Treading Softly
By Purple Lacey
Chapter 15
Ezra stepped from the SUV when motioned out by the hirsute hoodlum that pointed a rather large and nasty looking handgun at him. He stood quietly as the man's partner frisked him, relieving him of his gun and tucking it into the villain's own waistband. The thug found the decoy listening device that Buck had lightly taped in the center of his chest and removed it with a flick of his wrist. Ezra barely flinched as the tape pulled at his skin. Thankfully the man missed the real devices that resided in the top of the fountain pen he carried in his jacket pocket and behind his belt.
The man then gestured toward the house and Ezra turned and walked toward the front door. It opened as he approached to reveal another steroid-addicted brute. Ezra followed the man down a long hallway. The goon turned the knob and pushed the door open then gestured the undercover agent inside.
Ezra walked into the well- appointed room and paused a moment to take stock of his surroundings. The thug entered the room behind him and pushed the door closed, then stood with his hands folded behind him guarding what appeared to be the only exit from the room with the exception of the bank of leaded windows that ran along one wall.
“Come in Ezra,” Martin Fellowes' voice drew his gaze to the large maple desk that dominated the room. “Let me look at you.”
His first sight of the man that had abused him so badly as a young teen caused him to stand frozen as a kaleidoscope of remembered images and feelings engulfed him and tried to drag him back into the dark hole it had taken him over ten years to crawl from.
Fellowes sat at his desk watching him unblinkingly from behind steepled fingers. He was so still…so calm, but Ezra knew that apparent serenity was only a thin veneer over the core of violence that drove him and could explode in an instant. The uninitiated would probably look at the man and see only a successful businessman in his late fifties. His salt and pepper hair was cut conservatively as was the designer suit he wore with a natural-born elegance. His was an intelligent face, graced with a classic profile. It was only in those smoky gray eyes that one could glimpse the malevolence that leered out at the rest of the world.
Ezra didn't have to pretend the tremble that shook his voice as he answered, “Hello, Uncle Martin.”
“I SAID, come in, Ezra,” the older man repeated almost gently, but the slight emphasis on that one word made it crystal clear it was an order, not a suggestion.
Ezra's feet carried him forward without a conscious decision to move and he walked toward the desk until he was standing before it. Ezra threw back his shoulders to stand at attention in front of Fellowes before he even realized he was instinctively falling back into the behavior for which he had once been so brutally conditioned. To his dismay he found he was almost paralyzed with residual terror.
The corners of Fellowes' mouth lifted slightly in a sinisterly pleased smile as Ezra's posture plainly demonstrated the power it appeared he still wielded over his past victim.
“So, here we have Ezra Standish,” Fellowes drawled softly. “The boy all grown up. Now a man, hmm? I must admit I am surprised. Somehow I expected you to be much taller.”
Ezra's already stiff shoulder's tensed even more as he recognized the beginning moves in a once familiar game, the subtle insult being only the precursor of the humiliation Fellowes served up as skillfully a five star chef did a gourmet meal. Strangely enough, it was the insult that helped him get past the fear. It stirred up the burning resentment and anger that he had not been able to express as a brutalized thirteen year old.
“Nothing to respond, Ezra?” Fellowes taunted lightly with one eyebrow arched. “Or should I say Agent Standish?”
“Does it really matter?” Ezra replied with a shrug.
He consciously relaxed his stance, deliberately slipping one hand into his trouser pocket in a casual gesture he knew would annoy the older man. The small muscle that tensed in the other man's jaw at this action confirmed it.
“Your bitch of a mother must be completely mortified. The little fox she thought she was raising turned out to be a police dog in disguise. How ironic,” Martin mused sardonically.
“I'm sure she has recovered from the blow,” Ezra returned with dry sarcasm.
“Your lack of respect displeases me,” Fellowes said darkly and his eyes narrowed as he stared at the federal agent in front of him.
Ezra's face hardened and the edges of his mouth turned up in a smile that was more a baring of his teeth than an expression of amusement.
“I no longer care,” Ezra replied grimly. “As you have already pointed out, the boy you once knew is now grown. You'll find the cowering cur you used to brutalize so viciously has grown his own fangs…and is very well versed in using them.”
“Such bravado,” Martin chuckled meanly, “Trying so hard to project invulnerability…and yet your Achilles' heel is so plain to see.”
