continued her journey. Only after she had disappeared into the kitchen did the explosion of laughter erupt from almost everyone at the table.

Naturally it was Ezra who spoke first. "You are indeed a fortunate man, Mr Jackson." The gambler said holding a poker face even though the rest of them were still laughing while Nathan was trying to keep some dignity by holding his head high. "I would hate to see you suffering the same troubles as the rest of us."

"Shut up Ezra." Nathan growled when suddenly, he noticed a new arrival in the saloon.

In fact anyone who was not sitting at the table would have a hard time missing the man who entered through the bat wing doors, everyone except Chris that is. The gunslinger was in the process of getting another drink while the rest of his companions were staring at the man who walked into the room. Dressed in dark blue of a Union uniform, it was hard not to notice the braids and markings in gold of a senior military officer. The man himself was something to behold. If a word could be applied to him, then it would be granite. The eyes were hard like stone, dark and sharp with intense powers of perception as its deep gaze moved across the saloon, placing everyone under deep scrutiny.

He was aware that he had everyone's undivided attention at his entry into the establishment but showed little or no reaction. It was a face that was on intimate terms with battle and death. His eyes were the most telling thing about him, impenetrable like the mask he wore on his face as he continued inside the room, with another lesser officer in flank as if the man was used to being there. The general and he was a general in every sense of the word by the way he moved paused briefly when he saw the black garbed gunslinger at the bar.

To the six lawmen, there was something familiar about him they could not place, in the jaw and especially in the eyes and almost certainly in the manner. He moved like a predator, dangerous and silent but nonetheless someone who closed in for the kill on numerous occasions and was very good at it. He reminded them of a wolf, one that was accustomed to being at the pack and had won its alpha position through many tests of battle. He was the quintessential seasoned warrior of the field.

"Christopher Junior?" He called out. His voice was like gravel.

Chris dropped his glass and almost spun around, unable to ignore that voice after twenty-one years because he was still as conditioned to obey it as when he had been when he was a child.

"S...S....Sir?" Chris stammered, turning around and finding himself face to face with his.....he could not even imagine it, let alone say it out loud.

"It is you." The man said with no smile on his face but the pleasure at seeing Chris was unmistakable. The man strode across the floor, leaving his companion behind while the others watching his progress across the room, transfixed.

"Sir," Chris swallowed hard and nodded, eyes wide as he saw General Christopher Marcus Larabee walking towards him large as life. He glanced anxiously as his friends, almost pleading for help but they were too astonished by his reaction to provide anything except wide-eyed stares to the drama unfolding before them.

"Christopher Junior." The general almost smiled as he stood face to face with his son. "What are you doing here?"

"Please Sir," Chris released a breath and felt like he was ten years old again. "Don't call me that."

The general frowned. "There is nothing wrong with your name, son. Your mother liked it well enough."

"Well she ain't here." He found himself saying and that became the focus of that powerful glare that made him wish he had not spoken out of turn. "I'm sorry....." he started to stammer and then felt utterly ridiculous for apologising like a child.

"Christopher then," the general conceded, unwilling to show the boy how pleased he was to see his son. "It's been a long time." He pointed out, no hint of accusation, just a simple statement of fact.

"Yes it has," Chris swallowed, trying not to feel guilty that it was mostly because of him that they had not seen each other in all that time. Chris had fled from his life after West Point and in his shame, he had not bothered telling the general where he was going or even facing him since the terrible day of his ejection from the Academy. "How have you been Sir?"

"Better than you I hear," the general said coolly, always with that understated voice lacking in feeling but not intensity. "You became a gunslinger? I sent you the best schools in Indiana so that you can get drunk and pick fights in saloons across the West?"

"I am not a gunslinger." Chris straightened up, regaining some of his bearings and preparing to protest.

"I don't have time for this," the general brushed aside anything further he had to say. "Who's the law in this town? I came here to see him."

"I am." Chris said reluctantly, uncertain how the general was going to take this bit of news. "Me and six men have been hired to protect the town unofficially." Suddenly it occurred to Chris that the general had come to town because of the wire he had sent to the army in regards to the nitro glycerin shipment they had stumbled across. "You're here about the nitro."

"That and a little more." The general responded. "Are you settled here?" He asked.

"Yes," Chris nodded, glancing past the man's shoulder to see the others watching them both with a mixture of amusement and outright surprise. "I got a horse ranch outside of town."

"Married?" The general looked at him.

"Yes." He nodded and realised that the general probably knew about Sarah and Adam and felt a pang of guilt that his actions had kept his father from ever knowing his grandson.

"I trust I will get to meet your wife this time." He retorted before turning on his heels and starting out of the saloon just as abruptly as he always did when he had little patience with a subject or a person. "Well let's get started."

Chris could only stare after him as he made his way out of the saloon. His companion, a colonel by the looks of it, immediately fell into stride with the general as he headed towards the door. The Colonel looked over his shoulder long enough to offer Chris a look of confusion before the general paused and said in a loud voice.

