"Buck packed a few things and he rode out of town. J.D. thinks that he’s planning on breaking Chris out."

"No doubt he is." But Judge Travis’ mind was elsewhere. There was something tugging at him. This ‘con’ to break the Seven had been elaborate and extremely well executed, but for what real purpose? Yes, the Seven had been broken, so where were the men who had achieved this feat or more importantly, the person or people who had paid them to do so? Had it simply been an act of revenge? Or, as Ezra and the others appeared to believe, an elaborate plan to destroy the Seven for some higher purpose?

"Where’s Chris now?"

"Still in jail... and still drunk."

So Chris was useless and Vin was dead. Nathan, Josiah and Ezra had left for good. Buck was probably camped just outside Four Corners waiting for the appropriate time to bust Chris out. And J.D. was left alone to defend the town he and his fellow peacekeepers had sworn to protect. Something didn’t add up.

Judge Travis had seen a lot of terrible things in his life. He had seen people suffer mercilessly at the hands of others. What had happened to Vin was horrendous for all who knew and liked the young man... for all who cared about Chris... for all who knew how close Vin and Chris had been... but it was more than just devastating for the rest of the Seven. In any group something as tragic as this always produces one of two outcomes. It can blow the team apart or it can draw them together. Why then, was Judge Travis finding it so hard to believe that the Seven had allowed it to destroy them?

Abruptly the experienced lawman rose to his feet.

"Judge?"

"I want to speak to J.D. There’s something here that doesn’t feel right."

**********

The first thing that struck Judge Travis as he walked through the door into the sheriff’s office was the smell of whisky. It was so thick that the elderly man almost gagged.

"J.D.?!"

The youth spun around stretching for the rifle that lay on the desk within easy reach. He had been fiddling with something on the wall and hadn’t heard the Judge enter. The young sheriff’s face flashed with shock and then he moved to his seat, sat down and laid his right hand on his weapon.

"Judge."

The older man tried to read the boy’s body language. J.D.’s eyes were large and concerned, his fingers attacking the rifle with nervous tension. His face was flushed. Poor, Kid. Travis thought. J.D. Dunne had come to the West three months ago as a boy. Now he was shouldering the responsibility of a town.

The young sheriff held Travis’ eye and then watched as the man who had hired him moved toward the cells.

Travis stopped, peering at the mass on the cot. Chris was lying on his back, his hat covering his face. Shaking his head with a mixture of sympathy and disbelief the hardened circuit judge turned and bore down on J.D. The youth lowered his head.

"Mary’s told me what happened. Now I want you to tell me what's going on?"

J.D.’s face remained down. "Don’t know what you mean," the boy whispered.

"First of all, none of this makes any sense. You still don’t know who it was that set you up." The Judge just couldn’t believe that the men he had come to respect for their loyalty Sto one another and to the town would walk out and leave Four Corners at the mercy of whoever had instigated the con. More poignantly, had left J.D. to face them alone. "After Chris shot Vin, you boys wouldn’t have just fallen apart. A normal group of men may have, but not you." Still J.D. continued to stare at the desk in front of him.

"Riders!" Someone yelled from outside. J.D. leaped to his feet and rushed to the window. Entering the town were eight men on horseback - eight men that caused J.D.’s blood to boil.

"They're here," the boy muttered. Turning, he called calmly, "Chris."

Judge Travis was startled. He watched as Chris Larabee pulled back his hat, rose to his feet like an angel of doom and pushed the unlocked door o the cell open.

Travis’ brow creased with confusion. The door was unlocked? As Chris swept into the middle of the room, his duster flapped. Chris Larabee was fully armed. And armed? "But... ?"

"Not now, Judge." Chris ordered with authority. He reeked of whisky, but his eyes were as clear as crystal and his voice was calm, firm and in control. "J.D.?"

"You were right. The sharpshooter isn’t with them," the boy stated, returning to the desk to retrieve his rifle.

"He’s in town somewhere. You know what to do."

"Yes, Sir." The boy moved toward the door.

"Be careful, son," Chris called. J.D. turned, nodded and then stepped out to face down the men who had done so much damage.

"Chris? What the hell is going on?" Travis demanded.

"We knew they’d be back. They haven’t collected whatever it is they’re after."

"But how do you expect to defeat them?"

