Part 4

JD looked up as Nathan approached him. "I'm fine," he insisted before Jackson could even ask. "How's Ezra?"

"He's hanging in there. Let me check those ribs."

"They're okay." JD sat forward and slipped the blanket Buck had gotten him off his shoulders. Buck had gone upstairs to get the computer and back up equipment.

Nathan made a sound similar to a snort as he assessed the bruising. "What happened?"

"Taymullah flipped me and I bounced off that thing." JD motioned to the low partition.

"That was after they tossed you down the stairs?"

"They didn't toss me," JD protested. "I just missed a step."

"Uh huh." Nathan tilted Dunne's head up to look at his neck. "Throat hurt at all?"

"A little, not bad though."

Nathan's fingers skated across the reddened skin and then moved up to the cut above JD's eye. It was taped already. "Josiah or Buck?" he asked.

JD grinned. "Josiah…and Buck; you'd think between the two of them they'd know how to put on a band-aid."

"Heard that." Buck sounded through the communication unit right before he reentered the cabin. "Got all your toys." He winked, holding up the computer.

"Yeah right." Dunne rolled his eyes and flinched as Nathan examined the bruising on his temple. "I think he tried to shove it through my skull," he muttered.

Nathan smiled. "You dizzy at all?"

"Not much."

"Alright, sit there and relax. You're banged up good, but I think you avoided breaking those." He gestured toward JD's ribs. "We'll get you x-rayed when we land."

"We're going to Cork, Nathan," Chris filled in from upstairs.

"Ireland?" Nathan questioned.

"Affirmative." Upstairs in the cockpit, Chris sat in the empty seat behind the pilot as he waited for more information from Captain Barnes.

"How long, Chris?" Nathan asked.

"Estimated arrival in thirty minutes. Ezra going to be okay?" Chris leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees.

"He's pretty shocky," Nathan answered. "So far so good, but any delays and we're starting to really push it."

Chris ran his long fingers through his hair and sat up straight again. He watched as the pilot and co-pilot interacted, each man doing his own tasks and yet working together as one unit. If Travis had wanted to test Team 7's ability to do the same, he'd certainly picked the right flight to assign them to, Chris thought. If it hadn't been for that NSA agent, they might have gotten through this whole incident with only scrapes and bruises. Though that wasn't a guarantee, he was furious the more he thought of Rogers. He wanted to pound the man for endangering JD and Ezra the way he had.

"Agent Larabee?"

Chris looked at the Captain. "Yes, Sir?"

"Emergency crews will be waiting for us on the ground. We're trying to get in touch with someone in Emergency at Mercy hospital so we can let them know what's coming their way."

"I'll need the number as soon as you have it. Nathan can call him on our NavTalk."

He only had to wait a couple of moments before the Captain was turning to him again. Chris pulled a mini notebook from his jacket pocket and unclipped the pen from the spiral binding. He repeated the number once to double check and then informed the pilots that he'd be downstairs if they needed him.

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Nathan carefully applied a butterfly bandage to the woman passenger's cheek, trying to soothe her as he took care of her. She had been lucid enough to communicate when the flight attendants had first brought her forward, but now, as she faded in and out of consciousness, she merely whimpered occasionally.

"You're doing a good job here, Nathan." Josiah smiled when Nathan looked up from his task with surprise. "I know it's all coming at you at once, wanted you to know you're handling it well." He gave a small sheepish shrug when Buck looked over at the two of them and grinned.

The remaining corrugated doors leading to the business section suddenly opened and the flight attendant, Julie entered. She stopped short at the expressions that greeted her.

"You should probably give us a warning knock before you come in," Josiah explained as he casually tucked his weapon back into its holster and saw Vin doing the same.

Julie had the decency to look embarrassed instead of offended. "I should have known." She nodded. "I need someone's help," she explained.

"What's the problem?" Chris' sudden presence startled her. He caught her by the elbow as she jumped away from him, losing her balance slightly.

"Sorry."

"No problem, I'm just a little jumpy." She paused to catch her breath. "I have a young girl who is quite upset. I believe Ms. Lewis is her mother." Julie's voice trailed off as she looked down at the injured woman.

"I'll come talk to her." Josiah moved forward. "Do you want me to bring her in here?" he asked Chris.

