Chapter Four
The Golden Fleece Inn, Flagstaff, AZ
September 22nd, 2000, 11:35 p.m.
All Scully wanted to do now was collapse on her bed. Dinner consisted of the very thing she had refused earlier in the day from Hester and his CSI coworker. Well, it wasn't Burger King; it was worse--Taco Bell. They were the only ones open within the area after eleven, and she wasn't about to go roaming around for a Wendy's instead--she was vulnerable to falling asleep at the wheel at this point. But at least they had some kind of taco salad. The shriveled and deflated vegetables the sixteen year old girl assured her were grape tomatoes tasted like they'd been soaked in battery acid. And the lettuce was about as fresh as a package of Asiago cheese.
But it was some form of nutrition--she wouldn't have dared to even try those greasy and chewy nightmarish things that were normally accepted by Mulder as "yummy Mexican tacos". Besides, they looked about as old as the coat of clear polish on her nails. "I'm going to have to touch that up sometime in the near future if I want to keep my job," she mumbled as she took a quick gander at them on her way back from the motel office.
Scully opened the Le Sabre's trunk, picked up her overnight bag, and strolled over to the door to her room. Before she slid the key into the lock, her gaze shifted to the Venetian blinds on the window. They were closed, but all the rest of the vacant rooms beside hers were open. She knew something wasn't kosher and sneaked her SIG Sauer out of her holster as she carefully turned the key with one hand. As soon as the lock was undone, she stood to one side of the door after kicking it open. When there were no shots or any signs of suspicious activity, she dropped her overnight bag to the ground, and cautiously entered the room. Scully tried to hunt for a light switch with one hand still keeping the gun in a defensive position. "I'm a federal agent. I know there's someone in here, and it's time to stop playing games," she ordered.
"Very well, then, Agent Scully," a baritone voice answered her and turned on a bedtable lamp.
"Krycek. And who the hell are you?" Scully motioned with her gun to Marita Covarrubius.
"We're not here to cause any trouble, Agent Scully," Covarrubius told her and began to move away from Krycek's side to switch on another light, but Scully removed the safety from the weapon.
"Stay where you are," Scully commanded, and surprisingly, the woman obeyed. She also raised her hands to chest level submissively.
"Wouldn't it be better if we didn't disturb the neighbors?" Krycek smirked and pointed to the open door with his good arm.
"It'll stay open until you leave. Which will be in two minutes." Scully held her wrist up to quickly glance at her watch but still kept an eye on the two intruders.
"I'm afraid what we have to say will take longer than that," Covarrubius declared. "Can I put my hands down now?"
"Not until I figure out just what in the hell's going on here."
"I can explain, if you'd just let me put down my hands and turn on another light, please." Scully relented finally, and Covarrubius illuminated the motel room further. "My name is Marita Covarrubius. I am a special representative to the Secretary General of the UN, and I was previously an informant to Agent Mulder."
"Then what's your role now? Oh, wait, let me guess. You had the Attorney General call the FBI and shut down our case out here. I knew something fishy was going on here--you're producing those children now, aren't you, Krycek?"
"I'm involved, but I'm not in the making process, so to speak," he remarked and looked behind himself. "Can I sit down?"
"No. You're not staying. I don't accommodate murderers or people I don't trust," Scully signaled with her head over to Covarrubius.
"The purpose of that phone call was to remove the involvement of Assistant Director Skinner and Agent Doggett, Agent Scully. We knew you'd be reluctant to give up one of Agent Mulder's cases so easily," Covarrubius informed her.
"I was involved with that X-File, too," Scully barked.
"As you are now, and so now our purposes have entwined. That's why we're here."
"I don't understand."
"Then why don't we discuss it further? Perhaps without the gun in our faces?"
"Yeah, right. I trust either one of you as far as I could throw you."
"I'm unarmed, Agent Scully," Krycek lifted up his leather jacket to show her the absence of a holster.
"I'm sure you could still have a knife strapped to your leg somewhere."
"I'd so be wasting my time right now if I had that in mind," he became agitated.
"All right, but the door still stays open," Scully sighed and acquiesced to their wants. She backed up slowly to retrieve her overnight bag, set it down on the bed, and sat down in a chair with the gun within an arm's reach on the table.