"Haven’t got time, Judge," Larabee moved to the window. His eyes searched the roofs of the buildings on the other side of the street. "Where the hell are you, you bastard?"

Travis knew that Larabee had to be searching for their enemy’s missing sharpshooter. He was the real threat. He wasn’t just anyone with a rifle above, but a professional - that’s what made the difference. Whichever side had such a man above, automatically had the advantage, regardless of numbers.

How many times had the Seven been outnumbered, but a couple of quick shots from Vin’s deadly accurate weapon and the opposition had been whittled down to manageable size. Clearly, Chris knew that if he and J.D. were to have a chance, then they had to find and eliminate the other group’s professional sharpshooter.

The eight riders rode into town slowly, savoring their victory and the looks of shock on the faces of Four Corners’ meek citizens. They were in a single line, except for one of the gunfighters, who rode slightly in front, leading the rest of them.

"What do you want?" Mary called, stepping out into the street. Her neighbors too began to gather, their faces masks of fear. They no longer had seven gunmen to protect them. For the first time in three months, they were on their own.

"Mrs. Travis," J.D. shouted confidently as he exited the jail. "Go inside and lock your door. All of you, off the street." The people of the town complied immediately.

"Well, well, well. If it isn’t the sheriff," Pete called sarcastically.

J.D. stifled the urge to blow the other man’s head off. "What do you want?"

"We want this town," the gunfighter at the front of the mob stated with an arrogant smile. It was clear that he was in charge. "My name is Darren Brennen, but you can call me, Sir. We want everyone out of here by this time tomorrow."

"That ain’t gonna happen."

"And who’s going to stop us? You?" Pete laughed.

"Out of the way, boy. The town is ours," Brennen growled.

J.D. held his ground. The gunfighter smiled. He pulled back his coat to reveal a pearl handled gun.

There was a gasp from beside him. The gunfighter followed his team mate’s wide eyed stare. Chris Larabee stepped down into the street and strode out to stand next to J.D. Dressed in black, his face hard and emotionless, Larabee looked as frightening as ever.

The Seven’s leader nodded to the youth and the boy moved off to take up his position.

"You're drunk, Larabee," Brennen laughed, noticing the putrid smell of whisky filling the air surrounding his nemesis. "You aren't any match for us."

"Maybe," Chris hissed. Last time Larabee had said that, he’d had six men standing behind him.

"Give it up," Brennen insisted. "You've hit rock bottom. Your sharpshooter is dead, thanks to you. Your friend Wilmington deserted you and left you to hang. The gambler ran out, but then, that was no surprise. The preacher’s gone off in search of ‘spiritual cleansing’. The healer has departed to be with his girlfriend. That just leaves you and the boy."

"That's not strictly true!" a very familiar and full-throated voice shouted. Buck Wilmington stepped out from behind Vin’s wagon. "You fellas miscalculated."

"So there are three of you," Brennen laughed.

Movement on the opposite side of the street as a dark skinned man rose up from behind a barrel. "You miscalculated badly," Nathan agreed.

"I fear, such a mistake is going to prove costly," Ezra claimed, stepping out of the alley beside the Clarion News.

"Amen to that Brothers!" Chris’ men had effectively encircled their opposition, just as they always did when the town was threatened by a mob. No, none of them had left J.D. on his own to defend their town.

All eyes - Brennen and his men’s and the citizens’ of Four Corners who were peering out through their windows - launched skyward toward Potter’s store, everyone half expecting to see the young Texan appear as he normally would at this stage of a gun battle. Sadly, the roof was empty. Judge Travis closed his eyes in sorrow. While the other boys could return from hiding, Vin could not return from the grave. Travis had been right, he realized. The shocking tragedy that had led to the death of the Seven’s sharpshooter and tracker and not blasted the team apart. It had drawn them together. Here they were, stronger and more determined than ever. The Magnificent Six.

"One of you drugged my drink," Chris snarled.

"That’s right, but we never dreamed that it would be so effective. We thought that it would make you draw on one of us." The nine men had been frustrated by the Seven’s failure to be forced into battle. Even after their sharpshooter had broken Tanner’s ribs, the Seven still didn’t retaliate. And so their enemy had been forced to try something more drastic. "But gunning down your best friend? What a bastard!"

Chris Larabee’s jaw clenched. "Who hired you?"

