CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Better ask questions before you shoot, deceit and betrayals bitter fruit. It's hard to swallow come time to pay, that taste on your tongue don't easily slip away."--Bruce Springsteen, "Lonesome Day"
Mulder and I went over the plans for the millionth time, knowing we'd have to do it again when we met up with the Gunmen and Skinner. Skinner had arranged another van of Agents as back-up, under the premise of a possible drug sting. Time was winding down, and we were having some coffee to refresh ourselves. I'd sent him on a Starbucks run, and was enjoying a caramel machiatto, which would keep me awake for hours.
The informant was scheduled to call us at four o'clock in the afternoon, and like clockwork, the phone rang. Mulder picked it up, and I sat by, anxiously awaiting the password to the computer mainframe. Instead of seeing Mulder write anything down, however, I only witnessed a one-sided conversation consisting of "uh-huh," "yes," "okay, fine," "thanks," and "I understand." When he hung up, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
"Well?" I asked.
"He said that he can't give me anything over the unsecured line. He thinks that the Syndicate is suspecting him of something, but he's sure that they don't know about tonight. He told me that after everyone leaves the building, he'll go downstairs and leave the password on a slip of paper, beneath the keyboard of the main computer. Then, he'll distract security. He said he's going to try to enter the basement level once we're done there, and that he'd help us out once he takes care of everything else."
I was still weary of the whole informant thing, wishing we could have met him in person. I knew from experience, though, that sometimes informants were politicians or higher up members of these organizations, and couldn't risk being found out. If Mulder trusted this guy, I had no reason not to.
Maybe he saw my concern, because he said, "Don't worry about the informant. We can get by the password even if he doesn't come through. We'll be fine."
"Of course, Mulder. I wasn't worried, I trust your judgment."
He softly kissed my lips, and said, "You know I'd never let you down in the field. If something goes wrong, I've always got your back."
"And I've got yours," I smiled.
After a quiet moment, he suggested that we studied the blueprints, mapping out possible escapes. The rest of the day was uneventful, and at about ten o'clock at night, we started getting ready. Skinner had insisted we wore bullet proof vests, and I had to agree that we'd be safer that way. I was never a big fan of bulky Kevlar: bullets sometimes went through them anyway, and as a woman with a small frame I felt that they hindered my maneuverability. Mulder was pleased though, eternally worried about losing me in the line of battle. My only consolation was that he had to run around with the heavy armor on as well. Besides, safety first, even though the plan didn't seem very risky.
Finally, we were dressed in black, complete with the vests under our shirts. I pulled my hair back, knowing that otherwise it would get in the way. I excused myself for a moment, walked into Mulder's bedroom, and said my prayers. I guess it was just that Catholic instinct to pray before a nerve-wracking event--final exams, job interviews, infiltrations of government conspiracies...
I walked back into the living room area, and picked up my guns off of the table. I placed one in the holster at my hip, and the smaller one in my ankle holster.
Mulder watched, looked me up and down and said with a grin, "Law enforcement has never looked so good, G-Woman."
"C'mon, Mulder," I sighed, "We should head over to the Gunmen's place."
The thick air of a summer's evening enveloped us as we stood outside the offices of the Gunmen. Finally they let us in, where we went over the plans yet again. The back-up agents were already staked out three blocks from the warehouse. The Gunmen and Skinner would park their van, which looked more equipped for stoners than FBI agents, two blocks from the warehouse. Mulder and I would proceed on foot to the building, enter at a west entrance used for night maintenance staff with a keycard that the Gunmen had created, and then find the basement level.
The Gunmen gave us our electronic equipment. The headsets were extremely discreet, tiny earpieces that wired down into our shirts, to a small black box secured to the bullet-proof vests on our backs. That allowed us to hear them, and it also picked up anything we said. The keycards, and some other equipment to use in case we came across unexpected security, was placed in a small, black backpack that Mulder wore. In that bag was a camera headset as well, which was less discreet, but would prove useful if we needed help hacking.
By eleven fifteen, everything was set.
Skinner gave us a rather sentimental (for him) "be careful" speech, warning us not to excessively jeopardize our lives for this information beyond what our plan had called for. There was a sort of quiet, nervous tension in the room. I wasn't afraid, I'd done similar things so many times in the past. I knew how it would go. I'd feel mostly nothing for a while, and as we got closer to the building, my adrenaline would kick in. I'd become excited, and once we got inside, I'd be deadly serious and professional. That was the only way I knew how to get a job like this done.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, we finally wrapped up at the Gunmen's and got in the van. The ride was silent once again. It was a fairly lengthy drive, and I spent it contemplating over my new reality: just months ago I was planning a wedding. Now I was planning to expose a conspiracy. I felt Mulder's hand find mine, and he held on. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, and then into his eyes. He offered only a silent smile, which I returned. Some time later, I'd lost track at that point, the van came to a stop.
"Okay, guys, you know where to go from here. Remember, we'll be able to hear you if you need anything," Langly said.
"Good luck, both of you," Byers added.
"Yeah, give 'em hell, you two. This is our revenge for everything they've done to you," Frohike said.
Skinner looked at us in his typical stoic fashion and said, "Good luck, Agents. Be careful. If you need back-up, alert us immediately.""Yes, Sir, thank you," I said.
