Flying Blind

2:15 a.m.

Good news rarely arrived at 2:15 a.m.

Especially when it knocked at your front door, waking you from a not-so comfortable sprawl across the kitchen table with a laptop humming away next to your head.

Anna Kayell tried to sit up straight, wincing as the muscles in her neck screamed in protest. She blinked through the crop of black hair that spilled over her face, rubbing at the knotted muscle. This quiet life lately has made her soft. Not much of a chance to get a workout when you're tied to a desk. She wondered idly if the FBI should be worried about black market Viagra sales when International Terrorists were planning the demise of the western world in a dusty hovel somewhere.

The second round of soft but insistent rapping brought Kayell out of her chair and stumbling toward the source of the noise. At least it wasn't the knock of a Pointman. They were usually only interested in getting legalities out of the way before the Strongman rammed your door in. Anna was intimate enough with evasive tactics to know the bad guys didn't knock.

She tilted her head to peer out the peephole and frowned.

Good news rarely arrives at 2:15 a.m. on the arm of someone you'd rather pummel with a blunt object and leave as carrion for scavengers.

The locks turned with oiled ease and the door swung open to reveal the body connected to a hand that was just about to knock for a third round.

"Marita," Anna sighed in an obvious mockery of politeness. "It's late."

"I am aware of that." The blonde fixed her with icy contemplation as she gestured to the empty apartment. "May I speak with you?"

Anna wondered if she'd ever heard those words just before anything -positive- took place. All she could recall was the taste of stale coffee and unhealthy office air. It was usually capped off with a veiled threat or promise of violence. She couldn't really recall the last time anyone wanted to speak - with- her anyway... usually it was a nice way of telling her she was about to be told to do something. Funny how one could go days without uttering a word. As long as you nodded at appropriate intervals, they could talk at you all they wanted.

Kayell said nothing, simply shrugging, and took a step back. The door opened wider in a half- hearted invitation and the blonde slid inside, her high heels making no noise on the carpet. Anna shut the door behind her as Marita made a beeline for the light filtering in from the kitchen.

"What do you want, Covarrubias." Anna was close behind her, wishing she hadn't taken off her weapon the night before. Sometimes even sitting in your own living room was dangerous. It would have been too obvious to tuck the Glock lying on the coffee table into her jeans so she bypassed it as she followed the woman through her own living room on her way to the kitchen.

Blue eyes glanced at the laptop half-closed on the kitchen table, making mental assessment of a lifestyle based on thievery. Surely that was something Marita Covarrubias knew something of.

Arms crossed and dark hair askew, Kayell waited until the woman had judged everything from her taste in flooring to whether or not the Hydrangea in the kitchen window needed water.

"You're still looking for him." It's a slow, easy accusation for Marita to make. Her voice is a touch above hostile but still hinting of a question. But Anna expected that. Maybe she's interested, maybe she's not. Maybe, but its all left in the air.

"On and off," Kayell snapped. "Call it a hobby."

"How do you know he wants to be found?"

Anna stared at the blonde's back and hateed the tight curl of the bun wrapped neatly atop her head. The placements all wrong, the style too severe for someone who gets what they want with sex. Unless of course, the seller's into school marms. An obvious whore trait, to wear cheap cologne and generic shampoo. Evidently everyone has a price and Marita had been on the clearance rack too long. Might as well start planning just where in your back you want that knife stuck, you condescending ice queen, Anna thought to herself.

"How do you?" Kayell replied, and paced around the solid oak table in the center of the room. Covarrubias feigned importance on the violet Hydrangea blooms hanging against the black sky, staring mindlessly out the small window.

Then she turned suddenly and Kayell tensed, not sure what the purpose was for such a late night visit.

"This isn't about territory, Kayell. I'm not here to fish for answers."

"Good, because I have none to offer. I don't care about you and I don't care what Alex does with his ... time. As long as it doesn't get me killed, I'm without an opinion."

