Busy as he was, Skinner had stopped by the basement office twice,
and he was concerned that neither agent had left a message about
their whereabouts.  But then they didn't have to, at least not
with him.

He dialed Kersh's office from the basement.  "This is AD
Skinner.  Put me through to the Deputy Director, please."  He
continued to scan the office impatiently.

"I'm sorry, but Deputy Director Kersh is not available."

"Anna, I need to talk to him."

"I'm sorry, he specifically left word that he was not to be
disturbed for any reason."

Skinner hung up.  What the hell was Kersh doing up there? 
Conferring with the President?  His lack of interest in Doggett
and Scully were driving him to irrational thoughts.  He picked up
the phone again.  "Kim, get me Agents Samuels and Keating.  My
office. Pronto."

Skinner had a few minutes to mull the wisdom of what he was about
to do.  He was about to step directly on Kersh's toes.  It could
mean suspension, or demotion.  Or the street.  

Skinner laid out the situation to Samuels and Keating as he knew
it.  Doggett and Scully had not checked in for two days.  It was
a breach of procedure that could not be accounted for.  The two
agents were to use all Bureau resources and report immediately as
soon as they were located.  

The two men left Skinner's office shaking their heads, and
Skinner was angry.  He'd taken just about as much as he was
willing to take.  He wasn't one to lose command, or give it up
willingly, but that was exactly what he'd been doing.  What Kersh
was maneuvering him into doing.  It had to stop, and now was as
good a time as any.

He donned his jacket and straightened his tie, and went down the
hall to Kersh's office.  

"Wait, you can't go in there..."

It was too late.  Skinner was already committed.  Kersh was with
two men, neither of whom he recognized.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," he announced.  "But this is an
emergency.  Alvin?" 

Kersh's companions nodded and he got up and led Skinner to the
outer office.  "Will you excuse me, Anna?"

The woman saw his arctic expression and left without a word.

"Now, Walt, what the hell are you doing?"

"It ends here, and it ends now."  Skinner drew himself up and
forged ahead.  "You've taken away the X-Files, all right.  But
now you're hanging two of our best people out to dry and I'm not
going to sit still for it."

"You'll sit still for anything I damn well tell you to," Kersh
replied acerbically.  "You think these damn X-Files are some kind
of Holy Grail?  We have real work to do.  I don't believe in
little green men, Skinner.  I don't believe in spaceships.  And
neither do the congressional committees that authorize our
budgets.  I'll hang you out to dry, too, if you continue to
embarrass this agency."

"No, you won't.  Not this time.  Tell me: have they gotten to
you, too?"

Kersh's eyes narrowed and Skinner saw the flicker of
recognition.  Damn Spender to hell!

"We can fight it, but only if we act together."

But Kersh's expression was once again neutral.  "There's nothing
to fight, for god's sake!  You're seeing conspiracies under every
rock.  Get a hold of yourself, man."

"He got you," Skinner said with certainty.  "He'll destroy you. 
Just like he destroyed Blevins, and Mulder.  Like he tried to
destroy Scully and me.  And now Doggett.  Don't let him win,
Alvin.  Don't..."

"Effective immediately you're on a paid leave of absence until
further notice.  I'll call Connors up from Norfolk to take over
until you come to your senses."

"Alvin..." Skinner began, but Kersh was having none of it.

"That's enough!  Now clear out!"

Kersh turned and went back into his office, closing the door
quietly behind him.  Skinner was stunned.  The Deputy Director of
the Bureau had been subverted, and there was no one to turn to
for help.  He took a deep breath and returned to his office and
packed up his briefcase.  Free from Bureau politics, he finally
had the time to do what had to be done.

***  


Doggett wasn't sure where he was, only that the air was cool and
he thought he was naked.  There was a bright light binding him,
and he couldn't turn his head.  He tested his limbs and found
that he was securely restrained.  Hands placed something on his
forehead...electrodes?  He tried to twist away but there was no
escape.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words formed. 
Every thought was being filtered through a viscous glue of
incoherence.

"We've tried to get through to him using a number of subjects,
but whatever he knows or sees, it's too much for beings like
us."  Spender turned to Scully, who was powerless under the guns
of the soldiers.  "Perhaps your man Doggett can help."

"This is inhuman!  You're torturing him!"  She moved to leave but
the rifles' aim never wavered.

"Would you rather it were you?" Krycek murmured next to her ear,
and she recoiled.

"What in god's name do you hope to learn?"