"Are you coming Christopher?" He asked in that same firm voice.

"Yes Sir," Chris answered automatically and winced when he did. He was a grown man for god sakes! Why was he still behaving like a child in front of his father? As soon as the words left him, the general continued onwards, expecting him to be not far behind. Only when the man had left the room, could Chris feel any semblance of normalcy returning to him. He was breathing hard trying to catch his breath as he walked towards the table where his friends were seated.

"Mr Larabee, did we just happen to be in the presence of your.....dare we say it....." Ezra started to say.

"Yes," Chris looked down and shot the gambler a murderous glare. "That was my father."

"Your father is a general?" JD exclaimed even though it should have been painfully obvious by the union blue uniform and the gold braids.

"You okay pard?" Vin asked, seeing the look in Chris' eyes as that being of someone who was thrown completely out of his depth and shaken to the core. In the years that Vin had ridden with Chris and dared to call him his best friend, the tracker had never seen Chris so off balance. He supposed the arrival of a long lost father would do that to a person.

"Damn Chris," Buck looked at him with a wide grin before Chris could answer. "You never told me you had a dad in the army. Hell I known you longer than anyone here and that's the first time I knew you weren't raised by bears."

"Christopher are you coming?" The general voice barked through the open saloon door once again.

Chris rolled his eyes and swore under his breath, finding this entire episode exceedingly humiliating and wishing the earth would swallow him up instead. "I'm coming Sir." He answered loudly but politely, through his teeth before starting towards the door and gave his friends a look of pure menace. "First one of you says a word and I shoot something off that don't grow back." He growled and strode out the bat wing doors.

No one said a word until after Chris had left.

"Wow." Nathan whistled softly. "That was Chris father."

"I guess so," Josiah replied, completely understanding why the hardened gunslinger was the way he was. "I guess the apple don't fall too far from the tree after all."

"You know," Buck downed the last of his beer as he prepared to step into the fray, not about to miss one minute of this reunion between Chris Larabee and his father for anything in the world. "I've known him for going on thirteen years now and that's the first time I've even seen him squirm like this. And I ain't far wrong his being raised by bears either."

"Hey, ain't I got enough trouble!" Chris stuck his head through the bat wing doors again, impatience etched in his face as he waited for them. "Get your asses out here!"

"Like I said," Buck sighed when Chris had disappeared again. "Bears."


Ten minutes later, Chris Larabee found himself inside the confines of the jailhouse with the rest of his men in the untenable position between his men and his father. There was silence as both camps faced each other and it fell to him to introduce them to each other even though he was not relishing one minute of this torture. At present, the only comfortable position for him to be was on his horse, riding like a bat out of hell away from Four Corners forever. In nineteen years, this was the one place he did not wish to be when General Christopher Marcus Larabee was present.

"This is here is General Marcus Larabee," Chris said reluctantly to his men after he had introduced them to his father. He shot them a furious glare to keep any comments about his paternal relationship with the general to themselves.

"Men," the general tipped his hat at their direction in acknowledgment as he stood amongst them and gestured to the soldier on his left. "This is Colonel Markham my adjutant. I hear you've come across a load of nitro."

"More than a load General," Ezra spoke up. "A veritable fortune."

"How much?" Larabee asked without looking at Chris but nevertheless expected the answer to come from his son.

"Four wagon loads," Chris replied from where he was seated behind the desk. "Six to begin with. Two got blown up when during gunfire and pursuit."

"That would be about right Sir, " Markham declared with Larabee nodding in agreement.

"What would be right?" Buck questioned, guessing as they all had by now by the general's manner that there was more going on here than just a simple matter of nitro.

"You don't need to know." Markham retorted. "Its classified."

"You need our help and in our town," Chris said firmly, staring down the man as he rose to his feet. "You better declassify it if you expect our cooperation." He tried not to look at the general as he made that bold statement.

Markham opened his mouth to speak when Larabee responded, with a little bit of a smile. "Its all right Markham, tell them."

"But Sir," Markham protested and Larabee silenced him with a look that each member of the seven knew all too well with the exception of Chris.

"Oh my god, it is hereditary." Ezra remarked and received a scathing glare from Chris but a rather amused one from the general.

"Yes Sir, " the Colonel swallowed and faced the men before him once again, rather contritely this time around. "Less than a week ago, one of our army trains carrying a large shipment of nitro glycerin was ambushed a hijacked by train robbers. They killed everyone on board and stole the shipment bound for a munition factory in the east. We traced them as far as Eagle Bend and believe they were to be delivered to a secret buyer deep in the Territory."

"Well they came after us where we had it stashed last night." Vin spoke up. "At least ten of them. So its pretty sure bet they're gonna still try and make that delivery."

"Was anyone hurt?" Larabee asked.

"Just a lady doctor friend of ours," Chris answered, unable to meet his father's gaze. "But Vin there managed to keep them from getting their hands on it again." He glanced in Vin's direction so that the general would know about whom he was speaking.

