Disclaimer in Part 1.

ooooooooooooooo

Karen Fisher slammed the door shut and locked it. Then she pressed her forehead against the wood and forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to clear her head and figure out what to do.

She'd never been so frightened as she was a few minutes ago, not even when she'd watched one man murder another. That had been so sudden, so shocking, that she hadn't even had time to do more than etch the man's face into her mind and get the hell out. Even later, sitting in the courtroom, watching a killer draw a line across his throat, she'd mostly managed to shrug it off. Bravado, she'd told herself. What else could a man who was about to be sent to prison for the rest of his natural life do besides make empty threats?

When the FBI agent first came to her office, she'd shrugged that off, too. It had given her a creepy feeling to think of that murderer out on the loose, but escaped prisoners only went out for revenge in the movies, right? Normal people would stay out of sight and concentrate on getting away.

But normal people wouldn't have been in jail for murder. The second time Agent Eppes came by, her heart sank. She'd already told herself, and him, that she wasn't leaving her patients unless the situation was dire. Now, thanks to some screw-up on the part of the police, things were bad indeed. And so she found herself escorted to a dark-windowed Suburban, making a stop at home long enough to pack a bag for God knew how long, and shuttled off to this empty hotel on the edge of downtown.

A couple of days had passed uneventfully, and she was already wearing a track in the carpet of her little suite with her pacing. Somehow the latest New England Journal of Medicine couldn't hold her attention, and she'd decided years ago that 95 percent of what was on TV was utter garbage. No phone calls were allowed, and she couldn't strike up much of a conversation with the men standing guard outside.

Later, she realized it wasn't the violence itself, but the suddenness of it all that was the worst part. One minute she was staring at the same magazine page she'd been looking at for the past five minutes. Then there was a thump outside, and the door burst open to reveal her worst nightmare.

She'd screamed as McDowd dragged her from the room, until he slapped her across the face. He had a gun and a tight hold on her arm and he was dragging her up to the roof and she was going to die. That was it. Not even time to wonder how the FBI had screwed up again.

Then there were shouts down the staircase, and she didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see anyone in her life. Agent Eppes, who must have been appointed as her personal protector, was racing up the stairs towards them. McDowd stopped running long enough to fire, and to her shock, the FBI agent fired back. She tried to make herself as small as possible, to pull away from the man holding her captive. There was another shot from below, and finally McDowd shoved her back against the wall and took off up the stairs.

Instantly Agent Eppes pounded up the steps, shouting at her to go inside and lock the door. She hurriedly obeyed, stepping aside as the taller, sandy-haired Agent Cooper came charging after him. The sight of the man who had been guarding her crumpled in the hallway gave her pause, but as she knelt down and took his pulse, she breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor in her taking over, she hurriedly assessed his condition and decided not to move him. The swelling on the back of his head made it clear how he'd been rendered unconscious, but she didn't know what other damage there might be. She'd call from inside the room for paramedics, assuming the two FBI agents hadn't already done so.

She tried the door across the hall, but it was locked. So was the next one down. She felt trapped, returning to the same room McDowd had just invaded, but she didn't have much of a choice. Hurrying out of the hallway, she locked the door and took a deep breath. All right, she told herself. Get a plan, Karen. She reached for the telephone, but there was no dial tone. Obviously, McDowd had had help gettting here, and that help had been fairly thorough.

Her head jerked up as a thought occurred to her. That help had to be inside, or he couldn't have found the FBI safe house. She couldn't trust anybody, not even the knight in shining armor she'd thought Don Eppes to be.

No. She'd talked with him on the drive over here, and from that and his visits to her office, she knew he was sincere in his concern for her and his determination to track down McDowd. She could trust him, and his partner, Cooper. But no one else.

She went to the window and looked out. There was a fire escape, somewhat old and rickety, but hopefully it would hold her for the eleven floors it took to get down. She threw open the window and heard the welcome sound of sirens converging from different directions. They couldn't all be in on it. As long as she stayed with multiple people until Agent Eppes came back, she'd be fine.

