Part 3/5
Disclaimers in Part 1

--------------------------

On route to Kate's apartment
6:32pm

    I can hear Byers fidgeting nervously with the
gun from where I'm sitting on the passenger side
of the van.  I don't blame him;  if I'd had a gun in
my hand, I'd be fidgeting with it, too.
    Frohike stops the van next to the curb about
a block from Kate's building, out of view from her
place.  Byers slides the door open and jumps out, 
closing it behind him.  He moves to the open window
next to me, looking pale and shaky.
    "Stairwell on the west side.  I'll use the other
one," I tell him, reiterating our hurried, sketchy
plan.  "Wait outside in the hall unless you're sure
I need help, all right?  I just want to get the girls
out of there first, that's all that matters."
    Byers nods, swallowing hard as he backs away
from the van.  We watch him run for about half
the block, giving him time to get there and position 
himself as my backup.  
    Frohike climbs into the back seat so I can drive
up to the building.  It's a small detail, but hopefully
it will give the impression to Krycek that I had come
alone.
    I park the van across the street from Kate's 
apartment, her window on the second floor in full
view of the van.  As I make my way across the street,
I glance up but see nothing in the window.
    Forcing myself to at least appear calm and collected,
I make my way up the stairs.  The knowledge that Byers
is waiting in the opposite stairwell for me to show up
makes me feel better;  having an armed backup is 
always a confidence builder.
    I approach apartment twenty-four quietly, but 
when I reach it I knock loud enough for Byers to
hear, his signal to wait fifteen seconds for me to
go into the place before he moves to his position
just outside the door.
    From inside I hear a muffled call of "It's open."
Turning the knob, I see that it is indeed unlocked.
Or rather, the locks are broken where Krycek kicked
the door in to gain entrance.  I rack this up as a point
for us;  if the door can't be locked or even completely
closed behind me, Byers will be able to get in in case 
I need him.
    Once inside I take in the scene.  Sitting at the
tiny kitchen table is Alex Krycek, the gun in his 
hand pointed at me.  Sitting on the floor about two
feet from him are Kate and Angie.  
    "Nice of you to join the party, *Ringo*," Krycek
says bitterly.  "Another five minutes and you would
be down one daughter."
    Pushing that image aside, I somehow find my voice.
"Krycek, whatever it is that you want, it has nothing to
do with them.  I'm here now, let them leave."
    "Ah, yes.  Been taking hostage negotiation lessons 
from Mulder, I see?"
    I shake my head, not letting his sarcasm get to me.
"Is that who this is about?  Mulder?"
    "Not this time, buddy.  If it were, would I have taken
the time to stake out you and your little family here?"
With a quick motion he reaches into his leather jacket
and produces a thin folder, tossing it onto the table.
    Cautiously, I move forward to see what is in it.  
Pictures;  black and white, slightly out of focus, but
definitely pictures of me and the girls, walking on
the street.  With my trained eye I can tell that they
were taken with a telephoto lens.
    "You may be paranoid, but you are not very
observant," Krycek informs me as I set the pictures
back down onto the table.
    "So, you've been following me.  Why?"
    "I need you to do something for me."  He reaches
into his pocket and pulls out a computer disk.  "You
wrote an article in that little newspaper of yours 
that needs to be, well, *retracted*.  You used my 
name, which is your first mistake, and you reported
on the connection between the *abduction* of several
people from Oregon several months back and the
testing of chemicals on the public in Houston, Texas."
    I can feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck
bristle at his implication.  "I spent over a month on
that article, and everything I wrote can be proven."
    "I don't care.  The fact that anything linking those
two events leaked out has gotten *me* in some hot 
water with some people who you also have a passing
familiarity with.  What I need you to do is take this
disk," he throws it onto the table,”  and send the prepared
statement of apology to your e-mail list of subscribers
and contacts.  Now."
    "You son of a bitch!  You *know* that if I tell them
that I falsified even *one* fact in that article, it will
destroy the credibility of the entire paper!!  Our readers
rely on the fact that we only write the truth;  saying that
we lied will make them think we're no better than a 
shitty tabloid!"
    Krycek jumps to his feet, stealthily moving to stand
in front of me and pressing the end of the gun to my
chest.  "I. Don't. CARE.  This is more important than
your image.  There is a reason why these things are 
kept out of the public eye;  we are doing it to *protect*
them, you arrogant little shit!"
    I'm not sure which keeps me frozen in place;  the 
fact that everything the guys and I have worked for
is on the verge of being destroyed, or that Krycek is
pressing a gun into my chest.  Either way, I just can't
move, or speak.  I can barely breath.
    Krycek senses my hesitation and decides that it
is the first reason.  Before I can react he swings 
the gun around to point it toward the girls.  "I don't
have time for this," he hisses. 
    "NO!" Finally, I find my voice and my body follows
suit.  Without hesitation, I find myself tackling the
other man, knocking both of us to the floor.  Out of 
the corner of my eye I see Kate stand and pick up 
Angie, ready to bolt out the door.
    Unfortunately, Krycek sees them, too.  With lightning
speed, he pushes me off of him and swings the gun
around, striking my left cheek just below the bone.  The
metallic taste of blood stings my mouth but I ignore it,
my instincts overriding the pain.  
    In the confusion of wrestling with the former federal
agent, I don't hear the door being flung open, but the
crack of a gunshot gets my focus back.  
    I look up to see Byers aiming his gun at Krycek, who
had managed to get to his knees and no further.  He 
still has the gun in his hand, but it is hanging at his side.
    "Langly, get them out of here," Byers orders me, his 
voice surprisingly commanding considering how nervous
he was the last time I saw him.  
    I know better than to argue, because this was the plan
from the start.  I jump to my feet, grabbing Kate's arm
as we run out the door.  Angie is clinging to her tightly,
her eyes wide with fear but she is not crying.
    As we run down the hall I can hear two more gunshots
coming from the apartment behind us, then a third a few
seconds later.  As much as I want to run back to help
Byers, my priority now is getting my family to safety.