"Good job," the general looked at the tracker and commended. "However, since they found it the first time, chances are they will do it again. I've got a dozen men coming on their way here from the nearest fort to take it off your hands, can I count on you boys to keep an eye on it in the mean time?" He asked no one in particular even though it was fairly obvious that the lawmen of Four Corners took their lead from his son.

"We'll give you whatever help you need." Chris answered for them. "In the meantime, you mind telling me who they are?"

"General...." Markham looked at Larabee once again, trying to remind him of the protocol in this matter.

"These men are putting their lives on the line, they have the right to know what they're dealing with and I believe, Colonel," and he put enough emphasis on the man's rank to impress upon Markham who was in charge here. "That my son may have an added insight into this situation that you do not."

"I fail to see how." Markham said in a very measured voice, not at all liking the situation but not brave enough to say what was truly on his mind.

Chris did not understand. What did his father think he might know about this that he was willing to stand up against his own colonel? Suddenly, it occurred to him. "You mean Bellison."

"Not exactly," Larabee looked up and met his son's eyes and. "Bellison doesn't work alone does he?"

"Oh shit Chris," Buck exclaimed grasping the meaning behind the general's words just as quickly as Chris had. "He means Julius!"

"Who?" Nathan looked at Chris in question. "Whose Julius?"

"The general means Hannibal Alexander Julius." Markham announced reluctantly, since it now appeared that the younger Larabee had some idea bout the man that was at the centre of all this trouble.

"Last I heard, he and Bellison were supposed to be in a military prison somewhere." Chris retorted, making no attempt to explain it to the others, at least not yet.

"Julius came from a very rich family," Larabee answered. "He stayed in jail for a few years and eventually got forgotten by anyone who mattered. When that happened, it was to easy to pay someone to look the other way when he made an escape attempt. He got out and Bellison with him. They disappeared for a couple years and then we started hearing things."

"Like what?" Josiah asked.

"A secret organisation like the Ku Klux Klan but better organised and with purer goals that a simple matter of racial division. This one has a doctrine of completely uniting all races into one cohesive fighting unit that would overthrow the present regime and drive the status quo into the dirt."

"Forgive me for saying so Sir," Nathan spoke up reluctantly. "That don't exactly sound bad."

"Not it doesn't," Larabee nodded in agreement, willing to admit that there were certain merits in the ideology that united men of all colour. "However, they achieve their goals through murder and terrorism. Those are not the best foundation for the launch of a new order. Violence to gain power may be effective but establish a government in those lines is a dangerous thing and factions break up easily and we've all seen what civil war does a country. If you think two sides is dangerous, wait until its every racial group with a gripe." He paused a moment and contained his speech making for the moment.

Chris found himself recognising the pattern and thought with a smile that very little about his father changed, especially his way of commanding men and his ability to recognise what meant something to them. The general did not believe in speech making and when he accidentally fell into some form of oration, he usually stopped himself as soon as he realised it. Still, his father had a way of understatement that made the men under his command distinguish him from being just another officer but a soldier, whose ideas were those that they could identify. The general concerned himself with getting the job done, not the military niceties that had to be observed in the process.

Larabee knew nothing of his son's ruminations and continued. "However, at this time, we are not discussing ideology, we're talking about large scale terrorism. That much nitro has a purpose and with Hannibal Julius thinking he's a military genius, a fact my son can personally attest, he is accustomed to spilling a lot of blood to obtain a mission objective, innocent or not. Make no mistake, the secret buyer is Hannibal Julius and for that much nitro, we better take him seriously."

"He's right," Chris agreed, taking the nod by Larabee as permission to continue "In the war, Julius had the highest casualty rate of any field commander carrying the Union flag. He'd let his own men walk into a trap if it would win the day."

"How did you survive?" JD asked, fascinated by this aspect of Chris' past. While they all knew he had been in the army during the war, it was something that Chris did not like to discuss and always brushed aside the subject whenever it arose.

"We almost didn't," Buck answered for Chris knowing his old friend's distaste of talking about his tenure of military service. "Until the last battle, we lost a lot of men. When I joined the platoon, they were calling him a butcher. It was just before that last battle and crazy son of a bitch ordered us to charge the rebs...."

"Mr Wilmington," Ezra cleared his throat. "Another reference if you would please?" The southern replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sorry Ez," Buck winced remembering that Ezra would have most likely been one of those 'Rebs' during the war. "Well they would have killed us all if he had done what Julius told us to do, take the hill in a straight charge. Lucky for us, our lieutenant had a better idea." He glanced at Chris who allowed a slight curl at the corner of his lip to be seen as Chris recalled the start of his friendship with Buck Wilmington. "If wasn't for Chris, we would all be dead. Julius knew nothing about fighting a battle, all he knew how to do is direct people from the rear where it was safe. When he found out that Chris had taken the hill with a different plan, the bastard shot Chris in the back in front of all of the men. I swore they almost tore him to pieces for that."

