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Midnight In The Firing Line
Deslea R. Judd
Copyright 2003
DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. Interpretation mine.
ARCHIVE: Yes, just keep my name and headers.
RATING: PG13.
SPOILERS/TIMEFRAME: Set eighteen months after The Truth.
CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: Post-series, casefile, mythology, XFVCU.
SUMMARY: Eighteen months after The Truth, the X Files are up and
running again, with all the old players in a new formation.
VIRTUAL SERIES SITE: http://xfvcu.deslea.com
AUTHOR SITE: http://fiction.deslea.com
FEEDBACK: Love the stuff. deslea@deslea.com.
AWARDS/ELIGIBILITY: Spooky Awards 2003 eligible.
"Thirteen years ago, a political aide with an interest in
veterans' affairs stumbled onto something big. She was lucky
enough to choose the right people to tell, and smart enough not
to get herself killed by the people who already knew. A task
force was created. A cover operation so deep, so complex that
those involved would maintain it at any cost. A conspiracy to
fight the conspiracy.
"It took us a decade, but we won. Some of us lived to tell the
tale, but all of us were maimed. Some of our scars are outward.
Some are inward. Some of our number were lost. Friendships were
destroyed, people were torn apart, and new loves were founded in
the ruins of the old. The lines between ally and foe became
blurred. Some of us did things we swore we never would. None of
us are who we were.
"Those of us who remain are left to pick up the pieces. There
have been changes in the world thanks to our work. Colonisation
is no longer a certainty. Our children have a future once more.
"But humanity itself remains our most dangerous predator. The
conspiracy is no more, but the need for protection is as strong
as ever. This is our work. This is X Files: VCU."
-- X Files: VCU Official Trailer
"Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted."
Scully smiled to herself. "You've read the papers then?" she
wondered, passing through the basement door, coming to stand
beside Mulder in front of his old desk.
He turned to face her, holding up a newspaper for her appraisal.
"I think we should save this one for the scrapbook, Scully."
She took it from him. "Who's in the firing line today? It
can't be Krycek or Spender, they were yesterday."
"Please - you're breaking my heart." He came around to look
over her shoulder. "No, I think you'll like this one. 'Tearful
Reunion At FBI Safe House. Baby William Comes Home.'"
"A slow news day, then." Her tone was withering, but a smile
played around the corners of her mouth.
"Pretty much." He took the newspaper from her and put it into a
cardboard box, on top of a stack of files. "What do you say,
after this meeting, we go home and spend the day with him?"
"Assuming we can pry him away from Mom," she said. "Just so
long as you know, we can't play hooky every day. Only
highly-paid consultants get to do that. We cheap ones have to
work for it."
Mulder hefted the box and put it under his arm. "Scully, do you
really think I'm cheap, or are you just saying that?"
Her retort was cut short by Doggett's voice. "You two stealing
the office stationery again?"
They both looked up, and she smiled. "Hello, John."
A broad grin spread over Doggett's face. "Good to see you two
back here." He came forward and shook Mulder's hand.
"It's good to be back," Mulder said, looking at the brand new
open space beyond what had once been the north wall. "Kind of."
"It's changed a bit," Doggett agreed, releasing his hand. "Got
a bit more space these days."
Scully followed their gaze. "You're going to need it. Have you
seen the papers?"
"The Hybrid Protection bill. Yeah. Monica and I heard it on
the radio this morning." He looked at his watch. "We're due
upstairs. You coming?"
Mulder nodded. "Right behind you."
Scully spared one last look over her shoulder at the basement,
and she followed them.
~x~
"They're not going to like it."
This statement was so obvious, so utterly self-evident that
Skinner gave Krycek the filthiest look he could muster. "They're
not the only ones, Agent Krycek," he said, stressing the title a
little more than necessary. "Need I remind you that thanks to
you, the FBI has come under fire from Congress, not to mention
the entire American public?" He slid a newspaper across the
table at him in disgust.
"FBI Defends Killer Agent. Victims 'Unavoidable Casualties,'"
Krycek read aloud. His voice was level, but his cheek flickered,
and Skinner knew he'd hit a nerve.
"It's yesterday's news," said Marita, sliding a newspaper of her
own at Skinner. "This is today's. And today, you need us."
He spared it only a glance; he knew the contents by heart. "I'm
well aware of the new political landscape. I don't know what you
two did to get him back on my staff, but I want it on the record
that I don't like it."
"Your objection is noted," Krycek said, with only the faintest
trace of irony.
Kersh spoke up from his stance at the front of the room. "Agent
Krycek," he said, "we're not under cover any more, and you're
expected to play by the rules now. Watch yourself."
Krycek's lips curled, just a fraction, displeasure barely
suppressed. "Yes, Sir."
They were interrupted by a sound from the doorway. Skinner
looked up, then got to his feet. "Agent Fowley," he said, coming
forward with his hand stretched out. "It's good to have you back
with us."
"Good to be back, Sir," she said, shaking it in a firm grip.
She released it, and walked around the table to Krycek and
Marita. She sat down at their side. Skinner wondered if that
was a show of allegiance, or if she just had some idea of what
was in the wind. It wouldn't have been the first time.
He didn't have a chance to ponder the question, however.
Mulder's animated voice could be heard through the door, saying,
"- and so this federal marshall, who's supposed to be guarding
us, says, 'Sure! I'd love-'"
He broke off mid-sentence as he rounded the door.
"What the hell is *he* doing here?" he demanded, glaring at
Krycek. Scully came around beside him, jaw set firm. Doggett
moved in through the door behind them, standing back a little
way. It wasn't like him to dodge bullets, but Skinner couldn't
blame him for sitting this one out. Hell, it wasn't his fight.
"Agent Mulder, please sit down. I'll explain everything once
the others have arrived." He wasn't sure Mulder was going to
comply, but he did, with visible ill-grace, Scully at his side.
"Who are we waiting for?" Doggett wondered, glancing back at the
door. Agent Reyes made a discreet entrance, saw Krycek, and
glanced quizzically at Doggett. He gave a minute shrug, and they
sat. Follmer and Spender were close behind her.
"No-one, now," Skinner replied, glancing at his watch. They
were still a few minutes ahead of schedule, but still, he'd have
expected them sooner, in the circumstances. "Agent Follmer,
could you close the door and sit down? We have a lot to get
through this morning." Follmer looked uncomfortable, presumably
at the mention of his lowered status, but he complied.
Kersh spoke. "Before Assistant Director Skinner begins, I would
like to welcome you all back to work. Agents Mulder, Scully, and
Fowley have all returned to us from witness protection as
planned. It's good to have the three of you back on deck." He
looked over at Jeffrey, eyelids flickering behind his glasses.
"Agent Spender returns to us from medical leave, and Agent
Follmer has returned to us as well." Skinner reflected that Kersh
was working his way down the list of undesirables, and saving the
best for last. "Agent Krycek also returns to our staff," he
said, looking pointedly at Mulder, "and you will make him
welcome."
"This is a joke," Mulder said. "It's a bad joke. Agent Krycek
killed my father."
"With FBI sanction, Agent Mulder. If it hadn't been Agent
Krycek, it would have been someone else. And there was no way
for him to refuse without blowing the operation."
"Not with mine," he fired back, and Kersh sighed.
"It was a regrettable situation. We've discussed this. For the
record, I sympathise."
"Then get him out of here," Scully said. "Send him off to
special ops or the CIA or wherever the hell FBI-sanctioned
assassins go to retire. How am I supposed to tell my mother that
I have to work with the man who killed her daughter?"
"He didn't kill your sister," Marita said. It was the first
indication from the Krycek corner that they were aware of the
discussion before them.
"What is she doing here?" Scully demanded.
"Ms Krycek is here on official business," said Skinner. "As for
Agent Krycek, we have no say in the matter. This assignment
comes from higher than either the Deputy Director or myself."
Mulder stared at Krycek, addressing him directly for the first
time. "You," he said. "You asked for this, didn't you? Why
can't you just leave us alone?"
Krycek seemed to deliberate. Skinner could almost see the
wisecracks and the double-talk hovering over his lips, but he
seemed to think better of it. "My wife and I were exposed to the
oil," he said. "We have a vested interest in monitoring the
progress of experimentation victims. And their offspring."
Skinner caught Kersh's eye, and Kersh gave a very slight nod.