The older man reached out and pressed a button on the intercom and spoke one word.
“William.”
“Right away, sir,” replied a voice from the speaker in response.
Fellowes released the button and stared at Ezra once more.
“Do you know why I never had children, Ezra?” Martin asked mildly and raised an eyebrow in inquiry at the man standing on the other side of the desk. “I had opportunity, you know. My first wife wanted them. She was very insistent as a matter of fact…until she learned the penalties for such irritating behavior. Such an exquisite woman she was. Even in her casket she managed to outshine every other female in the room.”
Fellowes gazed steadily at Ezra and let the implication sink in before going on.
“My second wife was also not averse to procreating, although she took my rejection of the idea with élan. So you see, I had the chance to have offspring, but chose not to take it because I know what so many great men have found to their cost: children make a man less than he can be. They divert his focus from what is truly important. They sap his strength, make him sentimental. They make him vulnerable because they can be used against him if he is not careful. I refused to fall into that trap."
A knock on the door interrupted him and Ezra swung around in time to see the guard by the door step aside and open it long enough for a baby carrier to be passed through. The guard grasped the handle of the carrier with one hand and then closed the door again with the other.
Ezra took an instinctive step forward but jerked to a stop when the man pulled a pistol from a shoulder hostler and pointed it at the child in the carrier. Standish could only clench his fists in impotent rage. The hard look he threw the guard promised horrible consequences if the man actually hurt his son in any way.
Martin's man skirted around Ezra, careful to keep a watchful eye on him the whole time, and deposited the baby carrier on the desk in front of Fellowes. He took one step back but remained close enough to intervene if Ezra tried anything.
Ezra felt the breath catch in his throat as he looked on his son for the first time. The child looked incredibly tiny to the new father who had to blink several times to clear the tears that wanted to gather in his eyes. Downy wisps of hair in a strawberry brown shade covered the small head resting in sleep against the padding that lined the carrier. He had a little button of a nose and plump, faintly rosy cheeks that even in his relaxed state showed the promise of dimples. His tiny fists lay motionless on his chest and the anxious-eyed father gave a silent cry of relief as he watched the small chest rise and fall as Alexander breathed.
Ezra's hands actually tingled with the need to touch his newborn son. He wanted so badly to free the boy from his carrier and draw him close. The frustration he felt at not being allowed made him want to howl.
"Behold!" Martin pronounced. "Ezra Standish's Achilles heel."
Ezra schooled his features and turned to face his tormentor with a calm expression.
“I am going to take my son and leave now,” he told the older man, throwing a look of warning to the thug watching silently. “I would suggest you not interfere with that.”
Martin chuckled then said, “Do you really believe I would let you waltz in here and then out again just like that?”
“You are already aware that I am a Federal agent,” Ezra informed him with as much assurance as he could muster. “You must also know that others know where I am and who I am dealing with. I really do not think you want the kind of trouble that killing me or my son will bring down on your head.”
Martin stood up and leaned forward with his hands resting on the desk. His eyes flashed in fury as his voice whipped out, “You think you can scare me with the bugaboo of your federal agency, Ezra? I have no fear of any Fed! It would not be the first time I have had opportunity to send one to hell. I doubt very seriously that you would be the last.
Did you really think I didn't take everything into consideration when I arranged this meeting? I can produce a dozen people willing to testify that right now I am attending a business meeting downtown. It is an unassailable alibi in the unlikely event that I should need one.
I picked this location most carefully, as well. If you are waiting for your friends to come storming to your rescue then you will wait in vain. My men are patrolling the whole area. No one can enter these premises without being seen and at the first glimpse of an intruder they have orders to kill you, your brat, and anyone that tries to make it inside the gates. In the event it becomes necessary, while they are taking care of you and any invaders, I will simply slip away in the helicopter I have waiting behind this property. No one will ever know I was here.
No, Ezra, I do not believe you will be leaving here so soon. I have plans for you.”
Ezra listened to the man's confident assessment of the situation and fought back his fear, fear not for himself but for Alexander. It was only his many years of undercover work that allowed him to keep projecting his air of unconcern as his mind raced.