"Already crowded." Chris scanned the area. Vin knelt in the aisle beside Ezra, at the front of the cabin. Two rows behind them, Nathan worked on Ms. Lewis, while everyone else was on the other side of the cabin. "Bring her in for awhile, but take her back to her own seat for landing," he ordered. "Buck, do a walk through. Nathan, here's the number for the ER where Ezra will be transferred." He handed the notebook to Jackson. "JD will get you the phone."

Buck stood and flicked JD lightly behind the ear, then moved over to Vin and Ezra. He nodded to Vin and watched as Ezra's eyes wearily followed him. "Hey," he smiled, suddenly lost as to what to say. "How're you doing, partner?" Ezra's reply was muffled by the oxygen mask, so Buck just patted his knee. "I need to do a walk through, but I'll be right back so you hang in there." Quickly he moved toward the back of the cabin, his eyes meeting Chris' for just a moment before he stepped into the business section. A shiver ran through him, his thoughts thrown back in time for a second, when he recognized the look in his friend's eyes. Resolutely, Buck pushed that nightmare into the background and focused on the job at hand.

A walk through would give them a visual on how the passengers and flight crew were doing during this initial aftermath and make sure no one else was causing trouble. Buck put on what he hoped was a serious and not too intimidating expression as he made his way down the narrow aisle of the plane. Most passengers were talking quietly, voices hushed and eyes wide with shock. A few were crying and a few others seemed completely unaffected by the earlier events.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Thank you for your continued patience as we get things cleared up." Captain Barnes' voice came over the intercom system. "We're being rerouted to Cork, Ireland where, once the injured have been taken care of, we will have you disembark from the aircraft by rows. There will be officials waiting at the airport to assist you, and direct you as to where to go and what will be happening next. We should be landing in Cork in approximately 20 minutes."

Buck watched the varied reactions of the passengers closest to him as he made his way to the back of the plane. Several people stopped him to ask questions about what would be happening after they landed, but he quickly reassured them that they would be well taken care of by those waiting for them.

At the back of the plane he turned around and started up the opposite aisle. Over his earpiece he could hear Josiah explaining to the little girl, whose name happened to be Jenny, that her mother was going to be fine and soon they would go to the hospital where some doctors and nurses would look after both of them.

Nathan's voice cut through sharply with a small curse. "Damn it, what good is this phone anyway?"

Buck frowned. Must be Jackson was having trouble getting through to the hospital in Cork. He could hear Vin murmuring to Ezra and hoped that Nathan remembered that Ezra could still hear everything he said.

Suddenly, Buck realized he was almost to his original seat, and there stood Korine. She waited, arms crossed in front of her, standing just far enough into the aisle to block his path. "So are you going to tell me who you actually are now?" She asked in a low voice. She motioned for him to sit down but he shook his head no.

"Told you." He couldn't help but grin. "I'm Buck."

Korine huffed and gave her hair a flip behind her shoulder. "Well, you sure as hell aren't a video game developer. What'd the pilot call you? A federal agent of some sort?"

"Of a sort, yeah."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Korine's dark eyes narrowed.

Buck sighed. "I'm a Federal Air Marshal."

"And," Korine motioned for him to continue.

"And…basically I'm a professional airline passenger."

"Come on! This is what you do? Really? You fly around and occasionally save a flight from a takeover by raving militant lunatics…by shooting them dead, no less?"

He thought a moment. "Well, when you put it that way…yeah." He suppressed the urge to laugh at her stunned expression, instead putting his hands on her shoulders and gently steering her out of the aisle as he whispered. "You should really stay in your seat, darling."

"Wait!" Korine grabbed his sleeve as he started down the aisle again. "I want a story."

Buck shook his head. "Sorry, Korine. If I could give you a story, I would, but it ain't gonna happen. Go enjoy your pyramids." Pulling away, he moved up the aisle, ignoring her frustrated sigh as she flopped back down in her seat.

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Nathan paced the tiny cabin anxiously. Two steps one direction, spin and two steps the other way. Back and forth while he waited impatiently to reach the hospital. He'd tried the number Chris had given him twice already just to not get a signal through with the GPS phone.

"Damn it," he swore again and spun around again in time to see Ezra jerk awake.

"Easy," Vin spoke immediately, attempting to settle Standish as he groaned and tried to reach for the oxygen mask. "Leave it on, Ez." Tanner caught the grasping hand and set it back on Ezra's chest, his grip still strong on the other hand.