Marita was pregnant, then.
"Assistant Director," Doggett said, "as fascinating as Agent
Krycek's motives may be, I'm a bit more interested in the rest of
the faces in this room. My understanding was that Mulder and
Scully would be working from home as consultants and that Reyes
and myself would continue with the X Files. So what's with the
cast of thousands?"
"The climate has changed, Agent Doggett," Kersh replied. "I
assume you know of the proposed Hybrid Protection Act?"
Reyes spoke for the first time. "It's a proposal for
comprehensive legislation to protect hybrids, experimentation
victims, and former super soldiers from discrimination, and to
ensure that they have access to appropriate medical care."
"Alleged former super soldiers," Doggett corrected. "We don't
know if the reversals are permanent."
"You're pretty circumspect, considering your old buddy McMahon
is spearheading the legislation," Follmer said.
Skinner stifled a sound of annoyance.
"Shannon McMahon isn't my buddy, and she's the Veterans' Affairs
advocate," Doggett said, with seemingly infinite patience before
moving in for the kill. "Not that I'd expect you to be familiar
with the finer details, what with being suspended for the last
couple of years and all."
"My testimony put away forty-seven cult members who wanted Agent
Mulder here dead. How many convictions have you had during your
time on the X Files again?"
"Testimony you used to get out of a murder rap with only a
demotion," Mulder retorted. "You're here on our shirt-tails,
Follmer, so don't use me to bolster your position."
Reyes leaned forward. "You know, I hate to interrupt your
pissing contest, but I for one would like to know why we're all
here."
"So would I," said Jeffrey. "A.D. Skinner, you were telling us
about the Hybrid Protection bill?"
Skinner nodded. "The Hybrid Protection bill changes things for
us. Agent Doggett, Agent Reyes - you've been warning Deputy
Director Kersh and myself for some time now that we would see a
marked rise in paranormal cases after the details of the cover
operation became public."
Reyes nodded. "That's correct. This is due to a rise in the
identification of genuine cases due to increased public
awareness, and false reports arising from fears and
misunderstandings among the general public. Media attention on
experimentation victims was also far greater than we originally
anticipated." Her gaze flickered over Jeffrey, by far the most
public face of the victims. There was very little scarring left,
but Skinner could still see a horribly disfigured man
superimposed over Jeffrey when he looked hard enough. He didn't
know if that lingering shadow would ever completely leave his
consciousness.
Kersh motioned to Marita with his hand. "Ms Krycek is here to
talk a little more about the impact of the Hybrid Protection
bill. She has been appointed to the United Nations committee for
the Care And Protection of Experimentation Survivors, or CAPES.
The FBI will be reporting to her on hybrid issues in law
enforcement on a regular basis." Which basically made Marita
their boss, Skinner thought irritably - his, at least. Follmer
caught the inference - he shot Skinner a sympathetic glance.
Marita cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "Agent Reyes is
correct in her assessment of the implications of growing public
awareness of the numbers of experimentation survivors within the
general population. However, the proposed Hybrid Protection Act
is a complicating factor. On top of legitimate cases, you're
going to see cases fabricated for political gain."
"How do you mean?" Follmer wondered.
Diana spoke. "Anti-hybrid groups will be trying to discredit
experimentation survivors and make them appear dangerous. The
pro-hybrid groups will fabricate cases to garner sympathy. There
will also be fabricated cases that serve the agendas of the
various factions - the ones that want hybrid registration, the
ones that oppose or endorse affirmative action, the ones that
want to differentiate between types of victims, and so on. And
the legitimate cases will all be used for those purposes as
well."
Marita nodded. "That's correct. Your work just got a huge
boost of credibility. You have a bigger budget, and a bigger
staff. But you're also in the spotlight. You cannot afford to
put a foot wrong right now."
"Sounds to me like this legislation is more trouble than it's
worth," said Doggett. "And it's going to protect people like
Knowle Rohrer."
"It's also going to protect people like Agent Spender," said
Mulder, and a vision rose in Skinner's mind, a memory of a
particularly horrid cartoon that had appeared in the New York
Times - a disfigured Jeffrey handing over an FBI folder to ET and
receiving a healing touch in return.
"And more than half the people in this room," added Scully, "and
our children." Looking at Marita, he saw her hand stray towards
her belly, and then she caught herself and moved it away.
He intervened. "Agents," he said. "Our job isn't to debate the
legislation. Our job is to handle the fallout."
Kersh took up the lead. "Exactly. Agent Fowley, you will be
partnered with Agent Krycek. Agents Doggett and Reyes will
continue together as before, and Agent Spender will partner with
Agent Follmer. You'll function mostly as independent teams, with
some overlap as needed. The six of you will work together in the
basement, with Agents Mulder and Scully offsite, at their home
and at Quantico. Technically, you're a branch of Violent Crimes
Unit, but that's mostly to expedite funding - for all practical
purposes you'll be a self-contained unit. Mulder, Scully, you'll
be on call for anyone in the unit who needs your expertise."
Mulder sat back, arms crossed over his chest. "You can't
seriously expect me to be on call for him," he said, looking at
Krycek with disdain.
"Believe me, Mulder, I don't like the idea any more than you
do," Krycek replied, levelling him with his gaze.
"Agents," Kersh said in warning. "Agent Mulder, your contract
requires you to serve the unit as needed. I won't allow you to
pick and choose which agents you'll work with. Either you're on
the team, or you're not. As for you, Krycek, try not to make any
more enemies on your first day back. You have enough of them as
it is."
Mulder's expression was mutinous.
Deftly, Skinner diverted the conversation. "Well, you all have
cases waiting for you, but I would like to draw your attention to
one in particular. Holly Buchanan, aged seven, died two days ago
after being struck by a teacher in Biloxi, Mississippi. The
teacher's name is Martin Shaw, former USMC, served for six years
before receiving a medical discharge. The locals are saying he's
a test subject. The case belongs to Doggett and Reyes, but it's
a poster child for every special interest group under the sun.
I'll expect you all to pitch in on this one if necessary."
There were murmurs of assent. Some were more heartfelt than
others.
"Daylight's burning, Agents," Kersh said, shuffling his papers
pointedly. "Doggett, Reyes, you have a plane to catch. The rest
of you have office arrangements to see to. You're dismissed."
They took the hint. The noise level rose as people got to their
feet and prepared to leave. Out the corner of his eye, Skinner
could see Mulder and Scully sharing a look of dismay. He
supposed his own expression wasn't much happier.
Diana was talking to Marita, but she looked over at Mulder and
Scully, touched her arm in farewell, and broke away. She came
around the table to meet them. Skinner followed her course with
interest.
"Fox?"
Mulder looked up at the sound of her voice. "Hello, Diana," he
said, rising, his voice suffused with warmth.
"It's good to see you. You look good. You too, Scully."
"Thanks." Scully's tone was polite, but short. She went on
with packing up her papers into her bag.
"Listen, I'm going to go down to purchasing and work out what to
do about the office furniture down there. Knocking that wall out
was good, but they weren't planning on having so many agents down
there. I'm thinking Doggett and Reyes can keep the desks they
have, and maybe something modular for the rest of us so we can
all fit. Any preferences?"
"Don't bother with desks for us," said Mulder, looking at
Krycek, talking to Marita and Kersh across the room. "We're not
going to be working here much anyway."
Diana sighed. "Fox," she said, taking his arm. "Don't let him
drive you out."
"We won't," Scully said, stepping forward, taking Mulder's other
hand in her own. "Don't worry about us."
Diana took the hint, releasing Mulder's arm and moving back a
fraction. "Well, good," she said. "I'll see what I can come up
with for downstairs. Good to see you again." She beat a hasty
retreat.
Skinner smiled to himself, but he had to admit that Diana had a
point. "She's right, you know," he said. They turned to face
him. "He's not worth it."
"Maybe none of it's worth it," Mulder said, and he turned on his
heel and walked away.
~x~
Scully was worried. "Talk to me, Mulder."
"I'm fine," he said, staring intently at the road.
Scully arched an eyebrow. "Mulder, how many times have I said,
'I'm fine'? And how many times have you believed me?"
"Too many, and never," he conceded, his mouth curling up at the
corners. It wasn't quite the grin she'd hoped for, but it was a
start.
"So?"
He shrugged a little, turning off the main road. "I just can't
help wondering whether it's worth us going back to the Bureau.
