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The Y-Files

Case File # 2407 - Blitzkrieg
Part V

From: Agent Mike Piontek

Johnson and I were on the road and I was running through scenarios in my head. I didn't have time to drive. I had a friend back home that could take me on a small private plane, but that seemed ridiculously out of the way, and I'd still be cutting it close. I pulled out my wallet and thumbed through it. In one out-of-the-way pocket I had a few things I liked to keep handy. I pulled out an ID. <<Hmm... Yeah, that'll do.>>

"Johnson, ever been to Jersey?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Yeah, me neither. I'm living there now though." He shot me a confused glance. I held up a New Jersey driver's license. "Doesn't quite look like me, but when do they ever? Got this, too." I pulled out a credit card with the same name. "Overkill, maybe, but you never know when someone's gonna ask for a second piece of ID at the wrong time."

"That isn't exactly FBI protocol," Johnson protested. He was grinning.

"Yeah, well, we do things a little differently in Detroit. I figure my best bet is to get some rest and fly to Kansas in the morning. I don't like to use these unless I have to, but we're running up a bad track record for keeping out of sight as it is." I rearranged a few things in my wallet. "I figure you can drop me off at the airport hotel and I'll stay there tonight. Sure you don't wanna come? It'll be loads of fun, I'm sure."

"I can't," Johnson explained, "I don't know what's in that locker, but I'm following some leads that may be vital once we get it. And you have a lot more leeway here... Skinner would have my neck if I skipped town unauthorized." This was a good point, I conceded. He did not seem like a guy you wanted to jerk around. Johnson added, "Are you sure you don't want to go back to the Edgar Hoover Building to pick up your car?"

"Nah, any trip back there is just another chance for someone to follow me."

"If they aren't already." Johnson adjusted the rearview mirror.

"Yeah." I was trying not to think about that. It seemed all too likely. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but it seemed likely that everyone on this case was being looked after by someone. "Alright," I told Johnson. "Say I do this: check in at the hotel under this name," I explained, holding up the Jersey ID. "If anyone is following us now, I'm sure they'll manage to get the name I check in under..."

"And figure out where you're headed once you book the flight..."

"So I book the flight under a different name. If someone's got their eye on me the whole time, it won't do me any good, but I'll do my best to stay out of sight."

"Alright, Piontek. Sounds like a plan."

"Dean. Edward Dean," I corrected. "And yeah, it's a plan. Just not a very good one," I admitted grimly. I sat for a moment thinking things over and pulled out my cell phone. "Walter Skinner, it's time to wake up to a very bad day," I muttered to myself. I might as well get it over with.

From: Sam Mcgee

"Hi," I said after he answered, "Eve Kendall. My meeting was a bust-- when can we get together to go over those notes?"

"Well, I'm right in the middle of something right now," he said, "but I can meet you in a couple of hours."

Damn, I thought. "That'll be fine," I told him. "Back at the Hoover Building?"

Johnson didn't answer right away. "Why don't we meet somewhere else. There's a place on G Street, near twelvth, called Toby's. I'll print off a copy of the field notes and we can grab something to eat. Think you can find it?"

"Sure," I said agreeably, feeling nothing of the sort. "I'll see you there." I pressed the 'end' button, and dropped the phone on the seat next to me. Now what did I do with that damned map...

*********************

With two hours to kill, I decided to go back to the Comity and change clothes--my shoes were killing my feet.

Walking down the hall towards my room, I got that strange vibe again. The corridor was empty, as had been the lobby and the elevator. But still... I shrugged it off as paranoia, an occupational hazard of the job--but, like they say at the Agency, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean somebody isn't out to get you. I drew my gun and entered my room. It was empty and apparently undisturbed, but there was a powerful sense of wrongness.

Someone had been in there.

I unlocked the door to the adjoining room (which was registered under a different name) and the bad vibes evaporated. Whoever had searched the first room hadn't considered searching this one. I changed my clothes and quickly packed my belongings.

If my meeting with Agent Johnson went as I expected it to, I wouldn't need to come back here anyway.

From: Sam Mcgee

Toby's turned out to be a small, mom and pop type tavern tucked in between an office building and a parking ramp. Agent Johnson wasn't there yet, so I sat at the oft-varnished oak bar and ordered a salty dog. Shake, lick, shoot, suck. I closed my eyes as the tequila burned pleasurably down my throat. I dropped the lime rind on the bar and ordered another. I was in the process of licking the salt off my hand when a man at the end of the bar got up and sat next to me. He watched as I tossed back the amber liquid and bit into the lime. I dropped the lime rind next to the first and turned to the man.

"Leave," I said simply. He started to say something, but then he looked into my eyes and blanched. He picked up his coat and scurried for the door.

"What did you say to that guy?"

It was Agent Johnson. He looked me over with a raised eyebrow. I had traded my darks for Levis, a canvas duck jacket and old cowboy boots.

"Nothing much," I told him. "Let's get a table."

I followed Johnson to a table in the corner. We ordered our food and Johnson handed me a file folder.

"Agent Jaythree's notes from the Boulder case," he said. "Agent Zeuty's notes were deleted."

I opened the folder and began to read.

I whistled softly. <satellites, bio-weapons and viruses, oh my!> Leah Straub *had* told them a thing or two. It was certainly more than Morley had told me.

Our food arrived and I ate as I read.

I looked at Johnson with wide-eyed incredulity. "Is this for real?" I asked. "I mean, if this is true that means the government--*our* government --is developing bioweapons for someone else and testing them on our own people."

I shook my head. "I don't want to believe that."

"Neither do I," Johnson agreed.

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes tiredly. "In the 'old days' a conspiracy involved a couple of businessmen, a bag of money, and somebody named Guido. Now..." I flapped my hand at the folder.

"But," I conceded, "it would explain why Straub and Kirby were killed-- and the way they were killed."

"Were you able to find out anything useful about the Straubs'?" Johnson asked.

"Not much," I answered, truthfully. "She and her husband were engineers working for NASA. Most of the projects they worked on were classified, so I didn't get much there. They appeared to be living within their means--their bank accounts jived with their salaries. There wasn't anything unusual about either one of them."

I straightened up in my chair. "Why were Jaythree and Zeuty shot?"

Johnson was caught off-guard by my sudden shift . "We don't have any clear leads yet, but the shootings appear to be connected to the Boulder case and yours." He seemed to want to say more, but something was holding him back.

"What about those keys?" I asked. "The FBI wants the evidence, we want the evidence--it's only logical that the bad guys would also want the evidence. So who has the keys? And where's that blasted locker?"

From: Agent Jadzia Reyes

My alarm clock went off far too soon after my phone call from Mulder. I was repacked and ready to meet the rest of our group within an hour, however.

I wasn't sure if Kiwi wanted to meet for breakfast or if we were grabbing something on the way and I headed over to Kiwi's room to find out. When she answered the door, it didn't look like Kiwi had gotten much more sleep that I had, and I could have sworn that she had a faint hangover. Her eyes were a little bit red and she seemed a bit cotton-mouthed. That was odd. It wasn't like Kiwi to drink while on a case.

"'Mornin' Kiwi. Just wondering if we're grabbing breakfast now or later".

"I'd like get to Wichita as soon as we can today. I thought we'd get something to go," Kiwi answered.

"Do you want me to tell Scham and Willmore?"

Kiwi shook her head. "Craig had to fly out to Seattle last night. His daughter was in a car accident".

"Is she okay?" I asked, concerned. Even as I asked, however, I found myself wondering if the car accident had really been an 'accident'. Coincidences did happen, but this seemed rather convenient and we were Y-Files agents after all.

Kiwi shook her head again. "I don't know. Craig didn't really say what condition she was in, and he hasn't called yet. Oh, and you'll love this Jadz -- Sara had a visitor last night".

<Oh $#^*. How could that have happened with Kiwi and I in rooms on either side of her?> I thought. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, but she's got a lovely bump on the head to show for it, and the guy took her copy of the key. Whoever the guy was, he's looking for the locker too".

"Huh . . . if it was one of Morley's goons, then why are we all still alive? It's not like him to just assault one us. He tends to favor bullets . . . and explosives". This new attack just didn't seem to fit Morley's M.O.; it didn't make sense.

Kiwi shrugged. "I don't know what to make of it either. But we'd better get to this locker first".

I nodded in agreement. "Alright. I'll be putting my stuff in the car. I'm ready when you guys are".

From: Agent Samuel Padilla

::Knock::Knock::Knock::

"Come in. It's open" I said. I had left my room's door open when I had to leave the room about an hour ago to go for some ice. Jadzia's figure appeared on the frame.

"Scham! What are you waiting for?"

"Ah?"

I was still lying on my bed, covered with a blanket.

"Why aren't you ready yet? We'll leave in any minute" She said approaching to the bed.

"Wha... What time is it?" I asked in confusion.

"Seven" she answered.

"Se... seven?!"

"Yeah. What are you..." she turned to see the TV on, then she turned again and stared at me.

"C'mon, it's Pulp Fiction, one of my favorites..." I said with a plead look on my eyes.

"Did you... Did you stayed awake the entire night?" She seemed surprised.

I nodded.

"Okay Scham, you've got 15 minutes. We'll see you at the parking lot." After saying this she left the room, closing the door behind her.

**********

A quick shower, no time for shaving. I left the room as fast as I could. Kiwi had already checked me out and I ran to the parking lot. Jadzia and Kiwi were waiting for me.

"Sorry" I said gasping for breath "Were's Sara?"

"Sleeping in the back seat" Kiwi said. I noticed there was something odd about her. Her eyes... and the big bottle of water she was holding.

"Kiwi did you-"

She cut me off "Time to go. Scham you're going with Jadzia. Sara's coming with me."

She turned round heading to the driver's door when she heard my voice and stopped: "Kiwi, did you?" She didn't say anything, just gave me a quick smile and entered the vehicle. Jadzia and I did too. She and Kiwi were driving. "You go first" I said to Kiwi from the window. After starting the engines, we began our way.

"Did you really stayed awake all night watching TV?" Jadzia asked me.

"Yes. C'mon Jadz it was a Bruce Willis marathon. I wouldn't have missed it for the world: Die Hard, The Last Boyscout, Pulp Fiction..."

"Just make sure you're able to stay awake during the day."

"Hey, we're agents assigned to the Y Files, remember? There's no problem about that". Both of us smiled.

We spent the following 30 minutes talking about what had happened to Sara and why Willmore had to leave.

From: Agent Mathew Johnson

I went to meet Kendall at a restaurant to talk about the case, and I left Piontek to talk to Skinner. He reminded me a lot of Zeuty. They both have that Detroit mentality which always reminded me of Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop. They both were very down to earth, brash, and gung-ho, but I admired that.

Piontek wanted to use another identity so as not to be followed. I didn't know who would be following any of us, but I guess it was better to be safe then sorry. I still didn't believe in any of this government conspiracy talk, and I was about to get more of it...

_______________________________________________________________

"I don't know too much about the keys," I said. That was a lie, but I promised Agent Malone I wouldn't reveal all. It still didn't make it easier to lie to this person.

"The keys are, no pun intended, the key to these cases. Leah Straub and Agent Zeuty were killed for these keys, and Agent Jaythree was shot for them. If you know anything else..." She could tell I was holding back, but I couldn't tell her everything.

<Why not?> I asked myself. <Why was everyone so damned paranoid. If there is a group of people powerful enough to do the things everyone says, then why haven't *they* found the locker? Why haven't they just killed us which would prevent us from finding it?> So many questions. I liked the Y-Files agents, but I just couldn't throw away everything I believed without evidence.

I looked at Ms. Kendall as she waited for my answer. <They can't be so powerful as to make up a brand new DOJ Agent. I can't in good conscious lie to a fellow government agent. She is after the same thing I'm after: justice."