Ezra had been only too aware of the difficulty that getting in to the compound unseen would hold for his friends. He knew his only hope was in Vin. Vin had told him just that morning how good he was at disappearing in any situation. In actual truth, Ezra was an amateur compared to the ex-Ranger. Vin was like smoke when he wanted to be. Ezra was gambling everything on Vin's abilities. He would try to stall for time, and protect Alexander until the cavalry arrived.
“Did you research my friends as I suggested, Martin?” he asked with hard confidence. “If you did, then you must realize that they will not meekly allow you to get away with that so easily. As I told you before, they are relentless. They will keep dogging your steps until you stumble, and then they will pounce and go for your throat. You will never be free of them, Martin. Everyday you will look over your shoulder and see one of them. You will have no respite. They will show no compassion, no mercy. A fitting end to someone who himself showed none.”
“So much faith,” Martin replied with scorn “So misguided. Go on believing that if you want to. The truth is you are helpless in my hands, just as you were fifteen years ago. In time, you will come to accept that…just as you did then.”
“I think not,” Ezra returned staunchly.
“I will enjoy refreshing your memory,” Fellowes said with an awful smile.
Alexander picked that moment to stir. His little fists began waving in the jerking, uncontrolled way of newborns. His little mouth opened and closed a few times then opened once again to release a thin cry that escalated in volume as it continued.
Martin cast an annoyed glance at the baby then looked back up at Ezra.
“Take care of that,” Martin warned Ezra, “Unless you want me to have Jude there take care of it for you.”
Ezra did not have to be told twice. He reached eager hands for the safety straps holding the child in place but was stopped when Martin's voice whipped out, “No! It stays in there.”
Ezra threw a heated glare at the older man but the henchman that Martin had called Jude stepped forward threateningly and waved his gun. Ezra reluctantly followed Fellowes' orders and did not attempt to take Alexander out of the carrier. He was reduced to patting the child on the stomach with one hand while stroking the downy head with the other. He bent low over the child and murmured soothing tones but Alexander was having none of it and continued to cry.
Jude spoke for the first time saying, “Maybe he's hungry.”
It was then that Ezra noticed the small glass bottle of formula that was tucked into the carrier with the baby. He reached for the bottle slowly. He picked it up and removed the cap covering the rubber nipple. He started to give it to Alexander but paused.
For the rest of his life he would never be able to put his finger on just what caused him to do what he did next. Perhaps it was the way the man, who had been totally silent up until that point, had spoken up when he did--like an actor saying his lines on cue. Perhaps it was the flash of evil anticipation that he glimpsed in Martin's eyes for one fraction of a second. Perhaps it was the instincts well-honed over his years of undercover work. He would never know, but something alerted him to the wrongness of the situation.
As he moved it toward the screaming baby, Ezra tipped the bottle over the hand he had on Alexander’s chest and let a single drop spill onto his own skin. He immediately felt that skin start to burn and he watched in horror as it turned red and a blister began to form almost immediately. A cold fury like nothing he had ever felt before swept over him as he realized just what kind of torture Martin had orchestrated for him. With a master's instincts, Fellowes had zeroed in on the one thing that would haunt him to his grave, that would drive him completely insane: taking his son's life with his own hand.
The animal inside Ezra that had been so close to the surface since Alexander's kidnapping finally broke his chains.
In the space of a single heartbeat, Ezra spun on one heel and smashed the glass bottle into Jude's face. The glass shattered against the bridge of the man's nose. The unknown corrosive agent mixed with the formula immediately began eating at the exposed flesh. The man dropped his gun to clutch at his eyes and began to scream in agony. Ezra wasted no time in aiming a kick to the side of the his head, knocking him out instantly. Jude dropped to the floor like a stone.
Ezra whirled around to find Martin just starting to react to this unexpected situation. Ezra placed both hands on the desk and vaulted over it, launching himself over it feet first. He smashed into the older man, his momentum forcing Fellowes into the wall behind the desk with bone-jarring power. Ezra never gave the man time to recover from the stunning impact as he began to rain blow after fury-empowered blow to the man's face and torso. Fifteen years of suppressed rage and twenty four hours of a father's fear drove Ezra as his relentless fists gave voice to all he had gone through because of this man.
“He's…only…a…baby! “ Ezra punctuated each word with a blow. “How could you try to do that to him! How could you do what you did to me! You are a monster. A MONSTER. I hate you! I hate you!”