We don't need the money, and it's not as though it's all up to us
any more. We've talked for years about what it would be like
when we could finally have our lives back, and now it seems like
we're buying straight back into it all over again."
Scully frowned. "You're really thinking of quitting?"
Mulder pulled in to the curb. "I don't know. Maybe." He
looked at her. "Would you mind?"
She shook her head. "It's your decision, Mulder. Like you
said, it isn't all up to us any more." Getting out of the car,
she said, "But would you really be able to leave it behind?"
"I don't know," he said, talking to her over the roof of the car
while he locked up. "It's been a long time since I had a
choice."
Scully went to their door and unlocked it. "I know the
feeling." Letting herself in, she held the door for Mulder and
closed it behind him. "Mom? Are you here?"
"I'm upstairs with Will," Maggie called out, her voice distorted
and echoing down the hall. Scully hung up her coat, and then her
mother came down the stairs, footsteps clattering, William
perched on her hip. "Look, Will," she said, "Mommy's home!"
"Want Daddy," Will said, reaching out to Mulder.
Scully rolled her eyes. "Good to see I was missed." Mulder
laughed, taking the boy, who promptly wriggled free and toddled
off in the direction of the kitchen.
"How'd it go, honey?" her mother wondered, following them into
the lounge. "Any interesting cases to sink your teeth into?"
Mulder looked questioningly at Scully, but Scully gave a slight
shake of her head. It was the wrong time to tell her about
Krycek - not that there would ever be a really good time.
"There's one that might be interesting," she said. "John and
Monica are heading out to take a look. They'll probably want me
to do an autopsy tonight or tomorrow. Do you mind?"
"Of course not. Will and I have a lot of catching up to do."
Maggie's eyes were suddenly, unnaturally bright. "He remembered
me, Dana. After all this time."
There was a lump in her throat. "Agent Van De Kamp showed him
pictures of us all every day, Mom. She wouldn't let him forget.
We owe her a lot. She kept him safe. And she kept him ours."
Maggie looked away. Sniffling a little, watching Will, tugging
his bear off the coffee table. "I said some awful things to you
when you - when you sent him away, Dana."
Scully closed her eyes against the memory of that terrible day.
"You didn't know, Mom. It's okay." It wasn't, but too much had
happened. She didn't have the luxury of holding grudges against
the little family she had left.
Mulder was looking at them. Looking worried. She could almost
see the wheels ticking over in his mind, trying to think of ways
to break the moment.
"Mrs Scully," he said, "why don't you stay here today? Spend
some time with all of us? You could spend some more time with
Will. And I think we could all use some time out."
Maggie blew her nose on a white cotton handkerchief. "Don't be
silly, Fox, I'm sure you both have things to do."
"No, Mom," she said. Eager to bridge the gulf between them.
"Please stay."
So she stayed, and they spent the day together, renewing their
ties as a family.
~x~
Diana was annoyed.
"I only touched his arm," she said irritably, signing her name
on the requisition order in heavy strokes to emphasise her point.
Marita suppressed a grin. "You touch everyone," she
sympathised. "Hell, you've always got your hands on *my*
husband. Just as well I'm not the jealous type."
"Face it, Diana," said Krycek, "you and Jeff could screw right
there in front of her, and she *still* wouldn't believe you
weren't pining after Mulder."
"It's bloody ridiculous. How many years have we been divorced?
Ten? Eleven?"
"How many years since you kissed him?" she countered acidly.
Diana had the good grace to flush. "That's still five. You're
not helping." Marita just laughed.
"So do you really think this is going to work?" Krycek wondered,
peering over Diana's shoulder at the floor plan she'd sketched
out. Marita came around the other side. "That's a lot of people
in a small area. You sure we aren't going to kill each other
with our service weapons?"
Diana shook her head. "Doggett and Reyes still have their old
spots, so there's nothing to be territorial about there. And
you, me, and Jeffrey all get along well. Follmer can't afford to
make waves - he needs all the allies he can get. I think we'll
be fine."
"Speaking of Doggett and Reyes," Marita said, looking over her
shoulder at the agents in question, "I thought you were going to
Mississippi."
"I thought you were going back to your office," said Reyes
off-handedly from across the room, but there was no malice in her
voice. She was preoccupied, flipping through papers on her desk.
"I'm waiting to get the car keys from my husband, but as usual,
Diana's monopolising him," Marita said. "What's your excuse?"
"Our flight's in an hour," Doggett said curtly, pulling his
cellphone from his pocket when it rang. "John Doggett."
Krycek fished in his pocket and handed the keys to her. "Nag,
nag, nag," he said, but the fondness in his voice belied his
exasperated sigh. "See you at home?"
She took them. "Sure."
"That was Shannon McMahon," Doggett said from behind them. By
unspoken assent, they paused, listening. "She says we need to
look into this kid's parents. She wouldn't tell me any more over
the phone."
"That was fast," said Reyes. "How does she even know we have
the case?"
"I don't know. But it sounds to me like this might be a
frameup. Maybe a child abuse case hiding behind allegations
against the teacher."
Krycek spoke up. "They could be encouraging the media circus
down there. Might be worth poking around the journalists, see
who picked up the story first."
Doggett's voice was discernibly colder. "Like they did with
you, I suppose?"
Marita could see the slight stiffening in Alex's jaw. He said
mildly, "A.D. Skinner told us to help out, that's all."
"I think we can handle it." Doggett turned to Reyes, dismissing
them. "Come on, Monica, let's go."
Marita sighed, watching them as they left. "Damn him. That
wasn't fair."
Krycek shrugged. "I'd better get used to it, I suppose." She
wasn't deceived, but she didn't push it. "What do you make of
that, though?"
"The tip-off?" Diana said. "Not sure."
"Shannon is Veterans' Affairs," said Marita. "And Biloxi is a
military town."
"You're thinking the parents might be veterans?" Diana wondered.
"Or test subjects, more to the point," Krycek mused. "It's
possible."
Marita could feel the corners of her mouth turning up into a
grin. "Do you think it would be stepping on their toes if I were
to try to find out?"
Krycek was solemn. "A.D. Skinner told us to help," he said
ingeniously. Diana laughed.
"Then I'll help," she said simply, leaning up to kiss his cheek,
and then she left them there.
~x~
"So what do you make of all this, Monica?"
She didn't take her eyes off the road. "Well, John, that
depends on what you mean by 'all this.'"
Doggett stretched back in his seat, warming to his theme. "I
mean us being stuck with those guys. What Krycek said back in
D.C. about us all killing each other - I'm thinking he might not
be all that far off the mark."
"I don't know about that. You just agreed with him on
something. That's a start." She was smirking, and he smiled in
spite of himself. "But John, I think this could work out pretty
well. They've all got good service records, and they all know
the X Files. I think it could work."
He twisted in his seat to look at her properly. "I'm not
talking about their competency, and you know it. Krycek's a
wildcard."
"Krycek's also partnered with his wife's best friend."
"You seriously think Diana will keep him in line?"
Reyes nodded. "I think so. There's a connection there from
their undercover days. And she'll mediate between him and
Mulder."
Doggett snorted laughter through his nose. "I bet Scully will
love that."
She laughed. "John, this isn't about Krycek and you know it."
"I don't trust that guy, Monica. Sure, he was on our side, but
he also made a lot of trouble for us. That prank with the
nanocytes? He could have got Skinner killed, just to prove a
point."
"I hear you, John, but I know you. The thing that's really
chafing your ass isn't Krycek, it's having to work with Brad."
"He shouldn't even be here," he argued. "He used our work to
save his ass."
"And he sat in prison for two years, stalling and waiting until
he could do it without blowing the operation. He didn't have to
do that, John."
"Monica, the guy has nothing to do with the X Files. We only
brought him in in the first place because we had to. The only
reason we have him now is that no-one else wanted him."
Reyes shook her head. "He's a good agent. Sure, he's not going
to be making any Mulder-like leaps anytime soon, but he can hold
his own in the field."
It bugged him, hearing her defend him. He frowned. Didn't
answer.
"You're jealous," she said, clearly amused.
"Bullshit."
"You are so."
He cleared his throat. "What's the name of the school we're
going to again?"
She was struggling visibly not to laugh at him, but she didn't
try to change the subject back. "Everglade. We're not far
away," she added, peering at the street numbers out the window.