"Why my compatriots were killed.  Why they are here.  What the
aliens have planned."   He turned to her.  "And aren't you the
least bit interested in learning about that chip in your neck?" 
He lit a cigarette against his doctor's wishes and inhaled
deeply.  "Or Mulder's whereabouts?"

"How is this...vivisection...going to help Mulder?"

Spender flicked an ash onto the otherwise spotless floor.  "Maybe
it won't.  But who knows?  The more we learn, the better our
chances of avoiding an invasion."

"This isn't the way," Scully said with conviction.

"And how can you be so sure?  Do you have some special
knowledge?  Does your unborn child?"

Scully froze.  Spender knew.   "Who told you about that?" she
said warily.

"Oh, come now, Agent Scully.  Surely you've learned to appreciate
my level of access by now."

Krycek leaned down once more and laid his prosthetic hand against
her cheek.  "Pregnant?" he leered.  "How delightful."

"But Agent Scully doesn't know who's responsible for her little
miracle," he said.  "Do you?"

Scully bit her lip to keep from throttling the old man where he
sat.  As much as it galled her to admit it, she was ready to do
just about anything, agree to just about anything, if it would
get them safely away from there.

"What do you want, Spender?"

"Nothing, really.  Not from you."

"So why did plastic man here take a shot at me in Ithaca?"

Spender smiled his reptilian smile.  "Personal initiative, I
suppose."

"Who do you work for," she asked.  "You don't think I'm any
threat, so why not tell me?"

Spender stubbed out his cigarette and regarded her.  "If I were
only younger," he said wistfully.  "You and I would have made a
remarkable team, you know.  Much better than Mulder."

"Do you even care if he's returned?"

"Oh yes.  More than you can imagine.  He's the key to
everything.  That's 
what this," he spread his hands to take in the facility, "is all
about."

Suddenly a scream came through the wall-mounted speakers, and she
saw her new partner contort in a rictus of pain.

"Spender!" she shrieked.

"Get her out of here, Alex," he spat.  "I have work to do." 

Krycek leered as he hauled her up, a demonic smile on his lips.

"Don't Krycek," she tried to reason with him as he pushed her
roughly down a featureless hallway.  

"Come on, Dana.  You're no virgin, eh?"  He pawed her sensitive
breasts and she tried to stomp his instep.  He retaliated with a
crack across her face.  "Don't mess with me, bitch," he barked,
"or you'll end up like your partner in there."

He opened a metal door and shoved her inside so hard that she
fell against the wall.  "I've been waiting a long time for this,"
he said as he laid Doggett's Magnum on the table and began to
unbuckle his belt.  He hauled her up and seconds later she felt
his hot mouth lunging for hers.  She bit him, hard, and he struck
her again.

She wanted to turn inward; to think of her child while the pig
that was Alex Krycek had his filthy way with her.  But in looking
inward, strength was what she found.  She had to free herself and
Doggett, or they might all perish.

Krycek was losing himself in his twisted lust.  She went pliant
against him, letting him bend her to his will, all the while
slowly maneuvering them closer and closer to the table where the
Magnum lay.

"Alex," she moaned against his neck.  "I never knew," she
promised, letting him tear off her pants.  She reached down to
touch him and he nearly came into her hand.  He tore her
underwear off and freed himself with one hand.  There was no more
time.

She pulled his lips to hers and reached back with one hand for
the Magnum.  She felt the rubber grip and swung the heavy gun
against Krycek's side.  The explosion of the 50mm shell in the
small room almost ruptured her eardrums, but she had the presence
of mind to pull up her pants and run.

Soldiers had heard the shot and came running, but she was
faster.  She took aim and tore through the glassed in facility
where Doggett was being held and held the gun to Spender's head. 
This time there was no hesitation as they freed Doggett.  

"Put some clothes on him," she ordered, and Spender nodded.

Within a few minutes Doggett was once more in his own clothes,
and Scully grabbed him by the arm.  "You have to stand, John,"
she pleaded.  "You have to do this."

He nodded and stayed with her as she hustled Spender up the
stairs and out into the corridor.  "Come on, John," she urged,
and they made their way into the bracing cold air. 

She didn't let Spender go.  He was he only insurance, and she'd
keep him with them as long as it took.  They commandeered a truck
and she ordered Spender to drive, gun at his head, as she held
onto her groggy partner.

"Where to?" Spender asked.

"Town, now!"

"It doesn't really matter now, you know," he said
conversationally.  "You've caused an incident at a U.S. military
base.  "You're fugitives now."

