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DueSeven Warnings/Ratings: PG13 barely, some bad words and minor violence. Disclaimer: Neither the Magnificent Seven or Due South characters are mine. I just borrowed them. Comments:
If
you're a Due South fan, this could be really confusing since I have used
a favorite Magnificent Seven AU. In this AU the boys are moved forward
from the Old West to current day. They now work for the ATF as Team Seven.
I
feel they have sort of the same relationship as Ben and RayK. family/brothers
by choice, partners.
If you'd like to give this a shot and want to know more about the men
of the Magnificent Seven here's a link to give you some background. I hope I've done justice to both of these shows. Special Note: Ryan Kelly of Team Eight is a creation of HeatherF. She kindly allows me to borrow him because I just think he's so great. Thanks Heather. |
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When a small plane disappeared over the mountains along the border between Canada and America it barely made the local news. Search and Rescue teams from America joined with the RCMP in searching. Four days later after numerous flyovers of the registered flight plan they started expanding the search. But neither government was holding out much hope of anything being found. Another three days saw the search quietly called off, without even the local news commenting. The pilot had no family and there was some question as to how many or even if there were passengers. At least that was the reason the head of the American Search and Rescue gave. Course he made sure that the six hard faced men who'd lost a friend were surrounded by S&R personnel when he did. Facing those men was the scariest thing he'd ever had to do. When the deadly looking blond demanded topographical maps of the area he handed them over without a question. As he told his wife later that night if those six men were crazy enough to ride back into the high country looking, let them. The RCMP Captain had it much easier. He only had to face one man, a subordinate at that. In a kind but firm tone he told the blank faced Sergeant that the search had been called off. He politely ignored the momentary shattered look in the Sergeant's eyes at the news. When the Sergeant asked for leave it was given along with the supplies he requested. It was understood but unspoken that the man was going to look for his friend. Plus, the captain told his wife, when it came to that particular Sergeant is would have done no good to refuse anyway. This story might have ended there if the missing men and the friends searching for them hadn't been who they were….. (~)~(~)~(~)~(~) Setting his pack down, the dark haired man pulled a small leather covered scope out of his pocket using it to scan the meadow below. On the third pass movement on the other side near the edge of the treeline caught his attention. The large white wolfdog at his side whined questioningly. "I have no idea who they are." Another whine, then a sharp bark were uttered. "Yes they do look well armed but that doesn't necessarily make them dangerous." At the wolf's growl the man lowered his scope and looked down. "Not everyone we meet shoots at us. Don't be melodramatic." (~)~(~)~(~)~(~) The men pulled up their horses at the edge of the treeline four watching quietly as two dismounted. The younger of the two had shoulder length brownish blond hair and wore a buckskin jacket. The older man was blond and dressed all in black. The younger pulled a shiny gold scope out of his pocket, using it to scan the meadow. His relaxed stance straightened as he focused on something on the other side, halfway up the hill. The tall blond turned to look in the same direction, straining to see what had caught his friend's attention. "What is it?" "You're not gonna believe me." "Try me." Behind the two men the other four shifted in their saddles, leaning forward. "Judging by the hat, a really big boy scout an a wolf." The younger man held out his scope. "Or maybe a Mountie. They wear those sorta hats." With a glare the blond focused the scope on the hill. After a moments study he turned back to his companion, "How far north are we?" "Not that far." "You think that's a Mountie, might be a park ranger." "Did some bounty hunting along the border." The younger man shrugged, "Doesn't look harmless enough to be a Park Ranger. Could be." "You think he's looking for the plane too?" The question came from one of the mounted men. Tall with dark hair and a mustache he urged his dappled gray horse closer. "Only one way to find out." The blond swung up on his horse waiting while the other man stored his scope and mounted his own blaze faced black. "Let's go ask." The six men started across the meadow toward the figure slowly making his way down the hill. (~)~(~)~(~)~(~) Sgt. Benton Fraser closely studied the six men approaching. Whoever they were, they were well outfitted for backcountry travel. Horses and mules