"Reckon it might be that media circus up ahead," he said,
leaning forward to get a better look at the throng of people
crowding on the sidewalk in the next block. The building looked
rather like a quaint old church, but on closer inspection, he
could see a sign inscribed with the legend, 'Everglade Community
School.'
"There are protesters," she said, pulling in to the curb. "Can
you read the placards?"
He peered. Reading aloud, he said, "Register Test Subjects Now,
No Freaks In Our Schools, Pig Fascist Military Frameup, Ban
Corporal Punishment, Real Men Don't Hit Children, Support Our
Town - Blame The Victim! - I'd say between them, we have all the
bases covered."
"Charming." Reyes switched off the ignition. "What do you say
we go stir up some trouble of our own?"
He grinned at her. "Lead the way."
~x~
"Everglade is a small school," Hank Geary said, closing the
windows against the rabble outside. "We started up in 1992, and
we decided at the outset to restrict the overall student count to
ninety. Martin Shaw was one of our founding teachers."
"How did you come by Mr Shaw?" Doggett wondered. He'd seen
schools like this in his search for schools for Luke. They
tended to be insular. He couldn't picture Geary stooping to
advertise in the newspaper. "Was he an acquaintance of yours?"
"Not directly, but we had mutual friends. He's a local, served
in the Gulf, came out with a medical discharge and needed a job.
I didn't ask too many questions - we don't talk much about Gulf
War Syndrome around here, too many military types around, but we
all know about it. Officially, he started out as a teacher's
aide, studied at night to get his certification, that kind of
thing. It worked out well."
Reyes frowned. "Until...?"
"We have a three-strikes corporal punishment policy. It isn't
often used. If there is a particular issue that does not respond
to regular disciplinary measures, the teacher has the ability to
offer two warnings and then administer corporal punishment. The
punishment is administered as a single stroke, either with the
flat of the hand or the cane, and it's done in the presence of a
fellow teacher."
"What did Holly do?"
"She left her sports kit at home. I realise that this is a
minor infraction, but it had been an ongoing problem for quite
some time. It seems that she didn't like to take phys ed. It
had developed into quite a phobia."
Doggett nodded. "So this guy Shaw caned her?"
Geary's voice was regretful. "Yes. It was done in line with
the policy. It should have been fine. But ten minutes later the
girl was dead."
Reyes nodded. "Do you have an explanation for that, Mr Geary?"
"I'm afraid I don't. There have been rumours. A local reporter
has been saying that Martin is one of these super soldiers."
"Do you believe that?"
"I don't think he's a super soldier. He doesn't have those
bumps on the neck that the papers keep talking about, and he
didn't have the memory lapses that some of them reported, either.
But a hybrid? Maybe. He might not even know himself." Geary
pointed to a door at the end of the corridor. "That's Shirley
MacIntyre's classroom. She was the witness to the punishment.
You'll want to speak to her, I suppose?"
Reyes nodded. "Yes, we would. Can we do that now?"
"Certainly. I'll take her class while you talk to her. Let me
get her for you." Geary left them, walking ahead to the
classroom door.
"What do you make of that?" Doggett wondered, hanging back,
watching Geary knock on the door.
She didn't answer for a moment - just stood there, thinking. At
last, she said, "I'd like to know what he really thinks."
"You think he's too neutral?"
"For a guy whose school is under siege with protesters for every
special interest group in the state? Yeah, I do."
He thought about this. "You think he knows what happened? Or
just has some suspicions and he doesn't want to believe them?"
Reyes opened her mouth to reply, but they were interrupted by
the bustling approach of the bountiful Mrs MacIntyre.
"I'm very sorry to keep you waiting, Mr Doggett, Miss Reyes."
She pronounced it 'Reeze.' "You with your important work and
everything, too."
Reyes smiled sidelong at him. She didn't correct her
pronunciation. "It's quite all right, Mrs MacIntyre. We only
waited a moment."
"I suppose you want to hear about the other day, don't you?
Such a lovely girl, too." There was none of the unconsciously
exaggerated grief Doggett had come to expect from bystanders in
these cases - just a slightly bewildered undertone of loss.
By unspoken assent, Reyes took the lead. "You were the witness
to a lawful punishment, I believe?"
"Yes. The policy requires it. We don't like to talk about,"
she looked around cautiously, "deviant teachers here. But that's
what the rule is for."
"To prevent child abuse under the guise of punishment."
"That's right."
Doggett spoke. "What happened that day, Mrs MacIntyre?"
"Well, it all seemed fine. Martin, that's Mr Shaw, he struck
Holly on her bottom with the cane while she leaned over a desk.
I'm sure he didn't do it hard - she was only seven, after all.
And it didn't make much of a sound. He was talking to her about
leaving her sports kit while he did it and he wasn't out of
breath."
He frowned. "Did he remove any of her clothing to do it?"
"Certainly not," the teacher said in clear affront. "It was
done through her skirt."
"So you couldn't have seen whether he left a mark at all."
Mrs MacIntyre hesitated. "Well - no -"
Reyes prompted, "Then what happened?"
"Holly stood up, and for a few moments she seemed to be all
right. She said, 'I'm sorry, Sir, it won't happen again Sir,'
very nice and polite, and then she went white and blood came out
of her mouth. She started to fall, and Martin caught her, and he
said, 'Oh my God, Shirley, get a doctor,' and I ran to the office
and they called the ambulance and then I went back to Martin and
Holly with Mr Geary, and then while we were waiting she died."
Mrs MacIntyre was quite breathless after this pronouncement.
"How did Mr Shaw seem to you afterwards?" Doggett asked.
"He was devastated. We all were. The five of us - Hank,
Martin, myself and the parents - we all just sat in Hank's office
and cried."
Doggett frowned. He tried to picture the teacher and the
parents in the same room so soon after the girl's death, and he
couldn't do it. "What happened after that?"
"Hank sent him home. He's on paid leave."
"Paid leave?" queried Reyes. "Not a suspension?"
Mrs MacIntyre looked shocked. "Certainly not. We look after
our own."
"So if we wanted to talk to him, we'd talk to him at home?"
"No, the protests got too bad. He's staying with the
Buchanans."
Reyes stared at her.
"The Buchanans? Holly's family?"
Shirley MacIntyre nodded. "It's like I said, Miss Reyes. We
look after our own."
~x~
"I want to be tested."
Reyes blinked. "I don't think I follow."
Martin Shaw sat there in the Buchanan living room, hunched up
into the smallest space possible on the corner of the couch. His
hands were splayed out flat on his knees.
"I want to be tested," he said again. "I want to know what they
did to me."
Doggett spoke. "You think the military did something to you
when you served, and that's why that little girl died?"
"Did you see her body? What else could it be?"
In fact, they hadn't seen the body. The coroner had flown it to
Quantico at their request before they left D.C. But he'd seen
the photos. The lower half of Holly's body was one massive
haematoma.
"Mr Shaw, there is no one test, or even a range of tests, for
what the military did. At most, we can loosely identify a range
of syndromes. Most of the documentation about root causes is
still covered by official secrets legislation. Veterans' Affairs
is working their assess off trying to get people diagnosed and
treated, but there's no formal avenue for what you're asking
for."
"Then what are these people supposed to do?" Shaw demanded,
nodding at Holly's mother, clinking cups and saucers through the
door in the kitchen. "What am I supposed to say to them? Their
daughter died because of me and now they - they -"
Melody Buchanan came hurrying out. "Martin, don't upset
yourself. No-one blames you. You couldn't have known." She
patted him gently on the shoulder.
Doggett refrained from pointing out that there was a good crowd
of people in town who seemed to blame Martin Shaw.
"Thank you, Melody," Shaw said, touching her hand. "You've been
a great comfort." Doggett was struck forcibly by the odd little
role reversal being played out.
"Are you finished with him?" Mrs Buchanan asked them. "I'd
think Martin should lie down. He's been very upset."
"Thank you, Melody. I'd like that."
"For now," Doggett said. "We'll telephone if we need to ask you
anything further. You'll be here?"
"If not, Melody or Hank Geary will know where to find me. I
won't be far." Shaw excused himself and made his way up the
stairs.
"Poor Martin," Melody Buchanan sighed, watching him leave. "He
came back from the Gulf broken, you know. Lots of men did. He's
a gentle soul. And this whole thing has been a nightmare."