"Yeah," she said angrily.  "And Alex Krycek is one dead fucker."

"Such language, Agent Scully."

"Stop here," she ordered, and hustled Spender into the motel
office, her gun to his back.  She fished out her FBI credentials
and held them up to the clerk.  

"Give me your master keys," she demanded, and the nervous woman
handed them over.

She pushed Spender to the doors and collected her and Doggett's
bags, then put Spender back in the driver's seat.  "Get going."

He drove for hours across the bleak Idaho landscape, burning gas
and miles until nearly midnight.  An hour after a gas stop she
ordered him to stop. "Get out," she said, shoving the gun into
his shoulder.

"What?  I'll freeze to death." 

"Tough," she said, and he heard the hammer cock.

"Very well," he said.  "No matter.  You've chosen your lot.  I
hope you enjoy it."

Scully got behind the wheel and kicked the truck in to first,
eyes on her limp partner as she pulled away from the man she'd
just left to die in the middle of nowhere.

"Cell," she muttered.  "Doggett, can you reach my cell phone?"

He was unresponsive as he slouched into the bench seat.  Her legs
were already strained trying to reach the clutch, and her arms
were simply too short to get to the phone.  She pulled over a few
miles away and fished for her bag.   
   
She punched the numbers to Skinner's private line.  No answer. 
She tried his home; same thing.  Damn it!  It was freezing out,
the dead of night, and she didn't know where she was going, or
even where she should go.  She was worried about her deathly pale
Doggett.  She had to get him out of this cold.

She found a tiny motel about twenty miles further down the county
road and pulled the truck to the edge of the parking lot, so the
clerk wouldn't get a good look at the passenger side.  She finger
combed her hair and smiled prettily for the elderly desk clerk. 
She wanted two rooms, but she didn't have a ready story for why
she'd need one.  Plus it might help cover their tracks.

She wrestled Doggett from the truck and almost buckled under his
weight.  "Come on, Doggett," she urged.  "You have to help me." 
She put his arm over her shoulder and dragged him into the room
and laid him on the bed.  She ran back to the truck and retrieved
their bags.

She tried the cell phone once more, with no luck.  Doggett
moaned.  She was afraid to examine him; she had no idea what they
were doing.  She was used to dead bodies, not living, breathing
flesh!  She could make a mistake that would kill him.

Nevertheless, he was shocky.  She turned him on his left side and
piled the blankets over him in an attempt to still his
trembling.  She turned the heat up high, then kicked the
baseboard when it refused to get hot.

She was tired, scared, and just about out of options.  There was
surely an entire military operation searching for them, with
orders to shoot on sight.  She looked at Doggett's pale face.  If
she couldn't get to Skinner soon, or at least someone she
trusted, neither of them might make it.

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

To be continued.

Title: Dangerous Game 5/6
Author: Trajan Dunn

Scully picked up the cell phone and dialed once more, this time
to Sam Domanico at the Twenty-Third Precinct station.  It was
nearly dawn in New York, but the station house never closed and
they'd know how to get in touch with him.

She spent a good five minutes convincing the switchboard that she
wasn't a crank caller and had a serious need to get in touch with
the detective.  Now there was nothing to do but wait for him to
return her call.

She watched Doggett and thought long and hard about what had
transpired over the past 24 hours.  With each hour that passed it
was getting harder to justify her search, even though it was
Mulder who was at stake.  How many people was she willing to
sacrifice?  And what about her unborn child?  

She knew what Mulder would do, were there positions reversed. 
He'd search the ends of the earth until he was old and gray.  But
Doggett was an unwitting bystander about to become road kill. 
And Sam, who knew nothing of what was going on, but who would
answer her call out of sheer loyalty...what would become of them?

Doggett existed within a dream state.  Through his half-open eyes
he thought he saw Scully not ten feet away, staring at a cell
phone and rubbing her hand over the spot where her baby must be. 
He wanted to scream to her to get out, to run as fast as she
could.  He'd seen things, horrifying alien images of rapacity and
privation that he would never be able to adequately communicate. 
She didn't belong there.  She didn't belong here.

"Agent Scully?" he said weakly.  "Where..."

She moved quickly to sit next to him on the bed.  "We're still in
Idaho.   How are you feeling?"

He reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist tightly.  "Krycek,"
he said softly.  "Where?"

"I shot him after he attacked me," she said flatly.  "He may be
dead.  I'm not sure."

