I burst through the door to the garage and cast around for signs of a struggle. The fight would be a fair one, if Krycek wasn't armed. My instincts regarding Krycek having a car waiting for him were confirmed when I rounded a corner and saw the large black sedan, back passenger door open and two men struggling inside. Drawing my weapon, I approached the car from the back, opposite the side of the open door. I opened my mouth to shout at the struggling figures, barely visible behind privacy glass.
Before I could get any sound out of my mouth, the car lurched into reverse with a squeal of tires. I had to jump out of the way behind another car in order to avoid being hit, unfortunately the black sedan crashed into the car I had taken cover behind and I was knocked down, covered in shattered glass. A second squeal of tires and the roar of an engine told me the black sedan hadn't been damaged too badly. I scrambled to my feet to see the one intact tail light disappear around the corner and down to the lower level.
I ran for the stairs and caught sight of the blond woman who had followed me. "I hope you're not also charged with keeping control of Alex Krycek," I yelled as I passed her. She was rooted to the floor, mouth open but once on the stairs, I heard her footsteps clattering behind me.
Coming out into the garage two floors down, I had managed to get in front of the vehicle and planted myself, both hands on my gun pointed in the direction the sedan would come from. It appeared within seconds and I began firing rounds, in vain, at its hood and windshield. I stood my ground and shouted my customary, "Stop! Federal Agent!." It was to no avail. I was nearly jerked off my feet and out of the path of the speeding sedan by the tall blond. As soon as I recovered my balance I took off running after the vehicle again. The back door was still hanging open and I had an excellent view of Mulder being pushed out of the car by black boots and black denim clad legs.
He was pushed out with enough forced and the car was traveling fast enough that Mulder did several barrel rolls over dusty concrete before coming to a rest on his back. Approaching him at a dead run, I quickly re-holstered my gun and crouched down next to him. His eyes were open, wide and staring. He had several red marks on his face would that become bruises soon enough and an abrasion on his right temple that was oozing blood.
I took hold of his jaw with my right hand and pulled his face toward mine. "Mulder, talk to me." I put a hand to his chest and realized that though it was rigid with stress, it wasn't moving up and down. "Breathe, dammit!"
Mulder let out a strangled, "Can't..." but then his chest expanded and in the next instant he was panting with exertion. I let him catch his breath and rested my right hand on his chest. I checked the pulse in his neck, fast and strong. And hazarded a question.
"Where does it hurt?"
He scoffed a bit but replied, "Left... arm..." He took another deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. "I think its broken." His brow was furrowed and his face was beginning to pale, but I had experience with broken bones.
"If it were broken you'd be throwing up or passed out. Let me see it." I took his left arm in both my hands and heard his head hit the concrete with a thump. I looked up from his arm to see his eyes had rolled back in his head, not quite closing on the whites of his sclera. "Okay, maybe it is broken then," I said with some acerbity. I looked around, casting about for a way to get Mulder to the emergency department.
The blond woman was there, a few paces behind me. I turned, still in my crouching position and addressed her considerably more acerbically than I had Mulder's arm. "He needs help," I said and jerked my head toward to the door marked "Entrance."
She shook her head a bit and replied, "I'll find someone." And she turned for the door into the hospital.
I let out a deep breath through pursed lips and attempted to rouse Mulder. I put a hand, gently this time, on his cheek and said his name a few times. His eyes fluttered a bit and his head turned toward me.
"Where is my gun?" He asked slowly. I thought that was hardly a point of order that deserved discussion at the moment and began reassuring him that medical help was on the way.
"I wanted to shoot the bastard, but I didn't have my gun. Why don't I have it?" Mulder was fading in and out of consciousness causing his statement and question to seem to drag on for minutes rather than the seconds it had really taken. I gave him a questioning look, but his eyes rolled back in his head again.
...
After a cursory examination, administration, via IV, of pain meds, and a temporary immobilizing sling put on his broken left arm, Mulder was woozy and not capable of much conversation. A state that made stepping out into the hallway to speak with Agent Doggett about recent events an agreeable exodus.
Once leaning against the wall in the hallway, I inquired after our other patient. "How's Ray Hoese? Have they drawn any more blood to check for foreign substances? What were his vitals like when you left him?"
Agent Doggett seemed to have lost his tongue and stared at me, eyes traveling up and down my frame. He finally found words after I gave him an admonishing, "Well?"
"You look like hell. You have broken glass in your hair, dirt and God knows what else all over your clothes and you're bleeding."
I jerked in surprise. "Where?" I asked, looking myself over as best I could. Doggett wasn't wrong about my clothes. My light green suit was covered with dirt and oil from my contact with the parking garage floor. A glance at my sleeve showed a smear of blood, but... Doggett stepped toward me, put a hand to the right side of my jaw and I slapped his fingers away, the contact causing a stinging sensation just below my left ear. He held up his fingers in front of my face to show me the red smear.
I ducked into the bathroom a few paces down the hall, wet a paper towel and put it to the area where I now felt the considerable sting of cut flesh. I didn't look in the mirror. I didn't want to know.
I went back to my position against the hallway wall and told Agent Doggett, "this is as good as my looks are going to get for now. Answer my questions."
"Fine," Doggett replied with resignation. "Hoese is fine. His condition has stabilized. He hasn't had a seizure since you took off without a word of explanation about where you were going or what you were doing or that you might, just maybe, could have benefited from a little assistance from you partner. I'm gonna remind you again that I'm not here for decoration, Agent Scully."
I was tempted to snap at him, but he had a point. Had he been with me, rather than the mysterious blond who had not disappeared, things might have gone a little better.
"I'm sorry, Agent Doggett. I'm not used to having you around yet."
Doggett's posture relaxed and he leaned against the wall next to me. "I am here to help. I told the tech that you'd probably want to have a look at the most recent sample of Hoese's blood. He said you could meet him in the lab."
I smiled, "take a walk to the parking garage with me and I'll tell you where I went and what I was doing."
"Why the parking garage?" Doggett asked me.
"I need a change of clothes. I can't go around having you thinking I look like hell."
I pushed off the wall and grimaced. I put my hand to the small of my back and groaned. The gentleman that he was, Agent Doggett was at my side and inquiring as to where I was hurt.
"It's nothing. Just a bruise." The hard leather of my holster had probably left a mark as well as a sore spot when I had hit the concrete floor of the garage. "I had a close encounter..." I began.
Doggett, eyebrows at his hairline, turned me toward him by the arm he had taken to support me. "Close encounter with what?" The look of near panic on his face was enough to undo me after the events of the last hours and I laughed.
"The pavement, Agent Doggett. I had a close encounter with the pavement." I finally managed and shook my head with amusement. "There aren't any aliens lurking around. Yet."