Reyes was frowning. Clearly perplexed. "Pardon me for asking,
Mrs Buchanan, but how is it that you came to be hiding Martin?"
Mrs Buchanan shrugged. "This was the one place that the
protesters wouldn't think to look for him. We all talked about
it at Everglade - my husband, myself, Hank and Shirley. It
seemed like a good idea."
"You must understand why we're surprised."
"Well, it's hardly his fault, is it? The military and their
awful tests. If anyone's to blame for my poor baby, it's
certainly not Martin."
Doggett's head hurt. He could sense the imbalance here, the way
that the picture was off-center, but he couldn't quite lay his
hand on what would make it look right. He said, "You feel
strongly about it, then?"
"It's a military town, Mr Doggett. Everyone knows someone who
was tested on, or who served with someone who was. There are a
lot of people in this community who feel very betrayed."
"Were you or your husband in the military?" he wondered.
Mrs Buchanan shook her head. "But we have friends, of course."
Reyes said gently, "Why don't you tell me about Holly?"
Melody Buchanan swallowed hard.
"She was - she was a lovely girl. Very polite. Very gentle.
She loved - she loved to play with her guinea pig. She-" she
broke into tears. "I'm sorry. I have another daughter, and my
husband, and poor Martin. I've had - I've had to be strong-"
Doggett looked around, and spied a box of tissues on the dining
table. He went and got them and brought them to her. She took
one mechanically.
"They won't put him in jail, will they?"
"Mr Shaw?" he said. "Probably not. We won't know for sure
until we get the forensics back, but at this stage, I'm not
seeing enough to have him charged with a crime."
"That's something," she sniffled. "Do you think he'll be
allowed to teach again? He was so good with the children. Holly
and Isabel adore him-" and then she apparently remembered that
Holly was dead, and she struggled against fresh tears.
Privately, Doggett doubted that Shaw would teach again, but he
said, "Let's just wait and see what happens."
"Someone from the FBI will be in touch about releasing Holly for
burial," said Reyes. "The coroner is flying her out to our
forensic facility in Virginia, but it won't be for long."
Mrs Buchanan blew her nose. "They'll be gentle with her, won't
they?"
Reyes nodded. "The forensic doctor is a friend of ours. She's
a mother too. She'll be gentle."
She summoned a watery smile. "Thank you."
They showed themselves out.
~x~
"I have food and information. Which do you want first?"
Diana looked up from her seat at Doggett's desk. "If that's
Chinese, food."
Krycek turned, then rose, and drew Marita close. "Information,"
he said, kissing her soundly.
"You only love me for my contraband," she chided. "Where's
Jeffrey?"
"Out somewhere trying to lose Follmer, probably," he replied.
"What have you got?"
"Melody and Ian Buchanan used to be Sergeant Melody Chesterwood
and Corporal Ian Prescott, both USMC. Buchanan is his mother's
name. They changed it when they got married."
"So they are military, then?" Diana asked, extricating the
take-out from Marita's hand.
"Were," she corrected, rifling through her portfolio. She found
the folder she was looking for and handed it over. "Both
discharged on medical grounds in 1994. There's a nine-month gap
in their service records just before that. My contact says they
were part of a program called Delineate. She doesn't know what
it was."
Krycek frowned, skimming the couple of pages of hand-scribbled
notes inside. "We should call the others. Who do you think
would be more receptive?"
"Reyes," said Diana. "Definitely."
He smirked. "So. I'll call Doggett." Diana laughed.
"I can't stay," Marita said while Krycek picked up the phone.
He wedged the receiver between his shoulder and his cheek and
waved. "Are you coming over tonight, Diana?"
Diana nodded, leading her out the door into the corridor.
"Jeffrey's catching up with Fox, so it'll be just me tonight."
"How's that going?"
"Not bad. They're still getting to know each other. It's going
to take time."
"So what's on your mind?" she wondered, pressing the elevator
button with a smug little smile. The way Diana had led her out
was subtle, but not subtle enough.
Diana's voice was tinged with amusement. "Am I that
transparent?"
"To me?" she laughed. "Yes. What's on your mind?"
Diana shrugged. "I suppose I just wondered why you came back
here." She pointed out, "You could have told us about the
Buchanans over the phone."
Marita sighed. "I don't know. There was nothing specific. I
was kind of worried about Alex, though. This isn't a great
situation for him."
"I agree. But he'll be fine - this *is* Alex. He survived
working for the Consortium, after all."
"He didn't hate the Consortium as much as he hates Mulder and
Skinner," she retorted as the elevator doors slid open. She was
only half joking.
Diana laughed, but her good humour had dropped back a notch, she
noted. "I'll keep an eye on him."
"Thanks." She stepped into the elevator.
"Anything for a friend who comes bearing Chinese."
Marita laughed as the doors slid closed behind her.
~x~
"She's not angry enough," Doggett said, clattering down the
steps of the Buchanan household.
Reyes looked at him curiously. "I'm listening."
He thought a moment, choosing his words carefully. "She's sad,
but she isn't angry. It's not like her kid was killed in an
accident. It's more like she died after a long illness. Think
about it, Mon - her daughter died two days ago because this guy
hit her for leaving her sports kit at home. Even if she really
doesn't blame him in her head, wouldn't you think just a little
part of her would be blaming him in her heart?"
She nodded. "You would. But it's more like she feels bad for
him."
"Either these people are saints, or they're hiding something,
and I'm betting they're hiding something. This whole thing is
wrong."
Reyes was nodding. Frowning. "I agree with you, John." She
fumbled for the keys to their rental and found them. "So where
to now?"
He shrugged. "Shannon said to look into the parents. Canvas
the neighbours, maybe." His cellphone rang, and he answered it.
"John Doggett."
It was a bad line, but not so bad he couldn't make out the voice
on the other end. "Doggett, it's Alex Krycek."
Doggett stifled a sound of annoyance. "What do you want,
Krycek?"
"I don't want anything," the voice on the other end said
patiently. "I've got some information for you about the
Buchanans."
He was conscious of an urge to tell Krycek to back off, but in
light of their meeting with Melody Buchanan, he swallowed it.
"Go on," he said grimly. He listened while Krycek filled him in,
gritted his teeth and thanked him, and rang off.
Reyes was looking at him. "Well?" He told her.
"Should we confront her with it?" she said, looking back at the
Buchanan house. "Or hold off?"
He thought about it. "They're not going anywhere. Let's go
back to the hotel and wait for the autopsy results. I'll make
some calls and see what I can find out about this Project
Delineate."
~x~
"Where's Scully?"
Mulder took a mouthful of beer. "She's at Quantico doing the
Buchanan autopsy. She's been gone a while - she shouldn't be
long. So in the meantime, it's just us boys," he added, mostly
to Will, who was sucking interestedly on Jeffrey's tie.
"How are you?" Jeffrey asked. "After this morning, I mean?"
"I don't like it," he said. He considered broaching the subject
of quitting the Bureau, but he decided against it for now. "What
about you?"
Jeffrey said diplomatically, "Working with Follmer's going to be
a challenge."
Mulder smirked. "Now, Jeffrey, there's no need to be tactful
with close relatives."
"Okay, working with Follmer is going to be the bane of my
existence. He's too conventional, too correct, and too
by-the-book. The guy's a goddamn politician."
He laughed. "Gee, that sounds familiar."
Jeffrey had the good grace to flush. "I learned better."
"Follmer could, too," shrugged Mulder, though he didn't think it
was very likely.
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
He took another drink of his beer. "Just playing devil's
advocate. I hardly know the guy."
Jeffrey stretched out on the couch, inadvertently pulling his
tie out of William's reach. Will screwed up his face in
irritation. "Doggett doesn't like him."
Mulder lifted Will and deposited him on the floor. He looked up
and said plaintively, "Want Jeffrey's tie, Daddy."
Cooperatively, Jeffrey began to unknot it, but by the time he was
done, Will had forgotten about it. He was inspecting the
dustbunnies under the couch.
"I'd take that with a grain of salt," Mulder said, as though
there had been no interruption. "Doggett not liking Follmer, I
mean. Follmer used to be hooked up with Reyes."
"Was he? I didn't know."
"It's a basement thing," he grinned. "Everyone hooks up down
there. Me and Scully, Doggett and Reyes, you and Diana."
"Krycek and Follmer?" Jeffrey said with a mischievous twinkle.