Doggett pulled himself up weakly.  "We have to move. The military
will be looking for us."  

"Then we shouldn't move during the day.  It may be safer at
night."

He fell back against the pillow and closed his eyes.  "You may be
right.  Damn, I can't think straight."

She wanted to ask him what he knew, what he'd seen, but she
didn't have the courage.

"Magnum?" he asked.  

She smiled and laid a hand on his forehead.  It was cool but not
clammy.  He was coming out of it.  She noticed the tiny circular
marks near his hairline but chose to ignore them.  "I have it,"
she said.  "A very potent piece of hardware."  

"Extra rounds in the bottom of the bag, with my service pistol."

Good.  At least they'd be armed.  Like Bonnie and Clyde, she
thought with a frown.  The cell phone's distinctive beep pulled
her out of her misery.

"Red?"

"Oh Sam, thank god!  We're in Idaho, in deep, deep shit.  This is
what I want you to do..."

"Hold on a minute," Sam said.  "One thing at a time.  Skinner's
been suspended from the Bureau.  He's on his way up here."  There
was a silent pause.  "Red?"  

Scully heard him.  Suspended!  She couldn't imagine what he could
have done to bring the wrath of the department down on him, but
she couldn't worry about that now.

"The military's after us," she said.

"What?"

"It's a long story.  Get Skinner and meet us in...wait a minute,
I need to get a map."

She fumbled with the awkwardly folded map, and quickly identified
their location based on their last position, route, speed, and
time.  "The nearest town with an airstrip is Hayden, outside of
Coeur d'Alene."

"We'll find it. Can you get there by six PM local time?"

She looked at her watch.  They had almost 10 hours. "We stole a
truck from an Air Force base.  They'll be looking for it."

"You'll have to risk it," he said, wondering what the hell was
going on.  "You'll be okay, Red."

His conviction was reassuring.  She decided against telling him
about Doggett's ordeal.

"Don't call me again from your phone," he warned.  "Hang in
here.  The cavalry is coming."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Take care, Sam.  And thanks."

"We have to get moving," she told Doggett as she closed the
connection.  She felt better than she thought possible, knowing
help was on the way.

"I'll drive," he said as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

"No way," she said.

"You need the sleep.  Don't worry, I'm okay."

"Yeah, okay," she muttered.  But she wasn't going to fight him. 
She was exhausted, and sleep would take the edge off her hunger.

He tossed their bags into the cab while Scully paid off the clerk
in cash.  He studied the map and started up the road, careful to
stay away from the main interchanges.  It was slower but safer.

He stole glances at Scully as she dozed.  He suspected there was
something she wasn't telling him, something that happened while
he was attached to that alien thing.  His eyes traveled down to
her belly.  Was that a slight swell?  The possibility that had
filled him with anticipation now filled him with dread.

He'd seen things, had pictures foisted onto his unwilling
consciousness.  Of slave races, breeding factories, horribly
twisted mutants...he shook his head and her soft snore pulled him
from the visions.  Domanico and Skinner were meeting them in
Hayden.  All he had to do was get them there.

***        


"What did you tell Maggie?" Skinner asked the bleary-eyed
detective seated next to him on the dawn jet to Spokane via
Chicago.  

"The truth," he answered.

"No, I want to know what you told her."

"And I repeat: the truth.  Remember that word?  Maybe you should
start using it a bit more."  Domanico shifted and went back to
sleep.

The truth.  Such a simple word, and so easy to use.  Glib and
insincere, that was the kind of word it was.  But Sam trusted
Maggie enough to tell the truth.  And she trusted her partner
enough to understand why he was going.  He was growing more and
more disenchanted with the Bureau with each passing day, and that
little word was at the heart of the reason why.

Now Scully and Doggett had gotten themselves into a fix that he
might not be able to get them out of.  There were hard decisions
to be made when this was over, and he hoped he had the courage to
make them.

***


Skinner and Domanico had chartered a helicopter from Spokane and
were nearing Hayden when Skinner spotted an abandoned truck
painted an unmistakable olive drab at the edge of a field.  

"Set her down," he told the pilot, and minutes later they
approached the panel truck.

"Scully?" he called.  "Doggett!"  The back of the truck was
empty.

No answer.  Domanico climbed into the cab and studied the
instruments.  "No gas," he called.  

Skinner opened the passenger door and stooped to pick up a
familiar cellophane wrapper.  "Saltines," he said, fingering the
plastic.  "They were here all right."