Time ceased for Ezra. For the moment his world was the feel of his fists driving into his enemy's flesh, the tiny grunts of pain the now nearly unconscious man gave each time Ezra landed a blow, and the blood that flowed from the many cuts on the once elegant face. He never felt the tears that streaked down his own face as he purged his soul of the repressed emotions that had haunted him for years.
When hands reached to pull him off Fellowes he fought them. It was quite awhile before the voices of his teammates began to filter through the rage that ruled him and he ceased to struggle.
“Ezra! It's over,” Chris' voice finally registered. Ezra looked in puzzlement at the man holding one of his arms and Chris repeated gently, “It's over.”
While Vin and Josiah had dispatched the remaining men outside, Chris, Buck, JD, and Nathan had stormed the backdoor. They had met only minimal resistance, one gunman in the kitchen and one in the hall, and the men had been subdued quickly. One had sustained a gunshot wound to the shoulder and the other had taken a graze along the side. Nathan had given each a once over and some quick first aid as his teammates had cuffed them. They had been joined by Vin and Josiah who had helped to secure the rest of the premises. As fast as they could they had entered the back room to find a gunman unconscious on the floor, Alexander in a carrier screaming his head off, and their friend holding another man against the wall as he relentlessly pummeled him.
Vin released his grasp on Ezra's other arm when the undercover agent came back to himself. He laid his hand on Ezra's shoulder and squeezed.
“You beat him, Ez. He didn't win this time. This time you beat him, but good. Maybe you can let it go now,” Vin said softly.
Ezra looked around and found most of his friends surrounding him.
“Sorry we took so long to get here,” Buck said with a small grin that belied the worry he had suffered for his friend, “But it looks like you had everything under control.”
Ezra was still too shaken to respond. The others seemed to understand and didn't push it. As he finally re-oriented himself, Ezra's thoughts naturally enough turned to Alexander and he pushed his way through his friends to hasten to where Alexander's carrier still sat on the desk. Nathan was bending over the screaming child examining him, but straightened up as Ezra rushed over. The rest of their teammates followed more slowly.
“He looks fine, Ez,” Nathan tried to assure him. “But we should take him to the hospital to let them run some tests just to be safe.”
For once Ezra didn't argue with Nathan about a proposed trip to the hospital. Nathan stepped away as the new father reached for his son. Ezra hurriedly unfastened the straps of the carrier then slipped his hands under Alexander to lift him out. Nathan looked at him curiously as he froze.
“Ez? Something wrong?”
Ezra drew in a deep, wavering breath as he turned his head to look on the large black man with sudden fear.
“How could I be so careless, so stupid,” Ezra whispered. “I know him. I know the way he thinks. He has a reason for every action, every word spoken. Why didn't I pay attention to that? I should have remembered how incredibly vindictive he is, and how he always has a backup plan. It would have appealed to his sick sense of humor.”
“What are you talking about, Ez?” Vin asked as he stepped up beside his still friend.
“I think he has booby trapped Alexander's carrier,” Ezra replied in a shaking voice. “I should have realized when he refused to allow me to remove him from the carrier before that there was another reason behind his orders than just to torment me. He was making sure the ultimate victory would be his no matter what else happened! Oh, God! Alexander!”
It seemed his nightmare was not yet over.
“Calm down, Ezra,” Chris snapped. “Now tell me why you think he's rigged the carrier.”
“I felt something move when I put my hands under Alexander. I believe I triggered a switch,” Standish replied and he strove to regain his control.
“Josiah?” Chris said tensely.
“I'm on it,” Josiah replied without waiting for further orders.
The older agent pulled the canvas backpack he wore off his back and rummaged inside. He pulled a long, slender device from it and held it out to his leader. Chris took the fiber optic viewer from Josiah and carefully inserted the slim end into the carrier next to one of Ezra's hands. The entire team waited anxiously.
“Looks like a chunk of something that could be C4 hooked to a pressure switch. No timer, no receiver,” Chris relayed. He took his eye from the eyepiece to smile reassuringly at the anxious father. “No problem,” he said confidently, hiding his own worry from the others. “Man should have remembered he was dealing with the ATF. Bombs are our business.”
As tension filled minutes passed, Chris and Buck worked together to disarm the bomb. Ezra tried to remain as still as he could but he had a hard time restraining Alexander's squirming as the baby let his unhappiness with his current situation be known. He was wet and he was hungry and he wanted everyone to know it.