"Its ancient history." Chris said quickly, not liking to talk about that incident, especially with the general present.

"Well," Larabee shrugged watching Chris' reaction very carefully. "It might be an idea to talk to the men you arrested."

"They said they don't know nothing." Vin took the lead gesturing towards the cells where most of them had been penned. "But that ain't saying much. I'm sure they know something they don't think is important but might be enough for us to get a bead on Bellison."

"Operation with that many men in these parts ain't exactly easy to hide." Chris agreed and then considered their options. "Vin, it might be an idea if you and me take a ride out to Purgatory tomorrow, see what the word is."

"Okay." The tracker nodded.

"The rest of you get out to Nettie's place at first light." Chris continued issuing orders, perfectly aware that his father was watching him closely and feeling extremely self conscious about it in the process. "I want that nitro watched round the clock, apologise to Nettie about imposing on her like this and tell her we're working on getting it off her property. Nathan, can you manage that with Alex out for the count?"

"She's too ornery to stay in bed," Nathan shrugged, knowing that the doctor had sense enough to know what is good for her even though she could be as stubborn as a mule. "She'll be up and around no matter what I say."

"You can bet your ass on that." Vin muttered under his breath.

"Markham you will accompany them," Larabee said to his adjutant, issuing a few orders of their own since a course of action was being decided upon and to his secret pride, quite effectively by his son. "I'll be going with my son."

Chris shot his father a look, clearly unhappy about that. "That ain't necessary." He said quickly.

"I must agree Sir...." Markham responded just as abruptly.

"This is not up for negotiation." The general stated firmly with an expression of pure steel in his eyes that made everyone flinch at seeing its immovable and impenetrable resolve.

Chris knew better than to argue with the man. "Fine." He said tautly, not relishing the idea but having no choice since circumstances had made it unavoidable and he was not about to shirk his responsibilities to Four Corners, just because he had personal problems. "We'll pick you wherever you're staying. Someone can point you at the local hotel." Saying nothing else, Chris walked out of the room, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from here as possible.

The general said nothing as he watched Chris leave so abruptly, aware that there was a great deal of tension that needed resolving but his son like him, was stubborn and there was much to say to each other after so many years apart. The awkwardness following Chris' departure was palpable and Vin took the lead in Chris' absence as it was his custom, although in the beginning he was the only one unaware of it.

"I'll take you to the hotel Sir, if you'd like." Vin volunteered since they would need to know where the man was staying if he intended to go with them to Purgatory the next day.

"We'd appreciate that." Larabee said quietly, showing no signs that Chris' actions had bothered him. "We've been riding all day to get here. We could use some sleep and a good meal." The general said taking of his hat and running his gloved hand through his thinning dark hair. "It's been a long day."

To that, no one could disagree.


Chris was almost home when he heard footsteps running after him. Without even needing to turn around and see who it was, Chris knew instinctively that it was without question, Buck. Vin would be smart enough to leave him alone but only Buck would have the nerve or the stubbornness for that matter, to confront him with this issue. Buck was like a personal demon that would never let him turn his back on such things even at the threat of death. He continued walking, not bothering to pause even though he knew he was being pursued and swore that if Buck said a word on this matter, he would shoot the man, friend or not.

"Goddamn Chris!" Buck finally reached him. "That man's your father! How can you just walk away like that?"

Chris froze in his steps and whirled around to face his oldest friend with a look of nothing less than pure warning. "Let it be. I don't want to talk about it." He growled in a low voice.

Buck let out an exasperated groan as he returned a look of pure disbelief at the man, unable to comprehend how a grown man could be so pig headed about things sometimes. "How come I ain't never heard you talk about your father?" Buck demanded, unable to deny that he was a little hurt by the lack of disclosure. After all, they had known each other for a lot of years. "The way you've been so closed mouth about it, I always figured he was dead or something." The accusation in his voice was unmistakable.

Chris' jaw tightened and he glared at Buck. "What part of 'I don't want to talk about it', do you not understand Buck?" He said through clenched teeth, smouldering with anger that Buck could not let this go. His tightly reined emotions were playing havoc with him now and as much as he tried to control them and crushed them ruthlessly with a will of iron, Chris found he was unable to establish that foothold right despite best efforts to regain his composure. He did not want to deal with this right now! It was bad enough seeing the man let alone trying to deal with his emotions on the matter with someone else.

"None of it, I guess." Buck retorted, unwilling to let Chris walk away without talking about it or at least explaining something about why the general had remained such a secret. Chris knew everything about Buck and until now, Buck thought he was the authority on Chris as well. "I mean, I've know you for a lot of years and you've never even spoken about him. Is what he did to you that bad?"

"It ain't about what he did!" Chris finally exploded, forcing the words out that he did not wish anyone to hear but it came forth from his lips in a torrent he could not stop. "It's about what I did!"

