"A cop I know, a man I respect deeply, told me one time, 'You don't clock out at the end of your shift unless you know you did everything you could.' That's what this is about - me not clockin' out." - Agent Doggett, in "Underneath"
"Well I got another lesson
for ya, huh? Keep after this thing, it's gonna bite you in ya ass."
- Duke Thomasek, in "Underneath"
* * *
"You didn't tell them?"
"No." I tried to focus on John's question, while at the same time trying to calm William down. Sitting in an airport for three hours does nothing for an already squirming baby's temperament.
John reached for the baby, placing William on his lap. He settled down immediately and I held back a smile. "Monica," his voice was low, "how could you not tell Mulder and Scully what happened?"
"William's fine," I argued, staring John down. "There was no reason to tell them, they'd just worry."
Shaking his head, John growled softly, "They have a reason to worry. Their kid was shot at. I think, as their friends, we owe it to them to tell them the truth."
I smiled reassuringly. "We will, once we get to Italy. There's no way to contact them now, anyway." John cocked his head silently and I followed his gaze to the bank of computer terminals. "It's not safe," I frowned. "I can't work Jimmy Bond's magic on a public computer, I'm not *him*."
"Fine," John agreed reluctantly, but I could tell it was still bothering him.
I reached over William's head, rubbing John's arm gently. "I promise, I'll tell them everything when we get there."
"That's not it." John sighed in obvious frustration.
"What is it, then?" I asked, concerned.
John shook his head quickly. "I don't know, I jus' don't like this. There's a piece missing. I knew it back in Ciudad Juarez, I jus' can't figure out where or what it is."
I nodded, understanding completely. "I've felt the same way. But, John, we've done everything right, covered our tracks, even planted fake clues to throw anybody who's looking for us off our scent. What else can we do?"
"I don't know." It seemed the hardest part of all this, for him, was not knowing. John's instinct was for 'meat and potatoes police work' as he'd described it once to me. I think all the intrigue and double-crossing was starting to take its toll. John liked to stand and fight, not run with his head covered. That was one of the reasons I had fallen in love with him.
Unable to respond in any way that mattered, I decided to play devil's advocate. "Okay, let's assume you're right," I began. "There's something we're overlooking, and we've been missing this thing, whatever it is, since we got to Mexico. How do we find it now?"
John thought a moment, as he handed William his keys to keep the infant happy. "It's something out of place, some little detail we explained away but it ain't the right explanation."
*Something we explained away...* I stood and stretched languidly, twisting first to the left, then to the right. I used the time to take a long, surveying look around the airport terminal. We were essentially alone, a few other passengers scattered around - no one suspicious, just average, ordinary Mexican citizens. A few feet away sat a mother with her four-year-old, reading 'Goodnight, Moon' in Spanish. Further back in the waiting area there were a few people traveling alone, reading newspapers or magazines. My eyes scanned each face carefully, searching for the elusive clue that was troubling John so much.
"I'm sorry," I said softly as I sat back down. "I just don't know where we could've overlooked anything. We planned all this so carefully - from Ciudad Juarez all the way to Brindisi. The only snag was being found out in Juarez, but we even accommodated that."
John was silent for a long moment, staring off into space.
"John?" I said, finally. "Earth to John. What is it?"
"They found us."
I nodded slowly, not understanding where he was going with this train of conversation. "Yeah, they found us in Ciudad Juarez."
"Who?" A very good question, one for which I had no answer. "It can't be the cigarette guy, he's dead." John scratched his head, and I could almost hear the wheels spinning. I decided not to interrupt, letting him brainstorm. "An' it's not that Krycek fella. He's sposta be dead, but even if he wasn't, he doesn't have the connections to track us down out in the middle a' nowhere like we were." *Then who?* I thought, playing hide-the-keys with William as John continued to think aloud. "It's not Jeff Spender or that blonde from the UN, 'cause they were tryin' to help Mulder at his trial," he said. "There's someone else. There's *gotta* be someone else," John nodded vigorously. "Jus' don't know who."
"John," I began slowly, "what about Kersch?"
There was a pause as John digested my suggestion. "He helped Mulder escape," he argued, but I could tell the thought was taking root. "But we still don't know why he had such a sudden change a' heart."
"Seems kind of odd that after fighting the four of us for so long, Kersch decided to risk his career, not to mention his life, just to help us," I confirmed. An idea began to dawn, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. "What if Kersch helped Mulder escape because he's got something Kersch wants?"
John tossed the idea around in his head. "Like what?" he asked after a moment. "Like an X-File or somethin'? They took all of 'em."
"Like information. What if Mulder *did* find something at the government facility in New Mexico, something he's hiding from us?"
John's frustrated expression deepened. "Why would he hide it from us? We're on his team."
"Maybe he didn't think we needed to know, or he's just scared. Either way, it doesn't matter. Maybe that's why Kersch helped him escape. Maybe he was *ordered* to let Mulder get away," I offered in a furious whisper, "so he could lead Kersch and his higher-ups to whatever it is they want."
"But if it's information they want, then why didn't they just torture it outta him while they had 'im in custody?" John asked.
"Maybe they tried and failed, or maybe they think it's a physical entity they're after, like a disk." I sighed softly. "I don't know, I'm just throwing out ideas."