Then she heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by a shout that made her blood run cold. "Karen!" It was McDowd. "Where are you hiding, girl?"

She shrank back against the window, even though the door was closed and she knew he couldn't see her. The footsteps stopped in front of her door. She cursed herself for not thinking to grab the gun from the guard in the hallway, but it was too late. Putting a hand on the windowsill, she started to climb out.

"I know you're in there." Something pounded on the door. "I've got your FBI friend here, Karen. Open the door or I blow his brains out."

She froze. No. There were two of them on the roof and only one of him. He couldn't have overpowered them both. He had to be bluffing.

"I'm not joking around!"

"Karen, get out of there!" That was Don Eppes' voice, no doubt about it. It was followed by a cracking sound and a grunt of pain.

"I mean it, girl! You let me in or he's dead!"

She closed her eyes. The sirens were coming from directly below, which meant they would have help within minutes. But it sounded like Agent Eppes didn't have that long. "All right!" she called out weakly. "All right."

She slowly walked over to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open. Standing in front of her was Agent Eppes, blood trickling down his right cheek, a gun pressed against his right temple. His eyes met hers, and she was surprised to see more determination and anger than fear. She was sure that fear was the only emotion she was reflecting back at him.

Behind him was McDowd, his face wreathed in a horrible smile. "Thanks, Karen," he said maliciously. "So much easier than breaking down the door."

"Let him go," she said suddenly. Her voice only wobbled a little as she went on, "He's… he's not the one you're after."

"No, but he's my ticket out of here." He gave the FBI agent a shove, and Don stumbled into the room. McDowd followed closely, keeping the gun at his head. "You, on the other hand, are about to go."

She swallowed and took a step back, then another. This was it. She couldn't think of anything to say, any way to stall him long enough for the officers downstairs to come racing to the rescue. Her gaze met Don's again, and his eyes flickered towards the open window. She saw his right hand slowly moving up from his side.

She didn't understand what he was trying to telegraph to her, but she had to think of something. "You can't get away with this," she blurted out. "The police are here, and they're surrounding the building. Give up."

He actually chuckled. "Not when I've come this far. Besides, it'll only take a minute." And he swiftly reached out, pointing the gun at her head.

That was what Don had been waiting for. His right hand suddenly shot up and clamped onto McDowd's wrist, pushing the gun towards the ceiling. "Karen, the window! Get out!" he shouted.

With scarcely a backwards glance, she dashed to the window and threw one leg over the sill. The fire escape was meant to be accessed from the bedroom, not the sitting room, but she could still reach out and grab it. She cast one quick glance back inside and saw the two men struggling for the gun, with neither one seeming to have the upper hand. Saying a quick prayer, she reached for the rusty railing of the iron staircase. It was firm, if flaking a bit, and she prepared to swing her other leg outside and onto the fire escape.

There was a cry from behind her, and she whirled around. Heart in her throat, she saw McDowd aiming a vicious kick at Agent Eppes, who was sprawled on the floor in front of him. Don curled up, emitting another groan, and McDowd stepped back and smirked. Then he looked up and saw her. He gave a malicious smile and raised his gun.

She froze, trapped half inside the room and half out. She couldn't exactly duck, and even if she managed to move to the fire escape, she was still a sitting duck. Then a flash of movement caught her eye. Don was closer to her than to McDowd, and he was uncoiling himself and springing towards her.

She watched in shock as McDowd fired, once, twice, the bullets intersecting with Don's back as he threw himself in front of her. She saw his body jerk from the impacts, his arms outflung towards her. Then his eyes closed as he crashed to the floor in front of the window, blood darkening his navy shirt.

She looked down in horror, then back up at the killer who stood in the doorway, gun still aimed at her. He looked at Don for a moment, then back at her. "Just putting off the inevitable, I guess," he said, starting to squeeze the trigger again.