As Buck's expression evaporated into surprise, Chris felt silent, hoping that at last his old friend would get it into his head that he did not wish to talk about this at all. With that message delivered acutely, Chris continued towards the Clarion's front door, leaving left Buck behind him and hoping this time, Buck would have the sense not to follow him.


"How long has he been here?" Larabee asked the young man named Vin Tanner as they left the jailhouse and headed in the direction of the hotel. Vin had the feeling that general was more interested in Chris rather than directions to a good hotel and Vin told himself he was going to be very guarded about what he said about on any subject of inquiry regarding Chris. Markham had gone on ahead, perhaps suspecting that the general wanted some privacy in his deliberations with Vin.

"About three years." Vin answered, deciding that was information that the general could hear from anyone, so Vin would not be betraying any confidences by revealing it.

"I've tried to keep track of him over the years," Larabee explained, never meeting Vin in the eye as he asked. Instead those dark eyes were fixed on the road ahead and in that much at least, Vin saw the similarities between father and son. "I knew he lost his wife and boy but he seemed to fade away after that. Heard now and then that he had some kind of a reputation as a gunfighter."

"He ain't never killed anyone who didn't have it coming." Vin spoke up in Chris' defence. "He drifted here about the time I did and when the local judge offered us a dollar a day to keep the peace, it seemed like a good idea at the time to stay."

"And his new wife is from here?" The general did not want to compromise the young man's friendship with Chris but there was just so much that he did not know. Pride had kept him from seeking out the boy before this. Boy, Larabee snorted, wondering how he could refer to Chris that way. He was hardly a boy any more and yet the general could see him no other way.

"She owns the local paper." Once again, Vin volunteered information that Larabee could obtain from anyone. "Name's Mary."

"Good," Larabee said quietly and there was just enough hint in his voice to indicate that he was rather relieved that Chris had found someone. "You men been riding with him for long?" It was not impossible to miss the camaraderie that existed among the eclectic group of men that made up law enforcement in this town.

"Little under three years." Vin answered as they neared the establishment. There were questions Vin wanted to ask him but felt constrained by his friendship for doing so. "You don't mind me asking, when was the last time you saw Chris?"

Larabee knew exactly when. The date had been burned into memory for the last twenty years along with questions and debates as to what he might have done differently to change the way things were between them. "He would have been nineteen." Larabee answered. "He came home to Indiana from West Point, during the holidays. That was the last time I saw him."

"West Point." Even Vin knew what that was. "Chris went to West Point?"

The general seemed amused by the younger man's surprise and suddenly drew insight into why this tracker was his son's closest friend. There was much about Vin Tanner that reminded Larabee as it must have Chris about himself as a youth. Tanner had the same quiet, unassuming manner that the son he remembered had possessed. No doubt, Chris could see a great deal of himself in Vin.

"Yes." He nodded. "He was Academy for three years." Larabee answered, not wishing to divulge any more realising that Chris had kept much away from the people in his life, even though it was obvious that any one of them were willing to die for one another. That kind of loyalty did not come easily and Larabee was proud that his son had been able to inspire such devotion from the men he rode with.

Hearing Chris went to West Point did not really surprise Vin all that much. Chris always had an air of authority around him and the tracker knew he was well read as well as having a strange code of honour that was unusual for a man who lived by the gun. He supposed it made sense that all that would have come from somewhere. Suddenly, Vin found himself understanding Chris just a little bit better and wondered what could have driven father and son a part. For a military man, the general seemed like they had first described him, granite. However, there was also the same underlying empathy that Chris often surprised everyone around him by showing unexpectedly. Vin who made it a habit to observe people in the background, did not think that the general was as hard nose as first impressions might give.

"So what happened between you two?" Vin found himself asking, aware that he was probably going to get told to mind his own business but curiosity got the better of him.

However, the general surprised him by answering. "I don't know." He looked at Vin. "He had some trouble at the Academy and left. Last time I heard from him."

Vin wanted to question the man further on that point but did not broach the subject without sounding overly invasive and he was not in the habit of sticking his nose in other people's business, in particular Chris Larabee's. Thus he was almost grateful when they finally arrived at the Four Corners hotel where he was able to make a graceful habit without the temptation of quizzing the general more about his best friends origins. After all, it was clear that with so much silence between the two men, there was much between them that was unresolved.


Mary was at the sink washing dishes when Chris entered his house.

After everything that happened today, he had forgotten that he had been a total bastard to his wife the night before and conceded that it was time he stopped being foolish and made his apologies. Seeing his father today had taught him one thing, sometimes a man just had to face the music. She looked over her shoulder at him as she heard his footsteps in the kitchen, saying nothing as her blue gray eyes met his and returned to her chore before the sink.

Chris felt doubly guilty knowing that he had hurt her because he had seen her sadness in her eyes and felt it stab at his heart in sharp, acute potency. Taking a deep breath, he slid his arms around her and lowered his lips to her neck. Mary stiffened at his touch even though she had stopped what she was doing. He could sense that she was not at all moved by this gesture of tenderness and considering how he had behaved, Chris could hardly blame her.

