They crashed through the door at the bottom of the stairs, and another blast of the weapons rang out. It hit the door, which had swung back into place and had shielded the two cadets from the shot. Instinctively, Shawn and Ian ducked anyways, and Ian's injured ankle gave way under him and he went down.

"Get up!"

Shawn wasn't strong enough to pull Brooks to his feet, but his strength was enough to help the older cadet get back to his feet, and the two looked around, trying to decide which way to go now.

They were in a dimly lit hall on the first floor. At the end of the hall was the door to the outside, but with the attackers so close behind them they knew even without discussing it that they'd never make it that far. The only problem was, there just wasn't a lot of other options. The bottom floor in this section of the Academy didn't hold much. Just a couple of administrative offices.

Ian reached for the closest door, but it was locked.

"Shit!"

"Come on!"

The two of them started down the hall. There were a couple of restrooms only a few doors down, and they'd be opened. No one ever locked a bathroom. Of course, they still didn't have any idea what to do once they made it that far – if they did. Bathrooms didn't usually carry a big stock of weaponry, after all.

The door crashed open behind them before they'd even stumbled a dozen steps, and both of them turned. There was no one there.

"What-"

"Move!"

Ian pushed Shawn, and then stumbled forward, knocking both of them back to the floor. And again the timing couldn't have been better. Twin blasts rang out, striking the walls.

Shawn scrambled up, and tried to pull Ian to his feet as well. He was pretty sure that the next shot wasn't going to miss. There was no way they were going to make it down the hall, and there was no way they could keep missing. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Shawn had never really understood that phrase until just then.

"Come on..."

Ian struggled to his feet once more, but he was really hurting and he knew all he was doing was slowing Shawn down. He knew as well as Shawn did that they didn't have a chance. They couldn't fight back, because there was nothing there to attack – even if they had a weapon of some sort, and they couldn't run away, because they couldn't get away. There wasn't anyplace to go.

"Go, Shawn! Get he-"

A snarl like nothing he'd ever heard before interrupted him, and an impossibly large, black shape came from the stairwell door closing in fast. Ian yelled, certain that this was related in some way to the guys that were after them – maybe a new kind of attack or something, and he dragged Shawn down to the floor, pulling the younger cadet close and trying to protect him from the attack that was coming.

"Jaffer!"

Shawn recognized the form immediately – even in the near dark of the hall. He knew that dog anywhere. He didn't know how Jack had known he was in trouble, but the hopelessness he'd felt only moments before was replaced by a welling of relief. If Jaffer was there, Jack had to be there, too.

The lab didn't stop to say hi, and the Ashrak didn't even see the attack coming. Jaffer couldn't see them. He knew where they were, though. He could smell them, and sense them. He attacked from behind, crashing into the closest one, and knocking him to the floor, even as his teeth scored across the armor on the Ashrak's back. Ler made a surprised noise as he and the heavy dog went down in a pile, and the weapon in his hand went off once more. The bolt of energy slammed into the two cadets – Shawn had been struggling to his feet, Ian had been trying to hold him down – and they were both knocked backwards, crashing into a wall and lying still.

"Shawn!"

Jack had come through the door just in time to see the two cadets go down. With an anguished curse, he started towards the two, and was tripped up by something invisible. He went down hard, the weapon in his left hand sliding down the hall as it was jarred loose from his grip, the Beretta in his right held tight simply because Jack never dropped his Beretta. His hand would have to fall off first.

He rolled over, kicking out his leg in a sweeping motion even as he did so. He'd fought Ashrak before. He knew it was almost impossible to kill something he couldn't see, unless he could keep that something close enough that he could feel it. His leg hit something solid, and there was the sound of a body landing close to him as he tripped the Ashrak. Jack used the sound as a locator and dove onto it, his left hand searching for the weapon he was certain would be already pointing at him, his right hand pulling the Beretta around to try and get a definite shot.

Kuy couldn't believe what was happening. It had been so easy! So easy! One little human and they could go. Now it was all going wrong. Even as he struggled to get his weapon around to bring it to bear on the human that had tripped him up – how had he known he was there – he could hear growls and snarls, and Ler's grunts of pain as the Ashrak tried to deal with the creature that had attacked him. Again, as if he'd known exactly where they were.

Kuy brought his leg up, crashing his knee into the belly of the human attacking him. There was a grunt of pain, but the hand that had closed around his right hand didn't release him, and he still couldn't bring his B'kedricti around for a shot to rid himself of the human's assault. He struggled under the man, twisting and turning to free his other hand and get it between the two of them. He was carrying a knife – all Ashrak carried knives – if he could reach it, he would have an advantage.

Jack grunted when he felt the knee hit his stomach, but he didn't allow the sudden shortness of breath to stop him. He couldn't afford to let up on his attack; because he knew the moment he did he was going to give the Ashrak under him the time he needed to do something dangerous. He felt the Ashrak start to really squirm under him, and rammed his own knee into a body part, but it was hard to aim when he couldn't see what he was after, and he didn't have any leverage. He was using all his weight to try and keep the assassin from getting up, which meant he was already pressed tightly against him.

A sudden movement under him, and he felt a searing pain across the inside of his forearm. A slash of crimson appeared, and Jack knew he was in trouble. Despite his efforts, the Ashrak had managed to pull out a knife. O'Neill was well aware of how much damage an invisible assailant with an invisible knife could do – he'd experienced it first hand. Biting back a pained curse that he knew would just draw Jaffer's attention from his own vicious battle, Jack pulled that hand back, and brought it down hard on the Ashrak, trying to hit him with the butt of his gun. The Beretta made contact, but Jack felt another searing pain – this one along his hip.

"Son of a bitch!"

He turned the weapon in his hand, and pressed the barrel against the struggling Ashrak body under him. Time for a desperate measure, before things got really out of hand. Jack pulled the trigger, hoping that whatever armor the assassin was wearing; it wasn't something that would ricochet the slug back at him. In the hall, the gunshot echoed shockingly loud.

There was a gasp of pain, but the struggle continued. Jack fired again. And again.