Chapter Six
Scully's Apartment, Georgetown, Washington D.C.
September 23rd, 2000, 7:32 p.m.
After Scully let herself in, she found a business envelope lying across her doorstep, and picked it up. A solitary piece of stationary with the emblem "Special Representative to the Secretary General" was stenciled across it in gold ink. On the paper were four words:
Lincoln Memorial. 9 p.m.
"I can't do this," she whispered and balled up the paper.
Why not? You already lied to your partner and your boss.
"Because the cost is too high."
How do you know for sure that Skinner isn't lying to you? You saw the look on his face earlier today. It reminded you of the same face he made two years ago after he told you and Mulder not to pursue the matter of the nano machines in his bloodstream.
"But that's no reason for me to continue lying to him."
Don't you want to find out who is doing this to him and stop it?
"I don't know if I can."
You'll never know if you don't make that appointment.
Scully threw the letter in the garbage and reached into her coat pocket for the proof of Mulder's existence. She studied the phial and pushed her thumb against the bottom. Sure enough, the stiletto sprang out of its hiding place.
Scully left the instrument on her kitchen counter, strolled into her bedroom, and opened a drawer in her chiffonier. She pushed her lingerie aside and withdrew two extra clips of ammunition for her SIG Sauer. When she was satisfied that they were hidden safely in the other coat pocket, she slammed the drawer shut firmly and maintained a steady pace towards her door.
Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C.
September 23rd, 2000, 9:15 p.m.
Scully climbed the stairs to the impressive sculpture and glanced around herself warily. "My, Miss Scully, how you've...changed," a highly educated English accent greeted her and she whirled around to see what she thought was the ghost of the Well-Manicured Man. "It's been a long time since we've spoken, has it not? In fact, I believe, you had much longer hair at the time."
"How is it possible that you are still alive? Mulder told me that you were killed in a car bomb three years ago."
"That's what you were meant to believe," he replied ambiguously and came into the light so she could see that he indeed was in full body and spirit.
"I don't understand."
"Of course not. What your partner saw was an illusion. Oh, the car blew up into millions of pieces and so did the driver. But I survived, as you can see."
"Then why weren't you involved with the others...at El Rico?"
"The illusion wasn't just meant for the audience of Mr. Mulder, Miss Scully. Or you--but you were rather indisposed at the time. You...were infected with the retrovirus."
"What have you been doing all this time? Hiding in sewers and licking your wounds until it was time for you to come out and kill again?" He gave her an enchanting beam and descended the stairs. Scully was intrigued with this man but equally disgusted that she had to bend to his will and amusement. But she pursued him anyway and traveled alongside him.
"I was with my grandchildren, making sure that they had proper care, as their mother had just perished. The motivation for my mythological death was to escape the Consortium. Or rather, get out from underneath his grip."
"Spender," she nodded.
"It was my belief that they gave him too much power. And as a result of their carelessness, they lost the lives of their families as well as their own and have cost us a great deal in the war against extinction."
"Did you know he's dead?"
"Oh yes, I'm very much aware of that, Miss Scully. Unfortunately, their numbers grow every day. We are losing more and more of our race, even as we speak."
"Because of the retrovirus?"
"That is correct. And we are in great need of your assistance."
"You have control of the government again and probably your pick of the country's greatest scientists for your dirty work. Why me?"
"Because you are an investigator as well. I believe you met a young lady that was accompanying Alex Krycek named Marita Covarrubius, is that right?"
"Yes, I did."
"She told you that we are at a stalemate in the Litchfield experiments. The conundrum our geneticists have is that they are doing guesswork. As a result of that, they are inadvertently making mistakes...something we cannot afford in either time or money. We need you to locate the final Eve. As you know, all of Dr. Kendrick's work was terminated and demolished--that was done by Mr. Mulder's first informant. We thought that it was not a wise idea at the time, but before we could stop it, the deed was completed."
"Looks like you're at a dead end. Our case files were destroyed in that fire your colleague started. I have nothing to offer you," she miffed and stopped walking.
"Surely you have other...resources." He also halted in his tracks and touched her arm fleetingly.
"None that I'm willing to use in your scheme."
"Perhaps you do not see it clearly enough. Though it is not my preferred method for dealing with this species, it is the only one that's currently working."
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?"
"Don't you see the entire picture? If this virus continues to spread at its current rate, there's no way of stopping it! Our vaccines are no longer a choice! They have a quiet weapon for their side of the war, Agent Scully. With these boys and girls, so do we--and with this woman's aid, it will be infallible."
"How? How can you guarantee that these children, dare I even say it, kill with precision and accuracy?"
"With your help, they will."
"I can't believe you're asking me to do such a thing."
"War requires sacrifice, Miss Scully. As the daughter of a Naval captain, you should understand that concept fairly well."
"Don't you try to manipulate me by dragging my family into this!"
"It is just one of the more subtle procedures we've been using. Unfortunately, you do not seem to be changing your mind, so...-"
"I will kill you myself here and now should that need arise." Scully grabbed him by the coat, and her hand moved to her hip holster.
"If you feel it's necessary, but doing that won't stop the Assistant Director from suffering. I'm the negotiator, Miss Scully, not the puppeteer. And they'll just keep doing whatever it takes to make you acquiesce to our needs."
"Let's say I agree to this. How do I know for sure that you can get Mulder back?"
"As with any mutual agreement, there is some amount of risk involved. I'm afraid you'll have to accept only what I can offer you."
"And that is?"
"My word that Mr. Mulder will be back...soon."
"I think I'd have a better chance on a roulette wheel." She let go of him.
"Do you know why they took him, Miss Scully?"
"And you do, I suppose."
