[Casale house, 8:53PM]

>"Good job, Agent Callaway." Paul continued as he looked
>at Kate. "You've caught your man, we'll take over from her,
>while you go see to your injured team member."
>
>"He's our prisoner!" Flynn frowned.
>
>"And he needs medical attention," September insisted.
>
>"Oh he'll get it, I assure you," Paul said smoothly, "But this
>is after all a police matter now. You've done your jobs. You
>should be proud of yourselves."

The team headed for their cars. There was no point in arguing - Paul was right. It was a police matter now and they should be with Sharlyn. From the tone of voice of the nurse who had called, it sounded very serious, Kate thought. Then she froze and looked back to where Paul and the other officers were putting Narrin in one of the squad cars.

Kate looked over at Newt, who was beaming with pride at a job well done. "I’m assuming you’re the one who called him," she said.

Newt’s expression changed and he nodded.

"It was the right thing to do," she said. "Did you tell him about Sharlyn?"

"No. I didn’t have a chance. When I talked to him, I didn’t know yet."

"Then how did he know," September asked.

Kate nodded. "Exactly what I was wondering."

Newt sighed, trying a little too hard not to sound exasperated. "Someone from the hospital probably called him," he said.

"Maybe," Kate said. At the moment, explaining to him that Docker had told the nurse to call her, not Paul, would probably do more harm than good, she decided. "Let’s get going."

*****

[Dade County Memorial Hospital, 9:12PM]

The expression on the face of the nurse on duty in the ER had done nothing to raise anyone’s hopes. "Have a seat in the waiting room," she’d said. "The doctor will be out to talk to you in a few minutes."

Kate had waited as long as she could stand - a couple of minutes - but there were too many people in the waiting room, too much noise and activity, and the headache she’d had earlier in the day was coming back full force. So she’d asked the nurse if the hospital had a chapel and if the doctor could speak to her there and slipped away from the crowd.

Religion hadn’t played a big part in her upbringing, but this seemed an appropriate place to be at the moment. She didn't pray exactly, she wasn’t sure where to begin, but she sat quietly, trying not to feel too sorry for herself - when she thought about it, she really had it pretty good, but so much had gone wrong in the last few days, it was hard not to ask that question. She also tried not to speculate on what it would be like to lose someone under her command. She could cross that bridge if she came to it. Although from every indication, "if" was no longer a factor.

"Agent Calloway," a voice asked from behind her.

Kate took a deep breath before she turned around to see a man in scrubs standing at the back of the chapel. When she acknowledged him, he came forward. His face was unreadable.

"I’m Dr. Scott," he said. "Agent Robins is in ICU. We’ve done everything we can for her. Now all we can do is wait."

Kate looked at him for a long moment, trying to read between the lines, but it was clear he’d done this enough times to have mastered the art. "Will she recover," Kate asked in the tone she usually reserved for particularly stubborn suspects, in hopes that she was better at getting information than Scott was at keeping it to himself.

"It’s possible."

"Likely?"

Dr. Scott shook his head. "No. She’s strong, but I don’t believe there’s any coming back from her injuries. Her body just hasn’t gotten the message yet. If you want to see her, you should do it now. Also, if there’s anyone else we should notify.."

Kate shook her head and cut him off. "No," she said, "the Bureau will handle notification. Where is the ICU located?"

*****

Newt, September and Flynn were waiting near the intensive care ward when Kate got there. All three looked at her expectantly.

"The doctor told us she was here, but nothing more," September said.

"It’s not good," Kate said. She took Flynn aside. "Her family is in Ohio," she told him. "Columbus, I think. One of us should be there."

"I’ll be on the next flight," he answered.

"Thank you," Kate said. "I’ll call you when.. when we know more."

Flynn started to step away then turned back. "Don’t blame yourself," he told her. "It’s not your fault."

Kate nodded and smiled, a little weakly. "Maybe. Now get moving."