Doggett and Scully were too far away to see their pursuers, but
the helicopter meant danger with a capital "D." 

"We've got to keep moving," Doggett said urgently as he consulted
Scully's map.  "It's not far to Hayden.  We can pick up the
highway here."  He pointed to a spot on the impossibly wrinkled
map.  "It's about 5 miles.  You all right?"  It was freezing cold
and all they had were the sweaters they'd worn into Ellens. 
Scully had put on her thin turtleneck underneath, and Doggett had
insisted she take the extra shirt in his bag. 

Scully nodded and they set off.  By the time they reached the
highway Scully was exhausted.  She was content to sit while he
stood by the side of the road, thumb out to every passing car.

Finally a pickup truck on its way to Hayden stopped and they
climbed in the back, relieved at their good fortune.  Doggett
looked at his watch.  "Two hours."  He smiled at Scully, and his
eyes dropped to her belly.  "We'll be outta here soon."

"But not necessarily safe from prosecution."  Domanico had warned
her against using her cell phone, and she understood the reasons
why.  But now she just wanted to hear Skinner's voice.  She
regretted her outburst earlier.  Sooner or later the issue of
what Doggett had seen in the garage that night was going to come
up.  

"You think Mulder's the father of this baby, don't you," she said
cautiously.

Doggett looked at her askance.  It was hardly a statement that
could be ignored, but he did his best to do so.  The brutal wind
chill made it easy.  "That's not my business," he said.

"What you saw in the garage," she said. "AD Skinner and I have a
long history."

Doggett fixed his eyes on the passing scenery.  "I'm sure you
do," he said evenly, teeth clenched against the biting cold.

"The truth is that I don't know who the father is.  And that's
what scares me."

Great, Doggett thought.  I've got a godddamned slut for a
partner, or an idiot.  It was true: she was a demon sent to test
him.

Scully could read his mind like an open book.  "It's not what you
think, Doggett.  You've experienced first hand what those maniacs
can do.  I think they did something to me that caused me to
become infertile.  For some reason, they changed their minds.  I
honestly don't know how this happened.  I wish I did."

"So Mulder didn't just run away from it?" Doggett asked, tucking
his hands under his armpits.  He just wanted to get warm. 

"No, he didn't even know at the time of his disappearance."

"Skinner?"

"What about him?" Scully replied.  "Not possible, Doggett.  I
don't make those kind of mistakes."

Well you sure as hell made some kind of mistake, he thought
silently.  "So the baby is a mystery."

She put her hand on her stomach.  "Yes, I suppose so."

"What about DNA testing?" he asked.

"I'll order it once the fetus is large enough to survive the
procedure."

"Is it normal?" Doggett asked, ugly images crowding into his
mind.

"So far," she replied.  "I won't know for sure until its birth."

"How are you managing it," he asked.  "I mean the work, this,"
his nodded to encompasstheir predicament.  "It's too dangerous. 
You have to stop."

Scully coughed noisily.  "Would you stop looking for your partner
of seven years?"

Doggett thought about that.  "No," he said.  "I wouldn't.  But
that doesn't mean I..."

They saw the flashing lights before the driver, and Doggett
pulled the Magnum and the extra clip out of his bag and handed
Scully his service pistol.  "Get ready to jump on my mark," he
said as they tucked the guns under their sweaters.

He expected her to balk, but she didn't. God damn her spunk, he
thought wryly.  He could have handled a police cruiser, but the
approaching vehicles were military.  And they were closing fast.

The driver slowed down and began to pull off the side of the
road.  Doggett knocked on the tiny rear window, yelling at the
man to keep going, but he shook his head and rolled slowly to a
stop.

"Now!" he shouted, and pushed Scully over the edge onto the stiff
brush.  They slid down the embankment into the scrub woodland and
ran as fast as they could for cover.

The MPs spent scant minutes questioning the driver before letting
him go.  They'd found the bags in the back, and the two men
outside called for two more and they spread out in a line to comb
the woods.

***


Domanico spotted the jeeps by the side of the road first.  "Get
in closer," he told the pilot through his headset, and the copter
swooped down for a closer look.

"Where's the nearest military base?" Skinner asked.

"None around here," he said. "There's Ellens, I think, but that's
way south of here," the pilot said.

"Damn.  Sam, they're combing the brush."

"Put us down," the detective said, and the copter set down a few
hundred yards from the jeeps on the empty highway.

