From: martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu (Michele Martin)
Message-Id: <9505041421.AA02834@abacus.mc.duke.edu>
Subject: XOVER: The Witness part 22/26
Date: Thu, 4 May 1995 10:21:21 -0400 (EDT)

scene 29 (cont)
   George Fox paced impatiently in the upstairs room. He had just gotten 
word from one of the men watching the moniters downstairs that Forrester 
had been sighted.  Every cell in his body screamed at him to get down there 
and supervise.  But the man who was, Fox admitted sullenly, _really_ in 
charge of this operation had warned him not to get in the way of 
operations downstairs. Probably because Fox had bungled so many attempts 
at capturing the alien in the past. He was along strictly to advise.  The 
man downstairs had accepted his "advice" not to go after Forrester just 
yet, but that was probably the limit of Fox's power at this point. So now 
he waited for further word or for one of the alarms to sound that would 
indicate Forrester was coming in. 
   He returned to his desk in the corner, which was strewn with papers 
and photos and just about everything he and the government had on Paul 
Forrester and Scott Hayden.  Finally, it looked like all his efforts 
would pay off. No one would laugh at him and call him a lunatic after 
this evening!  Or so he thought...actually, he couldn't have been more wrong.
  There was a preremptory  knock at the door.  Before he could answer, 
one of the armed guards flung it open and gestured to someone outside.  
Two other guards came in, carrying someone between them.  A man with long 
dark hair and a long dark trenchcoat over a bloodstained white shirt and 
pants.  A man who was obviously dead.
  "What's the meaning of this?!  Who is this person and why are you 
bringing him in here?" Fox demanded.
  "Sorry, sir.  This man was attempting to break into the premises.  He 
failed to heed the warnings of one of the guards and was shot.  He 
appeared to be reaching for some kind of weapon when he was shot, but we 
couldn't find anything on him.  Not even any identification.  We need a 
place to put him where we can be sure the target won't see him once he 
enters the premises.  We can dispose of him after the target is taken 
care of."
  Fox sighed in frustration.  It didn't seem to matter to the guards that a 
dead body just _might_ be a bit distracting for _him_.  The only thing 
that made this entire situation tolerable was the imminent capture of 
Forrester.  Fox waved the guards over to a corner where they could 
deposit the body.  He absently wondered who the man was and why he had 
tried to break into the place.  Maybe its isolated location made it a 
target as well as a good base of operations.  No matter.  Fox wasn't 
especially fond of killing in any form, but this whole matter was too 
important for niceties.  Besides, the man had been engaged in illegal 
activity and now he'd paid the ultimate price for his foolishness.
  After placing the man on the floor, the guards left.  Fox returned to 
his seat and flipped through the papers on the desk.  So many near 
misses!  So many times when Forrester's unerring knack to get on the best 
sied of just about everyone he met had provided him with naive assistance 
in his escape.  Not this time, though!  Fox took a few deep breaths to 
try and calm himself down.  Ever since his near-death experience that 
time when he'd actually caught Forrester and the boy only to have them 
rescued by Jenny Hayden's brother he'd tried not to get too stressed out 
or over-excited.  He didn't want to risk another heart attack.  Not when 
he was so close!
  As he reflected on his past experiences with Forrester and Hayden, he 
thought he heard a noise from the corner.  Where the dead man had been 
placed.  He looked over at the body, then shook his head.  Now was not 
the time to be hallucinating.  He turned back to his papers just as the 
lights went out.  At last!  Forrester was very close--perhaps already in 
the house.  He grabbed the walkie-talkie as he headed toward the door.  
As he turned the knob, he signalled to the moniter room downstairs.
  "What's happening? Where is he?"
  Silence
  "What's going on?  Hello? Hello?  Talk to me, dammit!"
  More silence.
  He growled in frustration and tossed the radio to the floor.  "Looks 
like I'll have to go see for myself afterall...."  At that moment he felt 
something poke him in the back.  A hand grabbed his shoulder as 
something cold and sharp touched his throat.
