From: martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu (Michele Martin) Message-Id: <9505041420.AA02653@abacus.mc.duke.edu> Subject: XOVER: The Witness part 21/26 Date: Thu, 4 May 1995 10:20:56 -0400 (EDT) scene 29 Inside, Outside, and All Around 4:00am "This is Detective Nick Knight, requesting backup at 4242 Milliways Drive...yes, we think we've found the kidnappers and it looks like they're some sort of paramilitary group. Request that you also inform the RCMP. Agents Mulder, Scully, and Detective Schanke and myself are preparing to investigate the situation further. We believe Scott Edwards may be in some immediate danger. Please respond as soon as possible....we'll try to wait as long as possible, but we may have to go in to rescue Scott." The man the MacLeods knew as Hanson and Mulder knew as Cancer Man stood silently working his way through his 30th cigarette of the evening. Or maybe his 31st. He'd lost count. Not that it mattered--they really couldn't do anything to him. That was one of the many perks about being an Immortal. In fact, the only drawback he'd found was the "inability" to age. Which was something of a hindrance to long-term employment, especially when working in highly paranoid organizations such as this one. Fortunately he'd discovered the versatility of makeup and, over-time he'd acquired some skill at making himself appear older than he really _appeared_...though still far younger than he actually _was_. Now he watched, along with the rest of them. Watched and waited for a sign of the alien's approach. He would be glad when they'd gotten rid of this threat. Unlike Fox and most of his own associates, he didn't really believe the alien was a threat to national security. He had bigger concerns. One day, one Immortal would win the Prize...and like most Immortals, Hanson hoped it would be him. On that day, the winner would have the knowledge and power to rule over the mortal world...as long as some interloping extraterrestrial didn't take over first. This world, by rights, belonged to the Immortals, at least in Hanson's mind. Therefore extraterrestrials, with their advanced technology and, often, greater intellect, must be hunted down and exterminated as soon as possible, before they had a chance to strengthen their position and take over. Of course, he had no qualms about stealing their advanced technology, as long as the inventors themselves could no longer use it against the citizens of this planet. Which he hoped would one day be _his_. Even as he mused about winning the Prize for himself, he felt it. The presence of another Immortal nearby. He thoughtfully took one last puff on his cigarette before crushing it in the nearby ashtray. There was nothing on the moniters...wait, what was that streak? "Did you just see something?" lieutenant Michaelson asked lieutenant Striker, seated next to him as he pointed at the moniter Hanson had noticed. "Nothing from the motion detectors. Maybe you're just seeing things. It's been a long night," Striker replied. Everyone watched the moniter for a few more seconds, just to be sure. Nothing. "Do you think we should send someone to investigate, sir?" Michaelson turned to where Hanson had been standing just moments before. But he was gone. Michaelson, used to the silent comings and goings of the man in charge, just shrugged and returned to watching the moniters. If something needed to be done, ole 'Will Smoke' would see to it. Hanson, _was_ seeing to it, in a manner of speaking. He wasn't sure exactly where the other Immortal was, but he decided to head in the direction where the offending moniter was located. The streak he'd seen was probably nothing, but at least it gave him a place to start. He pulled out his automatic pistol as he opened the side door. He didn't particularly feel like fighting fairly tonight--there was too much else to do. As he shut the door behind him, he also pulled out another weapon--a cross-handled Crusader's sword. The blur that had registered briefly on the inside moniters had been Nick flying down to knock out the guard patrolling the back property. He'd waited until the man was in between the cameras' (which he could detect using his heat-sensitive vision) visual range so that no one inside would see him. Once the guard was unconscious, he grabbed the man's rifle and shot back to where Connor waited hidden in the trees. Close enough for Hanson to sense him, but not where anyone could see him. He handed the rifle to Connor. "Okay, this should make sure he doesn't just shoot you as soon as he sees you. Are you sure you can take care of him?" "Mostly sure. I can at least keep him occupied until Duncan is safely inside and I get the signal that Scott's out." Nick nodded. "And as soon as you get the all clear, you best get out of here ASAP. I'd hate to have to explain to the Captain what our dead suspect is doing swinging a sword at covert US government agents." Connor grinned as he shouldered the gun and gave Nick the thumbs up. Nick nodded and rose up into the