Marita stared for a long moment before opening her mouth to speak. At first, no words come... only the indecision of a half-planned thought. She prided herself on knowing she could pry her way into anything, including Alex Krycek's bed. It was a simple show of the appropriate leg and ass, a flash of hunger and he had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker. Typical male reaction, really. It was a relief those bastards hadn't take away her looks with the months of tests. Hard to imagine herself reduced to whatever Anna does. Still, it fascinated her in that car-crash blood and gore way just how Anna could evoke the same reaction without using sex. What did she have that could possibly prompt such loyalty from a man who held no allegiance? To have been old friends and occasional lovers was one thing, but her obsidian hair was a little too straight, her bland wheat-colored eyes carefully veiled. And that pale, pale skin always a bit too smooth to be real -- Kayell had the appearance of something fragile but she knew better. Never, ever judge a book by its cover... especially where any friends of Krycek's were concerned.

A slow smile spread across Anna's lips as she recognized Marita's hesitance. "Not what you wanted to hear, Rita? I'm sure you were expecting some sort of melodramatic rage on Alex's behalf." Her use of Alex's pet name for Marita struck as sharply as Kayell had meant it to, and the blond flinched. "You shouldn't assume I give a fuck about anything but how quickly you jumped ship when it started to sink."

"You're not one to question motive, Anna."

"Motive, action...just a matter of perspective. And I can base an assumption on your action as a whole, Covarrubias." Kayell continued, approaching the table's edge and brushing her fingertips along its cold surface. "And I am assuming since you're here, that you've either weaseled your way back in, or they've got some need for you."

"Both." The other woman confirmd, glancing down at the laptop. "I need you to broker a deal for me."

Kayell said nothing at first, wondering if outright laughter would be the appropriate answer. "And what's in it for me?"

A smile nearly formed on Covarrubias' lips but faded before it had a chance to take shape. "You can end this hobby of yours, for one thing."

"And?"

Covarrubias slid her hand into her coat pocket and slapped a paperback book onto the table. "You have the opportunity to brush up on your Arabic."

Kayell's eyes darted from the book and back to the blonde. "And what's in this for you?"

"A chance to watch that black-lunged son of a bitch get his due."

"Oh..." Kayell sighed and resumed on her route around the table. "And I thought this was personal."

"It is."

It hadn't been that long since Anna had marked this player off the list of those on the inside track. Evidently, second chances were in great supply now that the core of the Consortium had crumbled. "So why even come to me, if you don't need to. I know you can carry this one on your own."

A flush crossed the blonde's face, leaving a vulnerable wake in her eyes. "Because..." Marita whispered. "In Oregon...it's begun. This could be the beginning of the end. They're collecting what's theirs."

Anna felt her blood ice. Her mouth hung open for a second as she considered her reply, but then closed as she found there was nothing to say. What could one say once the end was underway? With a nod, she reached across the table to fetch the book, gripping it tightly in her palm. She'd known this time was coming, they'd been planning it for years...decades even. Before she was even the mistake her family always told her she was. All the side deals and cover jobs withered under the light of the real reason Covarrubias was here.

Like she thought, good news never arrived at 2:15 a.m.

One good way to estimate the urgency of a situation was by gauging the tools used to carry out an assignment. And considering they were furnished with a chartered plane within twelve hours was a sign time was a priority. Marita had loosed enough information for Anna to know Krycek was being held in a penal colony overseas, and she was guessing his incarceration had begin nearly 4 months earlier. That was the last time she had been sure of his whereabouts at least.

As the chauffeur unloaded Kayell mere feet from the jet already waiting on the tarmac, she realized she still had no idea where she was headed. But no matter, at least -this- time it was a sanctioned rescue. For once, the Old Man wanted him free.

The blonde appeared at the steps of the plane and waited as Kayell climbed the stairs with her bag slung over one shoulder, signaling to the crew making their last rounds of the craft.

"We've been cleared and there's no weather to slow us." Covarrubias said as the door slid shut behind them, a uniformed stewardess guiding them to their seats.

"Still not going to give me an idea where we're headed?" Kayell asked, stuffing her bag into an overhead compartment.

"I'll lay out the particulars once we're in the air."

So they're leaving nothing to chance, Kayell thought to herself and took her seat as the jet began to taxi. If this was nothing more than a blind assignment, she'd have to figure it out as she went along.

"I don't like blind assignments," Kayell said and watched the ground speed past, the jet lifting into the air with graceful effort.

"This one isn't blind, there just isn't time to explain it all before it's engaged."

"So it's engaged," Kayell growled. "Tell me what the hell is going on."

