He wouldn't leave until he got what he came for.
When one bullet took him in the thigh, Krycek slid behind some
crates for cover. He laid down subduing fire and, during a lull, tied
a ripped-off piece of his T-shirt around his leg to slow the
bleeding. It was hard with no light—which he'd taken out for the
whole building once they'd discovered him—but he managed. He
had better than average night vision. When he finished tending to
his leg, Krycek pushed a crate into the path of some oncoming
goons and started running again.
His blood pounded through his head, and there was a spreading
weakness in the leg, but he didn't have the time to stop. Later.
He reached the proper door and dialed the code into the lock.
Information on the unlocking code, the building's floorplan, and
the identities of the people involved had cost him but was well
worth it. Krycek opened the heavy door, set it to stay open, and
walked into the vault.
Mulder lay motionless on a pallet surrounded by cases of stolen
jewelry, priceless art, and unmarked bills. Krycek peeled back one
of the agent's eyelids and shone a small flashlight at the eye.
Mulder had obviously been the recipient of a partyload of drugs.
Krycek stroked three fingers down the left cheekbone of the
sleeping face.
Krycek pulled him up into a fireman's carry. Mulder didn't wake
up or respond, just hung limp as a ragdoll. The younger man
fought down some very dirty thoughts. Later.
Once he left the vault, Krycek settled into a fast, steady pace that
jarred his leg and Mulder as little as possible. He'd almost reached
the door when three spotlights came on, blinding him. He barely
dodged the fist that flew at his face.
Krycek backed up into some empty space and looked around. Five
goons, one of whom blocked the door, and an older man in a suit
surrounded him at various distances. All had guns pointed at him
and Mulder.
"I believe you stole something of ours, Mr. Krycek," the suit
shouted.
"It's not stealing when I take back what's mine." As he shifted
Mulder's weight on his shoulder, Krycek shot quick looks around
the room to find out who had which weapon. He thought of
angles, trajectories, and the shooters' speeds.
He loved this, loved the danger and the challenge of playing his
life like a high stakes game of pool. He shifted Mulder on his
shoulder and heard a small moan. He intended to hear it again
under different circumstances later.
He stood utterly still, waited until they started to relax a little, then
made his move. He zigzagged around the man at the door and
smiled as the body served as cover for the hail of bullets that
followed. The cool night air singing through him, he ran to the car
and got the both of them inside, slamming the door behind them.
Krycek cursed as he climbed over the stick shift to the driver's
seat. He started the car and stomped the accelerator just as his
hunters cleared the turn. One bounced off the windshield and
another off the front grill as he peeled out of the alley.
Mulder, not belted in, started to slide to the floor. Krycek pulled
him up with one arm and pushed him back against the seat.
The dashboard lights underlit the agent's face in green and red. He
looked like a guileless child taking a nap after a long, busy day.
Despite the returning pain in his leg, Krycek started to smile. A
firm believer in enjoying a mix of business with pleasure whenever
he could, he looked forward to questioning Mulder himself.
end...
Focused
by Viridian5
Alex Krycek shot down his fifth lackey for the night and kept
running. He'd meant to slip into the warehouse unnoticed, pick up
the package, and get out with no one the wiser. Stupid human
luck, good for them and bad for him, had ruined that plan. A
shame, but shit happens. No use complaining about it.
