Just Hanging Around

Frederick Holtz, an international gun runner, had been a minor figure during a FBI sting while Ezra Standish had been stationed in Atlanta. Due to the distinct possibility that Ezra might be recognized, Ryan Kelly and his team had taken the lead on this case. Ezra's able coaching had allowed Team 1's undercover specialist to create a character that Holtz was comfortable dealing with. Now two months of surveillance and undercover work were coming to a head. If everything went right, by dawn Holtz, his associates, and three quarters of a million dollars worth of illegal weapons would be in ATF custody.

Ryan Kelly and Chris Larabee were both leaning over the three-dimensional layout of the aircraft hanger where the deal was to be closed.

"This is going to be a bear trying to keep the scene secured," Ryan hissed.

"Your call, Ryan. Show me were you want my team positioned," Chris said calmly.

Ryan took a deep breath and began assigning his team to the positions he had selected. "If anyone sees a problem, speak up. I don't want this creep walking away and I want everyone going home undamaged."

No one spoke up and everyone seemed comfortable with their position.

"I wanted Sanchez and Jackson over here by the north doors." Ryan looked up and received nods from the pair. "Wilmington and Dunne over here along the east wall where they can back up my boys and still give covering fire for Sanchez and Jackson if some of the perps try to run for it." JD and Buck studied the layout and nodded, clearly comfortable with Kelly's choices. "Chris, I want you and Standish over here behind these crates so you can keep an eye on the deal itself. Holtz is hard to predict and I want Standish close enough he can warn us if things are going down the crapper. Tanner, you're up here." Kelly indicated the east wall opposite Kelly's high man.

"Be better here on the cat walk over the north door," Vin suggested thoughtfully. "That way Rich and I have different angles."

"Not much cover for you up there," Rich 'Eagle' Watson reminded softly.

"Not a good place in there for a high man period," Vin growled. "We could put down a couple of pieces of steel plate to lay on. It'll at least cut down on the chance of being shot from underneath."

Heads nodded in agreement.

"A little birdy told me that supply finally got a crate of those bulletproof blankets in yesterday," Milt Morris, Ryan's scrounger mused.

"And we weren't told," Kelly growled. "Acquire three of them for us please."

"Three?" Chris asked softly.

"One for Rich and one for Tanner. It might not be much but it might keep someone from shooting them, they'll be too heavy for the rest of us. Third one goes to you and Standish. I want you to get Randall and Shane out of the line of fire since they can't wear vests." Kelly explained.

A slight easing of tension was seen among the two teams as just a little more safety was offered.

"Good to go?" Kelly demanded.

"Good to go," the teams answered.

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The aircraft hanger fell silent as the gunshots finally ceased. "Team 1 report!" Arthur Strobe barked into his microphone.

"Bambi, I'm fine," Ryan Kelly responded to his surveillance man.

"Thumper reporting, uninjured," Ryan's number two reported.

"Flower, A-OK," team 1's explosive man called in.

"Owl, no injuries," Randall Thomas radioed.

"Magpie, scratches and bumps. I'm keeping this new blankie too," team 1's undercover agent growled.

"The Eagle has landed," team 1's sharpshooter announced cheerfully as his feet touched the ground after he rappelled down from his nest.

"Team 7 report," Arthur barked.

"Joker is clear," Chris responded listening impatiently for his team to check in.

"Romeo is fine." Buck's grin could almost be heard.

"Ace, I have acquired some bruised ribs and will require an update in wardrobe," Ezra drawled.

"Doc, no damage. Heading over to check on Ez," Nathan reported.

"Preacher is clear," Josiah responded.

"Data is undamaged," JD called in.

"Falcon, got mah feathers ruffled a might but no damage," Vin reported in amazement.

"Secure the premises and be careful," Ryan ordered.

A sudden burst of gunfire sounded and Kelly reacted instinctively and jumped onto the back of the not so unconscious gunrunner knocking him to the ground. Dammit, it I knew things were going too well. Ryan oomphed as Josiah Sanchez and Buck Wilmington landed on top of him. Aw shit!

A black boot mashed the gunman's exposed wrist onto the concrete until he lost his hold on the uzi. Leaning over Chris Larabee took the weapon into custody.

Buck and Josiah peeled themselves off the dog pile and gently lifted Ryan to his feet while Ezra Standish cuffed the gunman.

"Sorry you got mushed, brother," Josiah apologized while holding the gasping Ryan Kelly up.

A few pitiful squeaks came in answer as Kelly tried to regain his air. "Any . . . one hur . . . t?" the senior agent demanded once he caught his breath.

"Shots all went high," Chanu reported.

All eyes turned toward the bullet riddled roof and upper wall over the north door.

A distinctive "AW HELL!" echoed through the hanger.

