"They knew we were coming," Harm finally managed to rasp out.

"But how?" Mulder demanded harshly.

Harm shook his head. "Don’t know."

"I have to get Scully," Mulder stated. "I can’t leave her."

With that one simple statement, Harm felt all that Mac meant to him. Whether they had admitted it or not, the two FBI agents were deeply in love with each other. Harm suspected each was aware of it, though. From the looks that passed between them to all the little surreptitious touches. It was exactly how he and Mac had been before openly admitting to their own feelings. Back before the incident in Moscow when she was kidnapped.

"Harm?"

His thoughts were interrupted by Mac’s soft voice. He turned to look at her and gasped. She was leaning back against a tree, her right leg bent up at an odd angle and her small penlight focused downward. There was a piece of metal embedded in her thigh.

"God damn, why didn’t you say something sooner?" he questioned, moving to kneel in front of her.

Mac drew in a shallow breath and just shook her head. "I didn’t realize it until after we started running. Get it out…please," she whispered harshly.

Putting aside his own worry, Mulder came over and dropped down beside Harm. Harm unwrapped the web gear that held all his supplies in place on his body and started laying things on the ground until he found the first aid kit. He found some gauze pads and a tiny packet of antiseptic. While he was gathering the supplies, Mulder carefully slid his fingers beneath the edge of the tear in Mac’s pant leg and with one swift yank, tore it back away from the metal. Mac flinched slightly as the movement jarred the injury but didn’t utter a sound. The two men looked at each other and Harm handed Mulder the gauze and medicine. As gently as possible, he took hold of the metal fragment, which was about four inches across and looked up at Mac.

She simply nodded, her hands clenched at her sides.

Harm took a deep breath, glanced at Mulder who was waiting patiently and pulled with one sharp jerk of his hand. The metal splinter came out and blood spilled from the wound. A low, guttural moan slipped from Mac but she held her ground, keeping any screams of pain she might have felt deeply buried. Mulder covered the gaping hole immediately with the gauze pads as Harm flung the metal into the trees.

"It’s bleeding bad," Mulder grimaced, reaching for more of the gauze pads lying on Harm’s bent thigh.

"We’ll have to tear up a shirt," Harm returned.

Quickly, he stripped off his black cammo shirt and then tugged off his undershirt. Mulder took it and started ripping it in strips while Harm put his other shirt back on. Harm lifted the gauze away from Mac’s injury and shined the penlight on it, gently probing the edges with his fingers.

"It’s almost to the bone," he stated, his expression grim.

Using what remained of the gauze pads they swabbed on the antiseptic, applied the makeshift bandage and tightly wrapped the strips of material around her thigh, binding the wound closed. Mulder lightly touched Harm’s shoulder and inclined his head toward Mac.

Harm rose and moved close to her. Mac turned her head in his direction, unable to make out his face in the darkness. Not that it would have made any difference since they were all smeared with black paint. Harm slipped one arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. Mac sighed gratefully and leaned into his warmth.

"We have to set up a camp somewhere," she murmured.

"We will," Harm soothed.

Mulder stood up after adding Harm’s gear to his own. "I think we should go back into the area and find shelter in one of those buildings. We need to get her somewhere she can take the weight off that leg and rest for a bit," he pointed out. "But we need a way to get a hold of Webb," he finished.

"Webb will know something’s wrong when we miss our pickup," Harm returned calmly.

"God, I hope so. I can’t leave her in there, Commander," Mulder stated bleakly, his eyes focused on the distance.

0920 ZULU

OUTSIDE THE NAVAL YARD BRIG

Clayton Webb snapped shut his small cellular phone and uttered an expletive his mother would have smacked him for. That was the second and final confirmation call he’d been waiting for. Harm, Mac, Mulder and Scully had not been at the designated rendezvous point to be picked up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," he muttered irritably, rapping his fist on the steering wheel.

Webb looked up at the building. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this but he had no choice. Something had gone wrong in Benghazi and they had to go after them. Harm and Mac had come to him for help and he simply couldn’t let them down. Nor could he leave them and Commander McShane over there to die at the mercy of the Libyans who so badly wanted the rail guns. Sighing, Webb got out of the car and headed inside. A few minutes later he was in the narrow corridor in front of John’s cell.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to help you."

John gave Clayton Webb one hard glare and deliberately turned his back, fixing his gaze on the wall. "There’s no way in hell you could possibly help me," he snarled.

"You’re not a forgiving man, are you, McKaye? That was 3 years ago! Can’t you move past it? For God’s sake, man, you gave up being a SEAL!" Webb cried, his once calm veneer cracking for once.

"Could you forgive the man responsible for the murder of your best friend?" John demanded, his voice low and tight with fury and he stalked over to the cell bars. "Could you move past watching him die in front of your eyes and not being able to do a damn thing?"

Webb paled slightly and jammed his clenched fists into his pockets. He didn’t realize the older man’s hatred ran that deeply. He met John’s gaze head on. This silent moment was a very unwelcome one. He never apologized for anything he did. He had a set agenda that never strayed from course. Nor did he stray from that agenda. What he did – good or bad – was for the good of his country. It meant that he had to do things that weren’t always right or good. It meant setting up people. As was the mission John was referring to. A high price was paid there in the Iraqi desert so many years ago. But there was more to that story. More that Webb himself had only recently discovered but he’d never be able to set things straight until he could get the other man to let go of his hatred long enough to listen. Maybe once they found Britain things would be different.