"Coming in," Buck warned right before he entered the cabin. "They're okay back there," he told Chris.

"Nice job with the reporter," JD told him.

"Hello, this is Nathan Jackson on board flight 1412, who am I speaking with?" Nathan's greeting had all five agents turning to look at him. "Yes sir, Dr. McIntyre, this is what I have," Nathan spoke rapidly spilling details to the doctor about Ezra's condition.

Chris moved forward and squatted beside JD's seat. "Go ahead and turn the wires off. We're all in here and Nathan doesn't need our chit chat distracting him while he fills in the doc."

JD nodded and quickly keyed the right commands into the computer. Within seconds, each agent felt the soft deadening of sound as his earpiece turned off.

Nathan barely caught the change as he rattled off Ezra's vitals, the location of the wounds and his observations about them. Carefully he described what he had already done to care for Standish and listened as the doctor affirmed that they'd be ready for Ezra and the others at the hospital.

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Ezra wanted to scream with frustration. The pain in his side was intense and he wanted the world to fade away so that he would feel nothing. His heart was racing and he fought to suppress a groan as a shiver shook his body. Couldn't anyone tell that he was freezing? And God, if he could just have a drink, he needed a drink. The ice chip Josiah had spooned into his mouth earlier had done nothing to quench his thirst.

Blinking his watery eyes, he strained to hear what was going on around him. The constant buzz of voices had been his anchor so far, keeping him aware of what was happening around him and now…it hit him then; he couldn't hear anyone. The voices were gone. Was he alone? Panicking he struggled as his breathing quickened. The pain sharpening as he began to move around. He had to get up, to see what was going on. Where was his team? The oxygen mask felt heavy and he tried to reach for it, needing to be free of its claustrophobic presence. He needed to move; if he just laid here he would die. He didn't want to die. He needed to move.

Vin sat with his head leaning back against the side of Ezra's seat. He was tired, and he was worried about Ezra. The Southerner had been drifting in and out of sleep but seemed to be growing more restless. He knew that they would be landing soon, and though Nathan seemed confidant that Ezra was going to be fine, Vin could read the underlying worry in the medic's dark eyes.

He watched, as Nathan talked to the doctor, no longer able to listen in on the conversation. Suddenly his hand jerked and he turned to see what Ezra needed only to realize the man was mumbling and trying to sit up. "Ezra, what the hell are you doing?" Vin pushed at him gently trying to settle Standish back down like he'd been doing so far but Ezra pushed back with more strength than Vin would have thought him capable of. Ezra let go of his hand then and reached for the oxygen mask, pulling it off and tossing the contraption aside. "Ezra you need that. Come on relax and lay still." Vin tried again but Ezra only pushed harder, seemingly oblivious to the pain.

"I need to get up," he said.

"No, now lay still. You're gonna hurt yourself more."

Ezra shook his head, his green eyes full of confusion.

"I need some help here!" Vin raised his voice as Ezra pushed him away again.

"Damn!" Buck and Chris were there in a second.

"Ezra, stop," Chris commanded, taking hold of his shoulders while Vin stilled his legs and Buck attempted to get the oxygen back in place.

"Easy with him," Nathan called over Chris' shoulder, and then quickly relayed what was happening to the doctor. "Don't hold him down, he'll just struggle more and start that bleeding up again. He can't go far, just be there to catch him and get that oxygen back on him, ASAP."

But Ezra continued to struggle even as the men holding him began to back off. He cried out as he tried to kick out at Vin, and sank back onto the seat as the pain ripped through him.

The hands pressing him down had spurred his memory. Masked men, holding him while another landed sharp consecutive hits to his midsection. "No!" He pressed away from the blows but met only resistance. Their words, cursed and threatened, reminding him again and again that he was no longer worth defending or even tolerating. "No, get away," he cried out again.

Josiah moved forward as Ezra began to cry out and nudged Buck out of the way. Kneeling beside the seat as Ezra struggled he reached up and gently grasped Ezra's head in his hands. "Ezra!" he said sharply. "Listen to me."

Ezra stilled at the command, his breath coming in rapid gasps, as his eyes darted wildly from man to man.