    
    We hit the sidewalk in a dead run, and I see Frohike
standing in the street.  
    "Langly--I heard shots," he says, his gaze fixed on 
the apartment window.
    "I know," I respond breathlessly.  I open the door to
the van and Kate climbs in with Angie still held tight in
her arms.  "Frohike, call an ambulance and stay here 
with them."  I reach into the passenger window and 
grab the second pistol from the seat.  
    Frohike grabs my arm before I can leave.  "Langly--"
    "Byers is still in there," I say quietly.  "Please, just
stay with them."


    When I reach the second floor I listen intently for
any sound.  I don't hear anything from the hall, so I 
make my way back to the apartment, the gun in my 
hand feeling very heavy.
    The door is still open, and I can see a trail of blood
leading to the opposite stairwell.  
    "Byers?" I call from outside, not looking in there
yet.  I hear a harsh cough, then the metallic thump
of a gun hitting the floor.
    Taking a deep, calming breath, I raise the gun and 
move into the room.  Krycek is nowhere to be seen, but
Byers is laying on his left side on the floor, one hand 
reaching to cover the bleeding wound in his right thigh.  
    "Shit," I mutter as I move to kneel next to him.  He 
looks up at me, his face pale as he struggles to breath
normally.  
    From outside I can hear the distant siren and I 
silently thank whatever gods there are on the speedy
reaction time.  
    Grabbing a towel from the kitchen, I ball it up and 
press it firmly against Byers' leg, trying to control
the bleeding.  Jesus, there is so much blood...
    He gasps is pain at the hard pressure, but there is
nothing else I can do.  
    "Byers?  John, listen to me, you're gonna be fine. 
Help is on the way, just hang on," I tell him, trying
to take his attention off the pain.
    "The girls..." he whispers.
    "They're okay, they're down in the van, Frohike's
with them."
    He nods slightly, closing his eyes.  "Krycek?"
    "I don't know...I didn't see him, but I think you
hit him, there's blood outside in the hall."
    He actually gives me a little smile at that, knowing
that he'd at least done some damage to the rat bastard.
    I hear the ambulance stop just outside the window.
I take Byers' blood-stained hand and squeeze it tightly.
"You're gonna be fine," I reassure him as I hear the
paramedics running down the hall.
    I stand back as the two medics take care of Byers.
I can see as they secure him on the stretcher that he
is barely holding onto consciousness, starting to go
into shock from blood loss.  
    I do what I can to help, holding onto my friend's
hand as we get him downstairs and into the ambulance.
I can't see his eyes above the oxygen mask, but I feel
him squeeze my hand weakly as they load him into the
vehicle.
    As the rig pulls away the sirens start up again, and
I turn to walk back to the van.  I see Frohike standing
there, his face tight and pale with concern.  
   Another car, vaguely familiar, pulls up behind the van.
Before I can figure out who it is, I suddenly start to 
feel very dizzy, distantly aware of the gun falling from
my hand and concerned voices calling my name as I 
fall forward, cold blackness washing over my mind.

-----------------------------

end part 3/5
To be continued...