"Let’s just say that Mr. James is sick of his cows having to travel around all of the homesteads that are springing up around Four Corners."

"James," just as the Seven had suspected from the beginning. Stuart James. A large cattle Baron who had tangled with the town in the past.

"Tell your men to stand down, Larabee, or they are going to die. Your little victory has been short lived. You tricked us into believing you’d disbanded. Congratulations, but it changes nothing. We still have your measure. We’ve studied you. We know your methods. We know how to out think you!"

"But you haven’t yet," Ezra pointed out. "As a matter of fact, you are yet to do so."

The leader of James’ band of assassins never took his eyes from Chris Larabee. "The six of you are still worthy opponents. You are excellent shots, but in a situation like this, you need to own the high ground. And you don’t anymore." The gunfighter stopped and grinned. "We do."

Absentmindedly, Brennen flicked his eyes upward. Chris followed the momentary gaze. He spotted the end of a rifle sticking out less than an inch through the curtains on the second floor of the boarding house. There he was! That’s what the Seven had been waiting for. Unwittingly, James’ men had given away their sharpshooter’s position. Chris Larabee glanced back at his mounted counterpart and he smiled. Not the grimace or snarl that usually passed for Chris’ smile. This was a full smile of satisfaction.

"What the hell are you grinning at Larabee, you’re about to..." A shot echoed over the town. A body spilled from the second floor window of the boarding house. James’ men stared dumbfounded as their sharpshooter crashed to the dusty street below. Everyone’s eyes shot skyward. To the stupefaction of Brennen’s men and astonishment of Four Corner’s citizens, Vin Tanner stepped out from behind the sign on top of Potter’s store and tipped his hat.

"Sorry I'm late, boys. Couldn't find the bastard." The young tracker smiled and glanced at Brennen. "Thanks for pointing him out to Chris." Vin hadn’t been able to see Brennen’s face, but then, he’d never actually been watching him. He had kept his attention on Larabee. The moment Chris had flicked his eyes to the second storey of the boarding house, Vin knew where his quarry was hiding. It was the signal he had been waiting for. All of the Seven had been searching for the missing sharpshooter and knew to inform Larabee so that he could signal Vin of his counterpart’s position.

Without warning, loud cheers rose up from behind the locked windows and doors of the small buildings that lined the street. Vin was alive... and the Seven were back!

Ezra Standish glanced up at the young sharpshooter who appeared genuinely surprised by the muffled shouts of "Vin’s alive!" "Thank the Lord!" "Tanner’s not dead!" "The Seven are back!" The gambler grinned. That we are, my friends, but then, we never went anywhere.

Vin flicked his shocked eyes to his leader, who simply winked at him.

"We missed ya, Vin," Buck laughed.

"Now," Chris stated, his face darkening as he returned his attention to Brennen and the rest of James’ men. "Why don’t you tell your men to step down." Larabee pushed back his duster on the right side.

Brennen glanced first to his right and then to his left. His men were moving nervously in their saddles. They had all seen the Seven in action in this type of situation and none of them had ever come across a more efficient group of men. "You don't want to do this, Brennen. Believe me, we ain’t in a good mood today. Boys."

The Seven raised their rifles, but not at their counterparts. James’ men had studied one member of the Seven each. They knew how that one man thought and how he reacted. But that left six that they didn’t have any advantage over. And thus, Ezra aimed his rifle at Buck’s mark. Buck at Josiah’s mark. Nathan at J.D.’s mark and so on.

"We still out-number you!" Brennen shouted desperately. The other gunfighter in their group made the mistake of reaching for his weapon. J.D. Dunne was not as fast on the draw, but he had been allocated that man to mark and the moment the gunfighter had flexed his hand, the youth had fired. The second man hired to counter Chris Larabee, tumbled from the saddle and gripped his bleeding chest.

"You don’t outnumber us any more," Chris snarled.

"Seven on seven," Josiah pointed out.

"Reckon that sounds fair," Buck agreed.

"What are the odds, Ezra?" Nathan asked.

"I do believe that they are in our favor. After all," Ezra’s face split with a smile of contentment, "we own the high ground. Mr. Tanner, how many do you think you can take out before they can get off their horses and find cover?"

"At least three, maybe four," the Texan stated with confidence.

"And between the rest of us we should eliminate at least two before they successfully find shelter from our bullets. So..."