"Listen to my voice, Ezra. It's Josiah. You're okay. Do you hear me? You're okay. Look at me." Josiah's voice softened as he spoke. He could feel Ezra's body relaxing beneath his hands. "Come on Brother, look at me." Finally Ezra's watery green eyes locked with his. "You're going to be okay," Josiah told him. "Do you understand me?"

Ezra blinked rapidly and searched Sanchez's face, recognition slowly appearing in his expression.

"I'm going to let go now, and you are going to let Buck put the oxygen back on you, you understand?"

Ezra managed a small nod.

"Alright then. You're going to be okay, Ezra. You understand?" Josiah asked one more time.

"Y-yes." Ezra managed between his gasps.

"Good. Now lay still and let Nathan take care of you. Don't scare us like this again." Josiah smiled gently and patted Ezra's cheek as he released him. Quickly Buck slipped the oxygen mask back on as Vin and Chris stepped further out of the way.

Nathan advanced quickly to check on the bleeding and his vitals. Cursing, Jackson informed the doctor that the bleeding had started up again but he thought he could get it back under control without a problem. "We should be landing in a few minutes, how long will it take to get him to the hospital?" Nathan asked as he pointed for Buck to hand him more dressings from the first aid kit. "Okay, right. I'll see you soon after then." Nathan hit disconnect and tossed the phone to Vin so that he had both hands free to work with.

Chris watched as Ezra continued to relax, his face contorted with pain and his muscles tense with his effort to control his reactions. Shaking his head and backing further out of Nathan's way, he turned and caught Rogers' intense gaze. His anger swelled and he moved fluidly towards the NSA agent, enjoying the fact that Rogers was visibly uncomfortable with his attention. He noticed that Vin had followed him. Chris stopped at the seat in front of Rogers' and leaned against it, his countenance deceptively casual.

"Is he going to be okay?" Rogers asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Does that actually matter to you?" Vin asked as he unconsciously copied Larabee's stance across the aisle.

"Well it's not like I wanted the man dead or anything," Rogers snapped.

Chris growled. "Could have fooled me."

"Look, I never intended for anyone to get shot. I was just trying to help," Rogers looked from man to man, his posture relaxing when he realized they really weren't going to touch him. "So you really hired Standish on as one of your sky marshals did you?"

Chris frowned and looked at Vin. "Did he just call us sky marshals?"

"I think he did." Turning to Rogers, Vin grinned. "He really hates that name, you know."

"Jeez, you gents are touchy." Rogers ran a hand through his hair. "The program used to be called Sky Marshals didn't it?"

"Used to being the key phrase there. It is Rogers isn't it?" Chris asked.

"Yes, Lance Rogers."

"Well Lance Rogers, yes, Ezra is a part of this team of Federal Air Marshals. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Just don't see how you can trust the man." Rogers said flippantly.

Vin shook his head wondering how one man could be so stupid. "Take one step forward and three steps back," he muttered under his breath.

Chris leaned forward menacingly. "I can trust him because he is trustworthy," he whispered.

"Yeah but you've got to have read his file," Rogers pointed out.

"I said, he's trustworthy," Chris continued. "He is worthy of my trust."

Vin pushed himself up straight and stepped forward, "Judging a man on rumor don't prove anything," he hissed. "You'd do good to remember that before you screw the NSA's next fall guy over as easily as you did Standish."

"What's his problem?" Rogers asked as Tanner marched away angrily.

"That would be…you," Chris pointed.

"Ladies and Gentleman, We are now approaching Cork International airport. I ask that you return to your seats and put your seatbelts on. Please remember to remain seated until instructed. We'll have you disembarked as soon as possible." Chris recognized the speaking voice as that of co-pilot Reese.

"You heard the man," he told Rogers. "Go find a seat in economy or business."

"Why?" Rogers looked startled.

"Because I don't want you coming near any of my team again, and that little girl over there is going to stay with her mother. So get out."

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Nathan held his breath as the plane bumped against the ground. He heard the moan from Ezra and knew that even the smooth landing was torture for the injured man. Jackson was thankful to be on the ground again. Ezra's earlier outburst had frightened him more than he was willing to admit. He'd been so afraid that they weren't going to be able to get Standish calmed down and then Josiah had stepped in and taken control. Amazingly enough the older man had been able to break through whatever fog Ezra had been in, and Sanchez still hadn't moved from Ezra's side.