"Vin you hurt?" Nathan demanded worriedly.

"Hold yer horses, I'm lookin' fer leaks," Tanner answered grumpily.

A long pause had everyone exchanging glances.

"I'm not hurt but mah rifle's gonna need a proper burial," Vin mourned.

"Better it, than you," Chris growled in relief. "Now, get your scrawny ass down from there."

"Don't get yer panties in a twist, I'm coming," Vin snapped. Tanner stood up and began securing his gear before climbing down.

The two teams began gathering their prisoners and searching them, securing the weapons and providing emergency medical care to the wounded criminals.

A 'twang' was heard as a bullet damaged cable snapped, followed by the screech of stressed metal. The section of catwalk where Tanner stood dropped several feet and twisted. Dropping his gear Tanner grasped the hand rail only for it to twist free launching him into the open air.

Horror filled gasps turned to relieved sighs as Tanner hit the end of his safety tether with a pained yelp.

"That's gotta hurt, but damned if Junior didn't listen to you and actually use a safety line, Nate." Buck gave a shaky chuckle, watching as Tanner spun in a slow circle some 15 feet above the floor. The two teams moved closer looking up at their comrade.

"Looks a lot like a piñata," JD mused.

"Does anyone have a big stick? Just a couple of good whacks would make me feel better," Nathan growled. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Move," Tanner choked in warning just before he started vomiting. Long moments passed and Vin finally stopped heaving.

"Have you finished or do you anticipate regurgitating yesterday's meals as well?" Ezra asked in disgust.

"Iffen yah see the twins down there I'd like fer us ta be buried tagether. I've been kinda attached to 'em fer quite a spell," Tanner groaned.

"Wouldn't have happened if you had that harness tightened like you're suppose to," Nathan chided.

"Tell it to that dumbass safety man OSHA sent around. Said I couldn't use my harness 'cause it weren't approved. This is that cheap ass crap the ATF bought. One size don' fit all," Vin fumed.

"Super wedgie." Buck winced.

"Are you gonna be able to get down on your own?" Chris demanded.

"Give me a minute, dammit," Vin growled. "Like ta see him danglin' by his boys," Tanner muttered unaware that he was still wearing his radio headgear and every word was being recorded for posterity.

"Call in transport and the EMT's now," Kelly ordered, now that the scene was secure.

Tanner started to lower himself to the floor when there was another 'twang' and more tortured screams of twisting metal.

"Move, dammit Tanner move," Larabee bellowed as the section of cat walk broke free and dangled by the weakened cables. A steel plate slid loose and crashed to the concrete below.

"Why don't you fellas move back some. Wouldn't want yah squished when this thing goes," Vin ordered in a pained wheeze. Tanner was now dangling underneath the catwalk. One of the broken cables was wrapped around the slender man. "Don' think I better try gettin' loose or I'll bring it all down on top of me."

Soft curses filled the air as the other men tried to figure out how to get the sharpshooter down.

"Fire Department." Larabee ordered harshly.

"They'll snatch him out of there like a kitten in a tree," Buck soothed the agitated men.

"Aw hell," Vin gagged and dry heaved.

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Vin was exchanging insults and pithy comments with members of both ATF teams, when the rescue team from the fire department arrived.

"Tanner, what in hell are you doing up there?" Capt. David Helm demanded, as the experienced rescue and extraction team began setting up equipment.

"Jest kinda hangin' 'round, Dave," Vin answered calmly.

"Well Junior, it looks like you've got yourself in a fix." Helm carefully studied the situation and began to plan the sharpshooter's extraction.

"No shit," Vin laughed weakly. "They's a loose plate up there, 'bout the size a that'n down there," Tanner warned.

"Can you tell how bad you're hurt kid?" Micah Lee asked.

"This harness is wanderin' inta places it ought not. Rekin I got some bruised ribs," Vin listed calmly. "Cable is cuttin' in some."

"No bullet holes? Will wonders never cease? Let me get a ladder and check you out," Micah said.

"NO! Yah stay out from under this damn thing until Dave says it's a go. Don't need you squished too," Vin snarled. The Texan moved in agitation. "I ain't bleedin' out 'er nothin'."

"Calm down Vin. I won't get under there until Dave says it's safe," Micah agreed.

Fifteen minutes later the catwalk was secure enough that they cut the cable wrapped around Vin in preparation to lowering him to the floor. The trapped Sharpshooter had continually heckled the Firemen as they worked.

"Anybody taking notes?" Dave chuckled. "Some of this needs to be written down for posterity."

Despite the situation, grins were exchanged at a particularly pithy exchange between the rescuers and Tanner.

"Mr. Tanner is certainly more verbose then usual," Ezra noted worriedly.

"Trying to keep his mind off being trapped," Chris growled helplessly.

