Tracking a Friend's Footsteps

Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven or any of its characters. This work of fiction is purely for entertainment purposes. No profits were made and no harm was intended.

Notes: This story was supposed to be a birthday story for Phyllis. But then real life knocked me out of the fan fiction venue for more than three years. I've always believed better late than never so here it is edited, revised, and finally finished. Alex Kade worked as beta on this story. Any remaining mistakes are mine. Sections in Italics are thoughts or memories.

Quiet. Even within the turbulent mixture of confusion, pain and fear that encompassed JD's reality, he knew he needed to be quiet. Unfortunately the rusty hinges of the metal door he was trying to shut were not being cooperative. Turning away from the door JD tripped over some unidentifiable piece of debris. The unplanned lurch sent a spike of pain through his ankle and placed even more pressure on his swollen knee. He tried to ignore the pain and pay more attention to the cracked pavement in front of him, but it was so hard when the ground shifted beneath his feet without warning and everything else kept sliding in and out of focus. JD rallied his thoughts. It didn't matter how hard it was; he needed to keep moving; needed to stay ahead of the hunters stalking him. He couldn't remember who was hunting him, but as far as he was concerned 'who' was irrelevant. When you were being hunted you had three simple choices; you could run, you could fight or you could die. JD wasn't prepared to die just yet, but he was far too weak to fight which left running as the only viable option.

Another stumble had him clinging to a dumpster for balance. Despite the stench he found his head resting on the lowered lid as he tried to draw unsteady breaths past his aching ribs. The pounding pulse in his ears seemed to ease a bit but JD knew he'd have to start moving again soon. It wasn't just his life at stake. He had to warn . . . someone . . . someone important. JD groaned as he tried to grasp the vital memory that eluded him. The closest he could come was the certainty that it was related to work. If he could just get to his teammates and warn them of the threat, then he could rest.

He lifted his head, pleased to realize that, though he was still having trouble focusing, at least the ground beneath him appeared to have stopped moving. To his left a scattering of colorful lights drove back the darkness while engines and voices combined to tell of a busy street. It would be risky moving out into the open, but JD's best chance at warning the others required a phone, and his own cell had been lost or taken during the last few hours. He honestly couldn't recall which. Settled on a course of action, the young agent straightened and took a steadying breath before moving away from the support of the dumpster.

Screeching hinges and the echo of profanity-laden voices came from the dead end of the alley. Instinct overrode conscious thought to send JD scurrying for cover, creeping sideways into the narrow space between the dumpster and the building. The crouched position he was forced to take made his knee and ankle both throb with pain. Biting his lip barely held back a groan, but he knew he had to remain silent as the voices neared.

"I'm just saying, I don't see why the hell we've got to keep looking," whined the first voice. The image of a thin, narrow-faced man with greasy black hair and the tan skin of an indeterminate heritage came to JD's mind. "He got away! I say we cut our losses and split before the damn cops move in."

"We're going to keep looking until we find that little runt, because I'm not willing to sacrifice everything that I've built to your incompetence," came the scathing reply. This voice belonged to a thirty-something suited man. He was the real danger; the one that JD had to warn his team about.

"How the hell were we supposed to know he was a Fed? He barely looks old enough to be done with high school." Whiney protested.

"That's what I'm here for," reminded Suit. "You bring me information on prospective deals and I identify the risks. I'm the reason you weren't arrested or killed months ago."

"Let's not forget the tidy profit you earn for your services," insisted the deep voice of the third member of the trio. The image of a mahogany skinned man wearing jeans and a leather jacket floated through JD's mind. "Maybe we were sick of you cutting into our profits."

"And a fine job you've done on your own," Suit tossed back sarcastically. "The one guns for drugs deal you manage to cut on your own and it's with a couple of Feds. I'd be happy to let both of you drown in your own stupidity, but you just had to share my part of our arrangement with the boy Fed. Now I have no choice but to clean up your mess."

"Alright already," conceded Whiney. "We screwed up. We get that. But how are we going to find the little runt?"

