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’.

"You see, Mr. Dunne saw Dr. Merrit put something into that bottle of whisky Brennen slammed down on the table in front of Chris when he..." ...when he had goaded Chris by claiming that the gunfighter was about to fail his family again. Once the young sheriff and the others had calmed Chris, J.D. had quickly explained what he had seen. Ezra had been sent for and in an amazing sleight of hand, the gambler, with the aid of Buck and Josiah, had switched an uncontaminated bottle of whisky for the drugged one. Then the con man had distracted James’ men while J.D. searched Dr. Merrit’s bag and found the small green bottle that contained whatever it was they had slipped into Chris’ drink. While the scientific name had meant little to the youth, the warning on the bottle was all that was needed. WARNING: This is a powerful hallucinogenic. Do not take with alcohol!

"I realized that we had them on the run. They wanted Mr. Larabee to lose control, I just decided to ensure it would be to our benefit," Ezra explained. "It was time for us to start dictating terms!"

Ezra Standish had been remarkably pleased when J.D. had reported his finding because it had given him an opportunity to hatch his ‘master plan.’ Returning to Chris, the gambler had explained his idea in detail and got the gunfighter’s approval. Then Ezra had defined the scheme to Josiah, Buck and J.D., leaving Chris to begin his apparent downward spiral into drugged hell. Once the others knew what to do, Ezra had slipped out of town and headed for the Doyle’s cabin to explain the situation to Vin and Nathan. Surprisingly, it had been the tracker who had been the most difficult to convince, but finally he had come around.

Nathan and Vin then stayed at the Doyle’s for several hours, while Ezra returned to town. The healer and tracker killed two goats and collected the blood, which would be instrumental in convincing everyone that Vin had been killed. By the time Vin and Nathan returned, Ezra had slipped Chris a couple of blanks for his revolver and Chris was doing a damn convincing job of acting like a man about to explode. And so the scene had been set.

Once Chris had shot Vin, Nathan and Ezra had rushed in and tipped the goat’s blood over their team mate before anyone else had a chance to check on the tracker’s condition. It had all worked beautifully.

"Dr Merrit saw all of the blood and assumed that the bullet had struck an artery," Nathan explained. "I rolled Vin toward me to stop anyone seeing that there wasn’t actually a wound."

"Yeah, and you almost killed me," Vin grinned rubbing his ribs. Nathan smiled. He had tried to be as gentle as he could, but he had felt Vin’s body unconsciously stiffen as extra pressure had been placed on his injured chest.

"But the funeral?" Nettie asked. "Was that really necessary?"

"That wasn’t exactly our fault," Ezra pointed out. "We had assumed that Chris gunning Vin down would have forced our enemy’s hand, but instead, they left town. I must admit I was a little confused, but Dr Merrit and Father Bob remained so we just kept up the act knowing that sooner or later they would have to reveal to us what was going on. As for the funeral, that was Mrs. Travis’ idea. Then again, I suppose it was necessary considering Vin was presumed to be dead."

"Can’t believe I was the only one that missed the funeral," Vin grumbled. He had been locked in Buck’s room.

"A man doesn’t usually attend his own funeral, Vin," Chris chuckled.

"I hear Josiah gave a hell of a eulogy," Vin stated slyly.

Josiah grinned.

"Yes, it was somewhat unique," Ezra agreed laughing.

Judge Travis watched as the men slowly released their tension in the form of jokes and laughter. They had endured hell and come out on top.

"Actually," Ezra insisted, "we are all quite accomplished actors. I mean Vin’s death scene would have got a standing ovation at any theatre in the world. Mr. Dunne’s shock was brilliant. Mr. Wilmington’s tears, heart-wrenching. Mr. Jackson’s helpless frustration, perfect. Mr. Sanchez’s anguish, flawless and my own portrayal of guilt, outstanding!"

"If you don’t say so yourself," Vin muttered.

Ignoring the tracker’s rude comment, Ezra continued. "And as for the funeral scene - when Mr. Larabee asked who had died, I almost burst into tears myself. By the way, Mr. Sanchez, how is your faith?" That had been one hell of an act.

"Ain’t never been stronger, Ezra," Josiah boomed. Every word he had spoken that day had gone against the grain, particularly when he had renounced his faith, but it had all been part of Ezra’s elaborate plan - the Lord knew what was in Josiah’s heart.