"They're the only two left."
"Marita would love that."
"Marita would join in," Jeffrey countered, laughing.
Mulder choked on his beer. "I don't want to know."
"I'm kidding. Seriously, Follmer's not going to get too close
to Krycek. He's not going to want to be tainted by association."
"That's something. It's bad enough Krycek's got Diana in his
corner. You too, for that matter."
Jeffrey held up his hands. "I'm non-partisan here. I'm not
going to get caught up in your war with him, no matter how
justified it might be. I have to work with him, I have to
socialise with him, and I just don't need the stress."
Mulder shrugged. "Fair enough." It wasn't, really, but he and
Jeffrey were still in the first, tentative stages of getting to
know one another as brothers. It was too soon to expect that
kind of loyalty, and doing so could well drive Jeffrey away. He
didn't want to do that.
"There's something else about Follmer."
"What about him?" he asked, diverted.
Jeffrey frowned. "Well, we spent the morning together - went
down and got our service weapons, listened to the others argue
about the furniture, all that kind of stuff. There were just a
couple of things he said - I get the feeling that he's not too
hot on survivor rights."
Privately, Mulder thought that might not be such a bad thing,
given Jeffrey's leanings in the other direction. He said only,
"That could get tricky in the field."
"Yes, it could. I hope I'm wrong. I don't want to be reining
him in every time we have to question a hybrid."
They were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and
closing, and then Scully appeared in the doorway. "Hi Jeffrey,"
she said, taking off her coat and leaving it on the side table.
Jeffrey waved. Mulder got to his feet, and she came over and
kissed him. "How was Will?"
"He was fussing at first, so I gave him a beer and let him surf
internet porn and then he was fine."
"Mulder," she said in mock reproach.
He smiled broadly at her and sat down again. "What's happening
with the Buchanan case?"
Scully dropped down in the armchair opposite. William crawled
out from beneath the coffee table and wandered over, and she
picked him up. "Holly Buchanan died of massive internal
bleeding. It doesn't look like the teacher did anything wrong,
though - she had haemophilia. An unusually severe case. She's
lucky she survived as long as she did."
Jeffrey frowned. "Isn't that supposed to be rare in females?"
"It's very rare. Haemophilia is a sex-linked recessive gene.
For a female to get it, the mother has to be a carrier and the
father has to have it as well, and even then there's only one
chance in two. That's why it used to be considered a royal
disease - because once it was introduced into the bloodline, the
intermarrying within the British and European royal families made
it much more likely for the gene to be pass it on."
Mulder nodded. "So the case is solved?" But somehow he didn't
really think it was. There were lines etched into her brow.
Something wasn't quite right, he thought.
Scully shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "There's still some
question marks. Doggett said the parents lied about their
military service, and they did receive medical discharges. But
on the other hand, a lot of people are lying about their military
service right now, just to keep out of the firing line. I don't
see how the two could be related. It's a genetic disorder."
Jeffrey said thoughtfully, "The hybrids were genetically
modified. Look at what they did to my mother."
She gave him a respectful nod, but demurred, "They wouldn't be
modified to have a genetic disorder, though, surely. The idea
was to make the super soldiers invulnerable, not vulnerable."
Mulder got up and paced. "But this wouldn't make them
vulnerable. It would make their offspring vulnerable. Scully,
what if they were trying to make it so that the races couldn't
mix? So that any mixed-race child would die?"
Jeffrey stared up at him. "It would make sense. The alien race
was big on racial purity."
Scully frowned. "I have some blood samples from the parents at
Quantico. They provided them for identification purposes. I
could run some tests, see what I can find out."
Mulder nodded, and got to his feet to take William from her.
"I'll watch him."
Scully handed him over. She shot him a good-natured grin.
"Just try and keep him out of the porn."
~x~
"Scully thinks she might know something about Project
Delineate," Doggett said, hanging up the phone.
"I should hope so, with that timing," said Reyes, flushed and
breathing hard. "What does she think?"
He scooted over in bed, getting closer. "She thinks it was a
project experimenting with haemophilia genes, trying to make it
so that any child of a super soldier and a drone would die, to
prevent interbreeding. That's Mulder's theory, anyway. She
doesn't have anything definite yet - she's sent off the
Buchanans' blood for further analysis - but she says that there
are visible peculiarities in their X chromosomes."
"Haemophilia is carried in the X chromosome, isn't it?" she
said. Her breathing was returning to normal.
Doggett nodded. "That's right."
"So what do you think?" she wondered. "Do you think the
Buchanans knew?"
"Knew, or suspected," he said. "Holly didn't want to do phys
ed. Maybe her parents told her not to. Maybe they were afraid
she'd get hurt. Maybe they were going to let Martin Shaw take
the fall because they were afraid of being exposed as test
subjects themselves."
Reyes frowned. "What if it goes deeper than that?"
"What do you mean?"
"John, they changed their names in 1994. That's long before
anyone in the general population knew anything about the tests."
"You think they might be running from something else?"
She nodded. "I think it's a possibility."
He thought about it. "Maybe. Maybe the military." He pulled
away from her and picked up the phone once more.
"Who are you calling?" she said, sitting up, pulling on her
dressing gown.
"Shannon McMahon," he said, flipping through his wallet looking
for her number. "She gave us this. She must have some idea."
He found it, and keyed in the number.
The phone rang out for close to a minute, but at last, there was
a click, and then a sleepy voice on the line. "This had better
be good."
"Shannon," he said. "It's John Doggett. I'm sorry to wake
you."
Shannon's voice was suddenly alert. "John. What is it?"
"I'm wondering if you know anything about a Project Delineate."
"Delineate?" she repeated. "What's got you wondering about
that?"
"Then you have heard of it," he prompted.
There was a rustling noise. He thought she was probably getting
out of bed. "I have, but I don't know much about it - it was
some kind of racial purity experiment in the mid-nineties. It
didn't last long."
"Can you get me a list of people who were involved?"
He could detect the frown in her voice. "I don't know. Maybe.
Is this about the case in Biloxi?"
Doggett hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded. "We think the
Buchanans might have been part of it."
He could hear sounds of movement. "All right. Stay on the line
and I'll fire up the computer and see what I can get you." More
movement, both foreground and background, and the sound of a door
opening and closing. He thought he knew what it was.
"Aw, shit, Shannon, I didn't mean to interrupt your hot date."
Shannon laughed. "No such luck, I'm afraid. I just knocked
something with my foot, that's all. I'm turning on the computer.
Jesus, this is taking forever to boot."
"I'm sorry for getting you up."
"It's not a problem. I only sleep from habit."
"You still don't need to, then?" he wondered, momentarily
diverted.
Rustling sounds of hair as she shook her head. "No. Our
biological capabilities are unchanged by the alien withdrawal."
He raised an eyebrow, causing Reyes to look at him with open
curiosity. "That's not what you've been saying in public."
"What am I supposed to say, John?" she scoffed. "'We're people
too, please be nice to us, and by the way, I can whack off your
head with my bare hand'?"
Doggett had a memory of that night two years earlier in
Baltimore and shuddered.
"Here we go. Project Delineate went through ten test subjects
before they pulled the plug on it. Most died within six months -
Amity, Drury, Graham, Harlen, Mackaness, Schuyler, Tubb, and
Verity. Chesterwood and Prescott are missing. Are those the
Buchanans?"
He nodded. Frowning. "We think so."
"You should get over there and sit on them, John. It looks to
me like someone's been picking off the Delineate subjects. This
case might have drawn attention to them. If you put the pieces
together, someone else might have, as well."
He was already reaching for his clothes. "Will do. Thanks,
Shannon."
"Don't mention it."
He rang off. Reyes was watching him.
"We've got to get over there, Monica. I'll explain on the way."
~x~
Martin Shaw was weeping.
"We thought - they were protesters - coming for me," he
stammered. "The Buchanans told me to hide in the cellar."
Doggett paced, looking around the ruins of the Buchanan living
room. Furniture was overturned, and the debris of scattered and
broken bric-a-brac lay everywhere, but there was no sign of
robbery. He would get the police department out to dust for
prints, he supposed, but he doubted they would find anything.
"So you stayed in hiding?" Reyes wondered.
Shaw nodded. "They said it was better that way. But then -
they took them - Melody and Ian and Isabel as well - I understand
about the parents, but why take the girl? Why?"