"I'm afraid we can't do that," Covarrubius journeyed over to the door and closed it. "What we have to tell you is much too sensitive information for the general public to hear."
Scully was about to protest, but she realized that it was futile. If Krycek and this woman had wanted to hurt her, they would have done it five minutes ago when she was standing in the doorway.
"As I was saying, our purposes are now entwined, so to say, with this Litchfield experiment. Our interests are merely for the preservation of the human race," Covarrubius elaborated.
"With killer children?" Scully snarled.
"The methods that have been tried in the past are old and ineffective, i.e., the vaccine."
"What...do you mean?"
"There is a new species out there, Agent Scully, as you have seen come in the consistency of black oil. Once it infects the host, an EBE commences to grow inside, and consume all of the host's innards until it is ready to hatch, as it were."
"It's not new. It's been around for millions of years," Scully corrected her.
"Well, the ones we've seen infecting people most recently cannot be expunged with our current strain of the vaccine. That tells us that they've built up an immunity to it. We've tried injecting the sick at several different times of the incubation, too. But to no avail."
"That's one of the reasons why the Litchfield experiments were set forth into existence once more," Scully insinuated.
"Correct. Only we've hit a snag in the process, which is why we're here."
"And you need me for something? I won't be a party to making test tube assassins." She shook her head, and Krycek settled into the chair.
"We thought not...at first," he mused.
"Who is this we, anyway? Last time I got involved in a sick little idea like this, the old man was still with you. Is he finally confined to just a bed now?"
"Spender was part of the old way, and therefore expendable. He's been removed from the entire equation."
"You killed him," Scully assumed. The expression on Krycek's face grew smug, but he made no verbal admission.
"The disease would have done it in a few more months anyhow. Thought you'd be pleased."
"Answer my question. Who else is involved? You just told me that you're not the one holding the strings. Now who's pulling them?"
"A group of men and women concerned for every man, woman, and child inhabiting this planet," Covarrubius stated.
"I see. If I find out that this new consortium is responsible for Agent Mulder's disappearance, consider it open war upon your little-"
"We're not. We only came into being after he disappeared, I assure you, Agent Scully. In fact, Agent Mulder's abduction was one of the main factors to reassemble some of the members."
"What do you mean? I heard everyone got burned up to a crisp at El Rico."
"Only two of those men that were not present at that attack are still alive and operating in the group."
"Who?"
"That's not important right now. What does matter is the X-Files, and the proper agents conducting them," Covarrubius said. "Only half of the team is functioning here."
"You just want Mulder back so you can try to push us around like your little pawns again, right? Well, when he does get back, it's not going to happen, so don't even try to find him."
"That's not our purpose any longer. Although you've seen our recent influence over the Attorney General and various other people at the FBI, we do not intend to interfere with your cases."
"Influence? You people just don't 'influence'. You threaten and suck the life out of people like it was bone marrow," Scully bitterly spat.
"Я знал нас должно не собраться нигде с ею," Krycek mumbled.
(I knew we'd be getting nowhere with her.)
"Быть пациентом, Krycek," Covarrubius scolded him.
(Just be patient.)
"Anything you're going to say in this room will be in English from now on," Scully commanded.
"I apologize, Agent Scully, for our rudeness. It won't happen again," Covarrubius agreed.
At least this woman was brought up correctly, Scully thought.
"Anyhow, what's even more important than Agent Mulder right now, even us, Agent Scully, is the eradication of this retrovirus and its subsequent invaders. And to do that, we need your help."
"I told you that I'm not interested, so you can just forget it. If that's all you have to say, then get out."
"What if I told you that it could bring Agent Mulder back to you?"
"I'd say that you're full of shit. You've spoken your piece, so you can leave now."
"Show her, Alex," Covarrubius gestured with her head to him. His hand moved for his pocket, and so did Scully's for her gun.
"If that hand disappears, you're gonna join that cancer ridden bastard in Hell."
"You should've been quicker on the trigger, then." Krycek withdrew his hand and opened it up. Inside his palm was a miniature version of the bounty hunter stiletto, but there was a window on the outside of the cylindrical sheath. He held it up to the nightstand's light, and Scully saw that the container not only held a steel needle but also some blood. "It's Mulder's."
"And how would you know that if you weren't working with them again?"