"We'll backtrack," replied Suit. "I doubt he could have made it this far in his condition. We must have missed him somewhere inside." Footsteps receded through the junk cluttered alley.

A second screech of hinges was accompanied by, "Are you coming Trey?"

"I'm coming," answered the sullen voice of the mahogany skinned man.

JD stayed silent while the door at the back of the alley closed. He held still for several unbearably long moments fearing his hunters might realize their mistake and burst back out into the alley. Finally the light and bustle from the street; the lure of escape, was too powerful for JD to ignore. Cautiously he tried to maneuver out from behind the dumpster without further damaging his abused body. He was able to elude additional injuries, but he couldn't avoid the burning tingle of one over-tensed leg as circulation suddenly returned. He didn't bother to stifle his groan. Keeping one hand on the wall to maintain his balance, the agent slowly shuffled his way towards the safety of the street.

"What the. .?"

Spinning to face the voice made black spots dance before JD's eyes, but as his vision cleared he recognized his third pursuer. Trey, with a smoking cigarette hanging from his lips, looked as surprised as JD. For an indeterminable moment predator and prey stared each other down. Trey appeared to be shocked immobile by the sudden discovery of his victim, while JD was cursing the nicotine addiction that convinced Trey to have a smoke in the alley instead of following his partners. Then JD's flight instinct kicked in and he was running for the street as fast as he could. His injuries hobbled him but he hoped that being closer to the street would be enough of an advantage to evade his foe.

Dunne felt a tug at the fabric on his back and jerked forward before his opponent could tighten his grip. Blind panic pushed his body beyond its limits as escape became the only coherent thought in his mind. Nothing else could draw JD's attention away from the need to flee; not the sudden flash of white light in his peripheral vision or the squealing of tires.

As his body was flung through the air it occurred to a small, disconnected part of his brain that he should be in more pain, but by the time he landed on the street there was only darkness.

Their food had just arrived and Buck and his date, Beth, dug into their Italian dishes with gusto. For their first date Buck had already eliminated any thought of a quick seduction for the lovely young widow. Instincts sharpened by years of keeping company with the opposite sex warned that the somewhat shy lady was inclined towards slow moves and serious commitment. Buck kept the mood light and friendly with minimal effort. Contrary to popular belief there were no notches on his bedpost and he certainly didn't need to have a different woman in his bed every night. While it was true that there had been a time in his youth that he would have considered this date a waste of time, experience and maturity taught him differently. Buck was happy to enjoy the good food and wine in the company of a beautiful and intelligent woman. She might not be inclined towards the 'no strings attached' sort of loving that Buck preferred but that didn't mean this date couldn't evolve into a worthwhile friendship. Beth might even be willing to introduce him to a few lady friends with inclinations more compatible with his own.

They'd covered several topics while waiting for their entrees and Buck had been pleasantly surprised to find that once he got past her natural reserve there was no such thing as a taboo topic. She also had a wickedly dry sense of humor that reminded him a bit of Vin.

In fact, it had been months since Buck had indulged in his hobby of playing matchmaker. Nathan seemed to have figured out the lay of the land with Rain. Getting JD and Casey together had required considerably more effort, but they'd finally seen the light and were now a steady couple. Buck considered Chris's marriage to Sarah to be one of his greatest achievements, but that didn't mean he planned to try again. Losing Sarah and Adam had changed Chris. Buck didn't know if Chris would ever be ready to settle down and surrender his heart again. Besides, between Lydia, Maria and the occasional flirtation with Mary, the old war dog certainly wasn't hurting for feminine companionship.

Vin on the other hand had been virtually celibate since the whole Charlotte debacle. Buck felt somewhat guilty about the teasing he'd given the sharpshooter at the time. He'd been so preoccupied with his bet with Ezra that he hadn't realized how far Vin had fallen until it was too late. Though quite a bit of time had passed since Charlotte had walked away, Tanner was still acting like a hermit; at least where the ladies were concerned. Beth might be just what was needed to draw the quiet man out, and even if it didn't develop into some grand romance at least it would get Vin 'back on the horse' so to speak.