"Agent Johnson," she said, "I know that some of your co-workers are paranoid, but I'm not one of the bad guys. I too work for the people, and I just want to help solve this case. Can you trust me?"

I looked down at my plate. I was torn between my duty and my promise, and both were very important to me. Could I trust her? If what they all say is true, then I can trust no one, but what kind of world is that to live in? I didn't want to raise my child in world full of distrust. The person on the other side of the table seemed to be just as sincere as I was. I can't go around distrusting everyone I see. <Sorry Agent Malone.>

"Ok. They found that the locker is somewhere in Wichita, Kansas, but they don't know where exactly in Wichita it is. Right know Agents Reyes, Malone, Pedilla, and Piontek are on the ways to Kansas, and I'm planning to join them." I wasn't going to tell her about Zeuty still be alive. I still felt it better that Ms. Kendall not no that. "Care to come with me?"

She hesitated. "I'd like to, but I don't think I can. I still have some leads to chase here. I'll try to contact you if I come up with anything else." She seemed very calm and focused, but I detected that she was impatient about something. She probably really wanted to go, and it was too bad she couldn't come. "I have to call the DOJ to tell them the situation. Would you excuse me?"

"Yes." She went back to make a call. <This was the right thing to do. I know it. Agent Malone will understand.>

Little did I know that I would come to regret my broken promise.

From: STUBRU

Samantha was still asleep as I heard the door open behind me. It was Dr. McKay who entered the room to check on Samantha.

"Hello Nathan", I whispered so I wouldn't wake Samantha, "How is she?"

He returned my greetings, "She doing fine, she just needs a lot of rest and both some medical care and some mental support."

I felt a vibration in my backpocket and excused me as I was leaving the room.

"Hello", I said as I answered the call.

"We might have a serious situation on our hands." It was Keith, he's the head of Intel at Central Ops.

"Just wait a moment", I said as I returned in the room. I took a look at Sam and said my goodbyes to Nathan. Talk to later I mouthed to him.

"Ok, Fill me in " I continued my conversation with Keith as was making my out of the building. Down the hall I bumped into Ellie.

"S**t" I mumbled and excused me to her.

As I got in to my car I was fully briefed on the situation and thinking of the necessary steps that had to be taken to avoid a total disaster.

mental note to my self <Find out why I got into this line of work>, but that answer came rather fast and easy.

I got into my car, turned on the radio...

'ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR' it shouted then a mean gitar started playing.

"HEYHO, LET'S GO" I sang (shouted would be closer to the truth) along with Joey Ramone and his brothers

I drove off, and made my way to CO.

From: Morley Cigs

"Wichita, Kansas," where the first words spoken when I answered the phone. I knew what it meant, and I knew who was calling.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Johnson trusts me, and he doesn't seem the paranoid type to feed me false information. Pity for him."

"Indeed." I lit up a Morley. <Poor Johnson. He has no clue what he has gotten himself into.> "What's the status on the rest of the team. I'm assuming they are on the way."

"Yes, they are," she said. "By car, no less. Perhaps they were too suspicious to take planes."

"Good. It will allow us to catch up with them." I took a drag on the Morley. <They found it! Thank you Y-files agents. You are doing such a good job, and I didn't even have to waste my resources.>

"What do you plan to do now," she said with a bit of impatience and irritability in her voice. She knows that I'm not telling her the whole story.

"Is Agent Johnson meeting them down there?"

"Yes. He probably will have to go by plane to catch up with them."

"Alright. Follow Johnson covertly. When he meets ups with the rest of the FBI, follow them as well. Allow them to find the locker, and report to me." I took out another Morley to smoke. "I am in Germany right now, but I will call you upon my arrival in Wichita."

"Your coming to Wichita? Look, I don't need a supervisor to look over my shoulder." Distrust, once again, seeped into her voice.

"By no means, Ms. Mcgee. I am not a baby-sitter. You are one the best operatives I have, but you will have to agree that I have a bested interest in this mission. I need to be in direct command."

"Alright," she said as she hung up. Mcgee *was* one of the best, and I knew her independent nature was one of the drawbacks of employing her services.

Wichita, Kansas. Who would have ever thought that a little city in Southern Kansas would present a great race against time between two opposing forces?

From: SAC Sara Zeuty

It would be another seven hours in the car before we arrived in Wichita. I was really starting to regret not flying. I swigged down a few more gulps of water as Kiwi pulled out of the parking lot.

"You want anything to eat?" She said. Her voice was quiet, she was tired. She seemed to be in a little better shape than me. My head was pounding, and I vowed that the next time I decided to get drunk before having to be up and ready to go in the morning, it would not be on cheap vodka from a motor lodge.

I groaned, rolling over in the backseat and squeezing my eyes shut.

"I'll take that as a no." She said. We started down the road, following Jadzia as she pulled into a McDonald's. The smell of grease wafting through the air made me nauseous. I sat up and opened the car door, hanging out as my body purged itself of the toxin.

"So tell me why you don't have a boyfriend again?" Kiwi asked as I shut the door. "I mean, that was pretty attractive."

I shot her a death glare and she grinned at me in the rear view mirror. My stomach rumbled.

"Actually, I could go for a cheeseburger." I said.

"Sara, it's just after 7AM. I don't think they're serving lunch yet."

"But we have guns." I mumbled.

"Tell me again how you got this job? Did you skip the psych exam or something?"

"What can I say. I'm a criminal mastermind."

She pulled up to the drive through window and leaned through the car window, exchanging some words with the teenage boy that was attending it. A few moments later she passed me back a cheesburger and a chocolate milkshake.

"What did you say to him?" I asked in astonishment.

"What can I say, I'm a more effective mastermind."

I looked over as the teenager waved to Kiwi, grinning, as we pulled away.

Four hours went by before we pulled off of the interstate into Kansas city. We had spent most of this time amusing ourselves by thinking up movie titles and replacing the last word with "bumhole." It was starting to feel like just another road trip, not a trip that could lead to the end of our lives. 

From: SAC Sara Zeuty

We followed Jadzia's car to the first cheesy diner that we came across, as per "the plan."

"Agnes' Wonderland Diner." I read out loud. "Agnes?"

Kiwi shrugged and we stepped out of the car. "Alice in Bumhole-land." She said. We broke into laughter. Jadzia gave us an odd look, raising her right eyebrow.

We sat down at a table and ordered coffee. I spread out a map of Wichita on the table. "Okay," I said, "We've got about three hours before we hit our final destination." I said. Kiwi's eyes met mine.

"Final-" We both broke into more laughter before she could finish. Scham looked from Kiwi to me, then back again. Jadzia leaned in close to us from the other side of the booth.

"Have you two been smoking something?" She said. "You do realize where we're going, what we're going to do, and who will probably be following us, don't you?" She looked serious, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up as she looked back down at the map. The constant tension of the past few days had needed breaking, and we all knew it. Even she seemed slightly more relaxed than when we had arrived at the Arlene Motor Lodge. Without some sort of release, we would have worked ourselves into a knot too tight to do anything.

I cleared my throat, getting myself back into work mode. Kiwi pointed to a spot on the map. "This is the Greyhound station. The man who took Sara's key doesn't know that this is where we are headed, but we have to assume that somehow he's following us. Once we get in to Wichita, there's no way to avoid the fact that he's going to know it's in that city. We considered driving through and maybe having one car turn back later, but we decided that would take too much time."

"Instead," She continued, "We're going to split off once we get into the city. We're going to drive around aimlessly for about an hour, staying away from traffic. This guy, hopefully, can only follow one car. And hopefully, we'll be able to realize we're being followed. We're stopping by a hardware store before we get back on the interstate, to copy this key again. In the event that one of our cars is followed once we hit Wichita, that car will lead our man on a wild goose chase. Stop at another diner, make it seem like you're waiting for the other car. Call my cellphone, let it ring twice, then hang up. This is your signal that you will *not* be meeting up at the station. If Sara and I are followed, we'll do the same and ring Jadzia."

"What if we can lose the guy?" Scham asked.

"Don't be fooled." She said. "If you are being followed, assume that you cannot lose him. We're hoping that he's not going to try anything until we actually reveal the location of the locker. We don't believe this man is working for Morley, and we're hoping that Morley still has no idea where we are. In the event that we are both being followed, we'll meet here." She said, pointing to the East Square shopping center. "Got it? That means if you double ring us, and we double ring you back, we will both head there immediately and go from there."

We all nodded. "At four PM, either one car or both will pull into the Greyhound station, make sure things are safe, and get to the locker. I've called ahead to check the bus schedules, The only ones that leave on Sundays are the 11AM and the 2PM, so the place should be empty. They don't lock up the waiting area, however, so if for some reason anyone is hanging around, we will ask them to leave immediately. I don't want any innocent bystanders getting hurt."

She folded up the map, taking a deep breath. "We've taken every precaution, but no matter what I want us all to be prepared for a violent encounter once we get there. Once we have the contents of the locker, we will then drive to the airport to catch a 4:45PM flight back to DC. Any questions?"

Scham spoke up. "And if something happens, and only one car is able to make it to the station?"

Kiwi took another breath. "Let's assume that you and Jadzia have been followed, and are stuck at a diner. If I have not called by 4:10PM to say everything has gone according to plan, you will come to the station immediately. I don't want you any more than five minutes away at this point, so if you are farther away, start driving at 4:00PM. Once you get the call, meet us at the airport. If you don't get the call, something has gone wrong. We can't really plan for that, but I want us all in the same place, and for God's sake call the police. Even the four of us will probably be outnumbered against Morley. Even if it's only this one guy, I don't mind all the backup we can get. I'd call ahead and have the entire PD meet us there if I could, but that would give away our location and I'm willing to bet the locker would be empty once we got there."

We all nodded grimly, though Scham looked slightly confused. He hadn't yet had the pleasure of dealing with Morley firsthand.

"Anything else?" Kiwi asked, as she took another gulp of her coffee.

From: Agent Cathy Baker

I picked her up in the JEHB parking lot. She got into her car, a light two door sedan, and turned right. The cab I'd been waiting to see pulled in behind her and tapped the horn twice.

Our signal.

I didn't know where she was going, but Vance would follow her closely and report to me at the hotel. I don't trust cell phones when it comes to security. I keep remembering that whole Camilla Park Bowles and Prince Charles incident; "I want to be a tampon in your trousers...".

Eve'd turned right and the direct route to the Comity was left, so I figured I had enough time to toss her room if I hurried. I hurried.

I dialed Jackson's private number and requested a ride. I'd barely gotten off the phone when cab Number Ten came around the bend. It's good to have had an intimate relationship with a cab company owner. Jackson had proven very useful on many occassions.

I had the cab driver take me around to the rear entrance.

"You got a key to get in there, ma'am?" the cabby asked. "That's one of those computer card locks, you know."

"No," I admitted, "but I won't need one. I'm FBI!" I showed him my badge and grinned hugely.

He raised an eyebrow and took off shaking his head.

I looked around , then took my badge from its case. The back of it is a series of little pin-like thingys and some bits of colored round stuff and they told me it was a computer-mabob when they gave it to me. Cost four bazillion dollars blahblahblah. All I knew was that when you put the doodad in the key slot, the door opened.

And it did. And I walked in.

Hey, I'm a highly trained professional federal representative!

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

INSIDE THE COMITY

I used my trusty security buster to enter her room. It was an exact replica of mine and I knew right away she was a fake.

Not a thing had been disturbed. The bed hadn't even been slept in. No luggage, no personal items, empty drawers and closets. One ashtray overflowing with cigarete butts all smoked down to the filter. Nervous girl.

