Disclaimer: Same as with Chapter I, etc.

Chapter IV

Washington DC

1440- July 18, 2030

Assistant Director John Doggett took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. All day from about seven to noon, and from about twelve thirty to now he had been examining the records of the agents that the other units in the FBI felt were best suited to the X-files. Rather, they were the agents that ran the gamut from dangerously over-confident to downright stupid. Most of the names he recognized from his days at Quantico, and none of them even came close to the requirements he had sent down: relatively young, some field experience, preferably been shot at before, good at either lone wolf or small-scale, tight-budget investigations with one other agent, and smarter then your average bear.

At the moment, he had been given the files of thirty agents, none of whom fit the bill for what he was looking for. Rather, they weren't what he was looking for in the investigative side of the house. Doggett had been fortunate that his next door neighbor was the lady in charge of the FBI's crime lab, and she had recommended someone who was not only one of her top forensics experts, but also had several years experience in Violent Crimes and Counter-Intelligence before her transfer to the Crime Lab. The problem Doggett had been running into was in getting the kind of agent he needed from the non-technical aspect of things. So far, the agents offered included four with money problems, three he knew were downright stupid, and one currently under investigation for being a closet fag. Also, about half were also on the black list Skinner had showed him of FBI agents who were suspected to have had illegal dealings with Russian Organized Crime and were under confidential investigation by the Justice Department's internal affairs unit.

John wasn't amused as he set the last file aside into the reject pile. Right now, he was tired, and wondering whether or not this was a cause in which he would have to go over people's heads for. It wasn't that he minded confrontation, it was just that he knew that the job he had right now was temporary, and he didn't want to destroy years of trust and rapport unless he absolutely had to. Judging by the material he was being offered, it was starting to appear as though he would have to pull rank and do just that…

Sighing, he started going through the piles again, separating the bad from the worse from the totally useless. Doggett was about three files through when his secretary Marge Dunn rang his office via the intercom. "Sir, a Special Agent Cardigan is requesting a moment of your time. She doesn't have an appointment should I…" John cut her off, "Send her in." Pushing the papers aside, leaned back into his chair and threw his feet up on the desk as a tall, blonde in her early fifties entered the office. She took a seat and asked, "How's Monica and the kids, John?"

"Walter's in the Marines, Beth's finishing up her BS of Anatomy at Georgetown, and is looking into Med School. Monica writes and is helping Walter's fiancé plan their wedding." John pointed at his silvering hair, "I, on the other hand, am going white-haired and I've had this job only a couple weeks, Helen."

Special Agent Helen Cardigan laughed. John Doggett and his wife had, before he retired out of the Charlotte office, taken the newly minted FBI agent under their wing and taught her a lot. She still sent Christmas cards, and birthday presents to his kids. Helen looked up to him as a mentor, and had been delighted to hear that he was back on active duty.

She took a look around the office, and slouched comfortably into the chair. "The office becomes you, John. Congratulations." Doggett snorted, "Congrats for getting a job that has me working fourteen hour days, and keeping me away from spending time with a wife, son, daughter, and future daughter-in-law."

John looked over at his former pupil, and said, "Hey, I only heard the other day that it was your section that cracked the Blevin's case. Congrats." Now it was Helen's turn to snort. "Yeah, it was cracked only because myself, Tom Marlboro, and Director Burnes threw out every rule on undercover operations the Bureau has in place, and risked everything on a long shot that turned up a web of corruption running through all levels of the Bureau. I'm surprised Congress hasn't tried to shut the whole Bureau down."

Doggett shrugged, "I never said the right thing was the easy thing. Besides, there have been other scandals, other black eyes which the Bureau has had to put up with over the years, and we're still here, and so will you."

Helen looked up, "No I won't. Myself, Marlboro, and a sizeable number of the older crowd within Criminal Justice are going to be retired this year. Didn't Kranze tell you?" John looked up, somewhat in shock that the Bureau would do something like that, but not really surprised. Like all government agencies, there had been a fuck-up, and heads would roll in the purges to follow. If the Director had been fired the way he did, then it only made sense that those subordinates that were either involved or close to the previous establishment would be given the shaft too.

John shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that. You want to pull a few strings and…" Helen shook her head, "No, it was getting time for me to go anyways. Same with Tom, though there is one thing I would like you to do, a big favor…" John held up his hands and shrugged, "You name it, and you got it."

Helen nodded, "Okay, you know we broke the whole Blevin's thing when we tracked some unusual account transfers from him to Moscow right?" Doggett nodded, Earl Blevins had been the legal attaché in Moscow for a long time, and during his tenure in this office a number of the FBI's own had either been found dead or just plain vanished. After two failed attempts by the Inspector General's office at seeing if he was rotten or not, Director Burns and Cardigan had taken some very drastic action in an attempt to break the case.

"Yeah, you infiltrated one of our own into the Russian mob over a period of nine months. I read the IG's report on just how many regs were broken, and I must say was impressed, particularly the bit about the plastic shredder." Helen grimaced, "We told him to do whatever it took to find out what happened to George Ivanov, and to follow whatever leads from there."

"To include dusting a couple of Russian undercovers, and at least three civilians I take it? I don't think our allies over there were too pleased about that."

Helen shook her head, "No they weren't. You know what they plan on doing to him?" John nodded, "A promotion, and probably a long period in some remote field office to get him readjusted to civilization. Hell, maybe they'll send him to see Pistone." He was referring to the legendary FBI agent who had done similar in the eighties with the Italian mafia in New York, and currently did counseling for FBI agents who had undergone the same as him.

"No, they're getting ready to fire him."

Doggett looked shocked, as it would have been the equivalent of a guy bringing in Jack the Ripper and being punished for it. Helen explained, "He came back about a month ago, and has been in debriefing here and in Moscow for about three of those weeks. When he was released to his apartment in Alexandria on leave, he promptly went to a pub downtown and caused a brawl that wound up sending five civilians and a DCPD cop to the hospital. It was fortunate that I have a few favors over there, because it took all I had to keep it quiet."

Doggett interrupted, "He going up before the Discipline Board soon?"

Helen nodded, "Next week, but I don't want him going before it since the current atmosphere will mean he will have everything but the kitchen sink thrown at him." She got up and started pacing, and started to explain, "John, I know you've been ordered to reopen the old Spooky files, and I also know that no one in their right mind will want to send anybody with an iota of intelligence or skill to be part of it…" Doggett bristled at that, but before he could reply Helen continued, "You know I'm right John, so don't argue, just listen. This man went through some pretty sick shit for us, and I'll readily admit he screwed himself over on this big time. I think the Bureau owes him at least one more chance based on what he's done for us."

Doggett leaned forward, put his head into his hands, and sighed. Helen must have thought he was debating just how to say no for she kept on. "John, you need a relatively capable man with field experience, and knowing you someone who has been shot at before. Take this kid, John. He's been with the Bureau almost seven years after his discharge from the Marine Corps, and he's done some pretty amazing work for us before. You know, he was selected for that advanced program we were experimenting with at Quantico a few years back. Do you remember it?"

He looked up, as his memory recalled the program in which promising trainees at the Academy were sent to work as part of their training in a special capacity with several field units, along with another trainee as a partner to see if being partners with someone over a long time would produce a better quality of agent. "Where was he assigned?"

"He was in VCS, and broke the Atlanta strangler case, him and that other trainee he was partnered with. You remember him, surely?" Doggett had had many trainees, but this one sounded familiar. Grudgingly, he nodded, "Not much, but I'll take your word on it. You got a number so I can call him in tomorrow? To let him know that he'll be spending some quality time in the basement?" Helen smiled, and gave him a piece of paper. She got up to leave, and said, "Thanks John."

Doggett smiled, "No, thank you." At least now he had a chance to maybe, just maybe, make it home on time with the worst business taken care of.