She closed her eyes.

There were two shots, but they sounded distant. Her eyes flew open, and she realized why. The shots had come from the hallway, where Agent Cooper stood, weapon extended in front of him. McDowd lay on the ground, face down. The vest he'd stolen from Don had protected him from the shot in the back, but not the one in the head.

"It's Agent Cooper, ma'am," he said. "Are you all right?" Then he caught sight of the face-down body in front of her. "Oh, my God. Don?"

She had already knelt beside him, her medical instincts coming to the fore and pushing aside the smell of gunpowder and blood that was soaking the air. His pulse was still strong, and his head was turned slightly to the side, so he was breathing all right. But the back of his shirt was already red. She yanked her black jacket off and pressed it against the two raw, angry wounds. "Are there paramedics here?" she barked.

He had taken a step into the room, staring down at Don. "Uh, yeah, I think so." He shook himself and pulled a radio from his hip. "This is Agent Cooper, eleventh floor. We have an agent down who needs medical attention immediately!"

She looked down at where her hands were pressing. To the side of his spine, that was good. Both on his right side, one probably in the lung, one lower. She tried to keep her mind on the relevant medical information for when the paramedics arrived, firmly blocking out the fact that these bullets had been meant for her, that this man had thrown himself in front of certain death for her. If he died, it was because of her.

She cast a quick glance at McDowd's body. Agent Cooper had stepped over it and followed her gaze. "Don't worry, no one missing that much of his skull can do much of anything." He came forward another step and hesitantly knelt down beside her. "Can I do anything?" he asked quietly.

She gestured back at McDowd. "Can you move him so the paramedics can get in here more easily?"

He paused for a moment, then looked down at Don and his features hardened. "Sure," he said, rising to his feet.

Don stirred, and she bent over him. His face was turned towards her, and she could see it wreathed in pain. "Agent Eppes, you've been shot. Lie still, okay?"

"Not much choice," she heard him mutter faintly. Then his eyes closed, and he went very still.

"Shit." She reached for his neck, and found his pulse fading. "Where are those medics?" she shouted at Cooper, who was dragging McDowd off to the side, leaving a smear of blood on the carpet.

There was a commotion at the door, and two EMTs burst in. "What have we got?" the first one asked.

'Thank God,' she thought. "Two gunshot wounds to the back. His pulse is weakening, and his respirations are shallow and becoming more irregular. He's diapharetic; I think he's going into shock." She wanted to protest as they pushed her aside, then realized that she hadn't done trauma medicine for many years. So she only said, "I'm a medical doctor," letting the man and woman know she could answer questions in their language, but acknowledging they could do more for Don than she could right now.

She answered their questions as they carefully loaded him onto a gurney, and found out they'd be taking him to L.A. County General. When she started to follow them out of the room, Agent Cooper laid a careful hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, Dr. Fisher, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with us. We need to take your statement about what happened."

Karen came to a dead stop. "I need to go with him to the ER," she said, shaking his hand off. "I need to help him."

"I want to go with him too, ma'am. He used to be my partner, and one of my best friends, and because I was knocked out on the roof just now, I couldn't watch his back." Then he stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at him. "But we need to find out everything that happened here, and we need your help to do that. Someone led McDowd here, and we think we know who, but we need to confirm it."

His words slowly sank in. A detached part of her realized it was a delayed reaction fueled by adrenaline, but the rest of her was too busy trying to stay upright as her knees suddenly weakened. "Whoa," Cooper said as he caught her by the elbows. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath. Then she swallowed. "He has to be all right. He has to."

"I know," he replied quietly. "He's a tough guy. He will be."

Then she allowed him to lead her from the room and downstairs, into that same black Suburban. From the back seat, she watched Agent Cooper, still standing on the sidewalk, dial a number on his cell phone. And then she sent up a silent prayer for Don Eppes and his family as she watched the ambulance speed off in a whirl of lights and sirens.