The room was a dead end. Might be a few fingerprints around but not really worth the effort.

She was a pro and she didn't intend to be caught. Most definately a hit in the works. Probably someone high up, but maybe a down-ranking employee with too much on the ball. Maybe like Sara. Or Samantha.

But the cigarette butts bothered me. It would've been easy for her to dump the ashtray, wipe out the bowl and I'd never have caught it. Of course she expected that someone would search her room. Leaving a clue like a bowl full of butts was tantamount to signing your name in red paint. People in our profession just didn't do that. They weren't that sloppy.

From: Sam Mcgee

Wichita.

I was surprised but pleased that Morley had decided to send me there. I don't usually mind waiting, but I didn't like the idea of hanging around DC with nothing to do--especially after my 'room' had been searched. I rejoined Agent Johnson in the restaurant and he insisted on walking me to my car. Such a boy scout... Working him was like pulling the wings off a fly.

I pulled away from the curb and drove ahead of Johnson, watching him in my rearview mirror.. After three or four blocks he turned right onto a side street. I made a quick U-turn and followed. I already had my luggage in my car--all I had to do is stick with Dudley DoRight.

I picked up my cellphone and dialed the number of a former colleague who left the Agency about the same time I had. He was strictly freelance now, but we still traded favors from time to time.

"Hey, Boo," I said, "it's Mcgee. I need you to do a wee bit of hacking for me."

"It'll cost you big time," he said, before I even told him what I wanted. "It's March Madness, Bay-Bee."

<ugh, basketball--I'd rather get a root canal than watch basketball>

"Yeah, yeah, it always does. I need you to check passenger reservations on all flights departing DC and arriving in Wichita for the next day or two. The name I'm looking for is Special Agent Matthew Johnson, FBI. While you're at it, check for any other FBI personnel headed to Wichita.

"Then I want you to book me on the same flight as Johnson." I gave him a name and a credit card number.

"Same thing with a rental car?" he asked. I could hear the muted clicking of his keyboard as he typed.

"Yes."

"Okey-dokey," he said. "I'll give you a call when I've got the info." He hung up.

I followed Johnson.

From: Agent Samantha Jaythree

I woke up feeling slightly better than I had when I went to sleep. I blinked several times, and looked into Marty's familiar, rugged face.

"Hey, Sammy. 'Bout time you woke up."

I coughed slightly and tried to sit up. Marty spoke to someone who came to my side and helped me reposition myself into a comfortable, propped up position.

"That's Greg," Marty nodded towards him. "He's your nurse."

I nodded as Greg smiled in return. He was nearly as well muscled as Marty, with light brown skin and deep brown eyes. "Where did you used to work?" I whispered as loudly as I could. "FBI? DEA? NSA?"

"Marines," Greg replied as he adjusted the IV tubing and then went to another part of the large room.

"Where's Agent Toews?"

"She's in the building." Marty stretched out his legs as he made himself comfortable in the chair beside my bed. "You're both perfectly fine, perfectly safe. Dr. McKay stopped by to see you, but you were still out of it."

"Somebody *did* try to kill me," I whispered. Greg brought over a glass with a straw, and I accepted it gratefully. I sipped the icy cold juice.

"I know, babe, that's a hell of a gunshot wound." Marty turned serious for a minute. "So what were you doing?"

"I don't remember." I took another drink. "But I meant somebody in the hospital was trying to kill me."

"The cleaning lady?" He leaned back in his chair as I nodded. "Yeah, well, I called some friends with the DC police, and guess what?" Marty grinned. "The woman went to the emergency room for the head wound from the IV pole. She had a moderate concussion. Good shot for having your head in a bag, Sammy."

I waved my free hand impatiently for Marty to continue.

"Then she was supposed to be admitted to a room. Worker's comp, and all that, but --" He held up his hand. "When police went to her room to interview her about the incident, they found that the cleaning woman had disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Further investigation by hospital security and the DC police revealed that this particular cleaning woman was a temp, just hired two days previously. The address she gave the hospital personnel office turned out to be a fast food restaurant over in Maryland."

I nodded my head. At least I now had some indirect proof that I hadn't been completely paranoid. I took another sip of juice and considered this latest information. I thought back to the interview at the hospital between Nathan and Agents Johnson and Willmore. What had Sara and I stumbled into that we had been targeted?

"Marty, can you do me a favor?"

"Depends."

"Can you get a laptop for me."

"Sure," Marty shrugged. "Why?"

"Something I want to check," I whispered.

"Well, you'll be checking it later today," Greg came back from wherever he had disappeared to in the large suite in which they had placed me. "Doctor's orders were for you to rest. You've had enough conversation now." He took the glass from my hand. "Dr. McKay said if you tried to do too much, too soon, I should sedate you."

"He did?" I would have argued, but I knew I had to regain my full strength if I was going to be any help at all with this or any future investigation. "Okay, but just this once. And take good care of Agent Toews."

"Well, she's not my specific department," Marty grinned again, and it was still an annoying expression. "But she's being very well taken care of. Heard your boss called her earlier."

Skinner. He had probably had a small fit because we had not followed proper procedures and protocols. Well, I would tell him how sorry I was after I filed a complaint about my security at the hospital.

Reluctantly I allowed them to help me lie down again, and I fell asleep almost instantly.

From: Agent Elisheva Toews

It was early afternoon when I finally woke up to the sound of a lawnmower in the distance. I sat up with a start, momentarily forgetting where I was, and reached for my gun that sat on the beside table. Without warning the room began to spin and my head felt like jackhammer was punching a hole right through the middle.

Ah...yes, a concussion.

I gently laid back down on the oversided feather pillows and relaxed while it deflated slightly. Gosh, I could really learn to like the heavenly place if only..." I cut the thought short.

Resting for a few more minutes with my eyes shut, I remembered the phone conversation with Skinner and grimiced. There we times that he was just too by the book, even for me.

<When you get to the office> the anal voice said.

<*IF* I ever go back to the office> the underpaid unappreciated side retorted.

<Skinner is going to have a field day with this. You take Samantha virtually off her death bed, without *anyone's* approval or knowledge.> anal voice continued.

<Oh shut up and get off her case. I did the best I could and Samantha *IS* safe> underpaid/unappreciated reminded anal.

"Oh, shut up already?" I said out loud, shaking my head. Amazing what a concussion does to those pesky voices in a person's head. I resolved to call Skinner again after I check on Samantha.

Throwing back the covers, I swung my feet to the floor just as a knock came to the door. "Come in." I said as I adjust my robe slightly to make sure everything was covered.

Hank entered the room and smiled. "You're awake finally."

"Did you guys spike those blueberry muffins with something? I haven't slept that hard in ages." I joked.

"Nope, no spiking of blueberries aloud here?"

I stood and walked to the closet to find my clothes. "Hank, I know you probably won't answer my question, but where exactly *is* here?" I opened the closet door and found my clothes gone. I turned to him with a wry grin, "And where precisely are my clothes?" It sounded more like question I would ask a lover than a complete stranger and I had to chuckle.

"I'll take the easy one first. We took your clothes and burned them." He laughed, until he saw my glare and then reconsidered. "They were a mess so we sent them out to be cleaned, but housekeeping will be bringing up something for you shortly. They were waiting for you to awake before they did."

"And you keep a wardrobe for every type of person just in case they need clothes?"

"Believe me, it won't be glamorous, just functional." Again Hank smiled. "As for the second question, I'm not at liberty to tell you where we are. Sorry, but that is my orders." He looked away sheepishly.

"Don't worry, I know how the 'orders' thing works." I sighed. "I'll just tell my boss that you we're following orders and there was nothing I could do because I didn't out rank you."

Housekeeping knocked at the door and handed Hank a small pile of clothes. "Here, put these on. I'm sure you want to see Samantha. I'll be waiting in the hall."

I slipped into the gray jogging suit and went barefooted out to the hall. Hank looked at my naked feet and smirked. "I don't like shoes either."

Opening the door, I saw Samantha sleeping figure lying in the bed. Marty was sitting in a chair beside her reading the newspaper and looked up when he heard the door open.

"She just fell back asleep." Marty said with a hushed tone.

"How is she doing?" I asked.

"Greg says she is doing much better than when you first brought her in. The fact that she asked for a laptop supported that fact."

"She asked for a laptop? Did she say what for?"

"No. Besides I told her work was not in the doctors orders." He chuckled.

Why would Samantha have wanted a laptop? I'd have to think about that for a while, but it really wasn't a bad idea. I needed to contact the rest of the team, make sure Johnson and Piontek made it back to the JEHB in one piece. It would also be a very convenient way to get in touch with Skinner without actually having to speak with him.

Turning to Hank I made my request. "As far as I know, it's not againt *my* doctor's orders. What are the chances of using a computer for a little while?"

He placed his hand on the middle of my back guiding me back towards the door. "Your wish, my lady, is my command. Right this way."

From: Agent Kiwi Malone

An eight hour drive was not on my list of favourite things to be doing. I hadn't gotten drunk the night before, I was certainly in better shape than Sara, but I found myself having to concentrate on driving on the right hand side of the highway. Years of driving on the left made my auto-pilot unreliable. My main problem was a lack of sleep, and a knot in my gut from thinking too hard about personal things. <Put it aside, Kiwi> I shoved a tape into the deck, keeping the volume low. Tom Waits, it suited the cornfields and plains perfectly.

I ran through the plan in my head. Now we all had a copy of the key, if even one of us made it there, we could open the locker. What troubled me, was who else might be on hand to meet us. Pulling out my 'phone, I shoved it into the hands free cradle and punched in Willmores number. It went to his voice mail, and I flicked it off. I had left him three messages already, he would get back to me when he could. At least, I hoped he would. I chewed on my lip, Piontek would be meeting us in Witcita, and a few minutes ago Johnson had called. I had detected a note of uncertainty in his voice, and wondered how his meeting with Kendall had gone. I had asked him, but he said his flight was being called, and that had been the end of it.

I called Elisheva, left a message on her voice mail. I wanted her to stay with Samantha, wherever they were. It was bound to be safer than County General, and I was glad to have Eli with her. Johnson had given me a brief run-down on what had happened, and I had reassured him that he had done the right thing. Dr. Nathan Mckay though, was turning out to have some powerful contacts.

Sara woke up just as we headed into Witcita. She groaned and climbed over into the front.

'Careful,' I muttered, as her boot nudged me in the arm.

'Sorry.' She plopped down beside me and rubbed her eyes. 'OK, any sign of a tail?' She was checking out the rear window as she spoke.

'No, not so far. I'll take us through the city centre for a way, see if anyone turns up.'

Frty five minutes later my 'phone rang. Twice, then hung up. I glanced at the display and recognised Jadzia's number. 'The others have been followed, let's go.'

Sara read out directions as I drove to the bus station. We pulled into a carpark across the road and merged with the late afternoon crowds. Once inside, the station was almost empty.

'Over there,' Sara pointed to a locker area that had two walls covered, with a central island of lockers in the middle. They were bright red, as we walked towards them I felt my heartbeat increase steadily. I flipped the leather catch on my holster, keeping my hand near to the gun. No one else was in the area. <Two of us, this isn't enough> I thought. I nodded to Sara.

'Stay close, I'll take point. Get in, find number 68, and get out.'

I kept no more than a foot away from her, as she bent down to a floor level locker in the row againt the wall. Standing back against the central lockers, I kept my attention to the left and then the right. There was a mens room against the furthest wall, I hadn't noticed it when we frst came in. I snapped my head towards it, lifting my gun when I heard the door opening, then froze as I heard Sara swear.

