Chapter 3

It was high noon, but the sun wasn't able to penetrate through the dark rain clouds up above. The rain was coming down hard and that, along with the fact that Mulder didn't know exactly where he was going, didn't help matters any. They had crossed the Montana state line some hours ago, still in the same Ford, but with a switched-out license plate.

The going had been tough for a while. The morning after the bombing, police swarmed over the surrounding area. Mulder had a suspicion that they knew he had been behind the operation. The police had searched every hotel, motel, and inn for "persons of interest". Thankfully, he and Scully had managed to escape in the wee hours of the morning, switch plates, and evade the cop-enforced roadblocks.

They had been lucky, in other words.

Mulder glanced from the road to Scully, who had nodded off in the passenger seat. She had been awake for close to 26 hours, so a little catnap was not out of the question. Mulder himself felt like a little sleep would be a good idea too, so he turned into the parking lot of the first hotel he came to.

Once the car was parked, Mulder reached out a gently woke Scully.

"Dana? Dana, wake up."

Scully stirred. "Hmm? Oh. How long was I asleep? I could have driven."

Mulder laughed to himself. "We both need the rest. Come on, I've driven you to yet another five-star luxury palace of relaxation."

Scully looked out the car's window. "The Cloud 9 Inn. Wow, Mulder. You know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

"Well, we are on a tight budget, you know." Mulder got out of the car and entered the hotel's lobby. The Cloud 9 was a step up from the horror that had been the Budget Motel. At least the place wasn't covered in rat droppings.

The card-key to room 212 was handed over to Mulder, who had given his name as "Douglas Fredhold". With key in hand, Scully was collected from the car and together they headed up to the second floor of the building and made their way to their room.

The room was nice and clean, done in a country-western design. But Mulder and Scully weren't interested in the décor. All they cared about were the beds. As soon as their heads hit their pillows, they were both out like a light.

But Mulder's sleep, however, was far from restful.

He was no longer in the hotel room. He was in a cold place. Pain radiated from every square inch of his body. His eyes were shut. He didn't want to open them. He was afraid of what he might see. But curiosity eventually overcame everything else, and with a fair amount of trepidation, Mulder opened his eyes.

He was naked, pinned into some kind of chair carved from stone. Hooks were pulling his cheeks apart, and metal rods had skewered his wrists and ankles. The room he was in was dark, lit only by a few lights in the walls. No one else was in the room, but he had a feeling he was being watched.

And then came the screams.

They came from behind the thick walls, screams of unimaginable pain. Beneath the deafening cries, the whir of a machine could be heard. Mulder shut his eyes again. He didn't know how he knew, but the person screaming for their life in the next room was Billy Miles. It was obvious that Billy was being tortured. Mulder wanted to help, but there was nothing that could be done. He could barely move his hands. Running to someone's aide was totally out of the question.

A clicking noise sounded in front of Mulder and he opened his eyes once more. A long metal arm-like device with a buzz saw on the end had extended from the ceiling. It moved over Mulder's body and came to a stop over his chest.

The screams in the other room had stopped and been replaced with a quiet sobbing. Now it was his turn to experience what Billy had gone through. A few deep breaths and a couple of long, slow exhales, and Mulder braced himself for what was to come.

The saw started up, filling the room with that sinister whirring noise. The mechanical arm dipped lower and lower, each passing second bringing it closer to its target. And when it connected with the bare, soft flesh, it was unlike anything that Mulder had ever experienced before. He had told himself he wouldn't scream. He wasn't going to give them – the ones who were doing this to him – the satisfaction. But as the spinning blade sliced through skin and muscle, spraying everything nearby with blood, a shrill scream escaped Mulder's lips. The scream was involuntary. It was the pain. Such pain.

His cries went on and on and eventually the mindless shrieks became a word, a name, repeated over and over.

"Scully!!"

He had no idea he was shouting for his partner. Everything was a blur. There was nothing but the white-hot, all-consuming pain. But he continued to shout for her – the one person he trusted. Scully. Over and over.

Mulder awoke with a start. He was back in the hotel room. It had just been a nightmare. No. Not a nightmare, but memories of his abduction years ago. His abduction from Oregon, the torturous experiments onboard the spacecraft, and his eventual return. These thoughts came flooding back to him. He was returned in a state which mirrored death, and as such, he was buried alive. Three months later, Billy Miles, the man who had been abducted with Mulder had been found floating in the ocean off from North Carolina. Billy was also thought to be dead, but later revived. With this new knowledge, Mulder's coffin had been dug up and it was discovered that he too was alive.

Billy, while in the hospital, was transformed. Transformed into what was now

known to be a Super Solider. The same fate awaited Mulder, but through sheer luck, his own fortune was altered and he able to escape becoming what Billy Miles was.

It was ironic. After his sister's abduction from their home when he was just a boy, Mulder longed to be taken himself one day. And when that day came, the actual experience turned out to be very different than what he imagined. It was the most terrifying ordeal of his life. And he still dreamt about it often.

Shaking his head to bring himself fully awake, Mulder looked around the room. It was dark. The curtains had been drawn and the TV was on. Scully had seated herself at the foot of the other bed, attention focused on the television. The small digital clock on the nightstand read 11:10 pm. He had been asleep for nearly 12 hours.

