The Next Files
Part 3
********* A Cool November Night *********
It was November, and the air was a little crisp. Odd isn't it...that in a place that could get so hot during the day...could also make one feel the need for a sweater at night.
Mulder recalled the birthday present Scully had given him last month (the sweater with the image of an alien wearing a Santa Claus cap). He could sure use that sweater right now to dampen the sharp bite of the cool desert air. And thinking of Scully, he remembered the little story she had added as a side to presenting him the gift.
"Mulder," she had said, "did you know that "Santa Claus" was the code term that the lunar astronauts used to notify NASA about alien encounters on the moon?"
Of course he knew. There wasn't much in alien lore that Fox wasn't aware of. There was a ton of information out there. The thing was, having the ability to separate the crazy stories from the believable ones. Still, with Scully's added tidbit he didn't feel the need to tell her that he already knew about the Santa-Nasa connection. He pretended mock surprise.
"Santa Claus(?),...that's a new one."
Anyway, here he was, in Roswell. Through secret channels "Jack Booth" and he had been in communication (the man seemed to have little spies all over the place. Agent Mulder had been approached a few times by this detail of personnel Booth seemed to be in alliance with). This gave the "mysterious gentleman" more clout than first considered during their initial contact.
They had set up a meeting here in Roswell. The idea was to get together to exchange info. Booth had communicated that he might have some answers, and he had also arranged a place for Mulder to stay. Since it was a Friday night, beginning of the weekend, Fox felt that he could make the excursion safely, without a tag-along.
(Mulder had been shadowed in the past, he and Scully both had. Whenever there was the sense that he was getting close to something...Mulder always felt that he had drawn an escort. Those blank faces, the secret government, had always had a fear of him. They had placed tags on him during prior engagements, like he didn't know. Still, maybe they had wanted him to know that he was being followed?)
Anyway, over time it seemed that the Bureau had become bored with his fact finding trips. He never returned with anything that couldn't be dismissed or explained away. They began to take the route that it was a waste of taxpayer dollars. Why put a tail on him?
At Roswell International, Mulder looked around. He felt that he had arrived unconnected. However, the more consequential the information he may gain the further increase in danger. He felt the need to be cautious. He had come alone, but he also had given Scully a means of notification should he have any trouble. No harm in being safe.
Mulder was dropped off at a prearranged rendezvous point, a part of town where the meeting would take place. He had traveled lightly, being that he would only be here a day or two, and was told that a hotel room would be provided afterwards.
He attempted to pay the taxi driver but the man said the fare had already been paid. The driver then scuttled away leaving Mulder in solitude in front of a lonely, old, two story brick building. There were windows on the second floor but they all seemed to have been blackened out. And, the only illumination came from a dull streetlight on the corner, some forty feet away. The place resembled the form of an early, twentieth century speak-easy more than anything else. Mulder looked up to the top on the building. There, someone could easily drop a brick down upon his head (ending his pursuit for the truth), but why? Why would anyone do that?
Mulder looked around...no one within sight. Sometimes he allowed himself to flesh out paranoid scenarios when there was really nothing to be paranoid about, right? Still, at a young age watching your sister being floated away by unknown entities might do that to a person. None the less he mouthed a whisper.
"Scully where are you when I need someone to tell me that I'm being stupid."
Just at that moment Mulder felt someone take a firm grip of his left arm, and then there was someone gripping his right. They gripped him tightly. These guys had come out of nowhere. He was being controlled, escorted, moved forward, rapidly and rather boldly. He turned his head just enough to see two fellows dressed in black, one on either side. Dark glasses, dark hats, dark suits and ties...yeah, the picture was obvious.
Mulder was startled, but he did manage to speak.
"I wasn't aware there was a "Blues Brothers" convention in town this weekend?"
Sure it was sarcasm, but someone had to lighten up the mood. Mulder felt a cloth being placed over his nose and mouth and then things went dark.
************* Really? *************
When FBI Agent Mulder awoke (after being forced into unconsciousness) he found himself in a room that could have been an executive boardroom. It was fair-sized with all of the walls being solid brick. There was a rather large mahogany table in the middle. His eyes had to adjust to the lighting with the only light source in the room being a bright lamp focused on the center of the table. He was sitting in a chair at one end of the table. He was not strapped down; however, he could feel the presents of someone behind him. On either side of the long table there were a couple of fellows dressed in gray suits, they also wore dark sunglasses. On the far end he could see that there was someone sitting, however the person's face was obscured in shadow.
As Mulder's eyes began to focus he could make out a few features about the man sitting across from him, it resembled Booth.
"Hello Mr. Hale thanks for coming," this individual said.
"Well, if I'd known that I was going to receive such a warm reception I'd have brought a gun with me."
"Smart ass, but I like guys who find themselves in situations like this and can still make jest of it."
"What kind is that," Fox asked?
The man leaned forward, it wasn't Booth.
"...The kind that can still make jokes when they don't know what is going on."
With this the room exploded in Laughter. All of the guys around the table removed their glasses and Mulder could see that they were young fellows, the oldest not more than twenty-five. Yeah, they were young, all but the man sitting across from him. He was an older guy like Booth.
"Sorry if we scared you George. However, we've been tasked with proving that you hadn't been followed."
So, this had all been a joke...really? Was Booth in on it too? Mulder's face turned beet red. Was he angry (?), of course, but what could he do about it now? At least he hadn't paid for anything. His plane fare, taxi, and room and board had all been funded by Jack. All it had cost him was his time.
"So, what now...?"
The older man looked at him a little miffed.
"You're free to go. There's a taxi waiting for you outside. He'll take you to your hotel."
Something weird was going on. However Mulder didn't want to think about it too hard. He was tired, and after a long day at work and a lingering plane flight he was ready to just get some sleep.
The room emptied and Fox collected his things. What were the guys going to do for fun next, go down to the park and feel firecrackers to the pigeons?
Fox had to loosen his collar to let out a little steam. Had this been some kind of departmental bullshit? Guys at the Bureau getting back at him for sometimes making them look stupid? He'd like to have some answers.
Once outside he found a cab waiting for him. He climbed in.
"Where to...," he heard the driver request?
"Fairfield Inn," Mulder answered.
The man turned around in his seat. HOLY CRAP IT WAS BOOTH...
"Wouldn't you rather stay the night in a nice flying saucer," he asked?
END CHAPTER 3