"I'm sorry." He said softly in her ear. "I was behaved badly last night. I ain't got excuse for it. I guess it just got to me a little."

Mary did not speak for a moment but she did not push him away either as he held her. "Are you sorry we're having a baby Chris?" She asked softly, her voice was low and strained, as if she were hiding the emotion in her voice.

Chris was taken back by the question but then in light at his reaction to the simple mention of a nursery for their child, could understand why she would make the inquiry. "I'm not sorry." He replied and knew it was an honest answer. "I'm just a little scared of how it's going to change me. I've been living this life for the past few years of a rough and tumble gunslinger, I kind of forgot that I was once a father and a husband too. I love you and I love Billy and I love this baby that's all of us," he caressed her swelling abdomen. "And I had no cause to take it out on you because I was feeling badly."

Mary could never really stay mad at Chris for very long and knew his apology was in earnest. She leaned back into his embrace, a clear indication that her anger had faded and things were right between them. "You're such an idiot."

"Like you're always saying," Chris smiled faintly, showering her slender neck with light kisses. "I'm a man, you can't expect much better." He teased.

"That's right and don't you forget it." She joked. "Have you eaten?" Mary asked.

"Not yet," he answered, somewhat guilty that he had missed supper too.

"I'll fix you something." She said turning around and facing him. "Sit down." After months of marriage, Chris knew when one of her orders was not a request and complied after kissing her on the lips, just to show that he was not completely submissive.

"So what on earth was wrong with you last night?" Mary asked as she busied herself warming the dinner she had prepared for him earlier, in the event he came in to supper. "I haven't seen you that annoyed since that time you had to bail Ezra, Josiah and Buck from that jail in Jamestown."

"Don't remind me," Chris winced, recalling the incident where involving a card game, an argument over a saloon girl and too much alcohol. He found all three in jail with hangovers the size of the Grand Canyon and had to bail them out and smooth over with the sheriff of that town some charges of drunk and disorderly behaviour. "Yesterday wasn't as bad as today." He remarked, noting that she had cooked pie and felt his stomach leap with excitement over the prospect of the eating to come. Mary made the best pies.

"What happened today?" She glanced over her shoulder at him in concern, unable to imagine what could place him in an even worse mood than he was yesterday.

Chris supposed he should tell her. Word was going to get around quickly and if he thought Mary had let him off lightly for his jackassy behaviour last night, it was nothing in comparison with her fury if she learnt about his father from a source other than him. Clearing his throat, he let the words out and had no idea it could be so difficult just to make what should have been a simple revelation.

"My father just showed up in town."

Mary stopped what she was doing immediately and turned around. "Your father?" She looked at him in disbelief. "I thought you were raised by bears."

Chris gave her a look. "What is it with you and Buck?" He grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "Your father? I didn't know he was alive. You've never talked about him. Has he come here to see you?"

She fired about a dozen questions at him so quickly that Chris had no idea where one began and the other ended, however, he did manage to get a word in edge wise when she paused for a breath. "No he didn't come to town to see me." Chris replied and then went on to explain their experiences yesterday with Bellison and the nitro. Mary would have only been aware that Alex was injured through some form of misadventure but in general the nitro's existence was something of a secret.

"So it was just blind luck that he was the one the army sent?" Mary asked, having served him his food and sat down to hear more on this subject.

"More or less." Chris frowned, unable to believe how fate worked sometimes. He had spent the last twenty one years trying to avoid facing his father and had reached a point in his life where the guilt and the shame had subsided to tolerable levels, now with the general's return was also the regret at how he had conducted himself.

"So where is he?" Mary looked at him. "Did you invite him here to stay?"

"No!" Chris exclaimed horrified. "I don't want him here!"

"Chris?" Mary stared at him with nothing less than astonishment. "The man is your father. You haven't seen him in god only knows how long and you don't even invite to your home, to meet your family?'

"I can't face him." He declared uncomfortably.

"Its time that you did." She pointed out. "You can't run away from him forever."

"I'm not running." Chris protested, knowing in truth that he was. He had not stayed long enough to allow the general to make any inquiry about his life here and knew the reason for his apprehension tomorrow was partially because he did not wish to spend the whole day with his father, even if it was in the line of duty. As much as he wanted to find Bellison and Julius, Chris was willing to ignore the whole situation if it meant that he could ignore Marcus Larabee as well.

"Then invite him to dinner tomorrow night." She challenged. "You're his son and its only right that you do so unless you don't wish to face him."

"I don't," Chris muttered under his breath but knew she was probably right but he could not bring himself to do it. Chris picked at his food, feeling like a kid that was forced to do something he did not want to. Suddenly, Chris had a deeper understanding of what Billy endured when Mary required something of him the child did not wish to undertake.

"Chris." Mary stared at him reproachfully. "You can't avoid this forever."