"So that just leaves you and me, Brennen." Chris Larabee grinned. Darren Brennen swallowed. There was no way he wanted to go head to head with Chris Larabee on his own. With a second gunfighter at his side, yes - on his own, no.

"Alright, I’m throwing down my gun," Brennen called. Chris’ grin matured into an amused smile. He trusted this man to relinquish his weapon about as much as he trusted Buck to go for a week without flirting with a woman. There was a click from above as Vin cocked his rifle. Brennen glanced up and found himself the target of the professional sharpshooter’s first shot.

"Reckon I’d take that gun out real slow," Vin drawled. "I’m a bit jumpy, what with comin’ back from the dead an’ all."

Alistair was very aware that his mark’s attention was focused elsewhere. Time to make his move. "Now!" he shouted. The street resounded with the echo of fourteen barking guns. In seconds, the battle was over.

"Boys?" Chris shouted urgently. He needed to know that his men were all safe.

"Yep," Josiah called, striding out into the middle of the street.

"I’m in one piece," Nathan reported, stepping out from behind his barrel.

"God that felt good! Didn’t I tell ya that all we had to do was blow their &*%$#ing heads off!"

"J.D.?" Chris inquired.

"Over here, Chris. I’m fine." Larabee smiled. He was proud of the youth. It had taken real guts to walk out into the middle of the street and face down eight men - real guts and a hell of a lot of self-control. "Well done, Son." J.D. beamed with pride. Chris didn’t often give out compliments, but when he did, he really meant them.

"If anyone is interested, I appear to have torn my jacket," Ezra snapped with apparent disgust. That only left one more man to report his condition. The rest of the Seven waited. The seconds ticked by.

Vin Tanner appeared out of the alley beside Potter’s store. "Hell of a rush!" the young Texan called grinning.

Chris walked up to his best friend and their arms snapped together in a full forearm shake. It was a symbol of the brotherhood they shared. Chris allowed his relief out in a long expelled breath. He hadn't laid eyes on Vin since the ‘shooting’ and while he had known it was all a farce, seeing Vin fall and covered in blood had been his worst nightmare enacted right in front of his face.

"Can’t believe they fell for it," Vin muttered, dropping Chris’ arm. He had argued against the idea of Chris shooting him, claiming that if their enemy knew the Seven as well as Ezra insisted they did, then they would never believe that Chris would shoot any of them. "Can’t believe they thought you could shoot one of us," Vin murmured, eyeing the bleeding men who the others were shepherding toward the jail.

"Oh, I could shoot one of you. Most of you, as a matter of fact. Hell, the thought crosses my mind at least a couple times a week," Chris insisted earnestly.

"No, Cowboy. You couldn’t." Vin Tanner sounded certain.

Chris patted Vin’s shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection. Thank, God, they don’t know me as well as you do, pard.

"Shit, Chris, how can you stand the smell of yourself? You’re makin’ me gag!"

Chris opened his mouth to comment, when the doors of Four Corners all seemed to explode open at once, and the citizens of the town swarmed into the street. Before either man knew what was happening, Vin had been mobbed.

Everyone was yelling his name, trying to hug, kiss or shake his hand. Chris stood for a couple of seconds stunned as he was literally bustled out of the way. He watched as Vin’s cheeks went crimson with embarrassment.

The rest of the Seven reappeared and burst out laughing. "Yep, they definitely missed ya, Vin," Buck laughed. But when Miss Angela, Miss Martha and Miss Jane all flocked the astounded tracker and began smothering the blushing young man with kisses, Buck’s smile became a thoughtful pout. He strode down to stand next to Chris who had a half-smile on his face.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Buck?"

"Next time one of us has to pretend to take a bullet, can it be me? Please?" Chris Larabee’s face split with an amused smile.

Nathan appeared. "I think Vin needs rescuing. Them ribs of his are probably getting a pounding in there."

Chris glanced from Buck to Nathan and then back at the center of everyone’s attention. The mild embarrassment on Vin’s face and been replaced by a full flush and dilated pupils as claustrophobia set in. Vin Tanner didn’t like being hemmed in, couldn’t endure crowds, and he hated being on show.

The Seven’s leader reacted immediately. "Alright, everyone back. NOW!"