As soon as the aircraft had decelerated enough for Nathan to stand up without falling over, he was out of his seat. "Ezra?" he leaned over Standish, checking his pulse again. "We're here. I bet you always wanted to see Ireland, huh?" Nathan smiled as Ezra's eyes focused on him. "Actually, knowing you, you've probably already been here, haven't ya?" He was rewarded with a weak smile and he patted Standish's leg as he continued. "We'll get you off this tube first thing, okay? I want you to cooperate with the paramedics, do you hear me?"

Josiah grinned and looked up at him. "You think he's capable?"

"God, I hope so or we'll end up in the middle of another international incident."

Suddenly the room exploded in activity as Julie ushered a group of paramedics into the cabin. Nathan and Josiah were pushed out of the way as one man moved to assess Ezra's vitals while another popped open a box and started preparing an IV, all the while talking softly to Ezra. A third man looked at Nathan. "You've been working on him?" His accent was thick, but Nathan could understand him well enough and began to fill them in.

Two other emergency workers were taking care of Ms. Lewis and her daughter, and already helping her to her feet. The rest of Team 7 stood clustered together on the other side of the cabin, watching the strangers take care of their teammate.

"How are they going to get him out of here?" JD asked in a low whisper, but everyone was too focused on what was happening to answer.

They waited, forced to stand back and watch as Ezra was first stabilized and then awkwardly loaded onto a narrow backboard. Their offers to help were pushed aside as two of the medics lifted the burdened board high enough to squeeze through the aisle. They followed.

Out side the breeze was light and fresh, making them realize exactly how stuffy it had been in the plane. Ezra was placed, board and all on a stretcher then and wheeled toward the nearest ambulance. Chris jogged a few steps to catch up to the stretcher right before they loaded Ezra.

"I'm sorry sir, if you want to come along you'll have to ride up front," One man explained apologetically.

"Just let me talk to him a sec," Chris insisted, already pushing past.

"Ezra, they're going to take you to the hospital and get you patched up. We've got to clean up here but we'll be there as soon as possible, you understand?"

Ezra nodded wearily.

"We will be there." Chris grabbed his hand and squeezed before stepping back and out of the way. "We'll be there," he repeated again as the doors closed and the siren blasted around him. He waited until the ambulance was out of sight before allowing himself to turn back to the plane. The quicker they could hand control over to the Irish authorities, the quicker they could get to the hospital to be there for Ezra.

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"So, how is he doing really?"

Chris glanced at his commanding officer, raising one eyebrow and shrugging. Travis had flown into Cork the day after the hijacking attempt to help wrap up the jurisdictional mess and play peacemaker as the case was eased into the FBI's hands.

"He doesn't tell me anything more than he does you," Chris pointed out as he followed Orrin's gaze across the busy terminal.

Standish sat, comfortably ensconced in one of the airport's courtesy wheelchairs while Nathan hovered nearby. The southerner had balked adamantly when Jackson had insisted on the chair. "I was released with a good bill of health, sir. I am not an invalid."

"No, but you're suppose to be taking it easy, and walking from here to kingdom come is not doing that!" Nathan had argued right back. "Besides that, if we let you walk, we'll end up missing our damned flight." The smile had come out of nowhere and obviously had caught Ezra off guard as he geared up for a retort, because he'd stopped suddenly, confused for just a moment. Then he'd flashed a somewhat sheepish smile, the only admittance to the truth of Jackson's tease, and settled obediently into the wheelchair.

Larabee watched his agent now, hands easily manipulating a deck of playing cards. Other than the wheelchair, only the man's pale complexion and occasional wince betrayed his injury at all.

"He does seem okay," Travis commented, answering his own question.

Chris nodded, unable to voice his own relief in hearing the simple statement. He could still feel his intense fear and worry as he'd stood watching the ambulance speed off with Ezra inside. Chris had wanted to go with him, to make sure that Standish was really going to be all right, but his responsibilities had tied him to the plane.

Team 7's jurisdiction had ended as soon as the door of the plane had been opened, but it had taken time to clear up what happened and transfer control of the scene to the local authorities. When they'd finally arrived at the hospital, two hours had passed, but they still found themselves in a modestly decorated waiting room with nothing to do but pace and drink bitter coffee as they waited for an update on their teammate.