“Soon, dear one. I promise you,” Ezra crooned to the child. “Daddy will see to you soon. Daddy will make it all better.”
“Damn!” Buck bit out at one point when Alexander wiggled at the wrong time and almost managed to trigger the bomb. Chris didn’t say anything but his face got grimmer and a thin film of perspiration broke out on his forehead.
JD unconsciously tried to take a step closer but Vin put an arm across his chest to hold him back. “Let them work, JD,” Vin whispered. The young agent looked at him worriedly but nodded. Vin dropped his arm.
“I just feel like I should be doing something,” JD whispered back.
Vin nodded with understanding but his eyes never left the unfolding drama in front of them. Not able to stand round doing nothing anymore, JD slipped away to check on their prisoners in the kitchen.
Buck, trying to keep his friend distracted, asked, “So what did you do to that guy on the floor over there, Ez? I followed your conversation along pretty well, but I have no idea how you managed to get the jump on both these guys.”
Ezra obliged him by giving him a run down of everything that has transpired. The faces of his teammates grew grimmer when he got to the part on the caustic baby formula.
“I say when you guys get Alex out of there we strap that thing on Fellowes’ and re-arm it,” Vin suggested with awesome malevolence.
“That’s too quick and too easy for him,” Nathan ground out through his own rage. “He needs to suffer for a long, long time. The bomb was bad enough, but poisoning a baby’s bottle like that…”
Nathan shook his head as horrible visions of what could have been kept running through his head. Nathan glanced down at the hired gunman and had to restrain himself from jerking the unconscious man to his feet and extracting a little physical vengeance. From the way Ezra described the incident, this man had to have known what his boss had planned. Nathan looked at the red, chemically burned flesh on the man’s face and for once found no compassion in himself. The piece of garbage could wait until the city paramedics arrived, he decided, not only because he deserved to suffer, but because Nathan didn’t trust himself enough to attempt it. The urge to inflict further injury was too strong. That went double for Fellowes.
Josiah stood a little apart from the others not wanting to get in the way of the two men working carefully to disarm the bomb. He was the closest one to Fellowes when the man started moaning softly and appeared to be regaining consciousness. The team’s profiler stood looking down at the man for a moment before reaching into his back pocket for his handcuffs. Josiah brought Fellowes’ hands behind is back and cuffed him. If he was a little bit rougher than normal then he figured the man should still count himself lucky because what he really wanted to do was rip both arms off completely and feed them to the bastard that had abused his friend so badly and threatened a helpless baby.
If there was any justice in the world, Fellowes would spend the rest of his days in jail having his fellow inmates dish out the same kind of abuse to him. Josiah squatted beside the man and listened dispassionately as Fellowes whined and groaned in pain. His attention was diverted when Buck gave a relieved sigh and he and Chris seemed to relax.
Chris pulled his hands from the baby carrier and said, “It’s safe now, Ez.”
Ezra didn’t hesitate but pulled Alexander out of the carrier as quickly as he could without harming him. He pulled the baby close and cradled him in arms that had to fight to keep from holding too tight. Ezra’s only thought was to get Alexander out of the vicinity as fast as possible so he spun around and headed out of the house.
Chris looked at Buck and jerked his head after their fleeing undercover agent and Buck nodded in acknowledgement and followed Ezra. The other men in the room remained to start the clean up. While Chris and Vin left to check on their other prisoners, Nathan pulled out his cell phone to call 911 to alert the locals to the situation and get ambulances sent for the injured. Josiah kept watch on Fellowes and the other unconscious man.
Ezra kept going until he reached the SUV where he pulled open the back passenger door and climbed in. He was sitting there trying to sooth the very angry baby when Buck slipped onto the other end of the bench seat. Buck leaned over enough to stare into the scrunched up, red face of the child.
“Sure does got a good set of lungs on him,” Buck grinned. “My mama always said that was a good sign that they’re healthy.”
The words barely registered as Ezra was enraptured by the infant he held in his arms. Buck watched in fond amusement as the other man unwrapped the tiny receiving blanket and counted fingers and toes.
“You are so perfect,” Ezra cooed in proud delight to the baby. “You have to be the most perfect baby that has ever been. Look at those fingers, so long and strong. Those are the fingers of a concert pianist.”