The crowd did so. Despite their euphoria at discovering that the young peacekeeper they all liked so much was alive, no one was prepared to ignore an order from Chris Larabee. Well, almost no one. Nettie Wells, who had not been able to force her way through the mob to the young man she now openly admitted to loving like a son, leaped forward. But unlike the rest of Four Corners’ citizens who were quickly dispersing, she was not trying to hug the young tracker. She was trying to beat him to death with her fists.

Vin ducked under the barrage. "Nettie... Nettie... Aww, hell, Nettie!"

"You selfish young bushwhacker! I thought you were dead! Almost killed me to think that you had been killed!" With every word came a rap of the elderly woman’s boney knuckles. Thankfully, she hadn’t actually been in town when Chris had gunned Vin down.

"Nope, ain’t no way we can rescue him now. The boy’s doomed." Buck laughed watching as Vin tried to protect both his head and tender chest from the blows that continued to rain down on him.

"Easy there, Miss Nettie, Vin’s got a broken rib," Nathan called in his friend’s defence.

Nettie Wells froze and then rapped her arms around the slight tracker and began to sob out her relief.

"It’s okay, Nettie. I’m fine... Aww, hell, don’t cry."

"I thought I’d lost you," Nettie whispered pulling away from him.

"I’m real sorry. I wanted the boys to tell ya, but Ezra said..."

"Ezra! So it was his idea, I should of known!" Nettie spun around.

Ezra Standish began backing away. "Now, Ms Wells, calm yourself. Having Mr. Larabee appear to gun Mr. Tanner down was a masterstroke if I do say so myself."

"And obviously you do," the elderly woman growled.

"Yes, well, you see..."

"You could have told me. An old bird like me - my heart could have stopped from the shock."

"First of all, Ms Wells, it was important that our enemies believed that Mr. Tanner had indeed passed on and thus we knew they would be watching the reactions of those who cared about him the most. Had we told you, or anyone else, for that matter, you would not have reacted so believably. And second, your heart is probably stronger than mine so I doubt we were in any danger of it stopping."

"You cheeky whippersnapper," Nettie scolded before turning back to Vin and slipping her arm around his waist. She couldn’t really be angry at the moment. Like everyone else, she was just too damned pleased to see that Vin’s death had all been a terrible mistake - just as she had prayed.

Mary stepped forward, her own cheeks scarlet with rage directed at a certain well-dressed Southern gentleman. "Mrs. Travis," Ezra yelped once again retreating.

"Why?"

"For the same reason I just explained to Ms Wells."

"That’s not what I mean. The last of those men left two days ago, why didn’t you tell us then? Why did you keep acting out this cruel charade?"

Ezra smiled. "That is an excellent question, is it not, Mr. Carter?" Everyone’s eyes turned to Dan Carter who was standing off at the edge of the now almost empty street. He was the lay-about who got by doing odd jobs for the people of the town.

"Huh?"

"You see, Mr. Carter works for Mr. James and has kept our enemy well informed of everything that has been happening since the rest of his companions left town."

Josiah walked over and draped his huge arm across Carter’s shoulders. "How you doin’ there, Brother?" Carter swallowed. "Would you mind going and waiting for us in the jailhouse?"

"I...I..." Carter stammered.

"It would make me real happy," Josiah added, painfully applying enough pressure so that the smaller man realized that it would be beneficial to his health if he complied.

"Sure." With that Dan Carter scurried toward the sheriff’s office and disappeared inside.

"You got the keys, J.D?" Chris inquired. The last thing they wanted was Carter letting the rest of James’ boys out of their cells, of course most of them were wounded and probably wouldn’t be able to get far anyway.

Mary frowned. Now that she thought about it, Carter had been across the street when J.D. and Buck had had their fight on the jailhouse porch. He had been in the saloon when Josiah had announced he was leaving. He had been there in the background the entire time.

"We knew that Carter was working for whoever had set this up, because Nathan had seen him rushing over to inform Brennen that Josiah had out-debated Father Bob," Buck explained.

"So we knew that we had to keep the act up, if we wanted to find out who had set us up and why," J.D. finished.

Mary was shaking her head trying to get her mind around all that had happened. "But I saw Chris shoot Vin! He bled so much," Mary argued.

"No, Ma’am. It was goat’s blood," Vin explained.

"What?" Mary asked.

The puppet master smiled. It was time to explain just how the Seven had pulled off what Ezra had decided to dub, ‘the con of the century’.