'S**#, Kiwi, this is it, but there's only a-'

She stopped, and I sensed a movement behind me and to my left. I was about to swing around when Sara stood and launched herself in that direction. I saw the startled expression on the face of the man who had just left the mens room, and then a heavy weight pushed against me. <The lockers, what the hell?> The central bank was shifting, a huge crash from the other side had pushed them over. I struggled to turn and push back against them, but my weight wasn't enough. I could hear shouts, and the sound of a fight. A handle struck me in the temple and another caught my coat pocket as I attempted to throw myself forwards. I felt a disturbing crunch in my chest, then collapsed, the lockers making a booming crash as they toppled onto me.

From: SAC Sara Zeuty

My hands were shaking as I opened the locker. I don't know what I expected to find inside, but it was something that Maggie was killed for, that Sam was shot for. I expected the truth to finally be revealed.

What I found was a bleeping algebra equation. I stared at it for a few moments.

47.55943/14 X 122.32325/23 = 8724DR

"S**# Kiwi, this is it, but there's only a-" I stopped as I heard a noise. I saw a man step out of the restroom. He and I both pulled our guns at the same time. It took me a second to realize it was only Mike, then he turned suddenly and pointed his gun behind the lockers. He got off one shot as they all came crashing down on top of Kiwi.

My heart started racing as everything turned to confusion. I heard another gunshot, followed closely by a second from the opposite direction. I looked up to see Johnson running in. He took the gun from a dying man's hand, then he and Piontek began pulling lockers off of Kiwi. She was bleeding, on of the locker handles had caught her in the head, opening a nasty gash.

I started checking her over, then Piontek pushed my head down and fired off another shot. There was a strangled groan as another man, shot in the throat, fell to the floor. I looked back down at Kiwi. She was unconscious. The lockers had caught her full force in the chest, and she probably had bruised or cracked ribs. I was wary of moving her, but we weren't in the position to sit and wait for an ambulance.

"Get her out of here!" I shouted at Johnson. "Take her into the ER. I'll cover you, then follow. Mike, you too, he can't carry her and shoot his gun. If I'm not right behind you, just go. I'll find my way to the hospital."

"But you can't-"

"Just GO!" I screamed.

Johnson lifted Kiwi into his arms, and Mike went out ahead of them. I saw him stop, take aim and fire, then they started running again. I crouched on the floor, my gun aimed at the second entrance until they cleared the building, then got up and started backing out after them. I was a few feet from the door when I felt a stinging sensation in my arm, then heard a shot.

"Drop your weapon, Agent Zeuty, or I'll aim to kill." Morley. My arm felt numb, and I dropped my gun simply because I was no longer able to grasp it. My other hand flew to my upper arm, applying pressure to the spot where his bullet had grazed me. I had never been shot before. It hurt. I turned slowly to face him. He was with a woman and another man, all of whom were pointing guns at me.

"I trust you've found the contents of the locker?" He said. "You may give them to me now."

I glared at him in contempt. There was nothing I could do. If I went for my gun, all three of them would probably fill me full of holes. I swore to myself that I would live long enough to kill him. I wanted to scream at him for what he'd done to Maggie, but I didn't want to betray any emotion. I checked my anger, and pulled the small piece of paper out of my pocket slowly, leaning up against the doorframe.

"This is what we found." I said, staring at it. Memorizing it. Then he turned, and gestured the other two out of the building. I frowned, wondering why he wouldn't want to keep his back up.

They left, and then I heard the woman, from outside, say "Drop them," and Jadzia's voice swear loudly. A clatter of guns to the pavement. Morley smiled slightly as he took a few steps toward me. I held the paper out to him. His hand reached out, slowly, to take it from me. His fingers just barely brushed against it when I pulled it back, and with a single movement placed it in my mouth. I swallowed it, knowing that now, I was the only person on the planet who knew what was on that paper. If he killed me, his secret, whatever it was, would die with me.

A look of anger flashed briefly past his eyes. Then he buried the muzzle of his gun into my stomach, never breaking eye contact. I nearly jumped when I felt an arm from behind, slowly sliding across my back. Someone here to help. I felt three fingers press into the small of my back. Then one, then two. <On three.> As soon as all three fingers pressed into my back again, the hand slid fully around my waist and I lunged in the direction it was pulling, turning my body outward as I did so. Morley's gun went off, and I felt a burning on the skin of my stomach. I was thrown to the ground, and then swooped up as the man who had saved me continuously fired toward the door as he ran backwards around the corner of the building and into a waiting car. He literally threw me into the passenger seat, then climbed in and took off.

I turned to face the back, keeping my head low as Morley and both of his assistants ran after the car shooting. I prayed that Jadzia and Scham were okay, and that this had given them time to escape. In the distance I heard the sound of approaching sirens.

Then I turned back to face the man who had rescued me. It was the same man who had only the previous night held a gun to me himself, and taken my copy of the locker key.

From: Agent Samuel Padilla

I had won. Jadzia would have to listen to Metallica for the rest of the trip.

She glanced at me as I pushed the tape in. "C'mon Jadz, I'm only 28."

'Darkness

Imprisoning me

all that I see

absolute horror

I cannot live

I cannot die

trapped in myself

body my holding cell...'

'One' was the last song I heard before I fell asleep. Jadzia woke me up. "Hey Scham, wake up! We're almost there".

"What time is it?" I asked. It was the second time that same day I had asked the same question to the same person.

"Almost three o'clock" She replied.

I opened my eyes and look out of the window to see Kiwi and Sara. I made a sign with my hand and the two cars split.

As soon as we entered the city I offered myself to drive. I had had some sleep and Jadzia had been driving for nearly 8 hours. We reached a gas station and then switch.

I was opening the door when I saw a black sedan parked across the street. As if we had read our minds, Jadzia and I glanced at each other and quickly got into the car.

"Do you think...?"

"I don't know" She answered "It might. Let's drive according to the plan and see what happens."

I started the engine and left the station. I had been driving for about 25 minutes when I heard Jadzia say: "We're the one's being followed". She pulled her cellphone out and dialed our partners.

"So" I said after she hung up. "I suppose I should drive into a diner".

"That's right" She said, turning her head backwards to see the car behind us.

From: Agent Samuel Padilla

I don't remember the name of the place we were in, but it was a nice one. <We have to eat after all> I thought. Jadzia ordered a steak and I ordered chicken. We chose a table near a window, Jadzia facing it.

"Is he still there?" I asked.

"Yes he is". The car we had seen back at the gas station was parked in front of the diner and hadn't moved during the time we were eating.

Suddenly we listened to sirens. Looking outside the window we saw three, four, five, six, seven police cars literally flying in the street. I looked at my watch: 3:57.

"S**t" I muttered.

"Sara and Kiwi" Jadzia said.

We jumped out our seats. We didn't have an opportunity to taste the food. I left twenty dollars on the table and we both exited the diner to the parking lot and entered the car, myself driving. I was hoping this was just another incident and that we still had time to reach Sara and Kiwi at fifteen past four, as planned. Following the police cars we finally arrived at the Greyhound Station 5 minutes after we left the diner.

<My God> I thought.

"Agent Jadzia Reyes, I'm with the FBI" Jadzia yelled at an officer as she stepped out of the car "What happened?"

"Officer Mahoney. A shooting in the insides was reported".

"Anyone hurt?" I asked showing my badge as I stepped beside Jadzia.

"Don't know sir. We're sending a team right now."

"No, wait" Jadzia said "Who's in charge?"

"Lt. Callahan, the man right there in the suit" he answered. He pointed to a man in his mid forties, about 6'1'', moustached.

"Thank you" I said as we walked toward the Lt.

"Lt. Callahan?" Jadzia asked and he nodded. "Agents Padilla and Jadzia, FBI."

"We think two federal agents might be in there. This is part of a federal investigation" I said.

"I'm listening agents."

"We have an idea of who could possibly be inside with our agents. It is my suggestion we go in first." Jadzia said.

"But I have a team ready right now" Callahan didn't seemed to be happy about the arrival of feds.

"Your team comes after us Lt, as backup." I said, catching the idea Jadzia had.

He hesitated, but finally agreed: "Alright. Taylor!" He yelled turning his head to his team.

"Yes sir?" A voice answered in the distance.

"The feds are going first. You're going right behind them."

"Alright sir."

"It's all yours" Callahan said to us.

"Thank you Lt." After saying this words, we approached the police squad.

"Okay. Taylor, I suppose you're in charge." Jadzia said to the man who had answered to Callahan's call.

"Yes ma'am."

"Right. Now you all listen. There are two federal agents inside that building" We kept hearing shots fired.

"S**t!" I said loudly.

"We know who might be responsible for the shooting, so Agent Padilla here and myself are going in first. You're going in at our signal". Jadzia ended.

"Let's go." I said.

We walked to the building and when we were about a hundred feet away from the main entrance, we saw two familiar figures crossing the door.

"Johnson and Kiwi" Jadzia muttered.

"Yes, but who's the other guy?" I asked.

"I don't know... I bet he's one of the good guys" She answered.

As they approached us, we heard Johnson: "Malone is hurt".

"We need an EMT unit right here!" I shouted. "We're going in Matt" I said turning to Johnson.

"I'll be with you as soon as Agent Malone gets attention. By the way, he's SA Piontek. Agent Piontek, SAC Jadzia and SA Padilla."

"Nice to meet you" He said.

"Where's Sara?" I asked.

"She's still in there" Piontek answered.

"We've got tho get her out" I said to Jadzia.

"We'll be with you in a minute" Johnson said and left with Piontek and Kiwi.

We walked toward the main entrance, from where they had previously left. "On three" I said, then raised fingers one by one: One, two, three.

"FBI" Jadzia entered first. "Drop them!" She said in a loud voice. Two men and a woman instantly droped their guns.

I walked slowly to them, Jadzia still pointing her gun, and made a signal to Taylor, who approached me.

"Check out and secure the entire place" I said to him. "An agent is missing". He nodded and ordered his team to enter the building. I began cuffing the three of them.

From: Sam Mcgee

After about twenty minutes, Johnson turned onto 395 and headed south. He was apparently going directly to the airport. Boo called just as I was pulling into the short-term parking lot.

"TWA flight 412," he said. "Lariat car rental--I think you'll like it."

"Thanks."

I parked my car and hurried after Johson into the terminal. A few minutes later I had my ticket and was on my way to the departure gate. A bored-looking guard at the security desk glanced at my DOJ credentials and waved me around the metal detector.

I ducked into the first woman's restroom I came across and made a few quick changes. I traded the duck jacket for a Georgetown sweatshirt and stuffed my hair under a short, red wig. I added a pair of lightly tinted glasses and walked casually to the waiting area as the first boarding call was announced.

Johnson was talking on his cellphone and was so engrossed in his call he didn't notice when I walked right past him. I boarded the plane before he did. My seat was clear back in the rear of the plane. Great, I thought acidly. Nothing like three hours in an LD-80 sitting right next to the engines. <Boo, I will get even>

I stuffed a couple of cigarette filters in my ears as we became airborne. Once we reached altitude, I paged a flight attendant.

"Tequila," I said, "and keep 'em coming."

From: Sam Mcgee

Once on the ground, Johnson was on the phone again. He checked his watch and nodded as he signed forms at the Lariat counter. I was standing next to him, signing forms of my own. I overheard bits of the converstion--apparently he was going to meet up with the other agents at a bus station.

I smiled to myself. This was going to be easy.

My smile evaporated, however, when I saw the alleged car Boo had reserved for me.

A calf-scours brown mini-van. <Boo, you're a dead man>

A small placard glued to the dashboard politely declared it was a smoke-free vehicle.

"Yeah, bite me," I muttered, lighting up a Morley.

*****************************************

I called Morley and gave him the location.

He sounded pleased. "Good. Meet me there."