The two exchanged glances.
Reyes said gently, "You knew, didn't you, Mr Shaw? You knew you
weren't the test subject here. You were taking the fall for it
so the Buchanans wouldn't be found out."
He looked up at them, from one to the other. "We look after our
own at Everglade, Agent Reyes. I'd have been taken care of, one
way or another. It's just how we do things."
"Shit," Doggett burst out in frustration. "It was stupid of you
not to tell us. We could have helped them if we'd known."
Shaw stared at him. Tears forgotten. "How?" he demanded. "By
putting them in the Federal Stockade to be killed at the next
shift change? All you agencies are in one another's pockets,
whether you like it or not. Even Holly's body is with the
military, have you thought of that?"
Reyes looked at Doggett in alarm. "I'll call Scully. We'll put
agents on the labs at Quantico."
"It won't help," said Shaw. "You people think you changed the
world with what you did with all those hearings. Well, you
didn't. You just made a little dent in the surface." He nodded
at the window. "It's still the same old world out there. It's
still midnight out there, and the wolves are still at the door."
Doggett gave the man what little he could. "I promise you, Mr
Shaw, we're not giving up on the Buchanans."
"The Buchanans are gone," Shaw said, and he got to his feet,
hugging himself, and he turned and walked away.
~x~
"We were too late," said Reyes, staring out the window.
Doggett rubbed his hair with his towel. "You heard back from
Scully, then?"
She nodded. More morose than he'd ever seen her. "Holly's
body, the blood samples, the slides - it's all gone." Tears
spilled over her cheeks. "Oh, John, that little girl - I
promised her mother we'd be gentle with her."
"Oh, Mon." He came up beside her and squeezed her shoulder,
then drew her close. She bowed her head as the tears flowed
faster.
Finally, she managed to get them under control. She drew back
to look at him. "John, there's something else."
He stroked back her hair off her face. "What is it?"
"Scully got a look at the security tapes at Quantico. We've got
an ID on the guy who took it all."
Doggett whistled. "Maybe we got lucky after all. Who was it?"
"Someone we thought was dead." Reyes was pale. "It was Knowle
Rohrer."
~x~
Krycek knew he was there before he made himself known.
Part of it, of course, was the near-preternatural instincts that
had kept him alive. But part of it was that he had expected it
sooner. He suspected that he had chosen his morning routine with
this very meeting in mind.
He was aware of the presence when he left the apartment they'd
sublet from Reyes, and he was aware of it as he walked briskly in
the silence of early morning. He was aware of it crossing the
main road. It wasn't until he reached the children's playground
that his shadow made himself known.
"You're looking well, Alex."
Krycek held up his hand, shielding his eyes from the glare of
the rising sun. "Well, look who's back in the colonies. And
here I thought you still were in the fatherland."
The well-manicured man before him spared a laugh. "You thought
I was burning in hell," he said, with the tone of one indulging
an infant.
"Oh, come now, I'll grant that a six-year tour of England's
stately homes comes close, but it's nothing the odd ski trip
can't fix. And while I think of it, tell Lady Hillary that her
geraniums are looking very nice this year. Oh, wait, she's the
one who hated you, isn't she?"
"If you've quite finished showing off your mastery of elementary
surveillance, I have some information to share with you about the
Buchanan case. I assume you're aware of the events overnight?"
Krycek sat down on the children's swing. "Scully told Mulder,
Mulder told Jeffrey, Jeffrey told Diana and Diana told me. I
plan on suggesting that Skinner take our reports through the
grapevine for increased speed and efficiency."
"Alex..."
"Why are you here, old man? What's in it for you?"
The Brit paced a little. "I'm sure you're aware that the
international community is less than pleased with Uncle Sam right
now."
"I'll bet," he said. "So who are you working for these days?
MI5? House of Lords?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"You're just the consultant, I suppose? Isn't that a bit of a
come-down for you?"
The Brit sighed. "Truly, Alex, dealing with Fox Mulder is less
exasperating."
"I'm wounded," he said in mock dismay. "All right, all right,
I'll bite. What information do you have for me?"
"Agent Mulder's theory about Project Delineate was right, but he
was only half-right."
Krycek worked not to visibly betray his interest. "Go on."
"The haemophilia gene was modified to be a dominant gene. Had
the project continued, it would have formed part of the
apocalypse. Every naturally-conceived child of human parents
thereafter, whether purebred or crossbred, would have had the
disease."
"For what purpose?"
"The purpose was twofold. Firstly, to prevent successful
interbreeding, as Mulder posited. Secondly, to prevent the
drones from breeding an army. If the alien race wanted more
drones, they intended to clone them using the tissue samples
taken from the population in the course of Bill Mulder's vaccine
project. Uncontrolled human reproduction was considered both
unnecessary and potentially dangerous to the alien race."
"But the project was aborted," Krycek said. "Why?"
"A change in leadership. A general with a haemophilic son.
Simple human sentiment."
"That's one way of phrasing it. Ethics is another."
The Brit laughed - not the politely mocking laugh to which he
was accustomed, but a genuine sound of amusement. "You've gotten
sentimental in your old age, Alex."
"You wish." He held the old man with his gaze. "So the
Buchanans were taken to cover it up?"
"To clean it up. The same general ordered the extermination of
the test subjects to prevent the gene from entering the general
population. The Buchanans and their surviving child were the
only ones left."
He thought on this. "So Knowle Rohrer was acting under orders?"
"It's hard to say. The chain of command isn't as clear as it
once was." It occurred to Krycek that this was perhaps the first
time he had ever heard the Brit admit there was something that he
simply didn't know.
"But...?" he trailed off. Waiting.
"But I can tell you, Agent Krycek, that he got his information
from Shannon McMahon."
~x~
"I was wondering why you'd taken to walking near my house. It's
a bit out of your way."
"Only by a few minutes." Krycek took a drink from his cup and
set it down on the stoop. "I just really like your coffee."
Diana snorted laughter. "Bullshit. You knew he was going to
approach one of us sooner or later. And I have to tell you, I
appreciated the birds' eye view."
"Yeah, I thought you might. I figure he did, too. It's not the
sort of thing he'd do by accident."
"No. It isn't." She looked out at the playground, thinking
about it. "You have to tell them, Alex."
Krycek frowned. "You know, Diana, if this partnership is going
to involve you telling me what to do all the time, you're gonna
have to get in some stronger coffee."
"Very funny."
"It would be, except for the part where I'm not kidding."
"Alex..."
He said in exasperation, "Damn it, Diana, what would it solve?
It makes no difference to the outcome of the case. It's not as
though the information would convict someone, or clear someone.
All it does is make me look even more suspect than I do now.
What purpose does it serve?"
"That's not the point," she said, picking up his empty cup and
resting it on her lap with hers. "We're a team."
"No. You and I are a team. Us and them are not a team."
"We were once."
"No, we weren't. I was just the stupid kid that the Consortium
wanted as their patsy, but the Bureau got to me first. I was too
young, too green, with no idea what I was getting myself into. I
lost my arm, my wife lost years of her life, God knows if our
baby will be all right, and they don't want me but they'll still
use me if they can. Fuck that shit. At least the Consortium
didn't pretend to be the good guys while they stabbed me in the
back."
Diana sat back. "Wow. I really don't know what to say to
that."
Neither did he. He didn't say anything.
"Alex," she said finally, "what was it that he said about Fox?
He was right, but he was only half-right?"
He gave a grunt that might have been a yes.
"Well, you're right. You are. I know it, even if they don't.
But you're only half-right. The other half is, you chose to come
back. Okay, you don't want to be here and it's because you're
worried about the baby and all the rest of it, but you chose it.
Now, you can either do it properly or you can do it halfway. And
the Alex Krycek I know never did anything halfway. That's why
you survived, Alex - every side you were supposed to be on, you
lived it. Completely. That's why they hate you, but it's also
why you're still alive."
He sat there. Quiet. Morose. He gave no indication that he'd
heard a word she said.
She sighed and took the cups inside.
When she came back, he was standing, looking out at the
playground. He said, "I'm going home. Marita's waiting." He
didn't meet her gaze.
She sighed again. "All right. Tell her I said hi."
"Will do." He got to his feet and walked down the steps to her
garden. When he got there, he paused. "I'll tell them," he said
abruptly. "But I'm not telling them who gave it to me. Good
enough?"
