Gabriel
Chapter Twenty-Six


Helena, Montana
September 25, 2001
6:15 p.m.


"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Gabriel shook his head at Skinner's incredulous
statement.  Time was of the essence and he'd
quickly told them all of what he'd learned on
the train after he'd followed Skinner to the
small hotel across the street from the depot.

"Amazing," Frohike piped in, his eyes wide at
the revelations.  "You mean - Krycek isn't the
spawn of Satan after all?"

With a snort, Gabriel stood, scrubbing at his
beard as he pushed away from the small table. 
"That remains to be seen."  After all, every
time he looked in a mirror these days, he
wondered if one day, his father's genes would
overcome any sense of human compassion he still
possessed.  "Look, Spencer's little Peyton Place
means nothing to me.  Scully -" He bit his lip
and cleared his throat, giving them all a
sweeping glance.  "Scully needs that chip or
she'll die.  End of story."

"Damn right," Frohike said, standing as well. 
He reached for the paper that laid on the single
cot, spreading it over the table.  "Canyon Ferry
Dam."  His gloved finger made a beeline on the
map as Gabriel and Skinner flanked him.  "About
12 miles northeast of Helena.  Near as I can
tell, there's only one road in - Highway 284. 
Past the dam, it circles around the lake. 
Pretty isolated."

"Is the power plant still operational?" Skinner
asked.

"The friendlys in town tell me yeah.  But
there's only one guy left from the crew that
manned it before the Invasion; he lives in a
shack close by.  We didn't want to poke around
too much, you know.  Langly and Byers left
shortly after we arrived late this afternoon to
take a look."  Opening up his laptop, he powered
it up.  "They should be back any minute now."

It wouldn't be easy, Gabriel knew right away,
even without seeing the structure.  Spencer
would arrive from the southwest, his father from
the northeast.  Facing each other like
gunfighters on a deserted street.  A handful of
men ready with weapons and itchy trigger fingers
waiting behind them.  Nowhere to run, nowhere to
hide.  A disaster in the making - with Julia
caught right in the middle.

"I don't like it." Skinner clenched his jaw and
moved away, hands on hips, echoing Gabriel's
thoughts.  "Too open.  Where the hell are we
supposed to hide?"

As Gabriel pondered the answer to that question,
Frohike interrupted, "Have a look." Swinging the
laptop around, he continued, "Got this off of an
old Montana tourism site.  Not much to work
with.  I did find out that it was undergoing
some patchwork at the time of the Invasion."

The picture showed a very panoramic scene, the
dam majestic amidst green rivers of trees.  A
huge reservoir sat behind it and it emptied
through the turbines from the middle in four
white plumes of water.  Slick concrete hundreds
of feet high with no way to scale the walls to
the road above, its construction presented an
almost insurmountable problem, as far as he
could tell.  A large utility building sat at the
bottom left, but it was too far away from the
middle span to be of any use.  He wished for
more of a close-up photograph; from the distance
the picture was taken, details were impossible
to ascertain.

"Helena is which way?" Gabriel asked.

"Probably this way," Frohike said, pointing to
the left of the photo.  "Simply because of the
massive power lines running out in that
direction from the dam.  In other words, I'm
guessing."

"Good guess, but inaccurate.  The powerhouse is
on the other side of the dam from Helena."

Byers' statement startled them all, and Gabriel
swung around to face the door.  "Jesus.  Knock
next time, okay?"

The two arrivals moved into the room, Langly
sneering, "What for?  This is a friggin' ghost
town."

Gabriel turned back to Frohike, his memory
triggering a faint alarm in the back of his
brain.  "I thought you said there was a massive
digging site up here?"

"There was," his friend said.  "When we got
here, we found out the company had pulled up
stakes a couple of days ago.  Left lock, stock
and barrel.  Guess they abandoned it."

Something didn't sit right with Gabriel; nor
with Skinner, as he could see when he glanced at
the man.  Jaw tight, Skinner said, "Spencer
moved all his men out - why?"

"Could be he didn't find anything," Langly mused
with a shrug.