"Nothing more than a theory, but at least it is a plausible explanation."
"I'll listen, but I can't guarantee that I'll accept anything."
"For years, they've been taking humans for experimentation and study. But it is my belief that now they are preparing something."
"What?"
"Something that will act faster than even the retrovirus. Something that will be invisible in our culture until it is too late."
"Will you stop talking circles around the goddamn issue and get to the point!"
"I don't know what they're doing for sure. But it will probably be somewhere around our idea...perhaps worse. Maybe not only children will be assassins--maybe one night a loved one disappears in the blink of an eye only to be returned the next and then completely murder his entire family."
"I think...I'm going to be sick," Scully covered her mouth while the man tried to steady and guide her out of the public eye. Fortunately, it came just as they reached the grass and darkness.
"Do you understand why now? Our group is desperately trying to save the human race, and the only way we can do it now is through you."
"Why can't we just have peace? Why does it have to be like this?"
"I cannot answer that, Miss Scully. But I do know that the years of peace created earlier by my colleagues are days of the past. They were just buying time for us, did you know that? None of us exactly knew when the day would come, so we tried to prepare well in advance. How foolish we were to think we were superior to them."
"I know where I could possibly get those case files reconstructed, but that's all I can do for now."
"That's a start, isn't it?"
"Might I ask...what are your intentions towards Mulder when he comes back?"
"That he continues his work on the X-Files with you, Miss Scully. And as promised by Miss Covarrubius, we will not interfere. Your work is just as consequential as ours...for now."
"How do I contact you once I've located her?"
"You will bring her to Georgetown University to work with this man," he reached into a vested pocket and gave her a business card. "Dr. Bowman is a professor of human genetics. His office and laboratory hours are listed here."
"Is this all you need me to do, or will more be required of me?"
"Yes, there is more. It's been advised by your superior that you take a few days off for yourself. If you must use the FBI for support, do it inconspicuously. No one there is to know what you are doing with us--that's why you've been made to drop the case."
Lone Gunmen Headquarters, Washington, D.C.
September 24th, 2000, 12:01 a.m.
A bout of thunderous banging drove Langly crankily away from his computer to the door. He took his time to unlock the door, and Scully practically mowed him over as she marched inside. "Hey, Scully, " he remarked.
"Where're the other two?" she inquired curtly.
"Asleep, I think, but now that you pounded our door into a grade A toothpick, you probably woke up the dead." Shortly after he said this, Byers and Frohike joined them in their pajamas and bathrobes.
"I had a feeling it'd be you, Agent Scully," Byers observed.
"Yeah, I'm glad it wasn't Agent Doggett. Now that's someone I would not want to be woken up for...not that it hasn't happened before," Frohike piped in.
"I need something from you. Almost six months ago, Mulder told me that you've been reconstructing pieces of old X-Files together that had been in the fire. Now I need one of them. I need the one regarding the Litchfield experiments. It'll be in the first year that I worked with Mulder, if that's how you organized them."
"Well, we've managed to save quite a bit, except for the ones that were burned to a crisp," Langly pinched his fingers together and returned to his computer. Scully stalked him all the way over and rubbed her eyes. "Just give me a few minutes, please. I need time to close what I'm working on here and open up the other program."
"Are you okay, Agent Scully?" Byers asked.
"I'm fine. I'm just tired, that's all," she sighed.
"How much sleep have you gotten in the past 48 hours?" Frohike peered through his bottle thick glasses at her and went to the refrigerator.
"About five hours."
"That's not good. What about the baby, Agent Scully? You shouldn't be on your feet like that," Byers told her and guided her over to their couch.
"That's very kind of you guys to be concerned, but-"
"It's nothing. We know how much this means to you to be able to finally conceive, and we don't want there to be any hiccups in the process. For both of your sakes." He sat her down and took the glass of milk that Frohike had brought over. "Drink this."
"I don't want any right now," Scully pushed his hand away.
"Think of your child. Drink this and get some rest. This might take a while."
"How long?"
"It doesn't matter. What does is your health. If we find the case, we'll print out everything and make sure that it's intact for you in the morning."
"The morning? I need this information now!"
"And we're working on it, we assure you. But please take some rest now, while you have the chance."
"You're in the hands of the Master, Agent Scully, don't worry," Langly chimed in.
She finally relented and accepted the glass from Byers, which had already begun to drip with condensation. Moments later, she fell asleep with the glass still in hand, and Frohike draped a blanket over her after moving the glass to safety.
About five hours later...
Scully woke and found two of the three Gunmen asleep. Frohike's head was immovably frozen on their kitchen table snoring, and Langly was sprawled onto the desktop with his arms tightly clasped around the keyboard. She saw the Litchfield file resting on top of the printer, and she breathed a sigh thanking God that she wouldn't have to lie to them, too. Unfortunately, that relief was lived momentarily when she heard a toilet flush and Byers come out of the bathroom.
"Did you find something happening again like this?" he questioned her as she collected the papers.
"Yeah."
"Are you investigating them with Agent Doggett?"
"We're using them for reference." That much was true, at least. "Thank you."
"Will you be needing our assistance for any further activities?"
"Not this time, Byers." She found her keys had escaped from her coat pocket and scooped them up from the sofa.
"Any word on Mulder?" Scully was glad that her back was turned, that he could not witness her emotions. She rebuked herself silently for letting them get the better of her again when she knew that she was in complete control of them.
"Nothing yet, I'm afraid." She made her way toward the door and started to undo all of their locks.
"You know you can always come here if you ever need anything, Agent Scully, just like you did last night."
"You can't possibly imagine how much this will help me," she mumbled as she exited and quietly closed the door behind herself.