  "I'd rather see what you have in the next room, myself.  If you move 
slowly and don't try anything you may live long enough to see what's 
happening downstairs.  I really don't want to hurt you, but I've been 
having a bad evening and I might just decide to take it out on somebody," 
said a slightly accented voice in Fox's ear.  *What the heck?*
  "Who are you?  What do you want?  And _where_ did you come from?"
  The sword (that's what the sharp, cold thing apparantly was) stayed at 
his throat as the man casually strolled around to where Fox could see 
him.  There was no mistaking it--this was the man who the guards had 
brought in only minutes ago.  The man who had been very dead.
  "Much as I'd love to chat with you, Fox, I have some other pressing 
business to attend to.  Now, I know that Scott is next door and that 
there are two guards right outside his room.  You're going to come with 
me and unlock that door for me."
  Fox's mouth worked silently for a few milliseconds as his brain tried 
to process what was happening.  It had to have something to do with the 
alien.  He'd seen Forrester heal people before; in fact, he had once been 
told that Forrester had healed him, but he never believed it.  But from 
this distance?  And where had the sword come from?  The guards had said 
they'd searched the body and found nothing.  Finally, he managed to 
answer the man.
  "Forget it!  As you said, there are two armed guards outside.  You'll 
never get out of here alive! You might as well let me go now."
  "Oh, did I forget to mention that someone else is taking care of the 
guards?"  As the man said this, Fox heard the crash of breaking glass--as 
if someone had broken through the hall window.  Which was almost 
impossible since they were on the second floor.  His assailant flung open 
the door and pulled Fox out into the hallway with him, sword still at the 
agent's throat.  Fox gasped at what he saw.  One guard had apparantly be 
thrown halfway down the hall. His gun was a twisted metal wreck along the 
far wall.  The other guard was being held by the throat a foot off the 
ground.  Held by a man...with glowing yellow eyes and white fangs.  The 
man growled and tossed the guard aside as he turned and faced Fox and his 
captor.  The fangs seemed to retreat and the eyes turned back to a more 
human color.
  "Did you get the keys?" this second man...or whatever he was...asked.
  "Keys? Oh, right.  Sorry.  Okay, Fox, hand them over."
  Fox stared at first one man, then the other, his brain working overtime 
to try and make sense of what had just happened.  He could hear the 
groans from the disabled guards.
  "I think he's gone into shock or something, Nick.  Could you 
possibly..." began Fox's captor.
  "I wonder what could possibly have caused that?  I think I can handle 
the door," the other responded. He pounded on the door. "Scott?  Are you 
in there?"
  "Yes, detective?  What's happening?  Did you take care of the guards?  
Where's my father?  Is everything all right?" Scott's voice replied.
  "Whoa, hold on there.  One thing at a time.  The cavalry is here.  Just 
a second," with that, the man reached for the door knob and yanked it, 
hard.  The door flew open.
  "Far out!" Scott exclaimed as he surveyed the mayhem outside his 
prison.  He saw Fox and his captor and waved.  "Well, Fox, looks like you 
lost again.  This time, though, I think you may be in real trouble.  Am I 
right, detective?"
  The 'detective' grinned, then reached into his trenchcoat and pulled 
out two things.  One was Scott's sphere, which he handed to the young 
man.  The other was a badge.
  "Metro homicide, Mr. Fox.  I'm detective Nick Knight, and I'm afraid 
you're under arrest for the kidnapping of a principle witness in a 
homicide investigation.  In fact, I believe my back up may be almost 
here," Nick said in a meaningful tone, glancing at the man behind Fox.  
Fox felt the sword withdraw. He rubbed his neck, wondering where the rest 
of _his_ backup was.  Where were all the other guards?  Why hadn't 
someone investigated the noises from up here.  And who...or what...was 
this 'homicide detective'?  How had he disabled the guards?  And what did 
he have to do with a dead man armed with a sword?  All these questions 
rushed through Fox's mind as Nick reached out and handcuffed him. He was 
too shocked to act...too shocked, too angry, too confused, and too 
frustrated.  It looked like he'd been foiled again.  Unless...
  "Wait a minute.  I protest...the other man, he threatened me with a 
sword!  That's an illegal arrest procedure, I'm sure of it!"
  "What other man?" Knight asked innocently.