"Or it could be he found something," Frohike
breathed.  "The company's been looking mighty
hard for 'k', so far with some success."

"Jesse told me the 'k' was destroyed," Gabriel
said.  "Kurtzweil confirmed it.  What would make
this find special?"

Frohike nodded, leveling Gabriel with an amazed
stare, like a light bulb had gone off above his
head.  "Unless... it wasn't Spencer digging in
these parts at all."

"Fuck." Gabriel's anger threatened to burst
forth, but he held it in check, his hand coming
up to rub his tense neck as he paced.  "My
father.  Looking for the same God damned thing
Spencer's looking for.  And you can bet he's not
melting down the shit."

"The dam?" Skinner asked.

Gabriel looked up, coming to a halt as he
growled, "One big hydroelectric plant.  With
millions of volts of electricity just waiting to
be tapped into.  We thought the transformation
of the tower was massive - it will be nothing
compared to the energy generated if just one
piece of 'k' manages to get into those
circuits."  He was right all along.  Double-
cross?  He'd sadly underestimated his father
once again.  This was nothing like an ambush of
armed men, which was what he'd expected.

It was mass annihilation.  

"Bye-bye Montana," Frohike gulped, putting
Gabriel's worst fears into words.

"If we're lucky," Byers murmured, just as
shakily.  "But your father will be there in the
middle of it - surely he's not that brave."

"He's not," Gabriel stated.  "He'll have a fast
means of escape, you can count on it."

"Nothing will be fast enough to get him away,
not with the chain reaction this will cause,"
Frohike said.  "Not even a helicopter will do
the job."

Sudden realization made Gabriel grin.  There may
be hope yet.  "Unless he triggers the reaction
after he's gone.  Look, he can't tap into the
main generators directly - too hazardous, too
hard to control.  In the tower, Julia inserted
the chip in a computer line.  Took hours for the
reaction to reach the point where the tower
began to collapse.  What if he finds a
connection somewhere close - say, a computer in
the powerhouse."

"No chance," Langly piped in.  "Main computer is
still up and running, but every terminal is
smashed.  We checked every floor; the powerhouse
was looted long ago."

"Then a circuit breaker - *anything* he can
switch on to make the connection."  Gabriel
looked at the faces around him, seeing their
train of thoughts collide with his.  "The
powerhouse still has electrical power?"

"Yeah," Langly said, "in spots.  Some lights
work, some don't."

Gabriel leveled Frohike with frantic eyes,
knowing there was a good chance his father had
hidden the 'k' in one of those small, innocuous
circuit boxes that was a part of every dwelling. 
It would make it almost impossible to find, but
vastly easier to remove.  "Then we have work to
do."  He donned his coat and began to gather
their equipment, sliding the gun Skinner had
given him into his belt.  He was gratified to
see Skinner and Frohike join in, their movements
quick.

"But - but why don't we just take Julia from the
train and get the hell out of here?" Langly was
panicky and pale.

As Gabriel shoved his way to the door, he threw
over his shoulder at Frohike, "You tell him - in
the truck.  Let's go, there's not much time."


*******


Canyon Ferry Dam
6:45 p.m.


Trees, trees and more trees.  After basically
living in the wilderness for months now, Gabriel
was sick of trees.  He'd once told Scully he
would prefer to settle down in a small town and
watch life pass him by.  But there was a great
deal of difference between the tick-free, mowed
lawns of a place like Home, Pennsylvania and the
claustrophobic, dense blackness of an overgrown
Montana road.  He sure hoped Skinner had brought
some civilization to the encampment in Canada; 
he was damned tired of sleeping in tents and
taking ice-cold showers.

Shaking his head at his selfishness, he amended
his thoughts.  He could live anywhere, put up
with any discomfort, as long as she was with
him.

"The old man said there were men scoping out the
powerhouse yesterday.  He stayed out of sight
for the most part, hiding in the trees. 
Couldn't say what they were doing, but he told
us his power's been out since they left."  Byers
momentarily abandoned his stare out the back
window to meet Gabriel's knowing gaze.  The
pieces were falling together, creating an
ominous picture of impending doom.