Buck was trying to decide if a barbeque at Chris's ranch or the play Josiah was helping out with at the community center would be the best way to introduce Vin to Beth when his cell phone rang. Recognizing Nathan's ring tone, Buck apologized to Beth for the interruption before answering.

"What's up, Nathan?" he asked. The others had known he would be on a date tonight, and Nathan was probably the least likely of their team to pester him with something frivolous.

"Now Buck, you're not going to like what I'm about to say, but I need you to stay calm, and hear me out," warned Nathan.

"I'm listening," Buck hissed out between clenched teeth. There was no way what he was about to hear could be good.

"I just got a call from my paramedic buddy, Aaron. He and his partner were responding to a 'vehicle verses pedestrian' call. When they rolled up the victim was being handcuffed and dragged to another car despite being unconscious. The guy trying to 'arrest' the victim was waving a badge, claiming to be a Fed, but Aaron said the whole situation felt wrong. Then he got a good look at the victim and recognized JD from his CPR re-certification a couple of weeks ago. He knows we work a lot of undercover so instead of identifying JD, he quoted regulations on suspects receiving required medical treatment. Right about then a couple of patrol cars pulled up and the so-called Fed backed down. In fact, while Aaron and his partner were stabilizing their patient for transfer, the Fed just disappeared into the shadows. Now Aaron admitted that they couldn't find a wallet or even a cell phone to identify their patient as JD. I described the knife wound he received during Olivia's kidnapping, as well as the gunshot wound from Maddie. Aaron confirmed both scars were right where I said, so . . ."

"So it's got to be JD," agreed Buck. The light pasta he'd been enjoying just moments before now sat like a brick in his gut. "What hospital is he being taken to?"

"Denver General. It's the closest Level 1 trauma unit. Chris said he'd head to your apartment to see if JD ever made it home tonight, then he'll meet up with Vin; and Josiah will start on the paperwork side of the investigation. You're to head to the hospital since you've got JD's medical power of attorney. I'll meet you over there just as soon as I've reached Ezra," detailed Nathan.

"Got it." Buck ended the call without bothering to say goodbye. "I'm sorry Beth, my roommate's been in an accident and I need to get to the hospital."

"Of course," agreed Beth. She'd easily recognized the sudden jump in tension as Buck listened to his call. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

A distracted shake of Buck's head was his only reply. Standing he signaled a nearby waitress. "I've got a family emergency so we need our bill rung up immediately," he instructed, handing her his debit card. As he grabbed his coat he remembered that he'd picked Beth up from her apartment, which was in the opposite direction from the hospital. "Damn, this is a lousy way to end a date, but I'm going to leave you cab fare so you can get home on your own." Slender fingers closed around Buck's hand as he started to rummage through his wallet.

"You've already taken care of dinner. I can handle cab fare," Beth insisted.

The waitress returned with Buck's card and a receipt to sign. Scribbling his name Buck promised, "I'll make this up to you as soon as I can."

"Nonsense. Take care of JD and let me know when he's recovered," Beth's words were both advice and request.

"Thanks darling, you're a saint." With a chaste kiss on Beth's temple Buck was out the door.

Ezra Standish was totally relaxed. The red wine he was sipping was from a small local winery he had discovered a year ago and since grown quite fond of. Ella Fitzgerald worked her magic in the background with the aid of Ezra's considerable sound system. Soothingly warm water lapped just below his chin with every move he made. It was moments like these that Ezra could admit why he'd really offered such a large down payment on the condo, his first truly permanent home. It wasn't for the trendy, upscale neighborhood, the square footage or even the multiple walk-in closets. It was the bathtub; the double wide, sinfully deep, Jacuzzi bathtub that he was even now luxuriating in. As soon as he'd seen the tub he'd decided to buy the condo, and he hadn't regretted a single penny spent. No matter how stressful or degrading work became he could always eventually return here to his safe haven; washing away the filth, both physical and psychological, and rejuvenate.

Not that today had been all that stressful. Though the team was currently working several cases, none of them had reached the point where his full concentration or skills as an undercover agent were required. Still, Ezra had always admitted to being a man who enjoyed his indulgences, and this tub was one indulgence he took advantage of as often as possible.