When Dr. Sean McIntyre had entered the room he'd smiled and with his soft lilting accent had quickly assured them that Ezra was going to be fine. The bullet had hit no vital organs; it had just torn through muscle.

Chris ran a hand over his face and stifled a yawn. It had been a long, busy week. The flight had been on Tuesday, Travis had arrived on Wednesday and then Standish had been transferred to an American affiliated hospital on Thursday. After that things had calmed down only slightly as they'd spent most of their time either at the hospital with Ezra or debriefing with authorities and various intelligence agencies.

Ezra had worked, despite Nathan's protests, from his hospital bed, calling in reports from several embassies. The Husam Al Din was not claiming responsibility for the failed attempt at forcing Imran El Farren's release, but El Farren was spouting off from his prison cell, calling on the Sword of Faith to avenge the slaughter of their innocent Brothers.

The international media had been left with enough information to fill only about a thirty second slot on their evening news shows. "Definitely not the job for fame or glory," Buck had playfully muttered after viewing one such report, featuring Korine of all people. "I told her to let it go," he added, thankful that she had left out names.

There hadn't been a lot of time for sightseeing around Cork, but they had managed to hunt down a couple of popular pubs. JD had felt bad at first, for leaving Ezra behind in his hospital room but the hospital staff had been strict about visiting hours and Standish had seemed to understand.

"Larabee?" Chris turned realizing that Travis was talking to him again. "Where is the rest of your team? The plane should be ready for take off soon."

"They're around." Chris grinned. "Josiah and Vin went to find something to drink and Buck and JD are off checking out the shops."

"How are JD and Vin doing?" Orrin asked. He knew that both agents had been banged up a bit on the flight.

"Fine. Nathan forced both of them to see a doctor while we were waiting for news on Ezra's condition. No broken bones or concussions with either of them."

"Good, good. I'm going to call the crew and see when we can board." Travis moved off to the side of the room as he flipped open his cell phone.

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Ezra smiled absently as he thumbed his new deck of cards. A gift from JD, Standish couldn't bring himself to mind the tacky bright green deck, emblazoned with four leaf clovers and 'Luck of the Irish, Cork Ireland'. He shuffled the stiff cards with ease and glanced up and around the terminal.

Nathan sat in the row across from him reading a medical thriller he'd picked up at the airport's bookstore. Chris and CO Travis stood at the edge of the waiting area, Travis talking on a cell phone. Ezra observed the two men carefully, unsure of what to think about either of them. He respected them both, immensely and it had genuinely shocked him on Wednesday when Travis had walked into his hospital room and asked him how he was feeling. Lots of things seemed to be surprising him this week.

He really didn't remember all of what happened after he'd been shot, well, at least not that he'd admit to anyone else. He remembered the pain, and the growing fear of losing control. He remembered JD and Nathan taking care of him and then the near constant presence of Vin and later of Josiah. He'd told both Nathan and the doctor that he couldn't remember any of what happened right before they landed, but when he'd tried to recall what happened, he had remembered the flashback.

The attack had happened in the parking garage at work back when he was still with the NSA. Four masked men. He'd never tried to physically prove their identities; he'd recognized their voices. He knew them. They had been members of his division, teammates essentially. He'd informed the medical staff at the emergency room that it had been an attempted mugging, filled his prescription painkillers and gone home wondering if he'd ever find another job where he could use his training. That had been about one year and three months before flight 1412, and he'd thought that he'd successfully managed to bury those memories.

Ezra tensed slightly with the memory and his side pulled, causing him to hiss softly.

"You alright, Ezra?" Nathan asked, his brown eyes larger with concern.

Ezra smiled and nodded. "I'm fine, Mr. Jackson. I just moved unwisely."

Nathan paused as if trying to decipher if Ezra was telling him the truth or not, before finally conceding. "Okay then, but you let me know if you need anything."

"Rest assured, you'll be the first to know, Nathan." The familiar first name of his colleague felt awkward on his tongue but the others continually harangued him about not using their first names. He'd fought it for three months, not wanting to open himself up to that kind of closeness, but the last week had destroyed a good portion of his defenses, a realization that he wasn't completely at ease with.