I stepped on the gas and passed Johnson on the interstate. I found the bus station on the map and sped into the city.

I found Morley standing at a pay phone, his back turned. The man standing next to him was the same man who had ridden with me in the car when I met with Morley after Boulder. I still didn't know his name. He said something to Morley and slipped his hand under his jacket. Morley turned and nodded towards the lockers.

"Zeuty and Malone are over there," he said, a thin smile creasing his face. "Let's play."

We drew our guns and were walking towards the lockers when all hell broke loose. A man ran out of the restroom and pushed down the bank of lockers on top of Agent Malone. The sound of gunfire echoed deafeningly throughout the high-ceilinged room. The man whose name I didn't know pushed Morley behind a door. I hit the floor behind the fallen lockers and wished I had stayed back in DC.

The shooting died off and I watched Johnson and another man run out of the building with Malone. Zeuty brought up the rear, covering their escape. Morley stepped out from behind the door and fired once. Zeuty dropped her weapon, blood welling from the wound in her arm. The nameless man and I trained our guns on her while Morley asked for what she had taken from the locker. Morley gestured towards the door and the nameless man grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

<Dammit, I wanted to see what was in that locker!>

We reached the door in time to see two more agents approaching the building.

"Drop 'em!" I yelled.

The female agent swore bitterly and they dropped their guns. But something went wrong.

More gunfire. A man exploded through the door carrying Zeuty. Morley was running after them, shooting. Nameless and I joined him as the man threw Zeuty into his car and squealed away in a cloud of tire smoke. We fired at the car but it was too late.

Zeuty was gone, the contents of the locker were gone and, judging from the number of angry law enforcement officers yelling at us, we were busted.

From: Morley Cigs

"Un-cuff me." I said calmly.

"Not this time, you son of a b!tch." I knew that voice, and I turned around to confirm it.

"Ah! Agent Reyes. How good to see you again. I looked at the man that was cuffing me. "This must be Agent Padilla. We haven't had the pleasure."

"Shut up and stay quiet," Agent Padilla said.

"Manners, Agent Padilla. You haven't even read me my rights."

"Your not going to have any rights where you are going," Agent Reyes said with a smirk on her face.

"On the contrary, I'm protected by my rights. Officer?" I called, looking at one of the cops. "Reach into my coat pocket an pull out my identification."

The cop came over and pulled out my wallet.

"It says his name is Edward M. Chapman." The cop paused, and he looked rather disappointed when he was reading the rest of it.

"What else does it say?" asked Agent Padilla.

"He is a member of a Canadian diplomatic envoy." He handed the id over to Reyes and shook his head. "He has diplomatic immunity."

"Please. This man is no envoy. He is a killer, and you can't let him walk away from a crime scene." Reyes said angrily.

"Actually he can and he will. You can not detain me. The rest of these men are part of my envoy. Now again," I looked at Padilla, "un-cuff me."

"This jerk off is right," the cop said crudely. "We can't hold him. We gotta let him go."

Padilla looked at Reyes. Anger filled her eyes. <Sorry Reyes, but not today.> Reyes nodded her head at Padilla. "Let him go."

Padilla un-cuffed me, but not before he tightened my hand cuffs. "I have a fairly high thresh hold to pain, Agent Padilla," I said as he then un-cuffed me. "You'll have to do better than that."

"I'll get my chance," he said coolly.

"Indeed," I said as I lit up a Morley. <But you won't succeed.> I motioned to the two men. "Lets go."

As we were walking out, Reyes yelled something to me. "There will be another time." I paid no attention to her, and I continued to walk. "You want what is in that locker." I stopped, but I did not turn around. "I see fear in your eyes. You're scarred of that locker, and you'll make a mistake because of that fear. Then we'll have you."

I turned around and smiled. "Perhaps." I turned around and left.

<Once again Zeuty got away from me, but who saved her. I've seen that face before, but from where?> "Find Zeuty," I said to the two men, "and find her quick."

"Yes, Sir."

We drove off to my safe house. <This wasn't the locker. What was on that paper?>

<Damn Zeuty. I really hated that woman.>

From: Agent Samantha Jaythree

I woke again to see Marty quietly talking on the phone. I couldn't hear what he said, but as soon as he noticed me awake he ended the call and came over beside my bed. "How are you feeling, Sammy?"

"Fine," I rasped. "Where's --"

"Are you hungry, Ms. Jaythree?" Greg appeared from seemingly nowhere. "We could get some nice broth or Jell-O for you."

"Ohhhh, yummy," Marty replied with a caustic grin. "Make sure you get the red Jell-O for her. It's her favorite."

"Where's my laptop?" I made a point of looking around the room. "And where's Agent Toews?"

"Would you like to see her?"

I nodded, although I rolled my eyes as well. Of course, I wanted to see her, if only to make sure she hadn't left me in this place. As I looked around the oversized suite, I was impressed with its size, its decor, and the overall amount of medical equipment in this room.

"This is huge," I whispered softly, but Marty heard me and nodded.

"Oh, yeah, babe, and it's just part of the bigger picture."

"Which is -- what exactly?" I looked towards the door at the far end of the room as it opened. I expected to see Elisheva, but instead, it was Greg bearing a tray.

Marty looked at me curiously. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" I looked back at him just as curiously. "What?"

"Nothing, Sammy, I was way out of line. Never mind."

"Never mind, what?" I started coughing from the force of wanting to shout at him. "Don't know what?"

Greg shot a glare towards Marty who instantly became contrite - something I wasn't used to seeing in Marty. "Sorry, Sammy," Marty came and actually knelt beside my bed. "I was way out of line." Both of my eyebrows shot up. "Didn't mean to upset you when you're still recovering from a nasty gunshot wound."

"I'm dying and nobody told me?" I whispered as Greg helped me sit up and look at my tray of lovely red Jell-O. "Since when do you care if I'm upset?"

I looked at the tray. "I'm not eating this," I pointed at it the bowl of clear red cubes.

"Yes, you are," Greg handed a spoon to me. "And if you do, we'll let you have the laptop."

"You drive a hard bargain," I whispered back. The door opened just then and Elisheva walked into the room. "I'll eat the stupid Jell-O *if* you tell me what I *don't* know about Nathan?" Ellie wasn't close enough to hear what I was saying, but she probably saw the intensity of my expression.

"All I meant, Sammy," Marty deliberately kept his voice light, "is that Dr. McKay has connections and access you might not know about." He grinned and shrugged innocently. "That's all."

I thought about that for a minute and then smiled at Ellie as she reached my bedside. "You okay?" I managed in my best whisper. "Want some of this fine food?"

"No way," she shook her head. "I had better stuff to eat, earlier."

"You like her better than me?" I asked the two men hovering at my bedside.

"Not at all, babe," Marty grinned his most annoying grin at me again. "But she's in better shape than you are right this sec."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered and took a bite of the Jell-O. I hated to admit it, but after not eating any real food in I wasn't sure how long...it did taste pretty good. "I'm eating this junk. Can I have that laptop now?"

"When you're finished," Marty stood up and walked over beside one of the windows in the room. All were darkened but afforded a view outside. I was willing to bet they were bulletproof.

"Give it to Agent Toews, then," I nodded towards Ellie who had taken over the large chair beside my bed. "I can tell her what to do."

"Sam, I'm good with my own computer, but I'm not --"

"I'll tell you what to do," I whispered. I surprised myself by finishing the Jell-O while I waited for another tall, well-built man to bring a laptop to me. "Who are you?" I asked him as he set up the computer where I could see it and Ellie could reach it.

"Ari," he smiled shyly, his name, olive complexion, and faint accent giving me several ideas about whose military or intelligence community he had served before entering private security.

Maybe Marty was right. Maybe I should look into this private security gig. The working conditions and companions all seemed very nice.

From: Agent Mike Piontek

When I arrived in Wichita I headed straight for the nearest rental car shop. I'd spoken with Agent Malone before the flight to let the others know I was on the way. From the sound of things, I'd made a wise decision to join them. I was running ahead of schedule but I figured I'd rather get there sooner than later. For all we knew, the locker may already be empty when we arrived.

In a slightly beat-up, red Geo Metro, I headed for the Greyhound station. It wasn't far, and when I saw it I was so lost in thought that I nearly drove past. I parked nearby and walked over to the station.

I was getting tense.

I stepped inside and took a quick look around. It was nearly empty. <<Good. I'm early.>> The group of lockers was hard to miss. I approached a group of three young kids, just standing around joking and laughing. I quietly suggested they leave. They didn't question me.

I turned and was happy to find a bathroom. <<God,>> I thought, <<I swear I've got a bladder the size of a peanut.>> It hadn't been fifteen minutes. <<Too much soda on the plane.>>

I stepped into the restroom and took the opportunity to run over possible scenarios in my head one last time. <<As if I haven't considered every possibility five times already.>> The plane trip had been an anxious one. The short drive in the rental car had been worse. Most of the scenarios I went through were definitely not good, but at least I had in mind what to do in case of them.

Relieved that I had a chance to think before things got hectic, I stepped over to the sink, set my glasses down, and splashed cool water on my face. <<I just wish...>> I thought, rubbing my forehead, <<that such a great number of these scenarios did not involve someone getting shot.>>

I let the water drip from my face and looked in the mirror. <<God. I need to sleep more.>>

I grabbed a paper towel and dried my face and hands. I put my glasses back on and stepped out of the bathroom.

Sara was hunched over in front of an open locker, holding a piece of paper. Kiwi was behind her, against Kiwi a group of lockers, and behind those lockers someone who was clearly not on our side. He had a weapon drawn.

<<Oh fuck.>> In none of my scenarios had I just stepped out of the bathroom.

In an instant, I had my gun in hand, and Sara was pointing hers at me. <<Sara?>> I mouthed. A chill rushed through me. The man behind the lockers had turned his gun toward me as well.

<<No time>> was all I could think. Someone was going to die here. I aimed my weapon and fired.

The man took the bullet in the chest, and it sent him spinning into the lockers. They tumbled on top Malone as Zeuty dove out of the way.

Not thinking, I ran into the open toward Kiwi and heard a gunshot to my left. I turned, cursing myself for being so careless, and let out a sigh of relief. <<Johnson.>> There was another man down. <<Not one of ours,>> I noted.

Johnson and I pulled lockers off Malone. She was badly hurt. Sara was next to me, checking the injuries. <<Where'd she come from?>> I realized she had been there the whole time and too much was happening to keep track.

Something caught the corner of my eye. In one motion I pushed Sara down, brought up my weapon, assessed the situation, and fired. A bullet flew by me and over Sara's head. My bullet caught the man in the throat. I winced.

My heart was racing. My vision blurred for a moment. There was shouting. Yelling at us to leave. Zeuty was being stubborn. I glanced again at the piece of paper in her hand. <<Damn it Sara.>>

"...find my way to the hospital," I heard her finish. <<What? Shit.>>

"But you can't-" I started. <<Can't risk the contents of that locker. What was on that paper? That was it? A scrap of paper? We were killing each other over a scrap of paper?>>

"Just GO!" She yelled. Johnson lifted Kiwi, and I went ahead to cover.

Any scenarios I had considered at this point did not involve Sara walking out of that building. And I did not want to be told that I'd made it in time for her funeral after all.

From: Agent Kiwi Malone

I came to in the back seat of my car, Johnson hovering over me as Piontek leapt into the drivers seat and started it up. Johnson closed the door just as Piontek squealed into the traffic and narrowly avoid a semi coming the opposite way. I struggled to focus on what was happening, but my eyes were filled with blood, and I had difficulty breathing.

'What the hell happened?' It hurt to talk, and I leaned forwards to try and relieve the pain.