"At least this time he isn't caught in a drain pipe." JD shuddered at the memory of trying to keep Vin calm. "I still don't know why I had to crawl in after him. Ezra was small enough to get in there too," Dunne muttered.

"Economics, Mr. Dunne. You were garbed in Walmart sale. I on the other hand was attired in a Gucci suit, Armani shirt and tie, not to mention the Bruno shoes. Mr. Larabee was simply considering his expense report when he dropped you down that manhole." Ezra smirked.

Helping hands gently supported the Texan as he was finally lowered into reach. Vin grinned weakly before passing out.

"Now, the little shit faints," Dave groaned in disbelief.

"Pack him up and ship him," Nathan ordered. "He needs to be checked out and unconscious is the easiest way to handle him."

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45 minutes later

Four Corners Hospital

Denver, Colorado

"ATF Team 7?" A lean dark haired man in hospital scrubs asked cheerfully.

"That's us." Larabee waved his hand indicating most of the waiting room. Chris stood up and walked over.

"Denny Metzmeir, we haven't met before. I just got finished working on Vin Tanner. He's going to have to take it easy for a week or so. If he doesn't show any signs of trouble I'll send him home in a couple of hours. The emergency room doctor smiled warmly noting the listener's surprise. "For some reason the nurses are giving each other high fives. If the stories I was hearing bear any resemblance to the truth, you gentlemen seem to have funded most of the surgical wing."

Embarrassed looks were exchanged.

"No bullet holes, broken bones, concussion or anything?" Nathan muttered.

"What about the twins?" Buck Wilmington demanded.

"Some deep bruising . . . that's the major reason I'm not too concerned with him overdoing things," Dr. Metzmeir chuckled. "It's going to hurt to breathe, much less anything more strenuous like . . . walking. Right now he's packed in ice to bring the swelling down. He has bruised ribs . . . the bullet proof vest protected him from the worst of the cable. All in all he's a lucky young man. Do you have any other questions? No, then one of you can go back and sit with him if you want. The nurses assured me you know the way."

"Yeah," Chris admitted heading out the door.

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Doc wasn't kidding when he said they had Vin packed in ice. Chris whistled faintly taking in the situation.

"Hi Chris, Vin's coming around. Dr. Metzmeir gave him a shot for the pain," Becky, a very familiar emergency room nurse, warned handing Larabee a basin.

Chris sighed and sat down waiting for the inevitable vomiting. His eyes trailed over the lean Texan in concern. Ice packs covered Tanner from mid-chest to mid-thigh. It'll take months to get him warmed back up. He'll be froze clean to the bone.

Chris leapt into action at the first pained gulp. "Easy Cowboy. No one else was hurt. Relax and don't fight it, Tanner," Chris spoke, making sure the disorientated Texan got the important information.

"Ever' body ok?" Vin demanded as he gagged.

"You were our only injury," Chris assured.

"Kin I have water?" Vin asked pitifully. "Hurts less iffen they's somethin' in there ta upchuck."

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Larabee Ranch

3 days later

Buck Wilmington carried a basketful of clean and folded laundry in.

"I was going to get that. Thanks, Buck," Chris sighed looking up from the stove.

"You want to get out for a while? I'll stay with Junior," Buck offered.

"No, he's not near as grumpy as he was," Larabee assured the other man.

"Scared me to be honest," Buck admitted. "Him staying so still that way, and I'm used to him being grumpy when he's recovering but I've never known him to be so down right . . . mean."

"Vin couldn't even take a deep breath without it hurting," Chris reminded.

"Chris, what in hell is this thing?" Wilmington held up the unfamiliar item. "You getting into something kinky?" Buck waggled his eyebrows and smirked.

"Nope, that's Vin's," Chris turned his back and concentrated on his cooking. An amused smirk twitched his lips as he listened to Wilmington mutter.

"Junior? Come on Chris, what's it for?" Buck demanded.

"It's a sling," Chris explained in a carefully controlled tone.

"A sling? Don't look like a sling to me," Buck snorted holding the item up so he could study it.

"Buck, what are slings used for?" Chris prodded.

"To throw rocks," Buck answered.

"Medical slings," Chris corrected.

"To support a damaged arm . . . Shit!" Buck stared at said item in amazement. "You're kidding? They make a sling for the boys?"

"Not another sound 'less you want me ta shootcha in the ass, Bucklin," Vin snarled reaching out and snatching the . . . thing before hobbling back into the bedroom.

Author's note:

For those of you that have to wear a safety harness on the job. I know it isn't comfortable but keep the darn thing tightened properly. You don't want to amputate anything Important.

Yep they really do make a sling to support abused male anatomy. One has appeared occasionally as a warning to certain family members to consider the repercussions of any particular behavior. I always hated nagging, besides this works much better.