"As hard as you may find it to believe, I do have a heart. There’s isn’t anything you could possibly say to me about his death that I haven’t already said to myself. But I can’t go back and undo the damage no matter how I wish I could. That was a long time ago, John. I can’t help with the past anymore but I can help you now," Webb stated, hoping to get through to John.

"Like I said – I can’t imagine how you could possibly help me," John practically spit the words out.

"Not even by giving you the means to go after Britain?"

Her name was all it took. In a flash John had reached through the bars and grabbed the front of Webb’s suit, hauling him close.

"What the hell do you mean?" John growled.

Webb swallowed hard but didn’t flinch under the man’s grip. He faced him head on. "I need your help," he stated simply.

John was sure he’d misunderstood. "My help? No," he stated succinctly, his mouth set in a grim line.

"You don’t understand," Webb pressed on. "Harm, Mac and Agents Mulder and Scully went after Britain. They missed their pick up at the rendezvous point, McKaye. That means something went wrong." Webb could see he was finally starting to get through to the man staring him down.

"Have you had any contact with them?" John asked, his concern for his friends automatically overriding his hatred of Webb.

"None. I just know Harm and he would have made sure they were there. I have a source there but he…" Webb’s voice trailed off. "He met up with them when he was supposed to for the Intel exchange. He has no idea where they are now and neither do I. I have to go in after them," Webb stated softly, his voice deep with conviction.

"What does this have to do with me?" John demanded suddenly. "Did you come here and tell me this just to torture me with it? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little occupied at the moment," he sneered, making of sweep of the small cell with his arm.

"Not anymore," Webb answered. He bent slightly and lifted the leg of his pants. Then he held a gun aloft to John. Smiling with a touch of his old arrogance, he held it through the bars. John took it without saying a word. "This is your chance to go after her, McKaye. I can’t go in alone on this. Once you get out the door, go around to the back of the building and head north. I’ll be waiting for you."

Without another word he turned and left. John stared after him for a moment, weighing all that had just happened. If there was one thing Webb knew about him, it was that he couldn’t stand around idle when something important like this was happening. And especially now that it involved not only Britain, but also Harm and Mac and the two agents who were risking their lives to help. There was no question about what he had to do.

Webb was waiting for him as he came down the back road, running hell bent for leather. The car screeched to a halt and he jumped in as Webb punched the gas. John tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants and looked at Webb.

"Where are they, Webb?"

"Libya."

John was momentarily taken aback. "Libya? How in the hell did they end up there?"

"I’ll explain this as simply as I can – and I don’t have all the details yet. You know Britain is a test engineer – well, that’s what she was doing at Kingsville NAS – overseeing the development of a new high tech gun. The night her house was blown up, the whole warehouse full was stolen from the base. Apparently, right before the Amtrak train was wrecked, Agent Mulder overheard two men talking about selling the guns to a higher bidder and double-crossing the original buyer who found out about the second deal. We’re assuming that’s why the train was destroyed – to kill the two men and destroy the guns," Webb explained quickly as he drove, getting as far away from the Naval yard as possible.

"What kind of guns are they?" John asked.

"A scaled down version of the rail guns. Fires by electric impulse instead of with bullets or gunpowder. We have the guns now in a safe place. From the beginning, Mac and Harm have suspected Britain’s CO, Admiral Michael Cruise, but they had no evidence – just a feeling. Well, I got a call two days ago from Admiral Cruise telling me he was over his head with the buyer. They kidnapped her in the first place so they could use her ID and clearance codes to steal the guns. The radicals he made the deal with have her now and won’t turn her over until Cruise delivers the guns. He gave him 72 hours to do that. Time’s up in the morning."

"Son of a bitch," John bit out.

"I’ve already arranged for our drop off near the port of Benghazi and we have two hours to meet Rangers Walker and McKenzie. They four of us have to get them out of there before this man kills them all," Webb continued on.

"You should let me handle this," John muttered.

"No," Webb retorted flatly. "We’re going in as a team."

1100 ZULU

ABANDONED BUILDING

BENGHAZI, LIBYA

The pain was almost overwhelming. Weakly, Scully tried to lift her head but just didn’t have the strength. She opened her eyes and tried to focus. She was in one of the buildings. The walls were crumbling… she shook her head and tried to focus. There was a single candle burning across the room and she was lying on the floor – she moved her hand slightly – on a blanket of some sort. Another wave of pain whipped through her slender body and she bit her lip hard to keep back a cry. Gingerly, she struggled up on one arm and looked down. The bullet went all the way through her left side – something she was thankful for but the wound was bleeding badly, soaking her and the material beneath her.

Scully managed to roll over onto her stomach. Breathing heavily, she twisted and struggled until she got off the black shirt she was wearing. Bunching it up, she pressed it to the hole in her side and rolled over until her weight trapped it between the hard floor and her body, putting pressure on the bullet wound. Dizziness swamped her and the room swam, the candle splitting into two and then four and then…blackness claimed her again.