Backtracking, John said, "Okay, let's assume we're right so far. They tracked us to Ciudad Juarez - why didn't they come after us right then? Kersch's got the resources of the entire FBI. They coulda got us, easy."
"I don't think they had what they wanted yet," I surmised. "They had to wait and see if Mulder would lead them to it."
"Good thinkin'. So what, they were watchin' us in Juarez?"
"It makes sense. How else could they get a bulletin on the local news with Mulder's picture, yet not be able to find the four of us in the middle of a tiny Mexican village?" I was beginning to get the entire picture now. "If they've been watching us this whole time, you think they knew Mulder and Scully didn't get on that flight to Switzerland?"
"No. They might've had us surveilled, but you and Jimmy were real careful. I don't know why they let 'em go, but they did." John looked more confused than ever.
My mind was stumbling around the facts as we'd re-established them. So we hadn't been as tricky or as safe as we'd thought. In fact, if John and I were right about this, we'd been playing right into their hands the entire time.
"They let Mulder and Scully go to Switzerland," I mused softly. "And they had to know where we were headed." I felt all the blood drain out of my face as another realization hit me. "John," I said, meeting his eyes warily, "they knew it was me."
"Huh?"
"In Hermosillo. Whoever hired those cops knew it was me they would shoot, not Scully." My hands were trembling with the idea of being a walking target.
"Holy shit." John's face lost its color as the reality of our situation sunk in.
I was the first to recover enough to speak. "I just don't understand why they'd shoot me and not kill us both." I couldn't believe I was saying those words. "I thought you were right, that they were trying to get Mulder to..." I trailed off, the little light bulb going on above my head. "That's it!" I exclaimed quietly. "They've been trying to get Mulder to come out in the open the entire time."
John caught on quickly and voiced his agreement. "If they had killed us back there, Mulder and Scully wouldn't have heard for weeks. But they weren't aimin' at *you*, Mon."
I finished his thought for him. "They were aiming for William. I must've shifted him out of range at the last minute. What a miracle." I shook my head, staring at the innocent child in John's arms. I thought about how a few inches might've meant a world of difference.
"They figured if he got hurt or killed, we'd have to contact Mulder and Scully, and they'd come runnin' back. Guess we're lucky the cops didn't stick around to see if they'd done their job." In an uncharacteristic display, John cupped my cheek with his hand, offering me a tentative smile.
I smiled back, my heart racing at his gentle caress. My brain quickly shifted back to the situation at hand. "Okay, so it's probably Kersch, they've been following us from a distance since we left New Mexico and they're watching us now." I tamped down my fear in favor of a solution to the problem. "So they probably know where we're going, and now we've led them to Mulder and Scully." I wanted to scream in frustration. "John, we're screwed. How the hell are we going to dodge this one?"
Shaking his head slightly, John looked at me. "Is there *any* way to contact Jimmy? Maybe he can figure out a way to get us to Italy under the radar."
I thought quickly. "Maybe I can try calling," I offered lamely. "They can't trace a call that doesn't connect, and Jimmy won't let it connect if he can't disguise the origin." John looked thoroughly confused and I smiled reassuringly. "I'll just get the calling card." I grabbed our carry-on and dug out the yellow plastic sleeve labeled 'Ladatel', heading over to the phone. I dailed the familiar number, listening to it ring - once, twice, three times. I prayed Jimmy could cover our asses yet again. He'd been great so far - getting us fake papers, arranging flights and even helping us find a safehouse in Brindisi.
"Hey." Jimmy's voice sounded odd, and I was immediately concerned.
"Jimmy," I said softly, "it's Monica. Is everything okay?"
"Yup," he replied shortly.
"Listen, we've had another change of plans. I can't explain everything right now, but John and I are worried we might --"
"Miss your flight?" Jimmy filled in quickly. Before I could answer, he rushed on. "Well, there are three flights a day to Geneva, we'll get you on another one."
"Jimmy --" I tried to correct him.
His voice was sweet and casual as he cut me off. "It's okay, Agent Reyes. I don't mind the extra trouble, really."
Something was prickling at the back of my mind. The whole tone of the conversation was off-key for Jimmy; he wasn't usually so conversational, and he hadn't called me Agent Reyes since the day we'd met. Suddenly, it clicked in my head. *FUCK.* I tried to keep my voice level when I replied, "Listen, Jimmy, I really appreciate your help. With everything that's happened, I really think we need to get William back to his parents and I can't do it without you." I hoped he could hear through the chatter to my coded plea. I knew if anyone could, it was Jimmy Bond.
"I understand." He paused for a second, as if listening to someone. "But I gotta get going now. Yves is making dinner, and it oughta be a crime to miss her Italian night."
"Okay, Jimmy, enjoy your dinner. E-mail me later about that flight," I added for whoever was listening. Hanging up, I darted back to John and William. "We have to get out of here, now!"
"Monica, what'd Jimmy say?" John's face was drawn and harried.
I grabbed the bag and slung it over my shoulder, whispering to John as I tugged at his arm. "The entire plan's been compromised. Someone set a trap for Mulder and Scully and we let them walk right into it."
THE END
