Copyright:  Thursday, March 10, 2005 06:52:44 PM         PARADISE ISLAND ATLANTIC OCEAN MID-AFTERNOON - DAY 5               Max was filthy.            It was his own fault, of course. He’d been sliding down the mountainside way too fast, and anxiety had made him careless. One moment he’d been clambering over a huge, mossy boulder. The next instant he’d been tumbling headlong down the steep hillside, and landing face-first in a thick, cloying patch of mud.            The hard impact had left him breathless, gasping for air. He’d barely even managed to roll over, so he wouldn’t suffocate in the slimy muck. But then sudden inspiration had chased away the pain and those bright lights dancing before his dilated eyes.            Maybe he wasn’t Rambo--but it made sense to camouflage himself before charging into danger. Soldiers and spies did it all the time in the movies, so why couldn’t he? He certainly wouldn’t do Penny any good if those bullies shot him before he could rescue her!            His once-white clothes were already filthy, so he raked a double-handful through his blonde hair to mute its bright color. The cool muck felt oddly refreshing against his hands and face in the muggy tropical heat.            Penny might not recognize him now, but he didn’t care. His impromptu disguise just might allow him to sneak up on Krycek’s men unnoticed. Nothing else mattered.            The cave entrance was only a few hundred feet below him, and the path they’d all trampled was partially visible between two large trees. Krycek must be holding Penny and Agent Mulder inside the cave--literally right beneath his feet. He cautiously edged forward a few more yards.            Now that he was here, he was suddenly struck by his own helplessness. How could he rescue them when Krycek was fully armed, and he only had Agent Scully’s old Russian bayonet tucked into his waistband?            Any movie hero would fashion a bola from vines and coconuts, and a sharp spear from some nearby branch. But then, a movie hero would know how to swing a bola without hurting himself. And even if Max had time to make a javelin, he’d never thrown one before.            Well, he’d better think of something, and fast!            How would Agent Mulder handle this situation? he suddenly wondered. Not that Agent Scully would ever need rescuing, she was so strong and courageous. But if it ever did happen, what would he do?            Well, he wouldn’t charge in headfirst without a plan, that was for sure. He’d get close enough to figure out where everyone was positioned, and he’d devise some clever plan. Something better than throwing rocks or coconuts.            A twig snapped under Max’s knee, and he froze for what seemed like an eternity. But nothing happened. No gun-wielding assassins charged up the hill to attack him. Finally he drew a cautious sigh of relief, and dared to relax slightly.            Gray slate winked in a fleeting beam of sunlight, drawing his attention to a low bush several feet below him. One of Reuben’s handmade stone plates was half-hidden in the thick underbrush.            Penny and Agent Mulder must’ve been emptying the cave when they’d been captured, he realized. Had they managed to hide the emergency kit, too, or had Krycek confiscated it?            New hope began to spiral through the anxious teenager as he crept closer to the bush, and warily slid his hand through its thick branches.            Voices suddenly echoed up through the ground beneath him, and he froze again. He was right over the cave’s main chamber now. If he could hear them, could Krycek and his men hear him moving overhead?            Every nerve in his young body screamed with unbearable tension as he cautiously groped past another plate, a coconut mug...            Plastic! His heart soared with excitement as he slowly closed grubby fingers around the long emergency kit, and edged it past their abandoned supplies.            Bless Penny for her quick thinking, he finally had a real weapon!            Trembling, he silently opened the kit, and fitted a white flare into the compact flare gun’s chamber. He’d never actually fired a gun before, he’d only practiced with video game simulations. Could he straight shoot enough to hit his target, even at such close range?            Could he shoot a man? Could he kill another human being? His stomach suddenly churned at the gruesome prospect, and for one brief instant he almost dropped the makeshift weapon.            But Agent Mulder would do it, to rescue his partner. How could he do any less for Penny?            You wanted to be an FBI agent, just like Mulder, a soft, accented voice seemed to mock him. His head snapped up, and he stared around at the shadowed trees in wild-eyed shock. How could he possibly be hearing his grandfather’s almost-forgotten voice here?            You can be anything you want, young Max. It is time to take that first step. It is time for you to become a man.            Icy shivers raced down Max’s spine. Anything was possible on this weird island--but he’d never expected this!            Well, it didn’t matter how his grandfather was reaching beyond the grave to warn and encourage him. The elegant old man was absolutely right. Saving Penny’s life was a man’s job. And now was the time to start.            He gripped the flare gun tighter. • • • • • •           "Esther! Get down!" Reuben urgently caught at a fold of his wife’s long skirts, and yanked her into the shelter of a low thicket. "Never stand up tall, where an enemy can spot you!"            How ironic, the old man reflected as his wife quickly hunkered down again, that his long-forgotten military training would resurface here, so many years after he’d retired! But the things he remembered--and he was remembering more all the time, as they slowly crept across the tree-studded mountaintop--just might save their lives.            "Move soft and careful," he warned her, "and keep your head down. Listen to the birds, they’ll go silent real sudden if anything startles them."            Something creaked overhead, and Esther jumped. Two slender tree trunks were rubbing together in the gentle wind. She rolled her eyes in mute embarrassment.            "No, that’s good," he encouraged, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You heard the trees moving, you were aware of it. Being aware of the little things, that’s what’ll keep you alive.            "Remember that time our sub was grounded in the South Pacific islands, and we had to avoid enemy patrols for three days while we waited for relief? We kept our heads down, and split into pairs, and we listened," the old man softly reminisced. "Everything we listened to, all the time! Birds, frogs, the trees and the wind, even how water splashed over the waterfall. That’s the one thing this island is missing, a good waterfall. Though I’ll grant you, that pool in the spores’ cave is pretty impressive. Water’s mighty tasty, too. Wish we could bottle it and take it home for the restaurant."            Then he smiled, and laid a gnarled hand on his wife’s plump arm. "You and me, we’ll move real slow and watch each other’s backs. No one I trust more in this world than my hometown sweetheart!"            It had been years since Reuben had called her that--but he hadn’t forgotten. Even after all this time, he still remembered the love that had brought them together, and stayed strong throughout the long decades. Esther blinked back tears, and forced her wayward emotions under control with an effort.            "What if we see any of those assassins?" she whispered, peering into the nearby rocky ravine. "We’ve got no weapons, Reuben!"            The old man spread both arms out to encompass the thick forest around them, and impudently winked at her. "There’s weapons everywhere, woman! You just don’t know where to look!"            His gentle teasing reassured her, and bolstered her wavering courage. Reuben had survived the entire war, and come back to her in one piece. It didn’t matter that they were both old now; some things you just never forgot. "You show me, then," she urged, briskly nodding her graying head. "We’re running out of time." • • • • • •           Birds were chirping outside the spores’ cave. Mulder took that as a positive sign, and cautiously edged into the small clearing.            Krycek’s gun was clutched in his right hand, and its bullet clip was reassuringly full. Scully’s 9mm was missing one round, but he still had plenty of ammo to kill Krycek’s hired thugs. Bring ’em on, he silently challenged, glaring up at the bright mid-afternoon sun. Let’s finish this, once and for all!            Sometimes it seemed like he’d been hunted by one person or another for most of his adult life. And all too often, Krycek had been holding the gun. He was sick of it.            I should have killed him, he protested to his reproving conscience. He’s just going to attack me some other time, when I’m not expecting it...            Cold silence was his reply. Sighing, he shrugged and edged closer to the concealing underbrush.            "Mulder!"            Scully’s urgent whisper made him spin around. Thank God she was safe! Relieved, he scurried over and dropped down into the thick foliage beside her.            "Where are the others?" he hissed, peering through the trees.            Scully sourly gestured over her shoulder. "Remember that big hole we saw down under the eastern cliffs? The entire hillside’s riddled with catacombs. We took shelter there before the tide rose, but Max found another way out. I think he’s headed off to rescue Penelope."            Mulder stared at her in dismay. "What the hell is he thinking of?" he demanded.            Scowling, he started to rise, but hesitated when she laid an insistent hand on his arm. "Mulder, I found something incredibly important down there..."            A flare gun’s distinctive whine suddenly echoed through the woods. The two agents stared at each other in horrified dismay. Then they broke cover, and dashed down the hillside at top speed. • • • • • •           Voices were still echoing from the ground under Max’s prone body. He pressed an ear to the dirt and listened. It always worked in the movies--but the joke must be on him, because he couldn’t understand a single word. They might be talking in German or Russian, for all he could tell.            He was pretty sure, though, that neither of those voices belonged to Agent Mulder. They were too deep, too raspy. Mulder had a clear baritone voice that would sound way different, even echoing up through the ground.            Where was Agent Mulder, then? Surely Krycek hadn’t killed him! Not while Penny was still alive, anyway. That was some small comfort--he wouldn’t kill one person, but leave the other alive to talk about it. He might have knocked Mulder unconscious, though, to keep him from escaping. Maybe that’s why Penny sounded so frightened.            So how could Max lure those goons out of the cave by himself? Because they’d shoot him on sight if he charged in there waving his knife and flare gun. For that matter, how could he lure them out one at a time, so that he’d have time to reload? The simple weapon only held one charge at a time!            Well, he wasn’t a purple belt for nothing–but this was a rotten time to field-test his martial arts training. Those guys wouldn’t play by the same rules, and he’d never truly fought anyone before. Real life was way different from a practice match in the gymnasium!            He did have the knife...            Guns, though. They’d have real guns, with real bullets.            Dammit, there must be some way he could cancel out their advantage!            A burly figure suddenly appeared beneath him, and headed down toward the beach. He hadn’t heard Max’s instinctive gasp of terror. His back was turned, it was the perfect chance!            