He'd once bragged to Scully that he was right
most of the time; what he conveniently forgot to
say was that his accuracy rarely gave him any
satisfaction.  And this was one time he wished
he was wrong - but he knew damn well he wasn't.

"There it is."  Langly pointed above the
dashboard, turning to give the three men in the
back seat a jerk of his head.

Skinner and Byers sandwiched Gabriel in the back
seat of the ancient, shit-brown Bronco.  When
he'd seen the vehicle outside the hotel, he'd
faced Frohike with a warning lift of his brow -
where the hell would they put Julia?  With a
forestalling wave of his hand, Frohike told him
not to worry.  A small band of Skinner's men
awaited them north of Helena; after rendezvous,
they'd all travel by land, taking as much time
as they needed to see to her needs.  Just one
little thing to take care of before they left
for good - and Kurtzweil was ready back on the
train.

The eventual trek to Canada was the least of his
worries now.  Peering through the windshield, he
saw the lights of the dam in the distance.  A
lump of fear blossomed in his throat, just like
always.  But he swallowed it down - again, like
always.  Maybe another mile and they'd be there
- at that massive structure his father iintended
to use as the comeback even Elvis couldn't top.

The truck lumbered along the pothole-laced road
and Gabriel began to squirm in his seat,
grumbling when they suddenly came to a halt some
distance away from the dam.

Skinner flung open his door.  "Cool it, Mulder. 
We can't get too close.  Walking it from here on
out."  The other passengers scrambled out and
Frohike slowly drove the Bronco into the trees.

As they watched it melt into the undergrowth,
Gabriel turned to Langly.  "The dam?  How far?"

"About a quarter-mile up the road."

"And the shack?"

"A hundred yards or so downstream from the
powerhouse.  Guy's name is Bill."

Bill?  Just his luck, it was Scully's brother. 
One more obstacle to hurdle.

"Gotta warn you, though.  He's one mean old
bastard.  Nearly filled me and Byers with
buckshot."

Who could blame him? Gabriel thought. 
Scavengers of all sorts moved throughout the
country; it was best to stay in the rebuilding
cities.  Or shoot anyone who got too close, if
you chose to remain isolated.

"Is he about six-two, with red hair and no
lips?"  He had to ask; if by any slim chance it
*was* Bill Scully, Gabriel wanted Kevlar.

"Nah.  If he's over five feet tall, it's not
much.  Stinks the high heaven, too.  Maybe he's
the troll of the dam." 

Frohike joined them, giving his watch a quick
glance as he slung his backpack over his
shoulder.  Cocking his pistol, he steeled his
jaw and nodded.  "Gentlemen... let's boogie." 
Turning on his heel, he walked away, picking up
speed until his boots kicked up gravel as he
jogged around the bend in the road.

His two compadres fell into step beside Frohike,
their guns seeming out of place in their hands. 
But they carried them with the ease of
familiarity, and Gabriel gave Skinner a 'whaddya
know' shrug before following.

His old boss trotted at his left, mumbling,
"Never thought I'd see the day those three would
go Rambo.  Kind of unsettling."

Giving Skinner a taut grin, Gabriel said, "Hope
you brought your boogie shoes."


*******


6:45 p.m.


The powerhouse loomed below them as they reached
the other side of the dam.  Gabriel paused,
looking at the cobweb of electrical lines that
branched out like tree limbs from its
generators.  Coils of circuitry seemed intact
and he sighed.  The tool of his father's victory
could be anywhere.

"Hold it right there."  A stern warning, issued
with the click of a gun.

Before Gabriel could pick out the source of the
threat in the black shadows, Byers said, "Bill?" 
He stepped toward the sound slowly, dropping his
gun at his side.  "Bill - it's John.  Remember
us?"

A small, grizzled man came forward around the
safety railing at the end of the bridge,
squinting against the light beyond them all. 
"Oh, it's you again.  You here to fix my power?"

At the snarled question, Gabriel flashed an
impatient look at Byers.  They didn't have time
for placating the old man; as he jerked his chin
toward Skinner with a silent 'let's go', Byers
took over the conversation with the obstacle in
their path.