1120 ZULU

2^ND ABANDONED BUILDING

BENGHAZI, LIBYA

The building looked as if it was barely able to remain standing but it was full of debris that would shield them from prying eyes and protect them from outside. Harm fixed a place for Mac to rest using one of their survival blankets and a pack. She was pale, her face covered by a fine sheen of perspiration. Mulder had offered to stand the first watch, positioning himself near the tattered doorway where they had lifted an old rotted board into place. He could see the street through a crack along the side.

"This is infected," Harm stated grimly as he removed the makeshift bandage from Mac’s leg.

She sighed and struggled to lift herself into a sitting position. Harm stilled her with his hand.

"Stay still while I put a new dressing on," he ordered gently. "We have to get you out of here, Mac."

"We can’t leave without Britain and Scully. Harm, look at him," she whispered, slightly tilting her head toward Mulder.

"I don’t have to," Harm responded, studying her leg. He looked up then and pierced her with a look. "He looks the same way I did when we went to Russia to get you."

Mac’s eyes softened and she tilted her head slightly to one side before giving him the barest touch of a smile. She didn’t say anything more because there were no words to cover that horrible time. But as bad as it had been for them all, one shining treasure had been born – the chance to finally express their love and stop hiding it in the shadows.

A minute later, Harm tied off the bandage and shifted up on his knees. He smoothed one broad hand over Mac’s damp hair and leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her lips. The he got to his feet and slowly walked over to join Mulder.

"See anything?" he murmured.

"No," Mulder answered without turning his head.

"For what it’s worth, I know how you feel," Harm began, almost conversationally.

"I doubt that," Mulder answered sarcastically.

Harm only smiled. "I do," he insisted. "Mac was kidnapped in Russia several months ago. It was the worse kind of hell I’ve ever known. Certainly worse than anything else we’ve ever gone through because I had to wait and sweat and wonder. I had no idea where she was – only of who took her. There have been many other times when I thought I’d lost her, though. Onboard a sub when one of the men became fixated on her. She stopped breathing on me and I thought I’d lost her for sure…" his voice trailed off as the memory claimed him.

Harm turned and grabbed Mac, lowering her to the floor. Tipping her head back, he cupped one hand around her chin and the pinched her nose with the other. Fitting his mouth to hers, he blew in one quick breath. He turned to look at her chest. Nothing. He blew another breath and looked again. Still nothing. He started to blow once more when she gasped, immediately coughing as air filled her lungs. Harm got her by the neck and shoulder and lifted her up, moving behind her. He held her close, his own heart beating frantically as he pressed his rough cheek to her soft one, closing his eyes on a prayer of relief. Mac drew in several shallow gasps, lifting her hand to her burning eyes. Harm pressed his hand to her forehead, sliding it back over her damp hair as Mac lifted her arm and pressed her hand to his cheek. Harm turned his head into her caress, closing his eyes for just an instant.

Harm shook his head, bringing himself back to the present and looked at Mulder’s profile. The other man was about his height with the same dark hair and a gentle face no matter how much he scowled. Come to think of it, Harm couldn’t recall seeing him genuinely smile except at the tiny redhead he was obsessed with now.

"Well, at any rate I thought I was going to lose her right then and there. That was bad time but she made it through okay. Like I said, there have been a lot of near misses. Once we got stranded in the woods. She’s afraid of flying but I finally persuaded her to go up with me one weekend. We had to make an emergency landing then spent the next couple of days on the run from poachers – one of which Mac had to kill at close range when he tried to rape her. She was shot in the thigh before that and couldn’t walk any further because of the infection and pain so I picked her up and carried her the rest of the way," Harm shook his head slightly, rousing himself from the memories. He placed one hand on Mulder’s shoulder.

"So I do know how you feel. I know because I’ve been in your shoes a dozen times over. To know that she’s out there somewhere, just beyond your grasp. To not know if she’s safe or if… of if they’re hurting her. We’ll find her, Mulder. I promise you we will," Harm stated fervently.

Mulder was still for a very long moment and just as Harm was about to turn and leave him, he began to speak.

"Scully and I have had plenty of those times. And each time I’m scared to death that it will be the last time. There was one particular one where I almost shot her," Mulder murmured.

"Shot her?" Harm asked incredulously.

Briefly, Mulder related the tale of the man they referred to as Pusher. The memories of that horrible day rushed in from his subconscious to meet him. He could see the horror in her face all over again.

Scully walked slowly into the hospital room. There was a patient in the bed – unconscious or dead – she wasn’t sure. Across the room Mulder and Modell sat at a table across from each other.

"Mulder," Scully called.

"Thanks for joining us," Modell greeted, never looking away from Mulder.

"We’ve got dozens of law enforcement officials outside in the hall, another thirty in the parking lot," Scully told Modell, walking further into the room.

"A regular convention," Modell cracked dryly.

"Whatever you’ve got planned, it’s not going to work out the way you want it to," Scully stated.

"You don’t know what I’ve got planned," Modell retorted.

Scully looked at Mulder who had yet to respond or even look in her direction. He was focused solely on Modell. She sat down at the table, looking between the two men.