"Well, you all fooled me," Mary muttered.

"We needed to," Chris explained softly. "You, Nettie and Casey were the people they were watching the closest. If you hadn’t reacted they way they expected, then they would have been suspicious." Everyone became quiet. Hurting their friends had not been their intention, but it had been a necessity if the men were to successfully survive and ultimately protect the town.

"Hey, Ezra, what about my actin’ skills?" Vin demanded, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Your acting skills?! Falling down and shutting your eyes?!"

"Yeah."

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, Mr. Tanner, but your acting skills are non-existent. I doubt that you would be able to convince a half-wit drunk that you are a tracker!"

"But I am a tracker."

"Exactly."

"I reckon I was pretty convincing." Vin claimed, looking to Chris for support.

You had me worried. For a split second, even though Chris had known that he had definitely loaded the blanks, there had been a stirring in the pit of his stomach when Vin had fallen. The thought that just maybe, somehow real bullets could have... it was stupid, he knew, but for a single gut-wrenching moment, Chris had considered just what could have happened if somehow he had made a mistake.

I weren’t worried, Cowboy. Vin grinned.

"But you were so drunk," Casey cried suddenly, her nose wrinkling at the strong smell of whisky that still emanated from the Seven’s leader.

"Naww, Casey. Chris just soaked his clothes in whisky and Nathan gave him some stuff to rub in his eyes to make’em red," J.D. explained with authority.

"I think congratulations are in order," Judge Travis stated. "You were able to outwit the most insidious scheme to break the spirit of a group that I have come across in fifty years. And I have come across a few of them."

Chris glanced at the Judge and then at his men. "The congratulations are a little premature, Judge. We have yet to bring down the man who instigated our downfall, but the fact that we did defeat our enemy this time is thanks to Ezra." The gambler looked shocked. He had never heard Chris speak so emotionally and he certainly hadn’t been expecting commendation for performing, what he saw, as his role in the Seven. It was up to him to provide his companions with the insight they required to successfully negotiate obstacles placed in their path. Just as it was J.D.’s role to maintain the group’s morale through his enthusiasm and Chris’ role to direct them with a certainty and strength that all of the men respected. "If it hadn’t been for Ezra realizing what was going on and ensuring that we didn’t just rush in and..."

"...blow their *&%$#ing heads off," Buck put in laughing.

"Exactly. If it hadn’t been for Ezra’s insight, Josiah may well have been officiating at a real funeral. Probably a couple of them," Chris finished nodding his head to Ezra in silent thanks.

Ezra Standish smiled and tipped his hat. "Does this mean, that from now on, my opinion will be valued a little more highly? For if so, I would like to take this opportunity to suggest that a gifted man such as myself should remain in town in readiness to identify any future devious plans that may be directed at us and that rewarding vocations such as evening patrols in sub-zero temperatures, escorting the stage in driving rain, assisting our neighbors repair fences while dodging enraged bulls, guarding prisoners for hours on end and other such enjoyable experiences should be left to...."

"Shut-up, Ezra!" Buck, Nathan, Josiah and J.D. cried simultaneously.

"So what are you going to do about James?" The Judge inquired.

"Now, this is just my opinion," Buck stated scratching his mustache thoughtfully, "but I honestly believe that this is one of those times when shooting someone’s *&%$#ing head off would be appropriate."

"Amen, Brother."

"Actually, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra stated smiling. "I’m inclined to agree with you and to tell you the truth, that scares the hell out of me."

"Chris?" J.D. asked, noting the pensive expression on his leader’s face.

"Judge, based on what you’ve seen, if we can get those men in jail to testify, could you put James away?"

Judge Travis smiled. "Absolutely."

"If you kill the leader in a wolf pack, another takes his place," Vin interrupted thoughtfully.

"Awww, come on, Vin," Buck argued. "We’ve been waiting for months to take James down."

"Yeah, but if we do, his son takes over." This silenced the men. James’ eldest boy was twice as power hungry as his father, but he lacked his father’s restraint. "Peter James is just crazy enough to declare war on the town if he’s left in charge. At least his father, as much of a bastard as he is, has enough sense to be wary of us."

"That’s a good point , Vin," Nathan agreed.