"Not yet, Bill," he said softly.  "These men are
going to give it a try, okay?"

"Friends o'yours?"  Bill's words faded behind
them as Gabriel motioned for the others to
follow.

"Yes.  We're just here to have a look around,
okay?"

Dimly, Gabriel hoped Byers told the man to make
himself scarce when the deal went down.  Though,
from the looks of the dirty little fellow, he'd
have no trouble blending in with the overgrown
trees and brush.  As they began the trek down
the incline, he let all thoughts of anyone's
safety fly from his mind.  There was work to do.


8:45 p.m.


"Anything?"

After a scratchy pause, Frohike's tinny voice
came back.  "Nada.  This place is clean,
Mulder."

They'd each taken one of the four floors of the
powerhouse building while Skinner patrolled
outside.  The guys had been right; not much left
to the place except for the roar beneath his
feet of the turbines.  The lights still worked
and he'd checked every closet, every corner for
breaker switches.  He'd found two, one at each
end of the floor, but they were all still
intact.  No sign of tampering or abuse.

"Damn it," he muttered, wiping at his brow.  He
knew he was right; Spencer's spectacular demise
at the dam would signal his father's comeback. 
Gabriel could just picture the television spot
now, his father smiling through the cigarette
smoke as he assured the people that his control
of the company would mean a disaster like the
one in Montana would never happen again.

Pressing the call button again he asked, "Are
you sure, Frohike?"

"Even checked the hand dryer in the john. 
Nothing."

Gritting his teeth with frustration, Gabriel
made a quick decision.  He wasn't letting
Spencer go through with the deal.  The old man
would have to listen to reason, or see all that
he'd worked for go up in smoke.  It would mean
that Julia wouldn't get the chip, of course.

All the years he worked to prevent his father's
triumph, only to succumb to a selfish need to
keep her with him.  If he'd only not been so
single-minded, he'd have seen this coming. 
Could have stalled the meeting until they were
better prepared.  But once again, he thought
that he could prevail, thought that he could
have all his greedy heart wished for. His
father's death.  A life without worry or fear.

Julia.

She would die this time.

No, not yet, he told himself.  He wouldn't let
it happen.

His radio squawked in his hand and Skinner's
tense voice came over the line.

"Gentlemen, company's come to call.  I hear the
trucks in the distance."

For a few moments, all was silent.  Gabriel held
his breath, knowing there wasn't much else to be
done.  Whatever was going to happen was
inevitable; he had to tell Spencer to call off
the transaction.  Pick another location, another
time - it was the only way to regain control
over their fates.  Turn the tables on his old
man and make him squirm.  He'd be angry, and
quite possibly, he'd attempt to take Julia.  But
with the Gunmen and Skinner as backup, they
could put up a decent fight and back off for a
rematch.  It was their only choice.

"Mulder?" Skinner was impatient, his voice terse
and pressing.

With quick feet, he began the climb up the
stairs.  "Position yourselves, boys.  I'm gonna
meet Spencer at the top and ward him off."

"What if he doesn't cooperate?"  Frohike was
breathless, obviously on the move as well.

As Gabriel exited the powerhouse, he saw
headlights break through the dense trees across
the dam.  "That's what we're here for, Colonel,"
he said, with an undercurrent of strategic
deliberation.  "You know what to do."

"Roger that.  Good luck, amigo."

It took five of the longest minutes of his life
to traverse the flights of concrete stairs up
the side of the dam.  That they were at the
opposite end of Spencer's approach didn't help
any; by the time Gabriel made it to the other
side, the vehicles were parked, their lights
blinding him as he ran forward.  Spencer exited
the passenger side of the one nearest, flanked
by two men Gabriel knew were armed under their
heavy coats.  At his breathless approach,
Spencer waved them away and they melted into the
darkness beyond, taking up positions Gabriel
knew weren't far behind the trucks.

Stopping before the prune-faced Spencer, Gabriel
gulped for breath, his words sharp and to the
point.  "Call it off."  Hunched over slightly,
he glared at the man, grabbing his side.  "Did
you hear me?  Call it off!"