Covarrubias ignored the 'fasten seatbelt' sign flashing at the front of the cabin and moved to the leather couch next to Kayell. "Alex is incarcerated in North Africa. My guess is that Spender wants him out to help reinstate the plans for Colonization. You are aware of the events in Oregon."

"Yes, and The Great Plan is moot at this point." Kayell sighed. "The Consortium structure was destroyed... the Alien Colonists will return and do as they please."

"Not if we get Krycek out." Covarrubias said and reached for a briefcase sitting idly on the couch beside her. She popped the locks and allowed Kayell a glance at the stacks of bills inside. "I've been given enough to ensure his release."

"And if it's not enough?"

"That's why I've brought you along."

"Ah..." Kayell nodded and leaned back into the leather seat. "So I wasn't invited per se."

"Your name was mentioned to assist in handling his return."

"Assist to handle Krycek." Kayell mused aloud. "Which of you didn't he trust?"

"I would say He doesn't trust any of us." Covarrubias replied, allowing a small smile as she pushed the briefcase under Kayell's seat. "But then I don't believe he had much of a choice, given his current condition."

The blonde stood and returned to her seat across the cabin, leaving Kayell to stare out the window to the clouds below. True. He didn't have much of a choice if he was calling in Krycek and using Covarrubias to bring him in, then counting on Kayell as backup.

Three Blind Mice indeed.

All that was left was to wait and see who got their tail chopped first.

Kayell stood beside Covarrubias at the gates of the Tunisian penal colony and gripped the briefcase that much tighter. It was one thing to break someone out of prison in a third world country; it was quite another to make a trade of cash for a life in a hell hole like this.

And the smell was already unbearable. Once inside the near medieval compound, however, it was not unlike any other prison anywhere in the world. Your boring tier level of management, your basic half-ass security propped up with a mountain of firepower, and your typical upper echelon all to happy to see two attractive American women with a ton of cash. It didn't take long to cement the deal.

Anna waited in an unconditioned office as a leering officer counted the stacks of bills and rummaged in a file cabinet for the proper paperwork -- all the while chewing on some sort of foul smelling cigarette. Marita stood by the door and listened to the exchange as it tilted from French to Arabic depending on the rank of the officer in the room at the time.

In less than an hour, the prisoner had a nice red stamp on his papers and Marita was escorted by armed guards to gather the newly freed Krycek. Kayell stayed behind to wait as the Leering Man tied up loose ends and did his best to negotiate a 'date'.

Then with the papers in hand, she was also escorted out of the office and down a hallway filled with inhuman shouts and smells, dotted with pairs of young men leaning against concrete walls sweating though their thin uniforms, and toward the sound of running water and conversation.

"Who sent you?" A familiar voice rang out as she entered a wide, shadow filled room.

Answered by the blonde: "The Cigarette Smoking Man."

Anna watched as Marita's eyes took in the naked man in the shower, her expression a mix of hunger and disgust. Ah, then, she must be looking at Krycek.

"He's dying..." Covarrubias added with appropriate drama.

A long moment passed, as Kayell listened from the shadows. She could almost hear the gears turning in Krycek's head beneath the dim run of water.

"You don't say..." he smirked, tilting his face into the cold spray.

"Your benefactor is expecting your arrival," Anna spoke up and approached the row of rarely used showers. A surprised Krycek turned with snake-like speed and glared into the darkness, shutting off the water with a slam of the fist.

"I see they sent the cavalry after me," he growled.

"No, not really. Think of us as really off track bounty hunters." Anna replied and tossed him a towel, laying a stack of clothes on a nearby folding chair. She made sure he could see her clearly before she allowed her eyes to roam over his body and then joined Marita in the doorway. "You skip bail and we'll have no problem bringing you back dead." She smiled inwardly at his expression fell to a near look of amusement.

"When do we leave?" He asked from the shadows, the rustle of clothing nearly drowning out his words. Anna waited as she guessed he had dug to the bottom of the stack and found the hidden pistol.

"We have a car outside that will take us straight to the airstrip." Covarrubias said and held up a pair of handcuffs as he emerged into the light again. "House rules, evidently."

Krycek held up one hand and smirked. "And here I was hoping you didn't trust me."