"I feel …. like crap."

"Oh, you're finally awake." Scully muted the TV. "Mulder, you look terrible. Did you have a bad dream?"

Not wanting to trouble her, he shook his head. "I'm fine. What are you watching?"

It was the evening news and the main story was the bombing. No suspects had yet been officially named, but according to the news report, the police had a list of people whom they wanted to question.

The two of them watched in silence. Neither one spoke to the other, but they were thinking the exact same thing. The bombing had only been a pinprick. The date was coming fast. December 22nd, 2012 was the date planned for the end of the world. Mulder and Scully knew this and were doing their best to fight it, but what could they do? Bomb a few more buildings? Strom the nearest government compound? Whatever they did, it wouldn't be enough. They were thrashing around blind in a sealed room, hoping to kick the door open, but that door was shut and would remain that way. The machine had been set in motion and there was no way to turn it off.

"I'm going to the lobby," Mulder said at last. "Buy a map."

The trip to the lobby didn't take long at all. The new receptionist at the front desk was talking to a woman who was asking for a room and didn't see Mulder. That was fine with him. He made his way over to the stack of maps pilled up at the end of the desk when he froze. Something was strange. Something was off. What could it be? The lobby looked the same as it did when he first arrived. What was it?

The woman?

Yes. The woman talking to the receptionist. Her voice sounded familiar.

Mulder stood transfixed as he watched the woman receive her room key. She turned to go up the stairs behind her and saw him watching her. Mulder quickly glanced down at the floor. Did he know that woman? Had she followed him here to this hotel?

Mulder looked up. The woman had not moved. Her eyes were still trained on him. Where did he know her from? It was driving him crazy. Whoever it was, she was dressed smart. She wore a navy dress suit and her long, blonde hair was bulled back into a bun.

That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Marita?"

As soon as he whispered the name, the woman's mouth dropped open. She looked around her and ushered Mulder behind the magazine rack. "Agent Mulder? What are you doing here?!"

This was too much. The last time he had seen Marita was at his trial, ten years ago. Seeing her here, in a cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere was just too much of a coincidence. Something was up. But at the same time, it was good to see a familiar face. Marita had been an ally in the war against the Syndicate.

"What are you doing here?" Mulder questioned.

Marita shook her head, bewildered. "I received a call." She stopped and looked about once more. "Do you have a room? Can we talk there?"

Mulder nodded and led her upstairs. Once at the doorstep of his room, he knocked and the door was opened by Scully. Her eyes went from Mulder to Marita. "Mulder, what's going on? Is this-"

" Marita Covarrubias. She's a friend."

The two of them stepped out from the hallway and into the room. Scully latched it shut behind them. "What is this? What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Mulder said.

Marita frowned. "I had no idea you would be here. This is a shock." She swallowed. "As I said before, I received a phone call early yesterday morning. The caller told me my life was in danger and that I must come here. To this hotel."

"Who told you?" Scully asked. "Why this hotel?"

"I don't know."

Mulder sighed and flopped onto the bed. What was going on? A mysterious phone call? A life in danger? Someone was going on behind the scenes. Just then, a thought occurred to him. Marita's mystery caller might very well be the same person that provided him with the location of the alien colonization center. "This person who called you, what did they sound like?"

"I didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like an elderly woman."

An elderly woman? That was news. Mulder had always assumed the person who had given him the location information was part of the Syndicate. The same could be said for Marita's caller. Most of Mulder's informants in the past had been involved in the government/alien conspiracy somehow. Deep Throat had been an ex-CIA operative with firsthand knowledge of alien life on Earth. X was a high-ranking member of the Men In Black, a governmental task force whose sole purpose was to cover up proof of alien life. And Marita herself had been under direct orders from the actual Syndicate. So it was logical to assume that this mystery woman also had ties to the conspiracy.

"Why would your life be in danger?" Scully asked.

"I can't say for certain. My ties with the conspiracy were severed after the death of the Smoking Man. I have no idea why they would want me killed now."

Mulder stroked his chin. It was coarse from days-old stubble. "Maybe they thought you were the one who had provided us information about the Montana complex."

Marita shook her head. "But they should have known I couldn't have. I couldn't risk…" She stopped abruptly in mid-sentence. Her eyes went to the floor. "Well, you understand."

"I don't think they really cared if you were the actual informant," Mulder said. "The bombing was just an excuse to put you out of the picture. They're cleaning house. Making sure things are nice and neat before the end."

Those last words cast a somber mood over the three of them. For the next few minutes, they chatted some more, trying to make sense out of things. When it became evident that no new information was going to be unearthed, Marita left, but not before giving out her room number to both Mulder and Scully.

The question that bugged Mulder the most was how did Marita end up at the Cloud 9? It had to be more than a coincidence. Her mystery caller – the old woman – had instructed her to come. Had it been her plan that she meet up with Mulder and Scully? No. It couldn't be. Mulder himself, after leaving Montana, only had the destination of Ellston in mind. He had no idea that he would be staying at the Cloud 9 Inn. It just happened to be the first hotel they came to.

Another unanswered question.