Spencer's brows drew together as he huddled in
the cold.  "Are you insane?  I allowed you to be
here as an indulgence, but I won't stand for -"

"Call it off, God damn it!" Gabriel lunged
forward, only to be stopped short as his arms
were grabbed in a tight hold from behind.  His
weapon clattered to the pavement as he felt the
pull on his shoulder.  A large boot swiped his
leg as it kicked the weapon away.  Gabriel
watched the gun slide down the embankment with a
frustrated growl.

"Cool it, man," Jesse snarled, his hands taking
advantage of Gabriel's weakness to entrap him in
an immovable vise.  "You said you wouldn't give
us no trouble."

Struggling against Jesse's hold, Gabriel pleaded
with Spencer, "You've got to listen to me - it's
a trap.  The place is rigged with 'k'.  None of
us will make it out once the exchange is made."

Spencer leaned on his cane, one eyebrow risen as
he asked, "And you've come to this conclusion...
how?"

"I don't have time to explain."  At Spencer's
nod, Jesse let him go.  He wasted no time
stepping up to face down the old man, his pleas
stronger.  "Trust me.  My father has set a trap. 
When he gets what he wants, he'll set it in
motion."

"And just how will he escape, my dear boy?  I've
seen what this alien material can do; he
wouldn't dare put himself in danger like that."

"Helicopter.  He'll arrive by helicopter."

"No.  It was agreed we both arrive by land...
equal in men and means of transport.  No one
will have the upper hand."

Gabriel snorted.  "You really believe he'll
stick to any agreement?  You said yourself he's
double-crossed you before.  Since when has he
ever stood by what he says?"

"Since he's dying, he'll do anything I ask." 
They both turned at the approach of yet another
vehicle.  Spencer squinted at the lights. 
"Julia," he said softly.

Gabriel started for the truck, growling, "I'm
not going to let you -" But his words were cut
short as he fell, dazed by Jesse's tackle.  The
concrete under his cheek was frigid and he
fought against the confining weight as Jesse
began to drag him away, his shoulder screaming
with overexertion.

"You can have her after we're done, Mr. Mulder." 
Spencer's voice faded as Gabriel found himself
neatly hauled off, his hands bound.

"Jesse," he muttered as he was thrown into the
back of the nearby Humvee, "don't let him do
this.  I'm right, I know I am."

Jesse shook his head, wrapping Gabriel's kicking
legs at the ankle with rope.  "You don't shut
up, man, I'm gonna gag you."

"God damn it, Jesse -" His protest faded, his
ears pricking at the thump underlying the roar
of the dam.  "Listen."

Jesse straightened, a rueful smile accompanying
his, "That ain't gonna fly, Gabe."

"No, listen!" Gabriel hissed, leaning forward in
the seat, trying to muscle his way out the open
back end.  As he met Jesse's stonewall, a
distant light appeared above the treeline. 
"Look."

The big man finally turned, though he held fast
to Gabriel.  His mouth dropped as Gabriel's
prophecy came true.  "Holy shit," he breathed.

The ground began to shake at the approach of the
twin helicopters.  Circling wide, the machines
made one pass then hovered at the far end of the
dam, huge vultures moving in for the kill.

"I told you," Gabriel said, shoving at Jesse's
hold.  "Let me go."

As if mesmerized, Jesse watched the descent. 
"Mr. Spencer's gonna shit a brick."

"Fuck Spencer."  Gabriel had enough of the whole
business.  Chip or not, he was taking Julia
away.  They'd find a way to keep her alive...
but not if they all were incinerated out in this
wilderness.  "Jesse, please.  Let me go."

His one-time friend met his frantic gaze.  "I
can't do that, Gabe."  Regret darkened his face. 
"Not until we get what we want."

Amidst Gabriel's rumbles of anger, his radio
burst to life, Frohike's voice practically
squealing from the handset at his belt. 
"Mulder!"