"I don't." The blonde replied darkly as she snapped one silver ring over his wrist. "That's why I'm cuffing you to her."

Anna produced her arm and sighed. "Don't think of this of foreplay."

"Oh I won't..." Krycek grumped and leaned in close to her ear. "I know you bite."

Kayell didn't wait for the jet to finish its taxi to the runway before she drug out her bag and seated herself next to Krycek on the leather couch. Maria unlatched the cuffs and moved to a seat across the cabin, watching with feigned boredom as she began laying out a supply of vials and syringes, Krycek already pulling off his shirt.

"The stewardess is bringing you the usual." Anna sighed and as if on cue, the uniformed woman wheeled a tray of food down the aisle. Krycek grabbed for the cheeseburger first, not even allowing her to set it on the table nearby before he dug in.

"I'm assuming they were into the typical standard?" Kayell asked and Krycek nodded, barely chewing his first bite before taking a second.

"No protein? Minimal provisions?"

He nodded his head and was on his way toward a third bite, the burger nearly gone already.

"Alright then. You know the drill, but I have to run the list."

Krycek groaned and leaned his head back onto the bulkhead, finishing off the burger and reaching for the second one waiting on the plate.

"Were you forcibly injected with any substances for the purpose of gathering information?" Kayell asked and drew a syringe full of liquid from a glass vial.

"I had no information."

"Just answer the question, dipwad, I know that. Even if this isn't sanctioned, I follow procedure."

Kayell thought she heard Marita snicker across the cabin.

"No. No drugs, no food, just this roach infested crap they figured would keep a dog alive."

"Alright then." Anna sighed and swabbed his right arm with an alcohol pad. Krycek winced as the needle struck home.

"Were you accosted or the victim of any bodily harm for the purpose of-"

"They beat the shit out me, yes. They tapdanced across my fucking head on a regular basis. Can we skip the Geneva bullshit?"

Anna tossed the syringe into a plastic bag and tore open another sterile one. "Fine, your call." She chose another vial and prepared another syringe, swabbing his arm in another spot. "Just tell me if anything's broken so we can move on."

"I don't need a doctor, they can't fix what's already healed," he muttered around the second burger.

"Fine." Anna replied and stabbed him again. "Do you want any blood tests run?"

Krycek lifted his head and glared at her for a long second before answering. "I didn't let any of that happen."

"Good to hear." Kayell replied, glancing over the supplies. "Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure."

Kayell looked up at him and tried to read his expression. The angry glint in his eyes told her he was telling her the truth so she let it go. She heard the uncomfortable shift of Marita squirming across the cabin and swept all the supplies back into her bag, cleaning up the spent papers. "You've been given the usual: broad spectrum antibiotics, high dose of vitamins, a basic array of electrolyte balancers. This is becoming a very bad habit of mine, having a rescue kit on hand."

"No more bad for you than for me." Krycek murmured, pulling his shirt on. "Any chance I can get a Biomed prosthetic replacement once we land?"

"I think that can be arranged."

He nodded and settled into his seat, glancing over at Covarrubias as she flipped through a magazine.

"She told me the old man's in bad shape."

"He is. You can get an official brief when we land."

He took in a long breath and pursed his lips, flexing his shot-sore arm absentmindedly as he thought. "Any ideas on what's going on?"

Anna glanced back at Marita, who was engrossed in her fashion magazine.

"I've done some nosing around," she nodded. "And it seems resources are being gathered for the final step of the original Plan. Events were stepped up, it seems. And, as usual, Mulder's trying to get right in the middle of it."

Krycek rolled his eyes and shook his head. "In a good way?"

"Depends on your perspective." Kayell replied, her eyebrows raised. "Something crashed in Oregon, and it wasn't the usual wayward Rebel craft. There are abductees missing."

"It just keeps getting better and better," he whispered to himself. "And the old man's got a foot in the grave. What about Skinner?"

"I've held that option open during your... absence. You can call that card if you need it."

He nodded and allowed a small smile. "Then you're still on board."

"Won't I always be?" Kayell smirked, and rose to her feet. "Old habits die harder than some. Plus, you still owe me."

Krycek grinned as she took a seat nearby and reclined, settling in for the flight. One thing he had to remember about rats: when you saw one, there were always more in the shadows.