"James Senior is the lesser of two evils," Josiah admitted.

"Hey, wait a minute. So are you saying that we are just gonna to let him get away with it?!" J.D. cried incredulously.

Chris Larabee pursed his lips. "I think maybe we might go for a ride out there, boys. Pay Mr. James a friendly visit."

"Now that sounds like a real good plan to me," Buck howled with delight, turning ready to set off and do so immediately.

"Wait a minute. Mr Larabee, I am not...."

Buck leaped back to Ezra’s side and clamped his hand over the gambler’s mouth. "Ezra was just going to say that he thinks that riding out to James’ ranch and belting the shit out of that bastard, his son and anyone else who opens their mouth is a BRILLIANT idea! He’s all for it, aren’t you Ez?! ‘Cause if ya ain’t, I’m gonna shoot ya!"

**********

Buck thoroughly enjoyed the brawl with James’ men. So, for that matter, did the rest of the Seven. They all had a great deal of unvented energy to release. The free-for-all was most invigorating. J.D.’s nose was bloody. Ezra had a large cut on the side of his head. One of Nathan’s eyes was almost swollen shut. Buck had dislocated a finger. Chris was sporting a wrenched shoulder, Josiah a loose tooth and Vin some very bruised ribs to go with his broken one.

Stuart James stared at his captured cowhands who had outnumbered the Seven almost three to one. They now lay broken and bloody at the feet of the Larabee gang who had participated in the altercation with gleeful eagerness.

"Mr. James," Chris snarled, drawing his revolver for the first time. His men followed suit, covering the fallen cowhands. "You and I need to talk."

"What right do you have coming out here and assaulting my hard working men?!"

Chris allowed an amused snarl to cross his face. "The nine men you hired, along with Carter are in jail and every one of them has already spoken to Judge Travis and promised to testify that you paid them to kill us."

James licked his lips. "Can we talk about this? I could offer you more money than any of you have ever seen."

"Now, Mr. James, we’ve had this conversation before. We aren’t for sale," Chris growled.

"You appear somewhat startled, Mr. James," Ezra stated, stepping up to stand beside his leader. "You shouldn’t be. Your plan was outstanding. I would even go so far as to say brilliant, but you made one fatal error. You hired men who were equal in skill to each of us. You even ensured we were outnumbered. But you hired nine individuals. We are not seven individuals, we are one team. So, you see, you never really had a chance. You marked us man for man, but we don’t operate as separate entities any more, rather as a singular unit that thinks, acts and moves as one. For we have leadership, and enthusiasm, and insight, and compassion, and humility, and loyalty, and courage - but more than anything else, we have friendship and that is a strength that the likes of you, Mr. James, will never be able to understand nor conquer." Ezra’s voice broke with passion at the end. Chris reached out and squeezed the emotional gambler’s shoulder.

"Of course, if you ever try something like this again," Chris growled releasing Ezra and walking up to James so that he was standing less than an inch from the cattleman’s face, "I’m going to make it my personal business to hunt you down and kill you. Do we understand each other?" James swallowed, stepped back and nodded. "Good. Boys, let’s go home."

**********

On the short trip back to Four Corners there was a great deal of moaning and groaning as the adrenaline that had sustained the Seven earlier wore off and their injuries suddenly became the focus of their attention.

"I do believe that I am actually seeing stars," Ezra complained.

"Shit, my nose won’t stop bleeding!"

"Nathan, will my finger be loose now and keep popping out? Damn it hurts."

"I can feel my tooth wiggling, you have a look Nathan."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that, Josiah? My eye is completely swollen shut!" The five men continued to complain to each other, each insisting that their particular injury was worse and more serious and painful then anybody else’s.

The two riders at the front of the group, however, were quiet. "How’s your shoulder, Chris?" Vin asked softly.

Larabee simply grunted. "Your ribs?"

"Fine. You reckon James will calm down a bit?"

"For a while." Vin nodded and reached for his chest with his right hand. "Vin?"

"Just a bit stiff, Chris. I tell ya, I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep." Larabee smiled at his tired looking friend. I’ll bet you are. He knew that the young tracker had had little sleep in the past week.

**********

The Seven arrived back in Four Corners right in the middle of an attempted bank robbery. The four robbers burst out of the bank just as the Seven had dismounted and were heading for the bathhouse to soak their weary bodies. Bullets filled the air, but the robbers were quickly apprehended.