Damn it, this wasn't supposed to happen, he
thought.  He'd promised her they'd get away,
that they'd find safety and happiness. 
Frohike's warning came too little, too late. 
Yeah, I know, he wanted to scream at the
Colonel.  We're all gonna die out here and
there's not a damn thing we can do about it.

"Mulder!  Come back!  We think we've found it!"

Gabriel sucked in a ragged breath, hope
burgeoning in his chest.  "Jesse, answer him. 
At least do that for me."  He ceased his
attempts to free himself, facing Jesse with
pleading eyes.  "Please, Jesse.  Answer him."

The moments dragged by as Jesse contemplated
Gabriel's request.

"You know I'm right," he continued hoarsely. 
"The helicopters.  The power outage.  We can
*do* something about this, Jesse.  Pick up the
radio."

"Mulder!"  Frohike was getting impatient.

With a clench of his jaw, Jesse grabbed the
radio and brought it to Gabriel's face, his
thumb depressing the orange call button. 
Gabriel nodded his thanks before saying, "I'm
here."

"Where the fuck have you been?  We think we
found it, man.  Transformer by Bill's place has
been disconnected.  Can't see much, but it looks
like there's some kind of small explosive device
rigged to it.  We're sending Langly up now."

Briefly, he closed his eyes with relief, then
opened them to challenge Jesse as he answered,
"Good.  I'm going out on the dam.  Meet at the
rendezvous point later."

"Roger that.  Keep in touch."

As the transmission ceased, Gabriel nodded,
transfixing Jesse with a determined stare. 
"So... you gonna cut me loose or do I have to
roll over there?"  His defensive posture told
Jesse he was prepared to do just that, should
need be.

Gabriel jerked back at the flash of the
switchblade and gulped.  Despite his bravado, he
was still wary of the huge man.  Was he going to
let him go?  Or slice his throat?  From the
stony silence, Gabriel wasn't sure of either. 
Jesse's eyes darted from him to the movement
beyond the truck, indecision making him
hesitate.

"Jesse," Gabriel croaked, trying one last time
with a low plea, "please.  We're all going to
die out here unless you help me."

"And if I let you go, Mr. Spencer's gonna have
my hide."  His lips slowly curled into a smile
as the knife crept closer.  "I seen you do a lot
of stupid things since I met you, man.  You're
one crazy fucker, you know that Gabe?"  Gabriel
held his breath as the knife disappeared around
his back.  "But I guess that makes me insane
too, 'cause I believe you."

"Thank you Jesus," Gabriel muttered, quickly
divesting himself of the rope to reach for his
ankles.

"The name's Jesse.  Only the women call me
Jesus." Jesse's smile widened as he sliced the
rope around Gabriel's ankles.  "You go get your
woman, Gabe.  I got ya back."

Breathless, Gabriel scrambled out of the
vehicle, hearing the helicopter come closer and
closer.  A diesel-laced blast of warmer air down
the side of the dam blew over his face and he
knew his father had landed.  Gulping back the
sudden rush of fear at seeing that monster
again, he eyed the last few feet between him and
Julia, reaching for his radio.

"Frohike?"

A squawk, then, "Just rigging Langly up now. 
Five minutes more, Mulder.  Tops."

"Five minutes?"  Gabriel stumbled, grimacing at
the pierce of the rocks into his palm as he
barely saved himself from a nasty slide into the
ravine below.  At the nudge of an elbow, he
found Jesse's knife shoved his way.  Pocketing
the blade, he nodded at Jesse, barking into the
radio, "We may not have five minutes."

"Doing the best we can, Mul - shit!"  Frohike's
reply was cut off by the loud pops over the
speaker.  Gabriel met Jesse's startled look,
both men realizing that staccato rap they just
heard could be only one thing.

"Frohike!"  Over the roar of the dam and the
helicopter, Gabriel couldn't actually hear the
rapid-fire report of automatic weapons from the
other side of the dam.  Pausing, he turned to
squint in the darkness at the pops of light that
looked more like fireflies in the dense swathe
of trees far away.  "Frohike, answer me!"