air. Connor shot him a glance as he soared upwards, then he returned his vision to the door from which he was fairly certain Hanson would appear. He didn't have long to wait. In a few minutes, the man appeared at the door. Connor drew his sword with his right hand and gripped the rifle in his left. Hanson also was doubly armed, and he cautiously made his way forward. He wasn't sure exactly where Connor was. Connor debated letting him sweat awhile longer, but decided it was time to get things rolling. Al, who was invisibly watching nearby, would inform Sam when he and Hanson were engaged....and Sam would inform Duncan it was time for his part in the plan. Connor silently wished his clansman luck as he stepped out of the wooded area. "Hanson!" he yelled. "I've come for your head!" Hanson wheeled and faced in his direction. As he raised the handgun he held, Connor flourished his rifle. "Don't even think about! We're going to do this the _right_ way." Hanson approached slowly debating his options. Then he shrugged and tossed down the handgun. Connor grinned and tossed aside the rifle. Both raised their swords and stalked towards each other. Al, who was, in fact, watching the goings-on, nodded as Connor and Hanson engaged each other. He pressed some buttons on the handlink and suddenly found himself next to where Sam and Duncan crouched in the trees at the other side of the house. "Sam, tell Duncan that Hanson is out of the house and is busy with his friend." Sam nodded and relayed the message to Duncan, adding, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" "Well, to be honest, no. But I agree with you that it's the best way to get me into the house. So here goes." With that, Duncan snuck out of the trees and headed towards the house. His job was, basically, to sneak toward one of the windows on this side of the house and break in. Or at least, to _look_ as if that was what he was up to. The key part was that he had to fail. This was accomplished by sneaking across part of the area patrolled by the second guard. Duncan made it about three-quarters of the way across before the guard spotted him. "Halt!" the guard yelled. Instead, Duncan wheeled to face him and made as if he was drawing some sort of weapon out of his coat. The guard hesitated only a moment before shooting Duncan in the chest. Immediately, his radio buzzed as the occupants of the house called to question what had happened. From his vantage point, Sam couldn't quite hear what was said, but he surmised the guard was calling someone to come out and take care of the "body". With any luck, they'd decide to drag Duncan into the house so as to get him out of sight ASAP. Sam watched as two men came around the house and picked up Duncan. The exchanged a few words with the guard before carrying Duncan back into the house. Score one for the good guys. The guard watched them carry Duncan away. Which meant he wasn't looking up when Nick dropped on him from the sky. Nick carried the unconscious guard over to where Sam was still hiding. "Okay, that's both of them. Fortunately the cameras don't cover as well on this side since there's no door. So you should be able to sneak over to the window with out much trouble," Nick said as he handed the guard's rifle to Sam. "I have Al to watch my back for me. See you inside." Nick nodded and watched as Sam began heading stealthily towards the house. Then he shot up into the sky to take up his position by the second story window that was closest to where Scott was being held. From there, he could keep an ear open for when Duncan woke up... "You know, this is the reason I really hate making late night deliveries with you." "Come on, this is classic stuff! I thought you liked sixties rock?" "The Monkees do _not_ qualify as classic sixties rock." "You've just been brainwashed by all the anti-Monkees propaganda. If you actually _listen_ to the music, it's great stuff. I saw you tapping your foot to 'Randy Scouse Git', humming along with 'Early Morning Blues and Greens', and nodding your head along with 'No Time'. Admit it, when you didn't _know_ it was the Monkees, you actually liked it!" "I cannot believe we're actually having this conversation. Anyway, are you sure you have the address right? There aren't many places out here." "I checked it twice. This is the right street, I'm...WHAT THE HECK!" the driver slammed on his brakes as a figure appeared in his headlights, waving his arms. In one hand he appeared to be holding a badge. As the car came to a halt, the figure resolved itself as Fox Mulder. He approached the car. "FBI! We need to use your car. Please step outside." "FBI? But this is Canada...you guys aren't supposed to be here. And what are we supposed to do without our car on a lonely road at night?" Mulder sighed. "I don't have time to explain--please, it's urgent police business." He pulled out the keys to the rental car. "Take our vehicle and drive back down the street. You should run into some other police cars headed in this direction." "What's going on?" "Can you