Modell lifted a revolver and began to twirl the chambers as he spoke. "To warriors of equal skill fight to the death. On is a student of Japanese Vudo. The way of war. Vudo teaches the warrior to leave himself outside the battle. In other words, to disregard his own death. Because of that the Vudo warrior always wins. I am that warrior. I don’t fear my death." He pushed the gun across the table toward Mulder. "I’m going to give you one pull of the trigger against me. One in six chance." Mulder started to grab for the gun and Modell covered his hand, stopping him. "One pull," he repeated.

Mulder lifted the gun and pointed it at Modell.

"Wait, Mulder look. There’s pure oxygen in this room. There’s no telling what could happen if you pull that trigger."

The click of the gun in the silent room was as loud as if it had actually fired. The three sat frozen

"Piece of cake. Your turn," Modell said.

Mulder stared at Modell, never taking his eyes from him.

"Mulder, no," Scully pleaded.

"Mulder, yes," Modell countered. "Go."

Scully was near tears. "Mulder listen to me, give me the gun. We can stop this thing right now. You and I can just walk outside of this room…"

Mulder lifted the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The click again was resounding.

"No! Damn you! You bastard! Mulder, hand me the…" Scully jumped to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table. She turned to her partner and stuck her hand out.

Mulder grabbed her wrist, stopping her in mid-sentence. He looked at Modell first then at her. Then he pointed the gun at his beloved partner. An incredulous look spread on Scully’s face. Tears filled her eyes.

"Mulder, you don’t have to do this. You’re stronger than this."

"You’re turn Scully. Gotta play by the rules."

"Mulder, fight him, you can fight this," she pleaded as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Come on, pull the trigger. She shot you. I read it in her files. Payback time. Shoot the little spy," Modell urged through his teeth.

Scully glanced up across the room, finding her own reflection in a mirror.

"I’m gonna kill you, Modell," Mulder stated in a flat, cold voice.

"Yeah, pull the trigger and you get another crack at me," Modell fired back.

"Scully, run," Mulder ordered even as his finger was pulling back on the trigger.

Scully began backing away. There was an awful look on her partner’s face. She wasn’t going to be able to stop him in time. She started to turn for the door just as Mulder fired. This time the gunshot rang loud and clear in the small room.

Mulder roused himself back to the present and turned to look at Harm. "She means everything to me," he stated quite simply.

"I can tell," Harm replied easily.

Mulder finally moved and turned to look at Harm. "So, Commander, you got a plan?" he asked.

Harm studied him for a moment and then shook his head. "I’m open to suggestions," he answered.

2130 ZULU

USS CHARLOTTE

GULF OF SIRTE, COAST OF BENGHAZI

"Agent Webb, are you sure you wouldn’t rather take a team of my men with you?"

"Thanks, Captain Cannon, but we’re going in alone. We’ll radio if we need assistance," Webb returned, pulling his diving mask into place. He looked around at Walker, Travis and John. "Ready?"

The other three men nodded.

"Lt. Bogard, open the hatch," Captain Cannon ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir."

The four men made their way through the dark, silent waters in an IBS. When they reached the shore, they stowed the IBS under a pile of brush along with their backup supplies and started inland, moving toward the abandoned town Webb’s source had directed them to. Somewhere in its depths they would find Britain. Hopefully they would find the others as well.

2140 ZULU

ABANDONED BUILDING

BENGHAZI, LIBYA

The man was tall and whipcord lean with small dark eyes set in a swarthy face. His men had come in not too long before he did to tie her up and… leave her like this. Like some side of beef hung out to dry. The pain in her side was unmerciful. Scully bit her lip to keep from crying aloud as yet another wave rocked her slender form. It was bleeding again, she could feel it trickling down her side.

"You are fighting the pain," he observed, studying her from the doorway. "You Americans are weak natured creatures. Spoiled by your lavish lifestyles and unprepared for travesty."

Scully’s eyes spit daggers at him. "You speak very intelligently for a radical who kills women and children," she spat.

His face darkened ominously. "It is your people who kill women and children!" he thundered. "You come into our countries and you kill and maim at will with no regard to what you leave behind!" He took a deep breath and smoothed his hands over the front of his khaki shirt, visibly gathering his control. "Do not make the mistake of thinking your mind games will work on me," he sneered. "I want to know where the others are. The ones you were with. My men tell me they counted four of you."

"I have no idea and I wouldn’t tell you if I did!" Scully shot back defiantly.

The man stepped close to her. Without warning his hand shot out and he slapped her hard. Scully’s head rocked back between her upraised arms but she didn’t make a sound. Slowly, she brought her face back up, glaring murderously at him.

"I will repeat my question in case you did not hear me," he stated. "Where are your friends?" he questioned again.

"I don’t know," Scully stated flatly.

Another slap left her ears ringing with a thousand bells. "I do not believe you but it is of no matter to me. Very shortly you and the other one will be of no more consequence to me."

The other one? Scully’s mind picked up on his words. Could he be talking about Britain? Maybe she was here in the building after all.

"I will deal with you later – if you do not die first," he declared.

A minute later the man was standing in front of the first woman they had taken. His men had been working with her continuously but to no avail. She was bound, naked, beaten half to death… and yet she maintained her silence.