He wasn't sure he was ready to trust these men fully, and yet he'd been forced to all week long. Regardless of their differences, they had been there for him, from the moment he'd been shot to the moment he'd awakened in the hospital to find Chris pacing his room. "Told you we'd be here." Chris had smiled at Ezra's obvious confusion. Ezra actually feared the fact that the precarious walls they had stacked amongst themselves for protection had been virtually blown out of the water on this mission. He wasn't sure he wanted these men to truly get to know him, for once they did…they might react like everyone else in his life seemed to, they'd bail on him.

"Here Ez, brought you one of them fancy mineral waters you like so much." Ezra looked up as Vin held out the bottled beverage. He hadn't even heard Josiah and Vin approach.

"Thank you, Mr. Tanner." He tucked JD's cards into the breast pocket of his designer shirt and accepted the drink.

"Yeah, he remembered Nathan's no caffeine rule." Josiah chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink.

Ezra rolled his eyes dramatically. "It was just a flesh wound," he insisted.

Nathan choked and spluttered on the sip of water he'd just swallowed, causing the others to laugh, Ezra holding his side and rethinking the concept of sarcasm for awhile.

"What's so funny?" JD asked as he and Buck joined the group. Buck immediately pounding on Nathan's back as the medic continued to cough and gasp.

"Ezra's flesh wound," Josiah answered.

Buck grinned and shook his head. "Hell of a nick there, Ezra."

"I aim to be the best in all things." Ezra smiled innocently as the others laughed again.

"Are you boys ready to go home?" The group turned as Orrin and Chris approached.

"Sure are!" JD nodded emphatically in response to Travis' inquiry.

"Plane is on the tarmac. They're almost ready, said we can head out now."

Josiah picked up his carry on and Ezra's while Vin grabbed Standish's brief case. The doctor's 'no lifting anything' order was still ringing in their ears from his lecture before Ezra's discharge earlier that morning.

Kicking up the footrests on the wheelchair, Ezra slowly eased himself out of the contraption.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nathan asked sharply, causing everyone to freeze momentarily.

"I will walk to the airplane, Mr. Jackson." Ezra's voice was even but his eyes flashed.

"Let's go then." Chris cut in before Nathan could protest again. He could see the stubborn set of Ezra's jaw and the stiff, unyielding posture. Standish would not be swayed from this decision.

Travis hung back to walk with Larabee as Josiah pushed open the door leading outside. The group moved together, someone always suspiciously close to Ezra in case they were needed. Standish, for his part, walked smoothly, with no sign of pain of struggling. His gait remained even, if slightly slower than normal.

"You certainly have your hands full, don't you?" Travis asked Chris quietly.

Chris just smiled. "You could say that, I guess."

"You guys make a good team."

"Yeah well, it's a start." Chris nodded.

Travis paused and turned to Larabee. "You know that back home, Team 4 had already dubbed you guys 'the magnificent seven'?" He chuckled at Chris' groan.

"You're kidding."

Travis shook his head, "No, not at all." He paused a moment before growing more contemplative. "On the plane, did you really have to use deadly force and kill them all?"

Chris looked at Travis, trying to gauge if the older man was serious or not. "Hell yeah. They'd already killed one girl, beat another lady unconscious and shot Ezra. You know that if it wasn't for him JD would be dead, not to mention the fact that he even took one out after he was down." He ran his hand roughly over his face, reigning in his emotions. "Look Sir, you just can't fuck around up there. I did what had to be done, no second guessing."

Orrin held up both hands in surrender. "I know, I know. I'm not questioning your judgment." He smiled tightly. "I'm just letting you know that the reputation is probably going to stick."

"Fair enough." Chris started to move again but Travis caught his arm.

"Thank you for not killing Lance Rogers."

Chris shrugged, "He wasn't worth it." Larabee started walking again, then slipped into a casual jog to catch up with his team.

Travis stood back and took in the scene as they waited for the flight crew to stabilize the steps against the side of the small FAA jet he'd used to get to Cork. The sun was just slipping behind the jet; its rays reflecting brilliantly off the exterior. Backlit, seven men stood, ready to support each other and to defend one another, side by side and truly together as a team.

Orrin smiled proudly to himself. Team 7 had definitely passed this test of working together. Not only were they an effective team, he had no doubt now that they were also his best. As he began to walk forward he laughed softly. "Hell of a team you put together there, Travis, a damn fine team."

The end!

hope you liked it!