Johnson was gripping my shoulders, attempting to stop me from swinging back and forth as Piontek broke the land-speed record. He yelled over my shoulder, 'Piontek! Try getting us to the ER in one piece, ok?'

Mikey laughed, but he slowed the car somewhat. 'Sorry. How's the patient?'

'No ER. Turn around, get me back to the...' I stopped, a stabbing pain in my chest making me pale. 'OK, ER, now.'

Matt returned his attention to me, 'A bank of lockers fell on you, try to stay still.' Johnson was trying to check the wound on my head. 'I think you may have broken ribs. This cut looks worse than it is.'

I gripped his arm. 'Matt? What happened? Is anyone else hurt?'

He didn't answer at first, and Mikey cut in. 'They followed us, we took two of them out. Jadzia and Scham are taking the others into custody. Sara is missing.'

I sat up, ignoring the discomfort, 'She's WHAT?'

'She was taken. But we think it was someone with another agenda. Morely seemed concerned.' Piontek spoke matter of factly, I appreciated the easy to understand briefing, but the news seemed all bad.

My mind raced. 'Is anyone after them? Did you see where-'

'Agent Malone, I really think you should try to-'

I cut Johnson off, 'How did they know where we were?

'I dont know, we followed all the procedure...' Johnson's voice trailed off, he swallowed once. 'I told Agent Kendall. Last night.'

'You told her? After I expressly asked you not...unnn,' I had to stop talking, I felt like a piece of metal was loose in my chest.

His voice was a whisper. 'I apologise, I had no idea-'

I waved him silent. There was no point crying over spilt milk now. But if anything happened to Sara, he was toast. I slumped back in the seat, feeling breathless. 'Piontek?'

'Yeah boss?'

'Drive faster. I'm not doing so great here.'

'Sure.'

He flew around a corner and railed it, arriving at the ER in three minutes. I was bundled onto a stretcher, and tried to oull out my 'phone. One of the nurses grabbed it off me and handed it to Johnson, who along with Piontek was following me inside. I gave them both my best imitation Skinner glare and pushed the oxygen mask to one side. 'Get your behinds back to the bus-station and report to SAC Jadzia. And give me that damned 'phone.'

I pocketed it and let the mask be placed back on my face, watching as the two men returned to the car. <Christ, I have to get an easier line of work>.

*******************************

One Hour Later

The attending that dealt with me had asked a lot of questions. A lot of the scars from Karl and company were still plainly visible, and he had murmered about the x-rays when viewing them. I just wanted out, as long as I was cleared for work, I wasn't concerned about old injuries.

They had wanted me to stay in for a few hours, but reluctantly pronounced me fine. Four of my ribs were cracked, and I had a tight banadage around them. The cut on my head took five stitches and I felt like I had bruises on my bruises. I limped out to the main entrance and hailed a cab.

Pulling out my 'phone I switched it on and immediately got a call form my voice-mail.

'Kiwi? It's Jadzia. Meet us at the Castle Inn, 1155 N River Boulevard. We found Sara, she's fine.'

It was the only message. I wondered how Willmore's daughter was. He must still be at the hospital, since his 'phone was off. I was concerned that he hadn't called, but now wasn't a good time to try. I would have to explain what had happened, and he needed to get away from all the Y-files drama for a while. I put my head back on the cab seat and tried to relax. Things would be fine, I repeated it several times. But it had a hollow ring, so I stopped.

From: SAC Sara Zeuty

  "Who *are* you?" I said.

He continued to stare straight ahead at the road. I glanced back to see if we were being followed, but I didn't see anyone. I was hoping Morley didn't catch up with us soon. I was also hoping that the rest of the agents did. I turned back to face front, and the man reached over with his hand and lifted my blouse up off my stomach. He glanced over at it.

"Looks like you just got burned from the shot. It's not serious." I looked down, realizing I had not even inspected the damage to my own body. My blouse was ruined, it looked as though it had actually caught on fire. There were powder burns on my skin. <So much for ever wearing a bikini again.> I thought. Then I examined my arm. Also a minor wound. The bullet had just barely grazed it, and although my shirt had a large bloodstain, the wound had clotted quickly.

"Where are we going?" I said, as he pulled off the highway and into a rest stop, going about 90 miles per hour.

"Get out, quickly. Into the Lexus." He said, nodding to another car in the lot. I didn't move.

"Look, you can either trust me, or take your chances with the people who are, as we speak, catching up with us and looking for the car you're sitting in." He said.

"Tell me who you are." I replied. He remained calm, but I thought I sensed a note of desperation in his voice, as though he needed me alive for some reason. I knew he wouldn't leave without me.

"Clayton Alexander. Would you please get into the car now."

I got into the Lexus, and he sped off back onto the highway, then pulled off at the next exit to turn around and start back the way we'd come, toward the Greyhound station. He reached behind him, grabbing a bag that was in the back seat. Then he tossed it in my lap.

"Here." He said, "Put these on. Clothes, and a hat."

I looked over at him. "Do you always carry around women's clothing in your back seat?" I asked.

"No." He replied.

I unzipped the back, to find a couple pairs of jeans and some men's shirts. I pulled out a flannel one that was easily twice my size. "If you're going for inconspicuous, I don't think this is going to work."

"Just put it on. There's a cap in there too, and some sunglasses. Tuck your hair up, that red is too noticeable from a distance." He glanced back over at me again. "I'm sure you can manage to look just as inconspicuous as any other woman in this town."

I was dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of how to take that last comment. I unbuttoned my blouse, took it off, and put on the flannel. Clayton's eyes stayed on the road. I slid into a pair of his jeans, and dug out a belt to cinch myself into them. With the addition of the hat and sunglasses, I managed to look like a teenage boy that wore clothes 8 sizes too big.

From: SAC Sara Zeuty

A short time later, we pulled into a motel parking lot. The Castle in. We sat in the car for a moment, as Clayton looked around to make sure we hadn't been followed. Then he got out, and opened my door. I stood up, and immediately kneed him in the groin before I took off running. He may have saved my life, but last night he'd held me at gunpoint. I wasn't sure just who he was, but I was pretty damned sure he wasn't one of the good guys.

I got about ten feet before I tripped over the long legs of the jeans I was wearing and fell hard on my hands and knees. I got up as quickly as I could, but Clayton had already caught up with me.

"Careful, honey." He said as he helped me up. He smiled at an old couple that passed us, on their way to their car. He put his arm firmly around my shoulder, the other on my waist. I could feel a gun in my side.

"Just come with me and play nice, and you'll get out of this okay." He said. He let me to room 206 and unlocked it, latching it firmly once he shut the door.

"Sit." He said, waving his gun toward the bed. I stood firm. He took me by the shoulder and made me sit anyway. He opened the curtains, peeked out, then looked back at me. Then he produced a pair of handcuffs from the bag I had put my own clothes in, and proceeded to cuff me to the bedpost. My own cuffs. I groaned inwardly.

Then he left.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You can't leave me here! Where the hell are you going!" I sighed, trying to yank my hands free. A few moments later he returned, carrying a white box. He placed it on the bed near my feet, then leaned over me and started unbuttoning my shirt. I drew my legs up and kicked him square in the chest with as much force as I could muster. He landed on the floor gasping.

After a moment he stood up, picked the white box up and threw it at me. I ducked my head to the left as it hit the headboard next to my face. It popped open, and the contents spilled to the floor. I realized it was a first aid kit.

"Can you see," He said, then took another breath, "why I felt the need to cuff you. You aren't exactly cooperating. If you would just.." Another breath, as he hunched over in pain, "Listen to me, you would see that I'm trying to help you."

I looked him in the eye as he stared back at me. Then I gestured with my head toward the first aid box. He nodded, and picked up a few antiseptic pads. He unbuttoned my shirt halfway and slid it over my shoulder to expose the wound on my arm. He cleaned and dressed it, then applied some antiseptic to my stomach.

"What do you want from me?" I said when he had finished.

"I need to know what was in that locker." He said.

"And I should tell you because...?"

"Because we are both after the same thing." He replied.

"And what is that, exactly?"

"Morley. You want him brought to justice, and so do I."

"I don't believe you. If that were true, why not just let us do our job? Why steal the key, try to go after it yourself?"

"Other than your complete incompetence?" He said. "What have you got so far? Nothing. You don't even have all the pieces of the puzzle. There are two left. I have one. You evidently ate the other. I need the location that you found. It will work out fine for both of use. You will have the satisfaction of knowing that Morley has been brought to justice, and you won't have to sacrifice any more lives to do it."

"And for you?"

"I will also have the satisfaction of justice." He said. "I intend to see that all parties involved get what they deserve."

I looked at him for awhile. "You mentioned a location. I didn't find a location. Just a bunch of multiplication problems. What is this piece of the puzzle that you have?"

"I have the access to get to this location. It's in code, you must be aware of that, right? Just tell me exactly what was written on that scrap of paper, and I'll take it from here."

"Or what?" I said.

"Or we play it the hard way and you'll be trying to contact me when you realize what you've found."

I snorted. "I doubt that."

"So do I. I'm not exactly reachable. Don't worry, though, I'll be sure to keep in touch."

With that he lay a gun, my gun, I realized, on the dresser, out of my reach. Then he placed my cell phone next to it, and walked out the door. I heard his car speed out of the parking lot.

"You've got to be kidding me." I said out loud to myself. I sat there for a moment, before slowly swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I was able to stand easily, and started dragging the bed across the room with me as I walked. Once I reached the dresser, I realized there was no way I could dial the phone while I was still handcuffed.

Not with my fingers anyway. I lifted one foot to the dresser, kicked it onto the floor, then slid off my shoe. Dialing with my toes was actually not as difficult as I had been expecting, and I made it through to Jadzia's phone on the first try. I hear a faint sound which I thought was her voice, and started shouting my location at the floor.

"You said, the Castle Inn??" I heard her voice call. She was yelling, but it was still quiet.

"Yes!" I shouted. "And hurry, please."

From: Agent Samantha Jaythree

Ellie had no problems getting into my home computer once I gave her the appropriate passwords. Once she tried to search for any files, though, she kept running into a dead end.

I finally shooed Marty and Ari and Greg away from me, pulled the laptop over to my own lap, and started working on recovering my own files. Elisheva started to protest, but I just shook my head at her. "I have to do this," I whispered, my eyes pleading with her.

"You know, Sammy," Marty was pacing at the moment. "If you access the FBI database from here, we can trace the information."

"You would do that?" Elisheva turned and looked at him rather coldly.

"Oh, he would," I nodded, my eyes intent on the screen in front of me. "But it's okay, because I'm not in the FBI system. I'm in my own files. Or what's left of them." I bit my bottom lip and continued. "Somebody accessed my files, about forty-five minutes after I was shot, and tried to erase not only my current files and programs but everything on my hard drive."

"Did they succeed?" Ellie asked.

"Yes, and no," I replied. I was quickly growing tired, but I wasn't about to admit it. "I can't reconstruct anything from here, but it doesn't even look like anybody has tried to access anything..." I frowned as a thought came to my mind. "If I was shot, and somebody tried to erase my computer records, and Sara was shot after I was shot...then --"

"What did you find to get the both of you shot?"

"I have no idea," I playing around awhile longer with my computer via the remote link. "And we may never know," I frowned and sighed. "Whoever did this, did a damn good job."

"I thought you said she didn't know any swear words?" Ari looked over at Marty.

"Well, she didn't until she started working with me," Marty grinned, "but I think right now it must mean Sammy's getting tired." He leaned over to remove the computer from my lap.

"Wait," I pushed Marty's hand away. "I've almost got something. It's a fragment of a file that was stored in two places, and they didn't get the second half deleted completely."

"What is it?" Elisheva stood and leaned over my shoulder. "An address?"