"Who are you?" she asked suddenly.

"Ahh, your senses are sharp, madam. You sensed that I was here."

"I could smell your filthy, stinking hide clear over here," she sneered.

He strode over to where she was and grabbed her jaw with punishing fingers, jerking her face to his even though she was blindfolded.

"Be careful, love. You are in no position to be so caustic," he warned in a low voice.

"Just do whatever it is you’re going to do and get it over with," she retorted sharply.

"I will get what I want from you," he promised, releasing her.

Without a word, she drew back her head what little bit she could and spit full at him. With a feral growl the man slapped her hard enough to split her lip open anew. She didn’t show any indication that she felt a thing. His control snapped as a red haze settled over his eyes. He began to hit her again and again until he finally knocked her unconscious, realizing only then what he was doing. Breathing hard, he stood there staring down at her still form. He’d seen men in her position dead by now from the pain – or at the very least babbling like lunatics telling him whatever he wanted to know so long as he stopped the agony. This mere scrap of a woman not only held her tongue but she dared to spit in his face! He admired her will, this little one. He hadn’t seen anything like it in a very long time. He was very sorry he had to kill her.

2200 ZULU

BENGHAZI, LIBYA

The four men slowly made their way through the dense underbrush toward the rendezvous point where Kyle Holland met with Harm, Mac, Mulder and Scully. Webb had managed to get word to the man he finally revealed as being an agent and arranged for him to meet them. Relying only on their night goggles, they carefully picked their way through, watching for hidden dangers like tree roots and snakes. With weapons drawn, they cautiously approached the outskirts of the scarred little town remains. They exited the trees at the far end of town, near the charred remains of a church. Creeping stealthily around the side, John, who was in the lead, signaled for them to stop. The night was silent except for the usual nocturnal noises. Several minutes passed as they held their positions.

"Glad you could make it, Webb."

The four men nearly jumped out of their skin when Kyle Holland whispered his greeting.

"Damn it, Holland!" Webb cursed. "You almost got your ass shot!"

"By you?" Holland retorted, a hint of amusement underlying his words. "You couldn’t find your ass with both hands," he answered easily.

"Very funny," Webb growled. "If you’re done making smart remarks, we’re running out of time."

Kyle was all business as he pulled a rolled bundled from his waistband. He quickly unfurled the papers and the other men gathered around him.

"This is where they were holding the Commander," he pointed to the drawing. "The only information I could get was that they had her on the second floor. I don’t know what happened to your friends, Webb. I moved out of the area as soon as I met with them."

"I appreciate you coming back out here. I owe you one," Webb muttered.

"You owe me more than that," Kyle murmured, flashing a quick smile. "Good luck," he added and then moved away as quickly and as quietly as he’d come.

John held the crudely dawn map of the small area that lie ahead of them. Walker, Travis and Webb waited for a moment to see what he would say since he was the only one of them actually trained for this exact purpose. Lifting his head, John cautiously peered around the edge of the building and down the main street. Then he looked back at them.

"Do you know what this place reminds me of? I saw a movie not too long ago – Saving Private Ryan. Any of you seen it?" Three heads nodded. "The town in the end where they went after they found Pvt. Ryan – the one that had the bridge. That’s what I see when I look around," he explained. Again they waited for his to keep going. John shook his head slightly. "Enough introspect for now. Harm would have looked for shelter in a place that would afford the most protection – especially if any of them were injured. I suggest we fan out and search the buildings that are the most intact. Starting with the best to the worst."

Moving quietly and quickly, they began a covert search of the area, one building at a time. They steered as far away as possible from the building where they believed Britain to be.

SEVERAL FEET AWAY…

"Harm! Someone’s coming!" Mulder called in a hoarse whisper.

Harm left Mac’s side and joined Mulder at the small opening in the doorway to the street. He studied the lone figure that was prudently moving through the rubble, seemingly searching for something.

"It’s John," Harm breathed with dizzying relief.

Mulder looked at him, arching one brow. "How can you be so sure?"

"I lived with the man on a carrier day in and day out. I would know him anywhere – just like I’d know Mac and you’d know Scully," he stated simply.

"You’ve got a point," Mulder conceded.

Very carefully, Harm pulled open the entryway just far enough to get his arm through. He reached for a stone on the ground and tossed it John’s way. The older man jerked around as if he’d been shot as the tiny clunk echoed in the night silence. Aiming his gun, John moved toward them. When he was less than ten feet away, Harm called to him.

"John!" John’s head jerked up and his steps faltered. He stopped where he was for an instant, afraid he may have been hearing things.

"John, over here! It’s Harm!"

He turned right toward the sound this time and saw the barest flash of a hand waving. Quickly, he hurried over to the blocked doorway of an old shop. Harm and Mulder eased the board away and John squeezed through the opening. He clasped hands with both the men, flashing a smile in the dark.

"Thank God we found you!" he declared. "Are you all right? Where’s Mac and Scully?" he questioned rapidly.

"Mac is resting behind me. She took a piece of metal to the leg. The kidnappers got Scully," Harm answered grimly.

"What the hell happened?" John asked roughly.