Torn between wanting to make the meeting and
running to the obvious battle raging in the
forest opposite, he felt a clammy sweat break
out under his coat.  "Damn it, Frohike!  What
the hell is going on?"

Hoarse but there, Frohike's voice came back in a
shadowy, frantic whisper.  "We're under
attack... *shit*..." Muffled, heavy breathing
bled over the transmission.  "Byers!  Get down! 
The shack!  Go for the shack!"  More crackling
and panting, then, "Mulder, we're getting some
heavy fire here."

"Frohike, get out of there," Gabriel insisted,
despite the fact that their retreat would signal
the end for them all.  The personal sacrifice
his friends had endured for his sake had finally
reached an end.  If they left now, they may have
time to get safely away, though he doubted it. 
But he had to make them try - he could buy time
by creating a diversion of his own to stall his
father's leaving.  He was sure the reaction
wouldn't be set into motion until the selfish
old bastard was a safe distance from the scene. 
"Get back to the truck and haul ass!"

"No can do, buddy."  A few shots rang out,
followed by a gritty moan.  After a second or
two, Frohike said, "Byers is down."

"Shit."  There was nothing else he could do; he
had to lend assistance to the guys or none of
them would make it out.  As he turned to brave
the battle in the forest, a large hand settled
on his shoulder.

"Go on," Jesse stated with a nod.  Pulling a
pistol from his jacket, he backed away.  "I'll
take care of 'em."

"You'll never make it across the dam," Gabriel
pointed out, jerking his head at the
helicopters.

Jesse walked to the embankment, giving him a
chuckle.  "Catwalk right above the plumes, man. 
Thought you'd looked around this thing?"  With a
flash of a smile, he melted into the night.

Gabriel shook his head, wondering how Frohike
and the guys had missed that vital piece of
information.  They'd said the dam had been
undergoing patchwork right before the Invasion,
but it never occurred to any of them just how
the workmen would have had to scale the massive
walls of concrete.  He tucked it away, hoping
his father had missed it as well.  As a means of
possible escape, it was shaky, but there. 
Setting his jaw, he wrapped his fingers around
the knife in his pocket and took off.

It didn't take long to reach the conclave,
though he hung back, recognizing Krycek's black
figure, one arm hanging useless at his side, the
machine gun held in the other as if it was part
of his flesh.  His old nemesis slowly circled
behind Spencer, his head smoothly turning to
survey the immediate area.  Gabriel knew after
his outburst not long ago that they'd never let
him near, even though Spencer had agreed he
could be there.  He had to think of another
tactic, and quickly.

The helicopters wound down slowly as Spencer
walked out to the middle of the dam.  Leaning
heavily on his cane, he attempted an imposing
glare, not quite pulling off the intimidation. 
Gabriel crept around the back of the nearest
truck, keeping his eyes peeled for Julia.  But
she was nowhere to be found, and he assumed she
still sat in the truck parked further up the
roadway.  To try to get to her now would be
fruitless; he'd seen Spencer's men take up
positions along the dam's outer edges.  One step
into the light and he'd be picked off like a
duck in a pond.

Instead, he waited, gauging the distance between
him and his father.  After the exchange, he'd
have an easy shot - if he could get his hands on
another gun. *And* provided Frohike and the boys
prevailed.  He had no doubt his old man would
send them all to hell with him should he be
mortally wounded.  Clenching his jaw against the
impatient rise of anticipation, he brought the
radio up, his whisper hopeful.

"Frohike?  I'm in position."

Scratching hisses greeted his ears.  From where
he stood on the dam, he could no longer see
flashes of gunfire in the distance.  Biting his
lip, he tried again, dismay weighing him down. 
"C'mon man... talk to me."

Nothing.  They were all dead, had to be. 
Outnumbered as he was sure they were, they
couldn't last long.  Not even Jesse's help would
come in time.  His stomach churned at the
thought of how useless he was; how far he'd come
only to falter at the last minute.

No.  He wasn't going to give up.  He owed it to
them... to *her*.  Backing up, he turned to
follow Jesse.  He'd do a Spiderman if he had to.



End Chapter Twenty-Six