As the rather annoying buzz of his cell sounded, a frown slipped across Ezra's face. Given their current caseload it was unlikely to be one of his coworkers, which left Maude as the most probable caller. Good God, he hoped she wasn't calling to announce her imminent arrival. Surrendering to the inevitable, Ezra picked up his cell phone with a rather ungracious, "This had better be important."

"JD's been in an accident," came Nathan's succinct reply.

"What kind of accident?" asked Ezra. The shift from irritated to concerned was instantaneous.

"Vehicle verses pedestrian with suspicious circumstances," Nathan elaborated.

"Was Miss Wells injured," Ezra inquired.

"Casey?" Nathan asked confused.

"JD mentioned planning to meet with Miss Wells after her study group finished," Ezra informed.

"I don't know. When my paramedic buddy stumbled onto JD, he was unconscious missing his wallet, ID and cell phone. Some mysterious Fed was trying to arrest him until the real police arrived and the Fed disappeared. If JD and Casey were together, they didn't finish the night that way," was all Nathan could say. "Chris and Vin are heading to the accident scene. I'm meeting Buck at the hospital. Josiah was going to get started with tracing JD's credit cards and tracking down possible footage of the accident."

"Then I shall join Josiah at the office and focus on finding Miss Wells and tracking down JD's cell phone," said Ezra.

"Like as not, whoever took the cell was smart enough to turn it off," worried Nathan.

"Perhaps, but unless they destroyed it altogether, I should still be able to track it by activating its GPS beacon. JD possessed the test model for the locator beacon I now use in my undercover phone," explained Ezra. "You'll let us know how JD is recovering?"

"As soon as I talk to the doctors," promised Nathan.

"Until then," Ezra ended the call. Already the bathtub was draining and the half finished glass of wine had been discarded. Toweling off quickly, he headed for his closet. Someone had hurt his friend and Ezra was determined to find out whom. Then Team Seven would demand justice, and woe to anyone that tried to get in their way.

Chris pulled his spare key from the lock as he slipped into Buck and JD's apartment. Despite the jokes Ezra made about their apartment being the equivalent to a lab experiment of the CDC (Center for Disease Control), their place wasn't really filthy. Buck would never convince his lady friends to make return visits if it was. Cluttered was a more accurate description. Shoes lay in a jumble next to the door. One of JD's jackets was tossed haphazardly over a kitchen chair. The basket at the end of the couch that held video game equipment had overflowed, spilling onto the floor. Chris could also see a stack of dishes in the sink, though that was nowhere near overflowing yet. Chris's initial scan did little to either confirm or deny that JD had come home after work. He knew that Buck hadn't been back since this morning (having an early dinner date, Buck opted to bring a change of clothes to work). There were no signs of forced entry or struggle. The expected clutter was no more chaotic than usual. Spotting a flashing red light, Chris tapped the message button on the answering machine.

"JD?" spoke Casey's voice. "I know when you called you said you might be a few minutes late, but it's been more than thirty and I'm freezing my butt off. I tried your cell, but you're not answering." She sighed before continuing. "Annie's offered me a ride home, so if I don't hear from you in another ten minutes I'll likely leave with her. Just call me when you get this so that I know you're okay. Bye."

"Sounds like whatever trouble JD ran into, it happened before his date with Casey," commented Vin.

Though startled, Chris didn't scold his friend for his stealthy entrance. It was part of what made Vin Tanner so damn good at his job. "We'll need to get a hold of her, find out exactly when she talked to him and what he said. Maybe we can nail down the timeline a little firmer."

"Ezra already planned to call her," informed Vin. He knew Ezra would break the news to her more gently than Chris could. "She'll probably want to know which hospital he's at."