"They had to have known we were coming," Harm returned with a calmness he didn’t feel. "We were checking the doors on the second floor looking for Britain. Mac was at the third door and when she tried the knob there was an explosion. Somehow when we were making a run for it, the got Scully. We didn’t know she was gone until were in the safety of the buildings," Harm finished, glancing at Mulder. "Speaking of what the hell happened – what the hell are you doing here?" Harm demanded. "You’re supposed to be in the brig!"

"You can thank Agent Webb for that. He gave me the way to break out – said he needed my help with this," John drawled.

"Damn him," Harm muttered, remembering a time with the Webb had broken him out of jail. "If you wanted a full court martial, you’ve got one now," he muttered.

"At least you’ll be back to defend me – not the I don’t trust Admiral Chegwidden," John amended quickly.

From behind them, Harm heard Mac stir. "Let’s move. I have to get her medical attention and Scully and Britain are in that building."

John gave two clicks on his radio, a prearranged signal that let the others know he was on his way back. One click was his answer, letting him know the other three men would meet him back where they started. Harm went back over to Mac and touched her face.

"It’s time to go," he whispered as she turned toward him.

"Okay," she sighed, reaching for him to steady herself.

Harm lifted her to her feet and waited for a moment to see if she could stand. Mac let go of his arms.

"I’m okay," she told him. Then she saw John. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I’m here to get you guys," John returned gently.

Harm touched her arm. "I’ll explain later. Let’s get going."

Mere minutes later, they were back at the old church with Webb, Travis and Walker.

"I think we found them!" Walker spoke up immediately.

"Where?" John questioned in a low, urgent voice.

"I came around the back end of the building and I saw a man silhouetted in the window and then a woman’s voice screaming at him. It sounded like Agent Scully. She’s on the third floor."

The only response from Mulder was a tightening of his jaw. He checked the clip in his gun. "Let’s go."

Harm looked at Mac. "I want you to stay here," he commanded.

Mac’s jaw tightened. "No way. I want to help. You’re not leaving the little woman behind," she shook her head emphatically.

"You know better than that," Harm growled. "But you could help me a lot better by not making me worry about you getting hurt any worse."

Mac knew he was right and the ache in her leg was reaching unbearable proportions. "All right...." she began, holding up a hand when he started to speak. "But I will come in there after you guys if anything goes wrong."

"We expect you to," Harm answered, giving her a quick kiss.

"McKaye, you’re the SEAL here – you wanna give us a game plan?" Webb asked, looking the least like himself that Harm had ever seen with his gear and camouflage streaked face. "But you before you do, let me just say that all we’re here to do is get Agent Scully and Commander McShane. We are not here to retrieve the Libyan leader. Once we’re back home, a team will be sent in to get him."

The others nodded in acknowledgment and then looked at John.

"Since there’s more of us, the best plan is to split up. Travis, Walker, Webb, you go in through the front and try to divert them, draw them away from the back while Harm, Mulder and I go up to look for Britain and Agent Scully. If there’s no detection from the Libyans, we’ll meet back here. If there is, we’ll make up a new plan as we go along," John explained, not having time to cover all the contingencies SEALs were trained for in case a plan went awry in the first place. "But let me be frank," he cautioned. "This is kill or be killed. Clean and quick and with as little noise as possible," he stated flatly, his voice grave.

The other men simply nodded. Leaving Mac behind to watch from around the corner of the church’s only remaining wall, the six men started toward the tall building where the first run-in occurred. They split in half before reaching their destination and Harm, John and Mulder went to the back door where they’d entered earlier. Flanking the little entry alcove, they waited for an instant for any sign of activity. When there was none, John ducked into the doorway first, checking the knob. It was locked. He looked at Mulder and Harm and motioned for them to back up. Along the back wall, he pointed up to the windows. The windows started at the second floor. Anticipating the next move, Harm stepped forward and cupped his hands together for John to step bracing himself against the wall.

John quickly unwrapped his web gear and pulled free and black rope. A second later Harm boosted him high enough to grasp the edge of a darkened windowsill. Very cautiously, he lifted himself far enough to peer over the edge. He night vision clearly illuminated the small room. There was no one inside and the door on the far side was closed. Gingerly, he held himself aloft with one hand while he used the other one to test the window. Fortunately for them it wasn’t latched and he urged it upward. With one smooth show of strength, he lifted himself into the frame and then through. Turning he wrapped the rope around his waist once and then tossed the rest of the window. Hanging onto the black cord on either side of body, John braced his booted feet and gave it a tug and a second later he felt it go taut with the weight of one of the others.

Harm came through the window first, moving aside as Mulder followed him. John pulled the rope up and stowed it back under his webbing. Guns aloft, the three men moved stealthily to the door. With his gun in one hand next to his face, Harm eased the door open a fraction and looked into the hall. Seeing no one in the darkness, he opened it the rest of the way and moved into the hall. John and Mulder followed, a few feet separating each of the three. They quickly traveled the length of the narrow corridor to the empty, darkened stairwell and went up, approaching the next floor in trepidation.