were all fit and well cared for, equipment in excellent shape. Each man sat his horse with a grace and ease only gained by long hours of riding. There was an order to their approach with each horse seeming to know it's place. Something that only happened among horses used to traveling together. As the riders got closer he focused on individual details. The leader was a tall blond whose lean whipcord frame was reminiscent of the man Fraser currently searched for. Dressed completely in black, astride a pure black horse he rode with the confidence of a man who knows he has an army at his back. The man to his right didn't need the rifle slung casually across his lap to mark him as a hunter/tracker. The keen blue eyes and wolf like caution gave him away, especially to another hunter/tracker of Fraser's quality. Behind the tracker rode a tall, well-built African-American man. His face was handsome, highlighted by intelligent eyes and an expressive mouth. He carried no rifle, but whenever he turned several knives could be seen gleaming against the back of his shirt. The man to the left of the leader had turned back to speak to what looked like a younger version of himself. He was taller than Fraser with dark hair and a mustache. A rifle stuck out from the boot under his leg and glimpses of a shoulder holster could be seen. The younger man that rode behind him would have looked harmless except for the pistols strapped to each hip. He appeared much too young for such hardware. He, alone, was smiling slightly at the waiting Mountie. The last member of the party was the oldest, looking to be in his early fifties. Solidly built he had a craggy though handsome face. Like all the others his clothing and gear showed signs of normal wear consistent with regular use. Whoever they were being outdoors was not unusual for them. If you ignored the modern weaponry they could have almost ridden straight out of the past. Fraser stopped at the edge of the meadow letting them approach. His wolf companion also paused, offering his opinion again in a huffing growl. "Yes I promise if they shoot us, you can say I told you so." Fraser sighed. To himself he muttered, "You pay and pay and pay." (~)~(~)~(~)~(~) Chris Larabee, ATF agent and head of Team Seven shared a knowing look with the man to his right. Either the stranger was wicked smart or a crazy fool. He'd stopped next to a large boulder that could be used for quick cover if needed. But most men would have looked at least a bit concerned at being approached by six well-armed men. This guy looked like he was getting ready to welcome Sunday visitors. "Right pretty ain't he?" Chris' oldest friend Buck Wilmington said from his left. "Never knew you went that way." Chris shot him a quick smirk. It was true though the man was classically handsome. His dark hair and broad shoulders made him look like something from a wilderness ad. Besides the odd hat, he wore jeans and a flannel shirt the dark blue sleeves rolled up to reveal the white Henley underneath. Well cared for hiking boots, a sturdy pack and rifle completed the picture. "Well if I was, you'd a been the first to know." Buck shot back, refusing to be embarrassed. "Call it assessing the competition." "Ain't no ladies out here Buck." Vin Tanner spoke from Chris' right. "Man has to always be prepared." Buck shot back, though his voice didn't hold it's normal boisterous tones. In fact no one's heart was really in the normal banter. One of Team Seven's own was missing and everyone felt his absence. Chris pulled Shade up swinging down to the ground. After taking a moment to study the man in front of him and be studied in return he held out his hand. "Chris Larabee, ATF." Behind him the others also dismounted. "Sergeant Benton Fraser, RCMP." Fraser shook hands firmly studying the group. "A pleasure to meet you." "You're a might far south." Chris said. "Yes, I'm searching for a plane that disappeared a little over a week ago." Fraser gave Chris his best 'I'm a Mountie, so this is normal' look. "You too?" Fraser smiled politely acknowledging the comment from the youngest of the group. "Yes my partner Detective Ray Kowalski was a passenger. And you are?" "He's JD Dunne, I'm Buck Wilmington." Fraser shook hands with the mustached man. Easily reading the faint warning of don't mess with the kid in his eyes. "Pleased to meet you." One by one the others stepped forward. Josiah Sanchez was the older craggy faced man. Nathan Jackson the African American. The last to step up and offer his hand was the one Fraser had cataloged as a hunter. After introducing himself as Vin Tanner he knelt down to offer a hand to the wolfdog. "Nice animal, part wolf?" "Yes, his name is Diefenbaker or Dief if you prefer." Fraser noted the friendly greeting Dief gave the other man. The wolf was usually an excellent judge of character. He looked up catching Chris studying him closely. "You're also looking for the plane. Could that have anything to do with why it crashed?" "Might