Chris nodded his consent. "I'm going to check their gun safe." Because Buck owned rifles as well as handguns, he had purchased a rather large safe years ago. When JD had moved in Buck offered to share his weapons safe as willingly as he'd shared his apartment. Spinning the combination to the numbers Buck had called him with just a short time ago; Chris opened the heavy, reinforced door. Inside he saw Buck's backup handgun as well as both of his rifles. JD's backup piece was also inside next to an antique revolver he'd found at a gun show a couple months back. What Chris didn't see was the gun that JD had worn to work this morning, or the badge that had been clipped to the holster of JD's gun. He remembered JD mentioning that many of Casey's college friends were nervous around cops, so he usually left the gun and badge at home if they were going out in a group. Chris was now fairly certain that JD had never made it home tonight. He closed the safe door and spun the combination lock before heading out. The answers he needed weren't going to be found here. One way or another; Chris was determined to learn who was behind JD's stay at the hospital, and then there would be hell to pay.

Buck stepped off the elevator, immediately searching for someone that could direct him to JD. Spotting Nathan in conference with an older Asian doctor, he headed their way even as he noticed JD lying vulnerable on a sterile hospital bed just a few feet away.

"Doctor Chia, this is Agent Wilmington. He'll have final say on any medical decisions until JD recovers enough to decide for himself," Nathan explained.

"Very good," greeted Chia. "As I was informing Agent Jackson, your friend was fortunate that the driver saw him in time to at least slow her car, or your friends injuries could have been much worse." Chia paused to let that thought soak in before continuing, "Injuries include significant bruising as well as a fracture to his left femur. We also found considerable bruising to his upper body, face and arms that he apparently received before the car accident. Most worrisome are the multiple blows to the head. One is clearly from the car accident, but MRI confirmed another previous head trauma. At the moment both bleeding and swelling are controlled, but we won't know the full extent of damage until he regains consciousness."

Buck absorbed the information, forcing aside the panicked thoughts of what multiple head traumas could do to his young friend's mind. Worry about JD's recovery would have to wait. Right now Buck's priority had to be JD's safety. "That previous head trauma you mentioned is one of the reasons we'll be setting up protective custody around JD. I'd like to limit access to just yourself and one or two other health care professionals. Agent Jackson and I will guard him at all times."

"You think whoever injured your friend would come after him here in the hospital?" doubted Chia.

"I know that despite his youth JD is a well trained and level-headed agent, yet he deemed whoever was chasing him to be more of a threat than oncoming traffic. Hell, we've got witness statements that claim someone tried to drag him away from the accident scene despite a crowd of onlookers. I'm not about to risk his life on the hope that whoever did this has finally decided to give up," Buck insisted roughly.

Nodding in acknowledgement of Buck's concern, Dr. Chia conceded, "I'll arrange for Nurse Bandy to handle his care. He can be moved to a private room as soon as casting of his leg is complete." Making a few notes in JD's chart the doctor moved away.

"I don't suppose," asked Buck turning to Nathan, "that your friend Aaron was able to wait around so I could talk to him?"

"No," replied Nathan. "He and his partner were called out again shortly after I arrived. But one of the officers on the scene is still here." Nathan pointed out the uniform standing a few yards away talking into a cell phone.

Noticing he'd become the focus of two ATF agents, the officer ended his call and joined them. "I'm officer Hallenbrook," he extended his hand. "Aaron said the victim was one of yours, maybe working undercover," the last few words held the lilt of a question as the officer sought to confirm what he'd been told.

"JD is definitely ours," asserted Nathan.

"What's got us a bit confused," picked up Buck, "is that he wasn't supposed to be working undercover tonight. He was supposed to be driving home to get ready for a date with his girl. Instead he ended up in the wrong part of town, no motorcycle, no badge and no gun. When you arrived on the scene did you happen to get a look at the badge being waved around by the fellow claiming to be a Fed?"

"You think the badge was actually JD's," surmised Hallenbrook.

"Well, the doctor essentially confirmed that JD was beaten well before he stumbled into traffic. It makes sense that whoever beat him would have taken his gun and badge," confirmed Buck.