AROUND THE FRONT OF BUILDING

Webb, Walker and Travis made their way to the single front door of the old-fashioned building. There were no windows on the first floor, only the door itself and it was narrow and closed. From a tiny square used to view visitors, Webb glanced inside and saw the faint glow of a light. Carefully, he tried the door and it opened in his hand. He made a quick sweep of the ground at the bottom, searching for wires before he opened the door further. They eased their way inside, staying flat to the wall, guns up and ready. On the left, Walker sensed the brief movement before he saw it and with a flash of motion that was over as quickly as it came, there was a grunt and a guard sagged as Walker lowered his dead body to the ground. Webb and Travis didn’t bat so much as an eyelash. Leaving the man behind, they started forward for the hall that led to the back stairwell the others had used.

THIRD FLOOR…

On the landing of the third floor, John, Harm and Mulder stopped again, listening for any signs of the Guerillas moving around. At quick count, they found there were five doors on each side of the hall. Moving quickly and quietly, they methodically began checking them for the two women.

Suddenly a burst of gunfire sounded from downstairs. The three men flattened themselves against the wall. Shouts and curses rang amid the firing. Harm motioned to John and Mulder.

"Hurry!" he urged.

Harm stayed where he was in the hall, aiming his gun at the top of the dark stairwell should anyone happen up it. John and Mulder started down the hall flinging open doors. The middle one on Mulder’s side was locked. John positioned himself in front of it and Mulder half-crouched at on the side. He nodded and John gave the wood one hard, well-placed kick and it crashed inward. Mulder sprung into the open door, arms extended, gun out.

"Who’s there?"

Mulder’s knees weakened and nearly gave out when he heard his beloved partner’s voice. "Scully? Are you alone?" he called.

"Yes!" She called, not sounding at all surprised that he was there.

Mulder raced into the room to where they had her tied and yanked a knife from the sheath strapped to his lower leg. Two quick slashes released her and she fell into his waiting arms.

"Can you walk?" he asked in a low voice.

Hanging onto him, she grimaced with pain as she swayed when a wave of dizziness struck her. Mulder glanced toward John, who waited in the door.

"Let’s go," Scully answered instead and promptly spoiled it by almost falling when she took her first step.

"Hang on, Scully. You can yell at me later," Mulder muttered and crouched slightly, moving in front of her.

He had her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold before she could form a protest. Mulder headed for the door as John continued down the hall and Scully grabbed for a hold on his belt. Mulder looked the opposite way in the hallway to where Harm was still standing. Before anyone could say another word, Travis came pounding up the stairs.

"Hurry!" he called, seeing Mulder and Scully over Harm’s shoulder.

Without warning an explosion rocked the building, the force almost knocking Travis down the stairs. Harm made a grab for him, bringing the younger man up on the landing.

Mulder looked to John and then back to Harm. "Find Britain!" he yelled as he made his way to Harm. Travis took the initiative and ran down the hall to cover John.

John hurried on, flinging open door after door.

Down below, Webb and Walker ducked behind some boxes at the base of the stairwell and fired into the front room. There was no other way up or down to the upper floors since the explosion the Libyans had just set off destroyed the front staircase.

********

From her vantage point at the church, Mac worriedly watched and waited. The explosion shook the ground where she was standing and she bit her lip. They had to be all right. Gunfire filled the night sky and she’d never felt more helpless in her life.

**********

She heard the gunfire from far below first and then men yelling. Her ears picked up their American accents and her heart went wild. Could someone be here to get her? She’d heard gunfire earlier in the night, too, but then nothing had happened. A blast echoed from the depths of her prison, shaking her and the cot she was strapped to. The silent world she’d been trapped in for days suddenly came to life with a cacophony of sounds. The other sounds – the Americans yelling at each other and doors slamming – was close. They were close to her!

**********

John came to the end of the hall and the last door. Travis nodded and kicked the door in. John swung his gun wide, looking for signs of the enemy. Instead he found a cot with a nude woman tied to it and his heart stopped. Then it began beating furiously, pounding so hard against his chest he feared it may burst out. He covered the distance swiftly, kneeling at her side.

"Britain?" He whispered almost reverently, forgetting all about what was happening outside.

Britain McShane had never heard a sweeter sound in her whole life.

"John?" she answered weakly, relief unlike she’d ever known flooding her every nerve.

John wanted to take her in her arms and shut out the rest of the world. "I came to get you," he whispered.

"But..." she began.

"John! Is it Britain?" Travis called from the doorway.

"Yeah!" John called back, never taking his gaze from her. "We have to go and I know this is going to cause you a hell of a lot of pain but we have to hurry," he told her quickly, all business again.

"Just get me out of here," she retorted.

John cut the ties holding her limbs to the cot and then cut apart her wrists and ankles. As carefully as possible, pulled the edges of the blanket beneath her up to cover her as best as he could and slid him arms under her back and legs. Standing, he brought her up against his chest and turned for the door. Britain bit her lip against the waves of pain that threatened to make her pass out. She couldn’t give into it now that they were so close.

John followed Travis into the hall and they joined Harm, Mulder and Scully at the top of the stairs. Harm could have wept when he saw the fragile bundle John held. She didn’t bear any resemblance to the picture John had once shown him of her but he knew it was her all the same.

"Ready?" Was all he said, looking at his friends.