At some point, the rules in ICU apparently changed - at the point where it no longer matters if the visitors are family or if they go in one at a time. And apparently, Sharlyn had reached that point, because when the three remaining agents went in, no one tried to stop them. She was unconscious and unresponsive. Fifteen minutes later, she flat-lined. Resuscitation efforts failed.

*****

[the hotel, 12:40AM]

"Where did they get their information?"

That question buzzed through Paul's mind as he made his way to Kate's room. They must have gotten some outside help, and she was going to tell him from whom. Oh yes... she WOULD tell him, no matter how long it took him to get it from her and what he would have to do to get it from her.

Pushing past some poor hotel worker pushing a dinner cart, Paul made his way down the hall to where Kate was resting. Not caring who was around, Paul started pounding on the door. The hotel waiter only glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

- * - * - * -

[Kate's room]

Kate had lain down to rest a bit before the team’s early flight back to DC. The shock of the past few days in Miami and Sharlyn’s death, the dissension Paul had caused in the team and the things she had found out had finally caught up with her and she was just plain exhausted, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She had turned the radio on low to ward off the oppressive silence Sleep had just taken a hold of her when something on the radio caught her attention. Still half asleep, the words didn’t quite come together for her. "Miami PD Detective Michael Narrin .. charges of assault and .. found hanged in his cell." In her exhaustion, none of it made sense. She closed her eyes and was just drifting off again when she heard someone pounding on her door.

"Why me?" she muttered, as she got up to see who it was. Looking through the peephole, she saw it was Paul and he was pissed about something. Just as her senses were about to come back to her, she saw him throw himself at the door.

At that moment, the door caved in towards her, throwing Kate into the room. Paul entered into the room and grabbed her arm.

"Who are you getting your intel from?" He growled, gripping her arm hard.

"What are you talking about?" Kate said, trying to wrestle herself away, but finding that his grip was as strong as ever.

"Don't give me that." Paul said as he released her arm, only to follow up with a punch to Kate's midsection. Kate felt the wind go out of her as she doubled over from the blow.

"God, he's going to kill me." Kate thought to herself as she tried to regain her breath.

Paul yanked her up by her hair and slapped her hard across her cheek, spinning Kate towards the windows in her room. She grabbed the chair and caught her balance, but Paul was coming at her again. "Where are you getting your information, Kate?"

The final months of her marraige to Paul shot through Kate's mind like a bad replay. It was like that day she left all over again, except that they were in Miami now. Her gun was on the side table next to the bed and she knew she would never get there in time.

"You could never fight me then, what makes you think you can now, Katie?" Paul sneered. His hand went around her throat and he squeezed, hard. "Now, before I get really mad, who's been giving you your info?"

"Me." said a voice behind Paul. Before he could react, someone grabbed him and pulled him away from her. Docker had one of his guns planted squarely in the back of Paul's head and his finger was itching to squeeze the trigger. "Don't you know that only wusses hit women? Are you a wuss, Moran?"

"Who are you? This is a private matter between Kate and myself." Paul said, a bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

"Someone you don't know, Moran." Docker said, watching as Kate leaned on the chair and rubbed her cheek where Paul had struck her, still trying to get her breathing back to normal. "And this isn't a private matter anymore."

"Hmmph." Paul said, "You're not going to shoot me. If you were, you'd do it by now. Just all talk, that's what you are."

With a smile, Docker lowered his gun. "Maybe your right," he said. He brought the gun up again, fast, and hit Paul on the chin with the grip. In the second or two before he lost consciousness, the look on Paul's face was priceless. Docker stood over him long enough to make sure he wasn’t going to move for a while. Then he turned to Kate. She stared at him for a moment, not quite focused yet.

"Thank you," she said finally.

Docker shrugged. "I would have preferred shooting him, but this’ll be easier for you to explain. I did what I could for Robins."

Kate nodded. "I know."

Newt and September appeared in the doorway. At a glance, September took in what had happened, but Newt was reaching for his gun. Kate shook her head. Reluctantly, Newt complied and put the gun away.

Docker grinned and started for the door. "Been nice doing business with you," he said as he brushed past Newt and September, "but next time, who knows which side I’ll be on."


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