Unimpressed with Ezra’s thoughts on his future career potential, Alexander continued to wail.
“I know, baby,” Ezra said, rocking gently side to side in an attempt to soothe him. “Daddy knows. That mean old man won’t get the chance to hurt you anymore. Daddy took care of it. We’ll see about getting you a nice dry diaper and something to eat right away. Daddy will take care of you.”
Ezra looked up as a knock sounded on the window by his elbow and he found JD gazing at him from the other side. The young agent held up a canvas bag with a proud grin, and then he reached for the handle of the car door and opened it.
“Look what I found!” JD told him eagerly. “I figured the odds were fifty/fifty that whoever brought him here would also have brought along a diaper bag or other supplies for him. I went looking and found this in one of the bedrooms. I don’t know what all the stuff in here is for but even I can recognize a diaper when I see one.”
JD grinned widely, very pleased with himself. He reached down deep into the loaded bag and rummaged as he said, “There’s also a couple of cans of milk or whatever they call it down in the bottom there. And an empty bottle. From the sound of it, our boy could use it, Ez.”
Ezra watched as JD pulled out the aforementioned items and tried to hand them to him. Ezra stared at them in indecision. JD, of course, was confused not having been in the room when Ezra had described the poisoned formula he had almost given to Alexander.
“Did I do something wrong, Ez?” JD hesitantly asked.
“Nah, JD,” Buck hurried to assure him, “It’s just he don’t know if he can trust anything that comes from that house. You missed hearing what that rat bastard tried to do to little Alex.”
JD could only listen in growing fury while Buck explained what had occurred.
JD exclaimed at the end of the recitation, “I hope he burns in hell for all eternity! I hope they skin him alive, roll him in salt, and THEN burn him in Hell forever. How he could try to do that to a baby? I just can’t understand it.”
The young agent looked at his friend with a fallen face, the excitement and pride he had just felt for finding the supplies turning to dismay and regret in an instant. He made to step back from the vehicle as he said, “I’m sorry, Ezra. I’ll take it away.”
“Perhaps the diaper?” Ezra suggested, not only because Alexander really needed a changing but to show JD how much he valued the man’s thoughtfulness in hunting down the needed items in the first place.
JD perked up and handed the tiny item to his friend. As sirens began to be heard in the distance, Ezra Standish changed his first diaper under the watchful eyes of his two friends, and Alexander began the bonding process with all of them.
Epilogue
“He’ll see you now,” the pleasant voice of the receptionist pulled Ezra from his favorite pastime – namely, watching his son.
Ezra glanced up and smiled at the motherly woman who was watching him interact with the baby he held in his arms with the kind of benevolent indulgence that he had become so familiar with since becoming a father. He still found it rather amazing how often that look appeared on the faces of total strangers when they looked on his infant son. It was just one of those things he noticed now that he had donned the mantle of fatherhood.
“Thank you, dear lady,” Ezra told her as he stood up from the plush sofa cushions and reached down again to hoist the twenty-or-so pound canvas rucksack that constituted Alexander’s well equipped diaper bag on to his shoulder before turning to follow the woman down the long hallway. He had a perfectly good baby carrier that he could have used to carry Alexander around in but he had developed something of a phobia against using it. He much preferred holding the child close in his arms.
Ezra had been back in Denver for five days. Although he had made sojourns to the pediatrician and the grocery store and one visit to the ATF offices where he showed off his wonderful new son with glowing pride, he had spent most of that time holed up in his home adjusting to the new demands on his time and love that came with the tiny, beloved person that was his son. He was content with the new agenda, but he had woken up that morning knowing there was something that he needed to do, words that needed to be spoken. So after their morning routine of bottle and bath, Ezra had dressed Alexander warmly, and bundled him up to go out. He had walked into the spacious halls of this office building determined to accomplish his goal.
The woman smiled at him one final time and reached out to stroke a finger down one of Alexander’s velvet soft cheeks before she opened a large walnut door and stepped back to allow him to enter.
“That one is a charmer, alright,” she said with a wink then she closed the door behind her leaving the pair in the large well appointed office.
The man approaching him across what seemed to be half a mile of plush carpeting was smiling with ‘the look’ as well, Ezra noticed with amusement.