It was something, she supposed.
"Good enough."
~x~
Doggett was pacing in front of his desk.
"We need a public health alert," he said. "We need to notify
the CDC, and get out bulletins to the doctors and hospitals."
Scully pushed away from her stance by the wall. She shook her
head. "I feel the same as you do, John, but we have no proof.
They're not going to do that on our say-so."
"But what if it didn't end with Project Delineate?" said Reyes.
She was sitting cross-legged on her desk like a schoolchild.
"What if someone overrode this general, whoever he was, and
started another one that he didn't know about?"
"I agree with Monica," Follmer said. "We should file a complete
report."
"Stop thinking like an A.D.," snapped Jeffrey. "This could sink
the Hybrid Protection Act, do you realise that?"
Follmer got up from his desk and stood over Jeffrey. This would
have been more intimidating if he hadn't bumped Jeffrey's chair
to do it. "A.D. Skinner said our job wasn't to debate the bill,
it was to handle the fallout. You're not supposed to let the
bill affect the decisions you make on the job."
"Look," said Krycek, "the situation has been handled. Maybe not
how we'd have handled it, but it's handled. Those genes would
have been a death sentence on the human race within a few
generations. It's better that they're out of the gene pool."
"Never mind about the Buchanans," retorted Mulder, standing by
Scully, in disgust.
Krycek turned on him. "I sympathise with the Buchanans. And
their children. But those people were doomed the moment they
signed up for Project Delineate."
"Oh, come on, Alex. Do you really think they had any idea what
they were getting into?" countered Reyes.
Diana got to her feet. "Agent Scully is right. We have no
proof. We can argue about it all we like, but the bottom line
is, there's nothing we can do. However frustrating it may be,
there is no decision to be made."
No one had an answer for that, and they sat there, looking at
each other uneasily in the morning light.
~x~
"She was right, you know."
Brad looked up from his drink. "You think so?"
Skinner nodded, motioning to the bartender for a top-up. "It
wouldn't have achieved anything. Especially with half the story
coming from the FBI's Killer Agent. I couldn't have defended it
even if it went anywhere. In this unit, sometimes you've just
got to cut your losses."
Brad frowned in what could have been taken for disagreement, but
he didn't argue the point. He said instead, "I'm worried about
Agent Spender."
Skinner drank a little. "How so?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I just think that if it comes to a
choice between the legislation and the case, he's going to choose
the legislation."
"I get the feeling that that's why Kersh wanted you two together
to begin with."
Brad turned to face him fully. "So I could keep him in line?"
he demanded.
Skinner could almost see him weighing it up in his head - the
indignity of babysitting Spender on one hand, and the inference
that he was a better agent in the other. He smirked. "Or so he
could do it to you. One of the two." That should fuck with his
mind a little, he thought. He was greatly amused.
He put his money on the bar, managed not to laugh at Brad's
outraged expression, and turned and walked away.
~x~
Diana was pouring Marita's best red wine.
"Well, we're doing well," she said firmly. "Two days in the
basement, and no one's come to blows."
Krycek made a noncommittal sound, but there was a smile on his
face. Marita came over and dropped down on the couch at his
side. He drew her into the crook of his arm.
"That's a start," said Jeffrey. "And if anyone's likely to kill
a colleague in the first week, it's me."
Krycek laughed. "Hey, Jeff, maybe we could hybridise old
Bradley. You'd like him then." Jeffrey mock-threw a cushion at
him before lowering it again.
"At least he's by the book," Diana consoled him. "You won't
have any trouble with him getting his reports in on time."
"Meanwhile," Krycek boasted, "I'm blessed with the most
beautiful, most patient partner a guy could ask for." Marita
narrowed her eyes in mock reproach. He cleared his throat,
amending, "Within the Bureau."
Diana laughed. "You're only saying that because I'm the only
one there who doesn't hate your guts."
Krycek shrugged. "Minor detail."
"I don't hate his guts," Jeffrey said mildly. "Anyone with such
good wine can't be all bad."
"Actually, it's my wine," said Marita, looking at her orange
juice in dismay. "And I can't have any. Why didn't we adopt?"
"I think it was that whole killer agent, bad publicity thing,"
Krycek said as an aside.
"Ah, yes," she said. "Let's not do that again."
Diana raised her glass. "To being a team."
Krycek did the same. "To keeping our weapons holstered."
Jeffrey chimed in, "To suffering fools gladly."
Marita clinked her glass with her husband's. "To the best damn
group of outcasts the Bureau's ever seen."
They drank in companionable silence.
~x~
Doggett sat on the visitor lounge in their office, looking at
the modular desks before him.
"What do you think?" Reyes wondered, looking at them from her
vantage point against the wall.
"I think I liked it better when it was just us down here."
She spared him a smile. "At least we still have the same spots
as before."
"True. I'll say this for Diana, she's pretty good at not
pissing people off."
"Except for Scully," she said, grinning.
Doggett said generously, "Nobody's perfect."
She paced a little. Looking around. "You know, John, before
the Work And Family policy came through - when we didn't really
know if the whole partners-dating thing was okay and we didn't
want to ask - I always kind of wanted to do it down here. The
thrill of the forbidden, that kind of thing."
He raised an eyebrow. "What are you telling me, Monica? You
want to fulfil a dream before the place is so overrun with people
that we wouldn't have room to do it even if we wanted to?"
She laughed. "No. I was just thinking - this is where we fell
in love. For a while, it was just ours."
"I don't know. I think I loved you even before that."
She turned to look at him. "Oh, John," she said. Clearly
touched. She dropped down on the lounge beside him and kissed
him, long and slow.
He stroked her arm. "You know," he murmured against her lips,
"it isn't too late..."
She shook her head, resting her forehead against his. "We have
somewhere else that's ours now." She smiled, and her smile was
infectious. "Will you take me home, John?"
So he did.
~x~
"Everything all right?"
Scully nodded. "It's just going to take him a while to get used
to the new surroundings." She took off her robe and draped it
over the chair. "But he went off to sleep okay."
Mulder moved over, making room for her in bed. She snuggled in
beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's good. I
was worried that he wouldn't be ours when we got him back, you
know?"
She nodded. "I think it's going to be okay, Mulder."
"Yeah."
They were silent for a while. He ran his hand through her hair,
twisting it idly between his fingers. He kissed her.
She waited. Presently, he spoke.
"I'm gonna quit, Scully. I've been thinking about this Buchanan
case today, and how everyone had a hand in it, and I just don't
think I fit any more."
Scully hesitated. Stroking his chest a little. Unsure whether
to try to talk him out of it. She would have, in the old days,
but back then it was all up to them. Now, though...if he wanted
to finally be free of it all, shouldn't she let it happen?
Wasn't it time?
A ghost of a memory drifted through her mind.
*If we quit now, they win.*
She didn't know if that was true any more. But it was the only
thing she had to go on.
She sighed. "Mulder, we couldn't have solved that case without
you. Sure, Doggett and Reyes and everyone worked out what
happened to that little girl, but you were the one who figured
out why. You were the one who saw the big picture and pulled out
the reason that made it all make sense."
He shook his head. "Krycek got exactly the same thing, Scully.
Hell, he even got more."
"But Krycek got it from his informants," she argued. "He got
lucky. He might not be lucky next time. But you, Mulder - you
got it from in here." She touched his forehead lightly with her
finger for emphasis. "There is no one else on the team who could
have done what you did. If you want to walk away, Mulder, you
know I'll support you, but I'm telling you, we need you."
Mulder frowned. Tugged her closer and sighed into her hair.
"I'll stay," he said at last. "For now."
Scully drew back to look at him. "Really?"
He didn't look so sure about it, but he nodded. "Yeah."
She stroked his cheek. "I love you, Mulder."
"Me too, Scully."
She leaned up and gently kissed his lips.
END
This pilot an advance release to celebrate the tenth anniversary
of the first airing of The X Files pilot (September 10, 1993).
There will be a brief hiatus, and then regular episodes will
commence in October. The first regular episode will be written
by Maidenjedi, followed by Humbuggie, Lara Means, and Eodrakken
Quicksilver. A more detailed schedule will be available soon at
the XFVCU site, http://xfvcu.deslea.com
Many thanks to the XFVCU first wave team, especially Maidenjedi
and Linzee. I couldn't have gotten us this far without you.