DREAMLAND WASHINGTON

DREAMLAND WASHINGTON!

FALLING

They say that you either grow into a job or the job takes a hold of you and spits you out. I am trapped within the walls of the FBI the corridors are endless. Am I the only goddamn Agent to feel this way? Where the hell is everybody? Superiors are never there, it's like I've been sucked into a parallel dimension and was waiting for everyone else to catch up. The feeling reminded me of the movie Langoliers. I'm waiting for everyone to catch up with me.

"Hello." I called out. My voice passed through the J. Edgar Hoover building and found nobody, "Krycek!" I called out. But it was useless I know, my first friend was dead. A man approached out of nowhere. Was that even possible?

"Agent Taylor." Krycek said, "This place consumes everybody. It's swallowing you whole. Don't let it Agent Taylor."

As quick as he appeared, he vanished, leaving me once again all alone, "Hey!" I called.

I walked aimlessly around, not watching where I was going and before I knew it, I walked into the X-File office. Dana was sitting behind the desk and nursing William while Mulder looked protectively over her.

Dana looked up, "Your actions have alienated you." She said.

There was a bright white flash and I found myself out of the building surrounded by light. A lonely old man walked past me and into the darkness. I watched him in horror as I realized he was me. As soon as I realized that I was back in the FBI building. I could hear someone typing on a computer. So I tried to find it, but the typing echoed and didn't seem to come from any direction at all.

I woke up with a start as someone shook my right shoulder; I looked up and realized that I had fallen asleep at the Cantina. I could investigate any agent with relative ease by now. But delving into the late night goings-on by your immediate superior was taken a toll. Of course cat naps here and there helped. My cup of tea had gone cold and so had my chips. Judging by the influx of Agents, it was almost lunchtime. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a plain clothes person sitting at the table beside me typing away on a laptop. There was nothing else to do but laugh, of course everybody knows that external noises can affect a dream. I walked up to him, but couldn't see his face since it was hidden behind the laptop.

"Do I know you?" I asked.

"Probably." The man answered, "Might, might not."

"Look." I said.

When I saw a couple of agents look at me, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. Yeah, nobody likes an Internal Affairs guy. That's the reason why this guy is being so evasive. But this really bugs me is that nobody treats me like a damn real Agent anymore. I'm an outsider.

Yeah, I bet you want an update on things am I right? Am I right? Agent Mulder is now in hiding for reasons I fail to fathom, Dana Scully is at home playing mom and Agent Doggett had appointed an Agent Monica Reyes as his X-File partner. I guess if your superior is currently under Deputy Director Kersh is currently being investigated by Internal Affairs while Agent Doggett is being warned not to investigate him. While, John is being watched by Kersh and any others, I'm almost able to conduct myself under the radar and unnoticed. But Kersh isn't a stupid guy by a long shot. And I've been unable to detect any connection between him and the agents that disappeared during that night in the car-park. For the whole charade to have to work, Agent Doggett will have to believe he's running a proper investigation, when all it is, is a façade. If I think the FBI had it's own way, Rohrer and Agent Crane would be erased from existence. But these blasted conspirators are damn quick and I had to be quicker.

The problem is that when I try and think a couple of steps ahead of my opponents they decide to change the game on me. Stress is a major hassle with this kind of work, even more so when you're trying to take down a superior. People say that when you're working on such a taxing case, that you need to make sure you catch up on some sleep. But they never said anything about sleeping in the cafeteria.

Basically, the investigation started virtually a couple of days after AD Skinner told me that my night was over. The night I learnt what it took to be a real FBI agent. Running from danger, protecting people and pointing your weapon at someone so if that's not being an Agent, then I don't know what is. Of course almost everything that happened that night was recorded on the Surveillance camera and was just able to get a copy of the video and placed the copies into the cameras just before they grabbed the copies and gave Agent Doggett the wrong tapes. Now, if this ever comes to question, I know that they don't know that I have the original tapes in my possession and are always kept well hidden from anybody.

However, the stress was taking a physical toll and I often ended up having to pop strong panadol to dull down pounding headaches. I was called into AD Skinner's office for a sort of progress report. The kind of report that wasn't official if you catch my meaning. It didn't matter how much painkiller I swallowed, this migraine was getting worse and worse. AD Skinner told me to take a seat when I entered his office.

"How's the case going?" AD Skinner asked me.

"I have some damning evidence." I answered, "I have the tapes that were from the night." I only had to refer to that night as THE NIGHT. Anybody that was there would know what I was referring to.

"Agent Doggett has tapes to." AD Skinner said, "But they showed nothing."

"As you know Agent Doggett was given doctored tapes." I replied, "And those umm, conspirators have a copy. While I, get this, I have the original."

"But how?" AD Skinner asked.

But before I could answer, something had caught the corner of my eye. I turned around and saw someone sitting on the couch with their feet up typing away on the laptop. I was under the assumption that AD Skinner and I were the only ones in the office, "Excuse me." I said, "But who are you?"

The man with the laptop looked up as if he was suddenly caught out, "Don't worry about me." He said, "Just ignore me."

"Agent Taylor." AD Skinner said, "Agent Taylor." I turned to face him, "How did you get the tape?"

"Instead of going home that night, I went straight after the car park footage." I said, "I assumed that there'll be an investigation and I assumed that they'll go right after the tapes."

AD Skinner smiled, "So you have enough evidence?" He asked.

"No." I answered, "I want to find evidence of that Kersh and Roro-Roarer, Rohore." I still couldn't seem to get my mouth around that stupid sounding name.

"Rohrer." AD Skinner corrected me.

I went to leave the office and I looked at the guy at the couch, "You were at the canteen right?" I asked.

"Later, we're going to have a talk, you and me." The man said without looking up.

"I heard things can get weird when you're stressful Agent Taylor." AD Skinner said to me, "Are you sure you're doing ok?" He asked.

That felt like a strange question, "I'm good." I answered. Well it sounded convincing because it was true. I did feel good. But have you ever had one of those times that you feel that something is just not right? I think I was having one of those days.