Bethesda, MD
In a dimly lit room, within the walls of an old forgotten brick building are fourteen high tech stations of advanced surveillance equipment. The computers hum, the lights on the towers flicker and multiple monitors illuminate their operators in an eerie glow. Each screen switches between security images, their grainy impressions resemble sepia tinted photos, not of days gone by but of days still to come in a world devoid of privacy. The presence of these men and their tools of invasion are known by few. These few no longer question violating the sanctity of decency and destroying lives in the name of the greater good.
Ask the nameless NSA Agent, who sits in this windowless room if spying on those who seek truths about government programs is amoral. He will say, "Morality is subjective, who are you to ask the question?" Ask his colleague if following orders from one of the highest ranking elected officials in our government, justifies what they do. He will say, "These men and women have an agenda you will never fully understand, rules do not apply and justification is a luxury we cannot afford."
What else do they know? They know their free will is mislaid, their lives are expendable and it's better to be on the side with the shiniest toys and the biggest guns.
The door opens and a man walks in. He takes his coat off and hangs it on the back of his chair. As he sits down, he puts an earpiece in.
"What's up?" He asks his colleague.
His colleague smirks. "The same old thing. Knowing more then they know about themselves."
"Anything new I should know?" The man adjusts his monitor, taps on his keyboard watching the images flash by.
"Well I know one thing. Doggett would face down a battalion of Shadow Men, but he still won't go there." His colleague steeples his fingers and looks over them. He nods towards an image of Agent Reyes moving about her apartment. "They still surprise me."
"It's because they're nothing like Mulder and Scully." The man shakes his head. "Mulder's obsession was like a terminal illness. He's also a selfish son of a bitch. The quest he was on became more important then the people involved. I've lost count on how many times they should've--"
"Yeah, Doggett knows what he was… is missing, a wife and a kid, basically a life. Mulder was screwed up from the very beginning. When you can't trust mom and dad, you spend your life punishing everyone for it." His colleague leans back in his chair. "And, Scully? What's your best guess Dr. Phil?"
He scoffs at the reference. "For as much balls as that woman has displayed, for as brilliant as she is, she wouldn't go there. Fear. It's powerful." He shrugs. "It took an obsession of her own, that internal tick tock for her to seduce Mulder. Now she's practically broken. It's ironic, nothing could keep them apart, but it took seven long years before they'd become lovers. Seven years of misery, sacrifice and death. Scully giving up her son and Mulder on the lam." He adjusts the contrast on his monitor.
"You don't think they have their own obsessive reasons?" His colleague nods toward the monitor that shows Doggett's living room.
"Yeah, they probably do, but like I said, they're not Mulder and Scully. With these two, I give it six months, another handful of close calls and they'll totally cave." He looks up toward the monitor and smiles. "Reyes' always gets her man."
"Have you ever asked yourself why we're still here? Is it worth the cost?"
"I used to ask those kinds of questions, I don't want to know anymore. You want to end up missing or dead?"
His colleague plays with his pencil. "Why keep them alive?"
The man continues to tap on his keyboard. "Doggett's proven himself easy to use on more than one occasion. As goofy as she comes off, Reyes is the one who sees the big picture, not just the bait. I don't know, maybe he'll get his ass out of head."
"All I know is we're watching countless pawns in this game. The important thing is knowing who to trust."
"Yeah, like us, right?" His colleague chuckles.