The other three men nodded. With Harm and Travis in the lead, they started down the stairs. The gunfire was diminishing down below. John and Mulder proceeded a little more slowly, both with their guns out, too. They came upon Walker and Webb still crouched behind their protective barrier. Harm and Travis ducked down next to them, leaving Mulder and John behind the turn of the wall out of sight.

Webb glanced over his shoulder and saw that they were all there and looked back at Harm. "Some of them retreated. They may be outside the door for all we know," he stated.

Harm peered around the edge of stack of heavy boxes. "We’ll chance it. Let’s move now. Push the boxes as we go and stay behind them," he ordered, taking command. He looked back at John and Mulder. "Stay there until we get across to the door."

Several more gunshots rang out, hitting the boxes and the wall around them sending pieces of block flying in all directions. They ducked and Walker fired several rounds in return. The Libyans couldn’t be seen from the other side but fire filled the scene behind them and it was moving in their direction. Harm raised himself slightly and looked at Webb.

"Now!" he cried and pushed the boxes forward, moving behind them.

The Libyans fired steadily but it took only seconds and they were in the back doorway. Harm stood and aimed his gun around the corner, squeezing off two shots at the Libyans. Webb stood back a foot on the other side of the doorway and Walker crouched low in the center, edging around the boxes.

"Run!" Harm called to John and Mulder.

Firing as they went, the two men crossed the last remaining feet with their two bundles. Mulder stumbled at the last second and blood splattered the boxes but he didn’t go down.

"I’m hit," he mumbled.

"Can you make it?" John demanded.

"Yeah. Let’s go," Mulder shot back.

Travis took the lead this time and moved to the little alcove that remained between them and the outside. Webb moved up behind him and then John and Mulder in the middle with Harm and Walker bringing up the rear. As Travis swung his gun around, a shot splintered the brick above his head and he ducked back.

"They’ve covered us!" he cried to the others.

Reaching for the belt around his waist he pulled a grenade free and tugged the pin out with his teeth, spitting it on the ground. Darting out, Travis threw it at the men firing. It exploded and the small group raced forward. Gunfire scattered the dirt at their feet as they dodged behind what remained of an old car in the street. Harm and Webb fired from both sides. The Libyans continued to shoot and through the red glow of fire, the small group of Americans saw several more of the Guerillas run into view, guns belching. Travis tugged another grenade free, pulled the pin and threw it directly into the melee. The advanced again, making it the rest of the way across the street and into the shelter of an alley.

Harm held up his gun as he ran and dropped the spent clip so he could slide another one in. He moved to the side and John and Mulder moved ahead. "Keep running! Head for Mac!" Harm ordered.

Mac was ready and waiting when they came into sight, running hell bent for leather. Aiming her gun, she waited as they rounded the corner, breathing hard. John and Mulder were first, carrying the two women they’d come to rescue. Webb came next running backward as he continued to fire at the approaching Libyans.

"Head for the shore!" John ordered, shouldering Mac into moving.

She caught sight of Harm in the rear with Walker just as she heard John’s order. Through the haze and smoke, Harm waved one hand at her, echoing John’s command to go. Turning, she started running, moving as fast as she could on her bad leg.

Without knowing if everyone was even together, the group raced into the trees, aimed for the shore where the IBS waited. At the edge of the tattered little town, Harm turned as Walker met up with him and threw one of his own grenades. They didn’t have the firepower the Libyans had with their automatic rifles. Thank God they’d had the foresight to bring the grenades. The two men disappeared into the trees behind the others, the Libyans still behind them. Worrying more about getting away, they crashed through the trees and underbrush. Minutes that felt like hours passed and they could hear the pounding footsteps, cries and curses behind them. Mac, John and Britain got to the clearing first, stopping just inside the safety of the trees. The beach ahead was clear.

"Uncover the boat!" John told Mac. "I’ll cover you – go!"

Mac raced out into the open toward the small, overgrown dune he’d pointed to. Frantically, she yanked the foliage off the IBS and pushed with all her might to get it to the water. She looked back and watched John and Mulder move into the clearing, coming toward her. Both women were carefully deposited and Scully turned to tend to Britain while John lifted Mac into the boat and then looked back to the trees. The other men - Webb, Travis, Harm and Walker all came tearing into the open, firing behind them as they ran. Suddenly, gunfire erupted at them from another direction. Mac gasped as bullets hit the water. John and Mulder fired at the Libyans approaching them from the beach. John was already waist deep in the water pushing the boat out when the others reached them. Travis climbed in followed by Webb, leaving only Harm and Walker.

"Get in!" John yelled to Mulder.

Then he jumped in himself. The Libyans were almost on them and the small group ducked into the recesses of the boat. John yanked the pin off a grenade and threw it, immediately reaching for another one and throwing it in the other direction. Explosions rocked the beach. Harm hauled himself through the water to the IBS and then Walker. John fired the engine as Harm and Travis threw two more grenades and then they were racing toward the open sea, leaving the beach behind. Gunfire still pelted the water around them. Mac was trying to help Scully get Britain free of all her ties when there was a grunt and a heavy weight knocked her to the bottom of the boat.

"Oh my God!" Mac cried. "Walker!"

End of Illusion