And we were off. Mulder and I slipped out of the van, into the warm August night. We briskly walked to the warehouse, not wanting to expend any of our much-needed energy in a run. We were quiet for the majority of the walk, but as the building came into sight, we heard Langly in our ear pieces.
"I'm into the system, guys. All I need is for you to enter the password from the mainframe, or to bypass it, and we should be able to download the files either here or there. The only requirement is that the password goes in from that specific computer."
"All right, guys, good work," I said.
"Okay, we're going to go silent again. We can still hear you guys if you need us."
We made it to the building, and I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. As we silently went up a flight of stairs that led to the agreed entrance, I felt Mulder's eyes on me. We stopped at the door which had "MANTENIENCE" written on it, and he reached for the keycard the Gunmen had fabricated. When he held it in his hand, he stopped and met my gaze.
His voice was barely a whisper, so only I could hear it. "I love you."
Now or never, G-Woman, I found myself thinking. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him... Tomorrow. Yes, I'll tell him after all of this. When my emotions are more in check. When I'm sure he's in for the long haul this time. Yeah, tomorrow. His promises of love still weren't enough for me to spill out the contents of my soul to him, not again. I was vaguely aware that I was making his mistake from the past, but my "strength"--my fear--was stopping me from correcting that mistake.
At my soft smile, he swiped the keycard. A green light came on, and the door slid open. Nobody would be suspicious, as the night janitors entered through this door every night. They'd assume that we were one of the many people who came in to do the chores of the Syndicate, unaware of whose messes we were cleaning.
The door led to a dark corridor, lined with cement walls. That let us out into a maintenance room, as planned. It was empty, as "Travis" had assured us the area would be. He had arranged for the custodial staff of the previous shift to be held up, painting an upstairs office. We quickly slipped out of the room, thankful to get away from the smell of ammonia and other assorted cleaning materials.
We then found ourselves on the empty, decoy first floor. It was vast, and rather dark, unused even during the day. There was a catwalk around the entire floor, which seemed to be one giant room, filled with absolutely nothing. At the far right was a small, inconspicuous door. According to our blueprints from Travis, it would lead to another area where the elevator and stairs were.
Sure enough, we used the keycard to gain access, and found the elevator and stairwell. Once we entered that room, things looked less abandoned and more professional. The elevator doors were stainless steel, and there was a water fountain on the wall--even the evil get thirsty. Still silent, we used our keycard to access the stairwell of the empty building, thankful for the cover of night.
We proceeded down the stairs, which were dimly lit but rather modern and clean. We came to the bottom of the stairs, swiped the card once more, and were let out into the first level of the basement.
We stood still for a moment, looking around the room. Like the first floor, it appeared to be just one room. In the center was a large group of computers. There was probably close to fifty different computers there, lined up about twenty five on one side, and the other twenty five against the back of the first row, facing the other direction. I guess they were there to accommodate large groups, for times when the Syndicate needed to pull up a great deal of files. At the head of these computers was a larger system, presumably the mainframe that we needed. At each computer was an office chair.
The floors were tiled, and all of the tabletops were a dark mahogany wood. The same catwalk ran around the building, about twenty feet from the ground. Lining the walls were massive filing cabinets, making up a system of everything that must have been in the computers. The computers were much more efficient, as there must have been millions, without exaggeration, of files there. We had no idea where to begin to look for the colonization date.
If we just gained computer access, the Gunmen could scan the files and find the details of colonization, not to mention my file, and evidence of crimes against humanity. If we could get evidence like that, we'd be set. By accessing it from their mainframe, we would eliminate encryption problems. The Gunmen had been unable to get around the security from the outside, but if they could link up to the open system from heir own computers, they'd be able to download information from the van. Not much good with computers beyond typing up reports and surfing the net, I just followed the plan.
"We're in," Mulder said, for the guys in the van.
"Nice work. Get us that password if you can."
Mulder sat at the desk of the main computer. I stood beside him, and he turned on the computer. It came to the login screen. In the space for member name, it read simply: NUMBERONE. The box for the password was empty. Quietly, Mulder lifted up the keyboard for the password. He pulled out a slip of yellow paper, which was folded in half.
When he unfolded it, both of our faces said the same thing: something is very, very wrong. The word was in Cyrillic... We said nothing, unable to even pronounce the foreign word, silently knowing we'd been set up. The informant, everything, all our planning... Before I could even open my mouth, the word was sounded out for us by the voice of a familiar native Russian speaker. Echoing from the catwalk above us, we heard Alex Krycek say, "Predatyelstvo."
Before I could even turn around, let alone reach for my gun, a shot rang out. The last thing I thought before I hit the ground was that I'd never told Mulder I loved him. That's everything that I can remember, before darkness.
NOTES: I really must apologize for the delay. I said I'd have this up more quickly but then I was bombarded by real life stuff that is not as fun as fanfic lol. This baby is almost complete, so hold on just a little longer. Oh, and if any of you speak Russian and can figure out how to get "predatyelstvo" into Cyrillic and then translate it, I will be mighty impressed. But you will find out soon enough (hopefully within hours/one day or so of reading this chapter)...so don't give up! Thanks to all of your for amazing support and feedback.
And if you're a US citizen who is eligible to vote, please do so tomorrow!
Okay I'm done ranting lol...but I would loooove some reviews! :-P