"Sorry," Hallenbrook apologized. "He'd tucked the badge away by the time we got out of our patrol car. Claimed your friend was a suspect in a federal case, but didn't try to pull rank on us like he did with Aaron. He hung around the perimeter of the scene for maybe five minutes before he disappeared. However, there was one thing that caught my radar. Just before he disappeared he was talking to a thug that sometimes goes by the name 'Trey Hunter'. Rumor has Hunter dealing both drugs and guns, but so far we haven't been able to arrest him. He's about 5'10", 160 lbs, dark brown skin, shaved head and he seems partial to a black leather jacket, diamond stud earrings and cigarettes."

"Could you give us a description for the pseudo-fed too?" asked Nathan.

"6'1" maybe 6'2", closer to 180 lbs, fair skin, light brown hair, pale eyes, but I'm not sure if they were blue or green. He was dressed the part of a Fed with a suit and tie. Didn't see any other noticeable scars, birthmarks or tattoos," detailed the policeman. "My partner, Randolph stayed at the scene to gather up any footage nearby security cameras may have caught."

"We certainly appreciate the extra help." Buck was a bit surprised at the additional effort being offered.

"Randolph had a cousin killed while working undercover vice in L.A.," explained Hallenbrook. "When Aaron explained what was going on with your friend, Randolph took it personal." Hallenbrook offered both men cards with his contact information. "If there's anything else we can do to help, just call." With that Hallenbrook excused himself.

"Looks like they're almost done with JD's cast," commented Nathan. Critical eyes studied the attendant as he finished working on JD's injured leg. "I'm going to find out which room they're planning to move him to."

Buck nodded absently eyes still locked on his young roommate. His feet moved to JD's bedside of their own accord. Taking a deep breath Buck did his own assessment of JD's condition. There was no breathing tube, which Buck took to be a good sign. Leads attached to monitors tracked JD's heart rate and breathing, and the single IV was likely for keeping him hydrated. Buck seemed to remember doctors preferred to avoid drugs when head injuries were involved, but Nathan would know for sure. The right side of JD's face was dominated by a nasty case of road rash that filtered out from under the bandage at his temple down to the curve of his jaw. Buck also noticed the bruising around both of JD's wrists: a clear indicator that he'd been bound at some point; but pushed aside the anger it brought. Rage would do him no good here and now; it wasn't what the kid needed.

On JD's other side the attendant packed up his supplies, finished with the leg cast. Buck snatched the newly vacant chair and rolled it up beside his friend. "So partner, are you about ready to wake up and tell me what the hell kind of mess you got yourself into this time?" Buck's question was greeted with unnatural silence from the man on the bed. "Come on now," Buck pleaded, rubbing JD's uninjured shoulder, "JD you've got to wake up and give us a clue. The whole team is out right now chasing their tails, trying to figure out what happened to you." Again there was no response, not even a nominal twitch on one of the monitors. Buck was slammed with an overwhelming sense of wrong. This still form couldn't be JD. JD was always in motion; bouncing, talking, racing, bragging. Even in sleep if he wasn't tossing and turning, he was mumbling incomprehensibly into his pillow.

The arrival of a nurse who began checking the monitors and taking notes caused Buck to lower his voice. "Hell kid, right now I'd be happy to hear you say, 'Shut up Buck, you're full of crap.'" He tried to suppress how much JD's continuous quiet unnerved him.

Taking pity on Buck, the nurse offered, "His vitals have improved since he was first brought in."

Buck smiled at the middle-aged woman, recognizing the kindness for what it was. Once she'd walked away he continued. "Well kid, I recon you're right. You've been through enough already. I shouldn't be pestering you." Lightly brushing the hair away from JD's forehead Buck added, "You just rest. The boys and I'll take care of things until you're up and at 'em."

Several moments of stillness passed before Nathan and an orderly joined them. "JD is going to have a room on the eighth floor. It's at the end of the hall so we won't have to worry about too much foot traffic. I'd like to get him move there now." Nathan wasn't worried solely about JD's medical condition; right now their location was way too exposed. He wanted JD somewhere they could control access and better protect their friend.

Buck got up and stepped back to let the orderly do his job, but even as the bed began to roll towards the elevator Buck stayed close. He wasn't going to leave JD alone until those responsible for his condition were caught and the threat was eliminated.