have, one of my men was on it." Chris glared at the Mountie. "Man has to wonder what you're doing looking in this area. Search and Rescue say it went down a hundred and fifty miles east of here." "I could ask you the same question." Fraser replied the pleasant, slightly innocent look on his face the same one he used to drive his superiors nuts. Chris stiffened, but before he could speak Fraser continued. "It's a matter of logic. If a plane is not where it should be then it's somewhere else. I interviewed a retired bush pilot in Ketter, a Mr. Johanson. A fascinating man really, he used to fly the mail route for this region. In fact he had a very interesting story…" "What did he say about the plane?" Chris growled when Fraser paused for a breath. "Mr. Johanson indicated several spots where a plane could land in this country and the occupants possibly survive." Clasping his hands behind his back Fraser stood at parade rest, letting a bit of inner wolf show in his eyes. "So I'm searching this area." "We figured the same thing." Vin interjected, trying hard not to laugh. Fraser's polite routine had annoyed Chris almost as much as Ezra's 'who me' one did. He flicked a quick glance at Josiah and Buck to see if they had noticed. From the glint in Josiah's eyes and the twitch of Buck's mustache they had. "Maybe we should compare notes." "An excellent idea." Fraser seemed to take Vin's thought as an order pulling a topographical map out of his pack. Spreading it on the nearby boulder he began to point out things as he spoke. "I started in Ketter two days ago. According to Mr. Johansen the best place for the plane to be is here." He indicated an area a few miles South. Chris studied the map, pointing at the indicated section he said, "We came from that area. We're heading over toward this lake." "You walked this far in two days?" Nathan studied the other man with a medic's eyes. "Yes, it was very invigorating to be on the trail again." Fraser made is sound like he'd been on a slight stroll. "So," Buck started to say only to have Chris cut him off. "Not much daylight left." He gave Fraser a considering look. This guy seemed almost to good to be true. Chris didn't want him running around unsupervised. "If we camp together tonight we can compare notes. You can ride with us tomorrow if you want. I assume you can ride?" "Most competently, we are the Royal Canadian 'Mounted' Police." Fraser gave him the polite clueless Mountie smile though his tone was a bit sharp. "Joining forces would seem to be a good idea." The invitation gave him an excuse to find out more about these six dangerous looking strangers. "You can use one of our extras." Chris ordered, motioning towards the horses. "You came prepared to find survivors." Fraser said indicating the two extra horses JD was leading. "Yeah brought Hammer in case anyone besides Ezra made it." Chris arched an eyebrow questioningly. "What were you going to do?" Fraser's firm, "Whatever was necessary," got him another considering look. The two men stared at each other, much to the amusement of Chris' men. Finally Vin stepped between them, "Might as well camp in the meadow." He mounted up and started back down the hill followed by the others. Chris and the others followed, except for JD. He paused to offer Hammer's lead rope, "Do you want to ride down?" "Thank you kindly, but Dief and I will be along shortly." Fraser tipped his hat to the young agent before starting to fiddle with his map. "Okay." Still JD didn't move. When Fraser looked up he blurted. "You got to excuse Chris, he's real worried about Ezra." Realizing that didn't make much sense he continued, "He's our friend that was on the plane. He hates camping an being cold. Doesn't know much about surviving in the wilderness." JD let his shoulder's slump, he wasn't sure he was communicating what he meant. "He's more family than friend." Fraser said the words in an odd tone. JD smiled relieved. "Yeah that's it." Buck's bellow of JD prompted him to move. With a cheery, "See you down below." JD rode off. Dief barked sharply several times. "No I am not going to challenge Agent Larabee for leadership of his pack." Dief barked again. "No you may not challenge him either. Must I remind you that a human pack works differently? Challenge their alpha and they will tear you apart." Dief whined. "I'm glad to hear that." Fraser started walking down the hill. (~)~(~)~(~)~(~) Ray
Kowalski studied the man on the other side of the fire. If you'd asked
him seven days ago who he'd most hate to be in a plane crash with Ezra
Standish would have been at the top of the list right under his ex-wife
and her new husband. Their first contact at the airport had been less
than pleasant. Standish had been grumbling about schedules and baggage
in a heavy southern accent. Ray had been sure he was dealing with some
spoiled businessman. It wasn't until later when everything went hell and
they were falling from the sky that Ray had found out how wrong he was.