"A piece of one." I nodded towards the file fragment. "Not that it helps us any, but I can keep --" I slumped back slightly towards the pillows.

"You can rest," Greg interrupted, and I finally gave up and allowed them to remove the computer from my lap.

"Ellie," I whispered, "Call Donaldson, computer crimes, and tell someone to pick up my computer and see if they can pull anything off the hard drive."

"Sure," she smiled. "Now why don't you get some rest?"

"Yeah, right," I replied. How was I supposed to rest?

* * * * * * * * * *

Before Samantha had asked for, I too had spent some time on the computer trying to pull needles out of a hay stack. I had no idea what I was looking for but something told me there had to be a reason why Samantha had been shot. Was she onto something? What had she been working on?

I returned to my room and found my phone. Time to get in touch with the real world and find out what had been happening with the rest of the team.

There was a message from Kiwi giving me an update on their recent activities. I was relieved to hear the Johnson and Piontek had returned safely after we were separated. They were on the way to Wichita, KS to find a locker they believed contained valuable information from the Leah Straub case. A part of me wished I could be there with them, but I knew Samantha needed me.

Dialing the Bureau switchboard, I asked to be connected to Agent Donaldson in the Computer Crimes Division, as Sam had requested. It took several rings before he picked up the line.

“Donaldson.” He answered.

“Agent Donaldson, this is Agent Toews with the Y-Files Division.”

“Yes, Agent Toews, how can I help you?”

“I need to request your help with a case I’m working on. It is regarding the shooting of Agent Jaythree.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.” He hesitated. “ I heard she was conscious and out of the ICU. How is she doing?”

Obviously he hadn’t heard the news and I wasn’t about to share. “ She’s doing much better, thank you and I’ll let her know you asked. I don’t want to sound pushy Agent Donaldson, but I did to have you locate agent Jaythree’s computer at home and see if you can access anything off of her hard drive. We just logged in via remote access and found that someone attempted to wiped out most of her hard drive, but there are still fragments remaining. For whatever reason, she believes there may be something of value there. . Can your people get on it immediately”

“Yeah, well get on it right away. Do you have any idea what we’re looking for Toews?”

“ I don’t know. But the one item we were able to retrieve was a partial address. It may be nothing, but I’m going to have someone check it out just to be on the safe side. Whatever you do find, please let me know as soon as possible, I don’t care what it is.”

“Certainly Agent Toews. And will you do me a favor. Tell Agent Jaythree that I hope she feels better soon and I hope we can work on another project in the future.”

“She was working with Computer Crimes Division on a project?” I asked, somewhat confused.

“Not exactly. We were planning to get started about the time she was shot, so we never really got the chance.” He said.

“Can I ask what it was about?” I knew I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I was going to see where this might take me.

“Well, it wasn’t classified, so I don’t think there is a problem with telling you. We were just doing some security analysis on some of the government on-line information, looking for weaknesses in the systems. Nothing major.”

I mulled it over in my mind, and filed the information away for the moment. I still needed to get someone to check on the address we had located. “Okay, thanks for the info Donaldson, and I’ll pass along your well wishes to Jaythree.”

We said our good-byes and I hung up. Next, I needed to call Foxphile.

From: Agent Elisheva Toews

A Y-Files agent could always count on Foxphile to be in the office when they needed her, and today proved to be the same.

"Foxphile, it's Elisheva."

"Toews, where the hell are you? This place is deserted and I'm the only one holding the fort down. Unless you want to count Skinner and he is surlier than usual the last few days."

"He's got a lot on his mind." I didn't need to say more. With Sara's death and resurrection, half of the agents off in Wichita hunting an unidentified locker and Morley most likely hot on their tail, he had his reasons to be surly. "Listen, Samantha and I have been working on something today and I need your help to check it out."

"So *you* took Samantha out of the hospital. Skinner was growling something about her being moved to a private facility this morning but he left a lot of details out. I don't think he's very pleased with your actions Toews." She chuckled. "He's gonna have a field day with you when you show up back in the office."

"Well I'm staying with Samantha until told otherwise, so I'll deal with him later. Right now I need you to check on an address we uncovered from Samantha's computer." I gave her what we had, basically a street name and number and a partial zip code. "Samantha feels this may be something. See if you can locate it and find out who it belongs to and send a couple agents over to check it out. Let me know what you find. I can be reach on my cell."

"I'm on it Ellie."

"Oh, and Foxphile..."

"What is it Toews?"

"Don't send Fuller or Caleca, I don't trust them."

"Noted." Foxphile quipped.

"Thanks Foxphile. Samantha and I both appreciate this."

From: Agent Kiwi Malone

The Castle Inn was a little more upmarket than we were used to in the FBI, but since the tab for the room was being picked up by Sara's abductor, I figured, why worry? I tapped on the door and found myself in a room full of Agents. Mikey, Scahm, Johnson and Sara were poring over pages of notes, figuring out what looked like an equation. I sensibly decided to stay away, numbers were something I didn't get, as my bank manager could cheerfully inform anyone who asked.

Jadzia came over, made to give me a hug and stopped when I held up my arms. I was still sore. 'Cracked ribs.' I grimaced, the bandages where worse than the ribs, I had trouble getting a good deep breath. 'What's happening here?'

Jadzia waved a piece of paper in my face. 'Code breaking. Sara found a piece of paper in the locker, with what looks like an alpha-numerical code-'

I cut her off gently, 'Can I see it?' I wasn't sure why I wanted to, I would never figure it out. But I had just spent an hour in the ER thanks to this piece of paper, so I at least wanted to say I had held it in my hands.

'That's not exactly possible-' Jadzia started.

'I ate it.' Sara finished. 'Morely wasn't amused.' She smiled broadly.

I sat next to her. 'You ate it.' I wondered why I didn't find that in the least surprising. 'Who grabbed you, I heard you were taken by someone at the station?'

She nodded, 'The same guy who visited me last night. Name of Clayton Alexander. He's not on our side, but he's not on Morely's either, so...' she shrugged, 'He says he has the other item we need, and that he'll contact us when-'

My 'phone rang and I let her get back to the equation.

'Kiwi.'

'It's Craig.'

'Willmore? How's Elizabeth? Is she all right?' Several heads popped up at the mention of his name, and I nodded as he answered.

'She has a broken leg, concussion. She's fine. Kiwi, I need to stay here for a few days-'

'No problem,' I was giving the others the thumbs up as I spoke. 'Take as long as you need.'

There was a long pause. 'How's the case?'

I took a breath, regretted it, and answered through slightly gritted teeth. 'Busy, but we seem to have...something.'

'You OK? You sound strange.'

'I'm fine, there was a minor gun battle, nothing to worry about though.' I was distracted by the sound of Piontek's voice.

'Hey, these are coordinates, map coordinates.'

'Kiwi? Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something important.' Craig’s voice had an odd tone to it. I was torn, but the case came first.

'It's not a good time now,' I paused, then moved towards the door, keeping my voice low. 'OK, shoot, I think that Piontek just cracked the code.'

'No, it's fine, I'll call you later.' There was another long pause. I had a sudden stab of anxiety, this was important I thought.

I heard Sara shout, 'SEATTLE! We have to get clear across the country?'

I turned my attention back to the 'phone. 'Craig? It looks like we're coming to Seattle anyhow, I'll call you when we arrive.' I ducked my head and attempted to talk privately. 'Is everything OK with you, really?'

His voice was tired, 'Yeah. Just great. I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

He hung up before I even had a chance to say good-bye, and I swore softly. Whatever sub-text there had been in his conversation, I had missed it totally. I was too tired. I rejoined the others, listening as Mikey explained the note.

'It reads 47.55943N by 122.32325W. The 14 is N, and the 23 is W. they allocated a number and shifted it by-'

Johnson looked at me sympathetically and finished for him. 'What he means to say is, they are the coordinates for Seattle, in code. Plus, another number, and two more letters.'

I stared at the numbers. 'Could this be another locker code?' I had no idea, but it would be just like Morely to lead us on a wild locker chase.

Scham had been fairly quiet, but something I said made him stand. 'It's a bank number. For a safe deposit box perhaps.'

Johnson’s eyes lit up, 'I know what bank, if you apply the same code to the last two digits, you get a D and an R. De Ruyters, it's in downtown Seattle.' He pushed his glasses back on his face and looked at us. 'It's the kind of bank that deals with accounts the size of a small country's entire economy.'

I stretched slowly. 'Right then. Lets get ourselves booked on a flight ASAP.' Jadzia moved to the telephone, and I turned to Sara. 'What was that you mentioned about another item we needed?'

She shrugged. 'He said he'd contact me.'

Jadzia finished her call. 'We're on a flight in three hours, why don't I book another room, and we can all try to sleep a little?'

I nodded tiredly. 'Sure, someone make sure I wake up on time, I'm done in.'

'I will.' It was Johnson. I figured he felt responsible for the hostile element at the station. I smiled.

'Matt, give yourself a break, we always get shot at. It's a tradition. Besides, either Sara or Jadzia will wake me. '

The men filed out to another room, and Jadzia, Sara and I bunked down in the one we were in. I didn't actually think I would sleep, a dull ache had spread across my back and into my temples, but when Jadz switched out the light, I closed my eyes and was out within seconds.

From: Agent Samantha Jaythree

Elisheva had left me for a few minutes, under the guise that she was checking to see how the rest of the team was doing. I was supposed to be resting. My body might need the rest, but my mind was racing, thinking through the implications of everything which had happened.

Marty came back into the room and shook his head as he approached the bed. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping, Sammy?"

"Has Elisheva heard anything back yet about that address?"

He shook his head. "Not that I know of."

I hesitated, and then asked. "I need a favor, Marty."

"More Jell-O?" He raised one eyebrow to go with his annoying grin.

"No, I want a gun."

"Why?" His expression returned to a serious, but not overly concerned one. "You think we can't protect you?"

"I'm not worried about you," I was just as serious, and I was concerned. "And *they* may not be able to reach me here." I was beginning to wonder if the *they* who had shot me were the same *they* from the Leah Straub case. "But I would be able to rest more comfortably if I knew that I had a last --"

"Okay, yeah, I hear you, Sammy," Marty knew me well enough to guess what I was thinking at this point. "I suppose after that last time, I'd want a piece nearby, too." He picked up a phone, spoke softly into it, and a few minutes later Ari appeared with a compact 9mm handgun. I checked to make certain it was loaded, and then I slipped it under my pillow.

"NOW I am going to rest, gentlemen," I smiled as best I could at them, but Marty had one more question.

"Why, Sammy? They've tried for you twice, and missed both times. Why should they try again?"

Because we were sending a team to investigate an unknown address? Because I was a little spooked? Or maybe whoever *they* were, they believed that the third time was the charm? I shook my head. "I don't know, but better safe, than sorry."

From: Agent Cathy Baker

Following Kendall was no picnic, especially when we got to the bus station.

What a zoo!

After she an Morley and crew were led away by the Feds, I felt it was safe to contact Jadzia.

The phone only rang once.

"What!"

"And a pleasant good day to you, too."

"Baker? Where the hell are you?"

"Behind the eight ball, obviously. I take it you know about Eve Kendall."

"Yeah, the hag!"

"So do I go back to DC now or what? No need for me to follow Kendall around and frankly you guys take law enforcement to a whole new level. It's like a college scavenger hunt. Too many people involved for me. I work better one on one."

"Glad to hear you say that, Baker," I could hear the irony dripping from her vocal cords, "'caus I want Ms. Kendall under observation 24/7."

"No, no, no, come on, now! I don't wanna have to nursemaid that scag!"

"Your flight leaves in an hour. 317. I suggest you have Kendall brought to you. I don't want her and Morley playing together anymore, and frankly I don't trust anyone but you to keep her in line. You know all her tricks. You used to BE her."