"I can try." He said shortly and put enough tension behind his voice to indicate that he did not want to discuss it further. Unfortunately for him, Mary was not about to let the matter rest even if he was going to be pig headed about it. She could see it in his eyes that he wished things were different but typical male pride and the type that was not so generic but seemed specific to men whose names ended with Larabee, kept him from making the necessary conciliatory effort.

"Its up to you of course." She responded and rose from the table. "Well, I've got to go check on Alex. See how's she doing." Mary started to withdraw from the kitchen, glad that he did not look up at her as she tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

"Alright," Chris nodded, deep in thought at the valid points she had made about how he was handling this. "Don't be too long. It's getting pretty dark out there."

"I won't be." She smiled and hurried out the kitchen door, hoping that he would not be too mad at her for what she was about to do.


"You know," Ezra Standish said inside the confines of the Standish saloon, staring at the contents of the shot glass he was about to drink from, gathering his thoughts in the amber fluid that swirled within. "I always thought that Mr Larabee had some mysterious origins but I must say that even this has outdone my most fanciful imaginings on the subject."

"I gotta agree with you." Nathan admitted, glancing sheepishly at Rain who was frowning her disapproval that he had returned to the saloon, even though he should be studying hard for his coming medical exams. "I thought Chris might have been in the army but I can't picture his being from a rich family, let alone a rich military family."

"I can." JD replied, wondering how anyone else could not see it. Chris always carried himself with authority and men naturally looked to him for leadership, even his older companions who would rather believe that they were outcasts who had found their place in this odd fellowship. True as that might be, there was even more truth that it was Chris that bound them together. There was something about him that made people want to earn Chris Larabee's respect because it was quite something to win favour in the man's eyes. Chris appeared to have seen much in his lifetime and had no patience for fools so when he considered someone apart of his circle of friends, it was a privilege indeed. Having met the general though, explained a great deal about why Chris Larabee was the man he was.

"You would," Buck replied, deciding he would have one more drink for the road before he went home. "You'd have fun watching a rattlesnake just before he bit you." Buck was still in preponderance over Chris' words, trying to understand what the gunslinger might have done to have so much guilt. He had thought Sarah and Adam's death that been deep enough but this had the power to eclipse even that loss, mostly because on some level, Chris knew that the death of his wife and child was not his fault. However, the same could not be said about this. Buck knew Chris well enough to know that his old friend felt intensely guilty about the situation with his father although for the life of him, Buck could not imagine why.

Vin returned to the saloon at that moment, deciding to grab a quick drink and see if Rain was up to cooking him some dinner to take to Alex, when he noticed his friends congregating around their usual table in the saloon. No doubt discussing the events of the day or more precisely, General Larabee. The tracker went to Rain first and made his order for dinner before joining his friends as they speculated upon the surprise arrival of Chris' father.

"Is the good general tucked away at the hotel?" Buck asked.

"Yeah." Vin nodded, perfectly aware that Buck was dying to know if the general had said anything to him about Chris. "He is now."

"It's a damn shame that Chris is so pig headed about his father." Buck said attempting to prompt Vin into talking, a tactic that was not lost on the tracker or anyone else with an ounce of intelligence for that matter.

"Yeah." Vin nodded with a completely straight face, wise to what Buck was attempting to do and not prepared to reveal anything that had been discussed between him and the general since he was certain the man had not intended their exchange to be the subject of conversation.

"I believe Mr Wilmington is on a fishing expedition." Ezra replied.

"Thanks a lot Ezra," Buck fumed, giving the gambler a dark look. "I was trying to soften him up."

"I think we all were aware of that Buck." Josiah retorted. "You need a little more practise at being subtle." The preacher easing back into his chair and taking the head off his mug of beer.

"Alright then," Buck bristled. "I'm a little out of practise."

"You men you were actually subtle at some point?" Nathan joined in on the teasing. They were all firmly in Vin's corner at this point, believing that Chris' troubles with his father were his own and not for them to discuss so blithely or interfere in any attempt at reconciliation. When it came to Chris Larabee, old friend or not, that was the surest way to get something shot off and as Chris had put it so succinctly, it would probably be something that would not grow back.

"Come on Vin," Buck demanded. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that I want to repeat." Vin declared and decided that some ground rules needed to be placed before someone did or said something that was going to create more difficulty between father and son then there already was. "Buck, I'd stay out of this if I were you. It don't sound like neither Chris nor his dad need anyone helping them out."

"You don't know Chris," Buck protested. "He'll keep this inside and be as stubborn as a mule about it and before you know it, his dad will be gone and he'll just let him go without saying a word."

"Maybe we should let him be Buck," JD remarked believing that Chris Larabee was smart enough to make his own decisions without Buck interfering. JD could understand it when Buck felt the need to butt in when it came to him but not someone like Chris, who was old enough and in JD's opinion, smart enough to know whether he wanted help or not.

"Buck," Vin spoke up and used a tone of voice rarely heard but unable to ignore when he felt enough to impress it on people. "Let it go. You'll do more harm than good by trying to help because Chris has got to make the choice himself to set thing right between him and his pa, ain't no one can make it for him."