please just step out of the car? The address you were headed to houses what we believe to be some sort of covert paramilitary group. Your lives may be in danger if you remain in the vicinity." The serious look on Mulder's face and the tone in his voice convinced the two young men. They exchanged looks and stepped out of the car. Mulder handed the driver his keys and nodded to the rental car at the side of the road. Scully stood by the car, fiddling with her hair. She'd exchanged clothes with Jenny (who was fortunately roughly her size) so that she was now wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. Much more appropriate clothing for someone delivering pizza than, say, a woman's business suit. As the young men headed to the car, Mulder motioned for Scully to join him at the pizza delivery car. Then he thought of something else. "Excuse me? Can we borrow your hats?" The two young men obligingly removed their 'Pronto Pizza' hats and handed them to the FBI agents. Mulder waited until they were in the rental car and had headed back down the road before he slipped into the driver seat. Scully was already seated in the passenger side. "Mulder, if these men really are associated with the man you call 'Cancer Man', they probably know we're in the area and may be looking for us. Do you really think we can fool them?" "If Superman can convince people he's someone totally different just by changing clothes and wearing glasses, why can't we?" So saying, Mulder put on his reading glasses. He also pulled some chewing gum out of his pocket and started chewing in his best "insolent teenager" imitation. He hiked his voice up a few octaves and said, "Are we ready, Dana?" Scully just shook her head as he grinned and started the car. She personally thought their best bet was the distraction Paul was going to provide for them. "Heads up! Here's the target," Michaelson said. He nodded at his moniter. The figure of Paul Forrester could be seen slowly approaching the edge of the outside camera's range. In his hand something was glowing. The color couldn't be seen on the moniter, which showed things in the eerie green color of dark-penetrating visuals, but Michaelsons guessed it was one of those silver sphere things Fox had mentioned. Speaking of Fox, he better let him know they'd sighted Forrester. He picked up one of the in-house communication devices, aka Walkie Talkie. "Agent Fox? We've got a visual on Forrester. Should we send out men to intercept?" "No! Not yet. Let him get into the house. We've got a better chance of cornering him in here. I don't want him to get away. Don't do anything to spook him! Just watch him and let me know when he gets close." "Yessir." At that moment, Michaelson heard the faint sound of gunfire from the east perimeter of the house. Where they didn't have cameras. One of the guards in the room immediately radioed to the outside guard to find out what happened. Michaelson looked back at the moniter showing their target. If Forrester had heard the gunshots, he wasn't fazed by them. He may have been too intent on his search for his son to notice, for which Michaelson was extremely grateful. The last thing they wanted now was for the alien to be scared off. "Sounds like Peters just shot a prowler. Fool tried to pull something on him," said the guard who'd radioed outside. "It's being taken care of." "Just as long as the body's out of sight," replied Michaelson. All eyes returned to the moniter showing Forrester. It had suddenly become the center of attention. Which was all according to plan. Therefore, Michaelson was rather distracted when Jones poked him in the ribs. Jones pointed at the moniter showing the front drive. "Looks like your pizza's here. You better get it and get them outta here ASAP." Michaelson nodded and headed for the front door. He had the door open as the two delivery people approached. He stepped outside, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him and fumbled in his pocket for the money. "Boy, you really can't wait for this pizza," joked the youngish looking man holding the pizza. Michaelson didn't have time to banty words with the man. "How much?" he said tersely, his mind on the goings-on in the nearby moniter room. "$11.21" the young woman, probably along for 'company' or back-up, replied. As Michaelson counted out the appropriate amount of money, the young man said, "By the way, are you familiar with our two-for-one special?" Michaelson grunted a non-committal reply. Apparantly non-plussed, the man continued, "With every one pizza you buy you get....two federal agents!" Michaelson snapped his head up and found himself looking at two guns pointed at his head. Michele Martin martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Evil Guest Immortal: "I have you now, MacLeod." Duncan MacLeod: "I admit it. You're better than I am." EGI: "Then why are you smiling?" MacLeod: "Because I know something you don't know..." "..._I_ am the star of this show." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------