It had been Ezra who'd known enough to land them, more or less in one
piece. Even though he complained about everything the southerner eventually
was willing to do whatever they needed to survive. At first the two men
had been forced by circumstance into an uneasy alliance. But gradually
it was becoming one based on mutual respect. It had helped to discover
they had a great deal in common. Both had worked extensive undercover,
appreciated classic cars and had partners who insisted on dragging them
into the wilderness. In fact complaining about their partners/teammates
had been the first step towards bonding. It started two nights after the
crash as Ray finished tending Ezra's leg. "Fine." Ezra grunted as he worked to get the pain back under control. "Yeah, well it ain't Fraser good but I guess it'll have ta do." Ray began to repack the first aid kit. "At least it ain't pregnant moose." Ezra wasn't sure what to make of that last comment. Ray must have realized that, probably due to the strange look he was getting, because he added. "My partner Fraser makes this salve for cuts. He uses pregnant moose, or walrus or something." Seeing that Ezra was still confused he shrugged. "He's Canadian, a Mountie." Like that explained everything. "But I don't have any with me." "A fact for which I will be internally grateful." Ezra paused, trying to think of something else to say. "So how did a Chicago detective end up partnered with a Mountie?" "It's a long story." Ray's eyes took on a half amused faraway look. It was clear the memories were good ones. "It started when Fraser came to Chicago on the trail of the killer's of his father." After Ray finished his story he started telling Ezra some of the crazier things he and Fraser had done. Not to be outdone Ezra shared his own stories. It had started there, with both men figuring out that they must be nuts to hang out with such trouble magnets. Ray pulled himself back from those thoughts to the present and their current situation. "So." Ray started to ease into the subject they had been avoiding. "How's the leg?" Both men had suffered various bumps and bruises during their forced landing. Ray had a long deep graze on his right arm. Ezra had suffered a wicked four inch long cut on his left thigh. They had been treating it with supplies from the first aid kit. Those supplies had run out the day before. Everything Fraser had drilled into his head during their adventure told Ray that waiting much longer was only going to stretch their limited reserves too far. It was best to try and walk out now, while both men were still fairly healthy. "It seems to be much improved today." Ezra ran a hand over the injured spot. Looking up he shared a serious look with Ray. "Ah think that it's ready for the rigors of travel." "Yeah?" Ray grinned, "So you're saying you've had enough a this resort living?" "Most definitely." Ezra half laughed. "The only question is which direction we should head." He studied the man across the fire. In build and looks Ray reminded him of his boss Chris. But while he had Chris' lean wiry build and blond hair, the younger man bubbled with a frantic warm energy all his own. He talked like a Chicago street tough, but Ezra had found him to be intelligent and strong willed. He'd been surprised that a big city cop knew so much about the wilderness. When Ray explained about spending three months riding a dog sled across the frozen tundra then another two at his partner's cabin the surprise turned to amazement. All the camping trips his own teammates had drug him on paled in comparison. "North." Ray's tone was sure. "Fraser'll be coming from the North." "You are sure he will be looking?" Ezra asked softly. The stories Ray told about his Mountie partner bordered on mythical. "We've seen no search planes and Ah've come to believe we are quite far off our estimated flight plan. "He's out there." Ray affirmed letting his eyes drift toward the mound visible at the edge of camp. Their pilot had been dead even before the crash. The best either man could figure, he'd put the plane on autopilot and had a major heart attack. The problem was he'd been off course even then. They weren't even sure which country they were in though Ray felt it was still the US. "What about your team?" "Ah do believe they will be looking, but," Ezra let the sentence drift off then shook his head sharply. He would not allow old insecurities to surface. The others would not give up on him. When he spoke again his voice was sure, "They will be searching, but Ah'm not sure where they are." Ray nodded, "I'd almost say we should stay here till Fraser finds us, but it's getting colder every night." Unspoken was also the fact that emergency supplies were running out. He gave Ezra an earnest look, "Was a good idea ta wait till the leg got better, but I think we gotta get moving off these mountains." "Ah find myself in complete agreement with your assessment." Ezra cocked his head inquiringly at Ray's half laugh, half grimace. "What?" "It's just, the way you said that, you coulda been Fraser with a southern accent." Ray said. "He sounds like a very intelligent man." Ezra said smugly. "Oh he's the smartest guy I know, when he ain't playing clueless Mountie." Ray half laughed. "Then he's the most aggravating." "Ah hope he doesn't run into my friends then." Ezra had a wicked look on his face. "Chris can be very volatile when worried. He'll also be in a major alpha, big brother mode." "Fraser wrote the book on alpha male. He just does it in a passive aggressive way." Ray replied. "You're right, it'd be best they don't meet." "The odds of your partner and my friends actually encountering each other out here aren't even worth betting on." Ezra laughed.
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