Shoot, Max! that ghostly, autocratic voice seemed to urge. Shoot now!            Icy fear numbed the boy’s tightening fingers, and he hesitated for the barest instant. Shouldn’t he wait a little longer, so that he’d have time to reload before that other goon charged out of the cave?            The flare gun bucked in his hands, and white smoke spiraled through the trees. Damned useless thing, couldn’t it even shoot straight? Terrified, he wrestled with the gun’s release lever, and slammed another shell into the hot barrel.            Suddenly a bullet whined by overhead, high and to the left. Weasel-face had spun around to scan the hillside, but he couldn’t see clearly through all the branches. Max hugged the ground even tighter, and took careful aim. The first flare had gone wide, so maybe if he overcompensated in the other direction...            Urgent shouts suddenly echoed from the cave. Now or never, Maxie-boy! he decided, and resolutely pulled the trigger.            Smoke shot from the muzzle, and whizzed between two tall palm trees. There was no time to see if his shot had been true, or even to reload the flare gun. Gorilla-face was charging out of the cave, yelling and swinging his gun in wide circles.            Max dropped the useless weapon, and curled his fingers around the knife. It was an eight-foot drop, but he didn’t care anymore. At least he could take out one of Penny’s captors before the others killed him!            I love you, Penny! he silently vowed, and leaped off the sheer edge.            Trees whizzed by like blurs as he hurled himself at Gorilla-face’s broad back. The impact stunned them both, and sent them tumbling down the shallow hill. Hot sand stung Max’s eyes as he jolted to a painful stop against a nearby tree.            Scully’s knife! Frantically he fumbled for it, and staggered to his feet.            Gorilla-face was on his knees, blearily shaking his head. Before Max could move, he suddenly surged up and lunged down the hill, his ugly face twisted with grim fury. Metal sparked against metal as the boy desperately swung his long-bladed bayonet, barely deflecting the gun barrel aimed at his unprotected chest. Bullets whined into the underbrush, narrowly missing his ribs.            "Drop your weapon!"            Scully’s angry voice suddenly rang through the trees, startling Max and his burly opponent. "FBI! Drop it, now!"            Max had no idea whether Gorilla-face could understand her terse command. But the distinctive double-click of a 9mm being cocked needed no translation. Gorilla-face reluctantly spread his arms wide, and let the smoking gun dangle from two thick fingers.            Max released a shaky sigh of relief as Agent Mulder slithered down the steep hillside, and snatched the weapon away from his massive assailant. The knife dropped from his numb hand, and quivered in the trampled moss beside his dirty tennis shoe.            Scully kept her gun aimed at the thug’s wide back while Mulder deftly retrieved Max’s bayonet, and slashed a long section of vine from the nearest tree. The boy watched in numb silence as he jerked Gorilla-face’s arms back and securely tied them together.            "You okay, Max?" Mulder urged over one shoulder as, for good measure, he pushed Dmitri against the palm tree and looped the remaining vine around the bully’s waist. "Did he hurt you?"            "No." Max quickly shook his head, and the movement brought him back to life. "No, he didn’t. Not thanks to you." That admission would have rankled even a few days ago--but not anymore. Now he was a man, and it was okay to show his genuine gratitude to the courageous agent who’d just saved his life. "Thank you, Agent Mulder."            The new maturity in his voice made Mulder turn in surprise. Then he nodded, and laid an approving hand on Max’s shoulder. "There were two of them holding Penny, where’s the other one?" he asked, sparing the teenager any need for further apologies.            Max turned and pointed toward the restless surf. "Down there. I shot him with the flare gun. I think..." He suddenly gulped. Now that the excitement was over, he felt a little sick. "I think maybe I killed him."             Scully clambered down the last few yards, tossed an unfathomable look in his direction, and hurried toward the beach. "He’s still alive, Mulder," she called back a moment later. "Come help me tie him up. He’s going to have one helluva headache when he regains consciousness!"            "Max?" Penny’s frightened voice made him turn around. She was standing in the cave entrance, staring at him in confusion. "Is that you?"            Suddenly he remembered the black mud coating his face and hair. No wonder Agent Scully had given him such a weird look! A sheepish grin curved his lips as he futilely rubbed his cheeks with both hands. "Yeah, it’s me," he conceded, embarrassed. "Some disguise, huh?"            Her shoulders began to shake, and at first he couldn’t tell whether she was laughing or crying. Then she dashed down the hillside and threw her arms around his neck. "I knew you’d come back and save me!" she whispered against his shoulder. "Thank you, Maxie!"            He’d envisioned, even longed for, this glowing moment of triumph. But now that it was here, he had no idea how to respond. Awkwardly he stroked Penny’s long blonde hair. "Aw, you’re going to get all dirty, Pitstop," he mumbled.            For crying out loud, how would Agent Mulder handle this impossible situation? Should he tickle her, or kiss her, or...            But Mulder was already down on the beach with Agent Scully. So much for his help!            Sighing, Max settled for hugging Penny close, and listening as she breathlessly poured out every detail of her frightening adventure.            There would be time later, when he’d sorted everything out, to make things right. For now, this was enough.