"Because it was found days after the FBI manhunt team left Arizona. You were there, with the kid, right? Well so was the ship," Krycek declared.
"You could have just collected that from an old sample. I'm not buying it," Scully lowered the gun.
"Take a look. How long does it take for blood to coagulate?" He tossed it onto the bed, and she picked up the stiletto to study it.
"A few days, depending on the erythrocyte count. But that could be easily doctored by some of your people," she told him haughtily.
"All right, bad example. But it's still his. And what about that piece of paper, Marita?"
"I almost forgot, thank you, Alex. Here." Covarrubius came closer to her and handed her a torn piece of notebook paper.
"Mulder's handwriting. I'm not saying anything either way until I get them analyzed."
"I don't doubt it. But just to let you know, time is always against us."
"This case requires my time right now."
"And where do you expect the direction to go from here with that skeptic? She'll just be dragging you down instead. Besides, if you ever did figure out where it was being done, whom would you prosecute? The people working on it can disappear very easily," Krycek said. "Don't waste your energy with this right now. Help us save our planet. Help save Mulder."
"Get out."
"Very well, then, we'll wait until you've had every cell and inch of that studied to prove that it's Agent Mulder's," Covarrubius nodded.
"How will you know when I've had that done?" Neither Krycek or Covarrubius said a word to one another; they just exchanged assertive glimpses and walked to the door.
"We'll let you know the details when you're ready." Covarrubius opened the door, and Krycek followed her, shutting it behind himself.
"I told you," he argued once they were in the dark sedan. "It would have been easier to start a fire with a wet matchbook."
"I hate resorting to threats, Alex. That's your style--something you picked up from Spender. Look how far that's gotten us so far in the war."
He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. "You got any better ideas? You said it yourself, that we're running out of time."
"If we'd gone in there and you'd gotten to run your circus, the conversation would have lasted half as long. And you'd probably not be in shape to be driving."
"I'd rather take the beatings of a woman than deal with her mouth."
"From what I witnessed, somehow I doubt that Scully would be much of a talker in that instance. A little less conversation and quite a bit more action, I'd think."
"Speaking of that, Marita...-" A thundercloud above them growled ominously.
"All right. Strughold would kill you if he found out about this."
"He doesn't have to know then, does he?"
Scully paced the room as she brushed her teeth. "There's no way that they have any sort of means to get him back," she assured herself. "And why would Mulder be so important to the X-Files if they weren't going to be bullying us all over the chess board again?"
But would it be so bad if you could save a lot of people in the process? The other half of her argued.
"There's no guarantee that that could happen even if I help them."
And what about Mulder? How much is his life worth to you?
"Everything, but...the last time I tried to do something altruistic for these people..."
Krycek just told you that he's dead. He's no longer in the picture.
"I can't do anything until I know what their agenda is."
That woman sounded like she was serious and like she genuinely wanted to help you.
"So did Spender."
So check on it. Ask the Gunmen to find out as much as they can about her character.
"What they find might be only public records, and we both know that anyone involved in politics is as two-faced as an evangelical TV preacher."
It's worth a shot, isn't it? For Mulder?
"I'm still not convinced that-"
I'd think that woman's connections would go farther than any amount of hunting with Doggett.
"That's for sure. Poor man still thinks Mulder went AWOL." She rinsed her mouth out and started to undress. "I just don't want to...be disappointed again. If I do decide to help them, what if I fail?"
Take one day at a time. Remember how much he means to you, and you to him.
September 23rd, 2000, 1:55 a.m.
Scully awoke to the chirping of her cell phone beside her bed and answered it groggily. "Scully."
"Agent Scully? This is John Doggett. I'm sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night like this, but AD Skinner's taken sick."
"What?" She immediately sat up and leaned against the wall.
"Yeah, he had to be rushed to George Washington right away. I'm on my way there now to find out what I can. Do you want me to call you when I get there or wait until the morning?"
"Like hell, I'm going back right now." Scully got up out of bed and started to pack up her belongings.
"But what about-"
"I can fax Detective Gardener anything she needs from our office. Skinner needs me, well...I mean us."
"I think all we're probably gonna be doing is waiting, though I'm not sure. Are you sure you want to do that to yourself? You need the sleep."
"I'll sleep on the plane." Scully hung up on him and speed dialed Continental Airlines.