"Well, it’s nice to be home," Josiah chuckled as he attempted to remove the gun from his bleeding captive. The gunman struggled and the weapon went off.

Ezra, who was just walking out from his place of concealment ducked instinctively as did the rest of his colleagues. He glanced to his left and gasped. Vin clutched his chest and staggered into the barn.

"Oh, God! Vin’s been hit! Nathan!" Ezra shouted sprinting toward the livery. Just inside the door, Ezra found Vin laying on his side, panting softly as he struggled to gain his breath, both hands stapled to his chest.

Ezra dropped beside his companion and gently eased Vin into his arms. "Hold on my friend, I’m here. Nathan is coming." Ezra reached out to remove Vin’s fingers so that he could examine the wound. Abruptly, Vin who had been panting, became still.

The tracker’s eyes flicked to Ezra and his face flushed with triumph. "Couldn’t convince a half-wit drunk that I was a tracker!"

Ezra froze as his mind tried to fathom what had happened and then he exploded, shoving Vin off his lap. "You!... You!... You malevolent viper!" The gambler’s face had gone white. Not exactly the response that Vin had expected. Buck and Nathan jogged into the livery, their faces puzzled. The accidental shot had struck the wall outside of Potter’s so what the hell was Ezra going on about Vin being hit? Seeing that Vin was okay the two shrugged and left. Ezra glanced after his retreating associates and then looked back at the tracker whose face had clouded with guilt.

"Sorry, Ez, I didn’t mean to scare ya. I was just joshin’. You okay?"

Ezra stared at the concerned look on his apologetic companion’s face and then self-preservation kicked in. "I knew it from the beginning, but obviously I had you fooled, my untalented friend!" Vin stared at Ezra, his haunting blue eyes seeing straight through to the truth. Ezra snorted. "Yes, well, I... " And then the gambler sighed as emotion tripped even his supple tongue.

"Sorry Ez."

Ezra smiled. "No, I deserved it and I stand corrected. You fall and close your eyes very convincingly, Mr. Tanner." Vin returned Ezra’s smile and two men left the barn to join their waiting companions.

"Everything okay?" Chris demanded. He had heard Ezra’s cry but knew that Vin was fine because he had done a head count when the robbers had been apprehended and he knew that the final bullet hadn’t gone anywhere near the young tracker.

"Everything is fine, my friend."

Judge Travis appeared. The Seven looked very, very tired. Clearly, the past few days had finally caught up with them. The wily old man smiled. "I’m afraid I have to leave. I was kinda hopin’ you gentlemen would consider stickin’ around for thirty days, keep an eye on things until I get back. I’d be willing to pay."

The faces of the Seven relaxed as their minds were dragged back to the first time Judge Orin Travis had uttered those words and effectively changed their lives forever.

Buck Wilmington grinned. "How much?"

"Dollar a day. Room and board." Travis flicked his eyes to J.D. "How about you young sheriff, are you willing to take a cut in pay?"

"I’m in if everyone else is," J.D. nodded, grinning as he recalled that fateful day three months earlier when he had spoken exactly the same words.

"It is a pity that I, as a convicted felon, will be unable to lend my services," Ezra stated seriously.

"Well how about if you got a pardon?" Travis asked.

"Where do I sign?" Ezra drawled happily.

"Man is gonna stay pretty busy in a town like this," Josiah reflected glancing at Nathan.

"I figure you men are gonna be gettin’ shot. I might as well stick around," the healer declared.

All eyes moved to Buck. "Few woman around here I ain’t acquainted with," Buck mused.

"That ain’t true no more," J.D. giggled.

"You in the back there," the Judge called to Vin. "You interested?"

"Got some things need takin’ care of. Guess they’ll keep," Vin stated, his tired face lighting up with amusement as he added the words that had initially brought him to this point in his life - no longer alone, but with six men willing to stand beside him no matter what the odds.

"Chris?" the Judge asked.

Larabee smiled. "I’ve got a feelin’ I’m gonna regret this."

Judge Travis nodded, his eyes sweeping the men in front of him. "Looks like I’ve got myself seven,"

"No, Judge," Ezra corrected. "Just one. One team."

Orin Travis nodded.

Seven men.

One team.