  Fox spun around. "That..." But his former captor was nowhere to be 
seen. "You know very well who I mean.  The man who was supposed to be 
dead who materialized a sword out of God knows where and threatened to 
cut my throat!"
  Scott and Knight exchanged glances. "Um, I don't think you should let 
anyone else hear you talking like that, Fox.  They might think you're 
crazy," suggested Scott.
  "And that's the last thing you want, especially with the amount of 
explaining you and your colleagues are going to have to do.  Starting 
with what the US military, illegally operating in Canada may I add, wants 
with the witness to a homicide case.  And if I were you, I'd leave out 
the bit about the man from outer space.  That won't go over too well with 
Captain Cohen," Knight said as he herded Fox back down the steps.
 
  Sam crept cautiously forward, his eyes darting back and forth to make 
sure no one else happened to show up.  Al, with the help of Ziggy, alerted 
him to the few motion sensors laid out in this area.  He safely reached 
the side of the house near one of the larger windows.  Now, he just had 
to wait.
  "Al, can you check and see if the pizza's arrived yet?  Then let Paul 
know that everyone's in place."
  "Right.  See ya on the inside!" with that, Al pressed a button on his 
handlink.  Abruptly, the scene changed.  He was just inside the main 
door.  Scully and Mulder were there, along with one of the men from the 
moniter room.  Mulder was removing the man's gun.
  "Okay, hands on your head and turn around.  You and your associates are 
under arrest for kidnapping and possible conspiracy charges.  My partner 
and I have been empowered by the city of Toronto and the Canadian 
government to make arrests as part of our investigation into a series of 
mysterious homicides.  You are a suspect in the kidnapping of the primary 
witness to this case.  Have I made myself clear," Mulder snapped.
  "Yessir...but you'll never get away with this..." the man began.
  "You let us worry about that.  Now, I want you to proceed slowly 
forward to that room just ahead of us."
  The trio moved deliberately toward the control room.  Mulder had his 
gun at the man's back, while Scully flanked Mulder, her gun held at 
ready.  Al followed, unseen.  As the entered the room, both Mulder and 
Scully snapped into action.
  "Federal agents! Everyone freeze!  Hands where we can see them!  You 
there, move away from the moniters!" Scully shouted, as she and Mulder 
flanked the room.  Everyone had been so engrossed in watching Paul on the 
moniters they'd been caught flat-footed. No one had time to raise and 
alarm.  Even the guards were surprised.  Al wasn't sure how long this 
would last, though, with only the two federal agents there to cover 
several armed men.  He quickly pressed another button on his handlink and 
found himself next to Paul.
  "Paul, everyone's in place!  Cut the power!"
  Paul nodded.  He focused on the sphere in his hand, which began to glow 
even more brightly.  A beam of bright blue light sprung from the sphere 
to the nearest power lines, then seemed to travel down the lines toward 
the house.  There was a flash, then all the lights in the house went out.
  "Isn't this a kick in the butt!" Al yelped excitedly.  Paul gave him a 
quizzical look, then smiled.
  "Yes it is.  Thank you for all your help."
  "Well, it's all in a day's leap.  I guess you should get to the house 
and make sure Scott's all right."
  "I'll know as soon as Nick has given him his sphere. I can sense it 
through my sphere.  I think, however, that I should remain outside for 
now.  At least until I know everything is okay.  That way I'll be able to 
help out in case anything goes wrong.  How close are the rest of the police?"
  Al consulted Ziggy.  "Ah, they're almost here."
  "I think I should go warn Connor that he better leave.  I don't think 
the police would understand if they found him here."
  "You're right.  I'll go check on things inside."  With that, Al 
disappeared.  Paul glanced around, then headed in the direction in which he 
thought Connor might be. As he made his way through the woods, he gripped 
his sphere, waiting for some indication that Scott had been rescued.  His 
words to Al aside, he _wanted_ to be inside, to see with his own eyes 
that things were okay.  And to make sure Scott was unharmed.  But he knew 
it was better for him to stay out of the way until the police arrived.  
Suddenly, he felt something from the sphere.  A pulse of reassurance. 