"Come back here in thirty minutes," Skinner ordered, and the
pilot gave them a thumbs up before they fled the chill vortex of
the main rotor blades.

Domanico looked around at the stark winter landscape.  "You think
they were in that pickup?"  Skinner checked the load in his
Heckler & Koch and Domanico took the hint.  

Skinner started up the road at a trot and Domanico followed.
"They'll be heading north, up that ridge, but not too far from
the highway if they still expect to make it to Hayden by 6."

Within 10 minutes Skinner surprised a soldier, who instinctively
raised his weapon.  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Domanico
said, training his gun at the man's head.  

"What are you doing here?" Skinner said, but the soldier remained
mute.  "Where unit are you with?" The man's walkie-talkie sprang
to life and Skinner motioned to it.  "Answer it," he said.  The
soldier flipped the toggle and the raspy voice spoke.

"No sign in A quadrant.  Report."  

The men reported in turn, and Skinner counted four, including his
man.  "Talk to him," he commanded, and the soldier finally spoke.

"This is D unit," he said.  "Intruders at..."

Domanico fired and shot the walkie-talkie right out of the man's
hand.  The rifle barrel tipped down, and Skinner took the
opportunity to smash his fist into the soldier's face.

He went down and Skinner rubbed his knuckles.  "I didn't want to
do that," he said.  "But I couldn't take the chance."

Domanico nodded.  "He'll keep.  We'll send someone out for him
soon.  Let's go."

Skinner led them into the woods, Domanico following and
listening, his urban ears alert to every sound.  Domanico trusted
Skinner's instincts and stealth; they'd saved them more than
once.  His own history as an ex-college mathematics professor
wasn't going to do them much good out here.

It was getting dark, and Skinner was worried.  The only thing he
was sure of was that the MPs hadn't taken Scully and Doggett.  He
used his phone to have a message relayed to the helicopter, to
make sure the pilot would stand by at the appointed place.

Domanico touched his sleeve and he closed the connection
quickly.  He'd heard it too, the snap of dry twigs in the fading
light.  They found cover behind a stand of pines and waited for
the three men to spot their missing team member.

"Freeze!" Skinner shouted, and he and Domanico emerged with
weapons raised.

"What the hell is this?" the unit commander bellowed.  "You're
interfering with a U.S. military operation."

"And you're interfering with a joint FBI/New York Police
Department manhunt."  Domanico opened his coat to expose his gold
shield and Skinner held out his FBI credentials.

"An assistant director of the FBI?  Out here?"  The commander
spat.  "Bullshit. Now get outta my face."

"Are you from Ellens Air Force Base?" Skinner demanded.

"Yeah.  So?"

"The people you're looking for are FBI agents. The man who
ordered your operation is NOT military."

"Colonel Adams ordered it," the commander said, moving to his
downed man.

"Stop right there.  Sergeant, I have to ask you to leave the
area.  Let it go."

The commander shook his head.  "No can do," he said, and raised
his rifle.

There was no more time.  Skinner fired into the man's shoulder
and took off for cover even as Domanico barely dodged a blast. 
For long minutes they played cat and mouse in the trees.  The MPs
were surely radioing their base for reinforcements, and the
longer they waited the greater the danger. 

Skinner made the hardest decision of his life.  "Cover me," he
whispered to Domanico, and he stepped out of the trees.  When the
two remaining soldiers gave away their positions he put a bullet
into each of them.  

Domanico emerged, shocked at what he'd just seen and more than a
little afraid.  This was not what he'd signed on for.  

"It was necessary," Skinner said dully.  "See to them."  Together
they applied field dressings to the flesh wounds and smashed the
walkie-talkies.  "I'm sorry," he said softly to the angry
commander.  "I was a Marine.  I'm so sorry."

Domanico called to him.  "Come on!  The light is almost gone!"

They ran north, calling loudly.  By six o'clock Skinner was
frantic.  "They must be hurt," he said.  "That's the only
explanation."

Domanico pulled out his phone.  "I'm calling for backup," he
said.

"No," Skinner said in a strained voice.  "This can't become
public.  You're out of your jurisdiction and I've been relieved
of my duties."

"Fuck," Domanico said.  "Don't do this," he warned, stabbing at
the buttons on the phone.  He stared unbelieving at the phone's
backlit dial.  "Your ass is saved," he said.  "No service."

They headed north toward the ridge.  Skinner trained his
flashlight on the underbrush to track his agents, and stopped
occasionally to scent the air.  Damn, it was cold!  

***