“Mr. Standish. This is a surprise. Please come in,” the tall blond man said as he gestured to the couch set along one wall.
“I hope I am not interrupting your work day too much, Mr. Dawson,” Ezra told him seriously, “but I wanted to come by and thank you personally for all you have done for myself and my son, and introduce my son to his most generous benefactor.
I have no words to tell you how grateful I am. Without your assistance, I do not know if we would have ever gotten Alexander back. It was only because we were able to move so quickly that we were able to accomplish it. We would not have been able to do that if you had not lent us your plane. I owe you my son’s life.”
The other man waved away the thanks as he sat in one of the chairs that sat across from the couch.
“You’ve got that backward, Mr. Standish,” Roger Dawson corrected him. “I was only repaying a debt. You and your friends risked your lives to save my son. I owed you far more than a ride in an airplane and a place to stay for awhile. I still do.”
It was Ezra’s turn to wave the words away.
“I believe all debts are paid in full,” Ezra told him. “A son for a son. They cancel out."
Roger Dawson laughed and replied, “As you wish, but I would still like you to know the jet is always available should you ever need it. You and your teammates do a lot of good for a lot of people. I would like to continue to play a small part in that if you would allow me to do so. You never know when someone else’s son will need saving.” His eyes stared into Ezra’s with quiet sincerity.
Those blue eyes began to twinkle as he continued, saying, “And the offer is not just open for business use, either. I’m sure you and your associates occasionally need to get way from the stress of your jobs, and they do say that travel is a very good way to broaden a child’s horizons, don’t they? I’m sure your son would benefit from a few trips for cultural purposes…like to, oh say, Disneyworld.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Ezra assured him with a laugh.
The new father rose and held out his hand to Dawson. The two men shook then Ezra hefted the diaper bag onto his shoulder once again before saying, “We will let you get back to your work. Once again, thank you.”
“You take care of that boy now,” Dawson called out to him as he slipped through the office doors.
“You may count on it,” Ezra replied with a smile.
It was later that evening, when the team had gathered at Ezra’s place like they had every evening since returning from Houston, that Buck went looking for the undercover agent. Ezra had left the den to put Alexander in his crib twenty minutes ago and had yet to return. Buck didn’t really think anything was wrong but felt the need to check any way so he had left the others to make his way quietly up the stairs and down the hall to the nursery.
He found his missing friend standing by Alexander’s crib, arms resting on the top rail lightly, head tilted slightly to the side as he stared in rapt fascination at the sleeping baby. Buck approached and laid a light hand on his shoulder. He stood looking down at the child too.
“Everything okay, Ez?” he whispered so as not to wake Alex.
“Everything is perfect, Buck,” the man answered warmly. “It is all just perfect.”
Buck looked at the man standing at his side radiating love and contentment and couldn’t help comparing him to the despondent one that had tried to drown his sorrows in a bottle of bourbon less than a year ago.
“Did I ever thank you properly for coming to me that night?” Ezra asked, never looking away from his son. “Seeing Alexander now…when I hold him close…I know I have been granted my heart’s desire. I am still in awe of that. And I know I owe all of it to you, my friend. Somehow I do not feel as if I can ever thank you enough.”
Buck squeezed Ezra’s shoulder and replied, “Just seeing the two of you together and happy is all the thanks I’ll ever need, Pard.”
“Somehow that just does not seem to be enough for so great a gift as the one you have given me, Buck,” Ezra answered sincerely. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you."
Buck used his grip on Ezra’s shoulder to give him a little shake then said, “Family, remember? You don’t have to repay family. That’s what family is, what it does. If you’re happy, if Alex is happy, then I’M happy. Got it?”
Ezra finally looked over at his friend and smiled, “Yes. I believe I do.”
”Good. It took you long enough to figure that out,” Buck said then as a cheeky grin broke over his handsome face continued with, “But you know, if you really wanted to say thank you again you could do it by saying I’ve got first dibs on Alex when he wakes up again. Just once I’d like to hold him without having to fight off that bunch of rowdies out in the living room.”
Amused, Ezra laughed softly and nodded.
Outside the wind picked up, whipping the clouds around to let the twinkling stars play hide and seek. Inside where it was warm and snug, two men stood side by side at a wooden crib and watched a miracle as it slept.
The End