Scott was okay and he had his sphere. He sent a non-verbal message 
of love and relief for his safety back to his son.  Now, he just had to 
find Connor. 

  Connor was impressed. He hadn't thought Hanson had kept up with his 
skills, but apparantly he'd been wrong.  Not that he was worried--he was 
still pretty sure he he could take Hanson's head.  It would just take 
more time than he thought.  As he parried another one of Hanson's attack, 
he distantly wondered how things were going on inside.  He didn't have 
alot of time to reflect on the subject, though, as this battle demanded 
his almost total attention.  As he and Hanson circled each other, he 
caught a glimpse of the house. Just in time to see all the power go out.
Hanson noticed it too.
  "What are you up to, MacLeod?"
  "What am _I_ up to?  I might ask you the same question.  But I doubt 
you'd give me the satisfaction of an answer.  And I won't oblige you, 
either."
  The two continued their fight.  It was beginning to look like Connor 
had the upper hand.  It wouldn't be too long now.  
  "Stop!" a voice called from the edge of the woods.  Connor recognized 
it as Paul's voice.  Neither he nor Hanson took any heed.  Suddenly, 
Connor noticed the pommel of Hanson's sword beginning to glow.  With a 
hiss of pain, Hanson dropped it.  
  "Connor!  Put down your sword, please!"
  "Paul, what are you doing?" Connor asked as he glanced over to where 
Paul was emerging from the woods.  There was a glowing blue light in 
Paul's left hand--the same light that Connor had seen heal Fox Mulder.  
He held his own sword at ready.  Much as he disliked Hanson, he couldn't 
take advantage of an unarmed man.  And he wasn't sure how long it would 
be before his katana became red-hot.  
  "I think there's been enough killing, enough violence, for one day.  I 
don't want anyone to get hurt on my account or on Scott's."
  Connor sighed as he lowered the katana.  Hanson stood at bay, glancing 
distrustfully at both Paul and Connor.  Connor quickly stepped over and 
kicked the crusader's sword out of Hanson's reach, just in case.  "Paul, 
I thought we had explained it to you--we don't necessarily like it, but 
there can be only one!  If I don't get rid of Hanson today, he'll just 
come after me or Duncan or someone else later.  Besides, he kidnapped 
your son!  Doesn't that make you angry?"
  "Yes, it makes me angry.  But I don't want to kill him.  Maybe if we 
explain things to him..."
  "It doesn't make any difference!  I've known this man for over a 
century.  I know what he's capable of.  If he wants you dead, he's not 
going to stop just because you claim to be a nice guy!"
  Paul considered it for a second, then shook his head.  "I'm sorry, but 
I can't let you kill him.  Besides, the police are almost here.  How 
would you explain to them that you're not only still alive but that 
you've killed another person?"
  Connor blinked. "What?  Why didn't you say so in the first place.  Yes, 
you're right.  Much as I'd like to, I can't afford to finish this now."  
He turned to Hanson. "Some other time, some other place.  We _will_ 
finish this."  Hanson only glared.  Connor tucked his katana back into 
the folds of his battered coat.  Then he stepped over to where Hanson's 
sword lay.  On an impulse, he picked it up as well.
  "Why are you taking his weapon?" asked Paul.
  "Safety precaution.  I don't want him coming after me too quickly.  
Besides, I can hope someone else will take care of him before he manages 
to rearm himself. Look, I know it sounds bloodthirsty to you, but that's 
how the Game is.  We didn't ask for it to be this way."
  "Why don't you play a different Game?" Paul asked.
  Connor sighed and shook his head.  "Oh, I wish it were that simple.  
Guess I better be going.  See you later, alien."
  "Catch you later, Immortal," Paul replied with a smile.  Connor  
smiled back.  Taking one last look at the silent and fuming Hanson, he 
headed off into the woods.

Michele Martin
martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu
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Evil Guest Immortal: "I have you now, MacLeod." <clang, clang>
Duncan MacLeod: "I admit it.  You're better than I am." <clang, clang>
EGI: "Then why are you smiling?" <clang, clang>
MacLeod: "Because I know something you don't know..." <clang, clang> 
"..._I_ am the star of this show." <clang, slash, whap!, thud, cool fx>
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