"I wish I still was," I mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I said why do we need her? What possible use could she be to us?"

"Are you questioning an order, Agent?"

Whoa, I thought, Skinner trained you good.

"No ma'am, I'm on it."

I called the locals and told them to bring me my little Eve. Then I took a cab to the airport to meet her. It seemed that the nefarious Ms. Kendall and I were going to become close after all."

From: Agent Samantha Jaythree

Elisheva came back to my room later in the day. I was sleeping lightly, one hand resting on the weapon beneath my pillow. I heard her talking with Marty and Ari, and I woke instantly.

"What is it?" I whispered, my eyes blinking several times as I tried to wake up quickly. I hated this recuperating stuff when there was a case being investigated.

"They tracked down three possible locations to go with the address you found."

"Only three? That's pretty good."

"There were originally more," Elisheva sat down beside the bed. "But I told them to concentrate on residential addresses." She shrugged. "Just a hunch. If it's a business, we can always go back later and locate it."

"Sounds reasonable," Marty nodded.

"You're not part of this investigation," Ellie turned towards him.

"I am now," he grinned in return.

"Pay no attention to Marty," I said. "So what about the three addresses?"

"One belongs to a district judge, so we ruled him out. One belongs to a senior management member of FEMA."

"And the third?"

"Belongs to a member of the Canadian diplomatic corp." Elisheva shook her head. "We can't even touch that one, but..."

"But what?" I raised one eyebrow.

"FoxPhile says the judge has an iron clad alibi for his time when you and Sara were shot. The FEMA official apparently has an alibi as well, although nobody spoke with him personally. That conversation was carried out over the telephone due to the fact that the official was out in Ft. Worth after the tornado went through there earlier in the week."

"What about our Canadian friend?" I asked.

"Our Canadian diplomat didn't answer his door. He has very unusual neighbors because none of them seem to recall when they've seen him, what he looks like, or any of the usual things you'd think at least one nosey neighbor would have spotted. Even if he weren't diplomatic, we couldn't get a search warrant based on the fact that a partial address was found on your computer, but --"

"But what?" I was ready to climb out of bed and drag the information out of Ellie. "Tell me?"

"Apparently the garbage on that street wasn't collected on Thursday, the way it should have been," Ellie was now smiling. "FoxPhile has a lot of time on her hands this weekend, because she went with another agent to see this location. While she was there, she discovered that the garbage had been left clearly outside the property and wasn't covered by diplomatic immunity."

"What did they find?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Elisheva looked straight at me, "except for several empty cartons of Morley cigarettes."

"That's not too surprising," I replied. "If this ties into Leah Straub's case, but I'd still love to find out if there's anything else on that hard drive that we can salvage."

"Donaldson called back," Ellie said. "They picked up your computer. He's supposed to call if they find anything."

"Then I guess there's nothing for us to do except sit and wait," I sighed. "I suppose it could be worse."

"Damn straight," Marty had to throw in his opinion. "You could be waiting without me to keep you company, Sammy."

That wasn't quite what I had meant, but I decided to leave it alone for the moment.

From: Sam Mcgee

Morley and his surviving goons drove away, leaving me to the not-so-tender mercies of the Wichita police. I guess they didn't like tourists shooting up their bus station. And that lumpy cop really didn't like my boot in his 'nads. Go figure.

I was taken, in handcuffs, back to the airport. The handcuffs didn't bother me--I had dislocated my left thumb back when I was a teenager and could pop it out of joint pretty much at will. With the thumb out of the way, squeezing out of the cuffs was easy. It was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity.

Once we got to the airport they cuffed my hands in front of me, draping my jacket over my shackled hands. People in handcuffs tend to make airline passengers nervous. They marched me through the terminal to the security office where I was met by that harridan I had seen in the elevator back at the JEHB. She was even more frightening-looking sober.

Lumpy pushed me down in a hard, plastic chair and handed some papers to Agent Baker.

"She's all yours," he said irritably, "and good riddance."

They left after Baker signed the papers. Lumpy was, I noted happily, still walking funny.

She glared unpleasantly at me. "How'd you get the shiner?"

"Police brutality," I told her. "I'd like to file a complaint."

"I'll get right on it," she sneered. She grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. "Let's go, Kendall, or whoever you are."

We walked through the terminal, her talon-like fingers digging painfully into my arm.

"Ease up, Agent," I told her, "or I'll have to file another complaint."

"Shut up and move," she hissed, tightening her grip even more.

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked her. She ignored me.

"Oh come on, be original, give me a hint at least." She jerked my arm.<was she growling?>

We came to a departure gate. Northwest Airlines, Flight 317 to Seattle.

"Not Northworst," I groaned. "The last time I flew with those bozos, the brakes locked up when we landed and we almost went off the runway."

She pushed me down into a chair. "You are really starting to get on my nerves," she said, "and you don't want to do that." She sat heavily in the chair next to me, clearly annoyed. Good.

"I have to pee," I told her.

"No."

"Seriously, I have to pee. I haven't anywhere near a bathroom since I got to Wichita." Which was true.

Baker stood abruptly and jerked me out of the chair. She dragged me to the restroom and pushed me into a stall. She drew her gun. "Two minutes or you'll be peeing through a catheter for the rest of your life." She held the door open while I did what I had to do.

"Hurry up," she said menacingly, "time's up."

Several women came in just then, all with carry-on luggage and all in a hurry. Agent Baker had to move aside, closer to the stall door to let one pass. I popped my thumb and slipped my hand out of the cuffs.

I threw myself against the door, knocking Baker against the wall. She was stunned, but not down. I head-butted her and grabbed her gun hand. I slammed her hand repeatedly against the tile wall until she dropped it. Baker was woozy but still not down. I drew back my right arm and clocked her, hard, on the jaw.

She went down.

I grabbed her gun and dragged her into the stall I had just vacated and locked the door. I helped myself to her wallet, ID, and handcuff key. I cuffed her to the to toilet paper dispenser and slid under the door.

I left the terminal through the main entrance and picked up a car from the short-term parking lot. I had to find a phone and call Morley. He had some explaining to do.

From: Agent Cathy Baker

I came to just as the airport security cops were handing me over to the paramedics. I tried to tell them my prisoner was getting away, but every time I tried to move my jaw it felt like marbles were rolling around in my ears. What the....!

I looked up at the men standing around me, finally found a female face in uniform, and began to try and get her attention. I made low, guttural noises in my throat and she looked my way, smiled reassuringly, and walked off. Great. So much for gender ESP.

"County General," the paramedic told the officer nearest the gurney.

I rode along in the ambulance vowing that if I lived through this humiliation I would personally find Eve Kendall and make good my promise of catheters and hopelessly damaged internal organs.

Jadzia was going to kill me and then Skinner was going to boil the body.

From: Sam Mcgee

I got a room at a little shack-em-up motel at a truck stop south of the airport. I couldn't go any farther. The adrenaline was wearing off and I was sinking fast. Agent Baker hadn't gone down easily--she had gotten a few good licks in during our scuffle in the ladies room. That, combined with the rough handling by the cops and the damage I had done to myself, left me feeling distinctly unwell.

I called Morley's number from a pay phone at the truck stop. One of the goons answered, telling me the Boss wasn't available. That did not improve my mood.

"You tell that son of a b@#!% I didn't appreciate getting left twisting in the wind," I said through clenched teeth.

"Calm down, Mcgee," he said , "where are you?"

"Never mind--the Feds just tried to put me on a plane to Seattle." I wiped sweat off my forehead.

"Why Seattle?"

"How the hell would I know? You figure it out." I needed to lay down--very soon.

He was silent for a moment. "Give me your location and I'll send someone---"

"Yeah, right." I hung up. Like a beat-up old farm cat seeking refuge in the darkest corner of the barn, I just wanted to be left alone for awhile. They could find me if they wanted to. I didn't feel like making it easy for them. I closed my eyes...

"Are you all right, ma'am?" The clerk behind the counter sounded concerned.

I managed a weak smile. "I'm fine," I lied, "just nicotine-deficient." I bought a pack of Morlies and a lighter and left. No spamming FBI agents this time, I thought, suppressing a giggle. My hands shook as lit a cigarette and my legs felt oddly disconnected from the rest of my body.

I made it to my room, but not to my bed. My knees finally gave out and I sank to the floor near the door.

"Aw, s#!%," I said aloud, before passing out.

Sam Mcgee AKA Eve Kendall

From: Agent Cathy Baker

By the time we got to County General there wasn't a spot on my body that wasn't screaming for relief. I'd gotten good enough at my job that I generally avoided getting my ass kicked, so this wasn't a new experience, but it WAS one I didn't like repeating.

I knew almost immediately that the bitch had broken my jaw. And my wrist. It wasn't the first time for either of them.

I also knew I was going to be having some surgery. The bone fragments that'd been barely hanging onto the jawbone(compliments of an unpleasant encounter with a very unhappy CIA operative some years ago)were now free and rolling around, slicing the muscles of my jaw from the inside.

I had no ID, no phone, no hope of anyone finding me, and no way to communicate. I tried to sign that I wanted a pencil and paper, but my wrist was uselessly flopping around like a flounder. Probably dislocated as well as broken.

They kept asking me stupid questions that they knew I couldn't answer because I couldn't talk!

What day is it, who is the President of the United States, who won the 1966 World Series, do you have any pain.

Yes! Finally a question I could answer! I nodded slightly.

"Well, don't worry," a high school kid in a Doctor suit squeaked, "we've got just the thing." Then they hit me with a half ton of Demerol and I stopped worrying right away.

I awoke to heaps of pain, large garbage barges stacked to the brim with it. Some jackass had shoved an IV into my good hand. The other was wrapped and bandaged like a mummy. I didn't have to look in the mirror to know that I had more metal in my mouth than the average fifteen year old.

Where was Doctor Doogie and his array of feel-good goodies?

A nurse on loan from the cast of South Pacific perked into my room all white and starchy and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Well, you're back!" she chirped, "How're you feeling?"

I'm wired here, lady, I wanted to scream, how do you expect me to answer you?

Instead I just made the best "universal" phone sign I could with the IV hanging off my hand. It took nearly ten minutes for Nurse Newage to finally understand what I wanted. She smiled and said, "Oh, you want a phone!" I nodded gratefully. "Fraid not," she sang, and bustled out.

Next a Doctor came in. I tried to persuade him that I needed to write something. He kept asking me if I knew who I was. I kept nodding that yes, I knew.

"Well, who are you then?"

I looked at him in disbelief.

He leaned very close to my face as if he suspected I just couldn't see him.

"Whoo arrrrre yooooou?"

Huh?

"Whaaatsss yooooour naaaammmme?"

Do they let ANYbody in Medical School these days?

"Whooooo aaaare yooooou?" he enunciated again.

I bit the bullet and yanked him nose to nose.

"I han yer pfhather, Luuukeh!"

"What?"

I let him go. It hurt like hell to talk, but I could at least make noises that resembled speech.

"Lissshen!" I said loudly, "Hi han an ajunnnt pforr de Hefff Beeeeeh Hiiiy. Mmmy bosss issss going to kill mmmmee unnlesh hi can caaawllll her and reeepfort mmy sschitschuationnnn. Get mmmeee a gaaaduuuunnn pfenn and pfapfarrr!"

We had to go through it twice, but he finally got the message. I wrote Jadzia's cell phone number down and he dialed for me. I refused the pain meds the nurse brought me. I wanted to be as alert as possible when I talked to Jadzia.

While I waited for my SAC to answer her phone, I added some nice little surprises to my list of things to do to Eve Kendall. They had to do with baling wire and a cattle prod.

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