Buck frowned because he knew that Vin was right and seeing the faces around him nod in agreement, realised that they believed the same and so should he.

"Alright then," Buck conceded defeat. "I'll stay out of it but I'm telling you, Chris ain't gonna to anything if no one pushes him into it."

"Well I seriously doubt," Ezra drawled removing a deck of cards from inside his burgundy coloured coat. "Anyone with the possible exception of you Mr Wilmington, would be foolish enough to do that."


Once Mary arrived at the hotel, it did not take her long to find out what room the general and his attache was occupying. As she made her way into the dining room where the hotel clerk had told her he had seen Marcus Larabee and Colonel Markham adjourning to the restaurant for some dinner, she questioned what she was doing. Mary knew her husband and even though she saw it in his face that he hated the way things were between himself and his father, pride and twenty years of hesitation was keeping him from doing what he ought to in order to set things right. Loving a man like Chris Larabee was all about taking risks and as she allowed her eyes to search the dining room for a Union general it was not difficult to spot the father when she was in love with the son.

He did not at all look like Chris, being of stockier build and darker completion but the eyes were the same and the set of the jaw, particularly when determined would no doubt be identical. She approached the table, having no idea how to introduce herself and knowing that lack of knowledge regarding any subject had never stopped her from doing anything before. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the table and captured the general's interest who immediately rose to his feet as it was proper for officer and gentlemen alike to do so in the company of a lady.

"General Larabee," Mary said politely. "I am Mary, Chris' wife."

"I am pleased to meet you." He answered with a faint smile but genuine in its depth of feeling. Like Chris, it all showed in the eyes. "Join us."

He sounded so much like Chris it was uncanny and yet his voice was different but the tone and the manner were the same. Mary observed him with fascination, seeing her husband in his father's face but unable to place the exact nature of the similarities, knowing only that it was there.

"General," Markham rose to his feet. "I should be turning in. Mrs Larabee," he bowed politely in his direction, no doubt his sudden departure arising from his belief that they needed privacy to discuss family matters. "It was a pleasure."

Mary offered a polite response and waited until Markham had left before she turned her attention back to her father-in-law. "I came to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening." Mary said launching into the reason for her presence here.

"Really?" He raised a brow. "Does Christopher know about this invitation?"

"No." Mary answered. "But I'm sure he won't mind." Actually he was going to mind a lot, he was going to start minding the minute Mary went home and told him about it. However, she would face anything for Chris Larabee, even his wrath.

"I think you will find otherwise." He remarked, not wishing to cause any trouble between Chris and his wife. Although he did profess to like the spirited creature with the cascading gold hair who had captured his son's heart and obviously by her effect on his life, had allowed him to begin a new existence in this frontier town.

"Probably," she confessed with a smile. "But that's my problem not yours. It is my wish that you join your son, your step grandson and myself for dinner tomorrow. Can you attend?"

"He will be angry with you." Larabee pointed out.

"I can handle it." Mary declared firmly. "He's been mad at me before."

The general smiled and not a faint smile but a genuine smile of pleasure that told her that he would indeed appear at the Larabee household, if just to see how she would fare against Chris when she told him about this. "For your trouble, I'll be there."

"Good, then I'll expect you for supper tomorrow night then." Mary smiled and started to leave.

"You don't have to do this." Larabee spoke up, halting her progress away from his table.

"I want to," Mary looked at her father in law and dropped her hand to her belly. "I have a child coming into this world that would like to know its grandfather, I'm sure of it."

Larabee lowered his gaze long enough to nod slightly in understanding. "You're like his mother you know."

"Really?" Mary said with surprise because she knew almost nothing about Chris' family. It was not that he avoided the topic, it's just that he did not volunteer anything. Mary knew nothing about Chris' past before the war and she wondered now why she had not inquired. Perhaps, she suspected that there was something he could not speak of even though she had not imagined what it could be and with all the demons he had in his life, there seemed to be no reason to dredge up another when it was possible to avoid it. However, that had been wrong on her part because she was his wife and they had to be able to share everything together, even who they had been in the lifetime before Four Corners.

"She was stubborn too." He grinned.

"Well," Mary raised a brow and said with a straight face. "Like father, like son."

"My grandson," Larabee inquired. "He have a name?"

"Billy." She replied, happy that he had inquired after her son and indicated that he had taken to heart what she had said about wanting him to be apart of their family, no matter how adverse Chris was to this at the moment. "He's eight years old, gets into more trouble than I know what to do with." She laughed.

The general nodded slightly and for a moment, his eyes clouded over and went a far away place that was enigmatic as it was sad, Mary thought as she saw it surface visibly. "He has that mucin in common with Christopher then." Larabee said with a smile, perhaps trying to discern why things had gone so wrong with that child in the present of his adulthood.

"Billy would be thrilled to hear all about it." Mary answered and knew that to be the truth.

She just hoped Chris was as well.


Continued