Act I
April 4, 2003, 11:21 AM, New York City
A man is sitting at a desk watching people enter a building. He is wearing a uniform and armed with a gun. His hair is cut short, like a crew cut, and he has a hardened expression on his face. He is surrounded by monitors, which show different parts of the building. On his right chest is a nametag labeled "Doggett."
He notices an unusual figure enter the building. He is wearing a long trenchcoat, and Doggett senses a certain rhythm to his movements. He looks like a dangerous figure, either law enforcement or criminal underworld. He is approaching Doggett.
The man comes near Doggett's station. "John Doggett?"
"Yeah. Who's asking?"
"Agent Tolson, FBI." He pulls out a badge.
"FBI…"
"The director needs to speak with you. It's urgent."
"I've got nothing to say to him. You tell him that."
"Sir, he said it was very important. I was to bring you in, under any circumstance."
"What the hell is this? I'm on duty now."
"We've made arrangements for that."
Doggett could see Raines, his night relief, entering the door. "So I don't have a choice in this?"
"No, Agent Doggett. You do not. Please come this way, before we draw a crowd."
"Right…" Doggett muttered as he started to follow the agent out.
3:22 PM, FBI Headquarters, Washington, DC
Doggett and Tolson headed down the corridor toward the director's office.
"Tolson, huh? Family connection?"
"No sir, just a coincidence."
"I see. Some coincidence."
"We're here."
"I know, I used to work here."
"Yes, sir. The director is waiting."
Doggett entered the door where a receptionist sat at a desk. Tolson spoke. "John Doggett here to see the director."
"I will let him know." She got on her phone and told the director that John Doggett was waiting. "Come this way, Mr. Doggett." She led Doggett into the office, while Tolson left. Inside there were three people seated around the director's desk. The director himself, an older, once-blonde woman, and an irritated-looking man with a shaved head and glasses.
"Agent Doggett, have a seat." Said the man behind the desk.
"I'm not an agent anymore. I quit, remember."
"Have a seat. We need to talk about an incident that happened."
"And what 'incident' would that be?"
The bald man spoke up. "This is important, John."
The director answered him. "The murder of a military intelligence officer, Knowle Rohrer."
"Knowle Rohrer? That's already been covered, covered-up, and stamped with a nice seal of approval from this office. You looking to pin it on more people now?"
"Relax, Agent…Mr. Doggett. It seems some concerning things happened in my predecessor's time in this office. We just want the truth."
"You got the truth. Fox Mulder spelled it out for you, and this office shut him up. Wanted him dead."
"Yes. Yes, this office wanted him dead. That was then. Things have changed now."
"I'll bet…"
"AD Skinner has been alerting me to some concerning things. Allegations of corruption reaching far outside this office, military tribunals being held off-the-record on civilians, unauthorized records maintained on American citizens. Agent Doggett, this is a time of war. We're dealing with an outside threat looking to undermine the nature of America itself. Now I find out this office is part of that threat?"
"Surprised?"
"I've looked at some of the files outside of your "X-Files" project. We've had agents disappear. One agent affiliated with this alleged corruption, Alex Krycek, had close ties to Russian organized crime before he disappeared. An assistant director implicated in corruption was arrested for homicide. Another assistant director committed suicide before the conclusion of an investigation that you started."
"Excuse me? I closed my investigation into AD Kersh."
"You did. It was reopened after the Rohrer incident."
"On whose authority?"
The director turned to AD Skinner. "My authority, John."
"Even after…"
"That's not your concern."
The director spoke again. "It's clear crimes were committed within these walls. The nature of these crimes remains unclear. What is clear is that the danger they represent is a threat to the safety and security of the United States. That makes it my interest."
"So what do you want from me then?"
"The truth, Agent Doggett."
After the meeting, Doggett was walking away from the office. A voice from behind him shouted to him. "John, stop."
"So it's John now, Skinner?"
"I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me? Dragging me out here to say what they already know?"
"To thank you for speaking the truth. It's getting harder to do that here."
"Why is that?"
"The people in charge don't want the truth. They want…something else."
"This new director, you trust him?"
"Do you have to ask that?"
Doggett nodded.
"This is about Agent Mulder."
"Mulder? He's gone. You know it. I know it. Leave him out of this."
"They don't want him now. They're occupied with Bin Laden and al-Qaida. He's not even on their radar."
"Good for him. I hope he enjoys having them off his tail."
"It's not the bureau he has to worry about. Whether he knows it or not, he's stirred up a shitstorm here. He's a wanted man outside of the FBI."
"What's this got to do with me?" Doggett asked.
"I need you to warn him. I have a message for him."
"You expect me to track him down?"
"I expect you to save his life."
"Resigned, remember. I threw my badge on Kersh's desk and told him where to shove it, Skinner."
"That's why I still trust you."
9:31 PM, New York City – Doggett's Apartment
Doggett entered his apartment and removed his jacket. His apartment was small and modest, and well kept. Not a lot of pictures or decorations, other than a picture of his son near the phone. He immediately went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. While he wrestled the cap off, he went to the answering machine, which had a message on it. He played it, and a female voice spoke. "John, I need to talk to you. Call me at the office. Or call my cell. This is important." It was a voice he had not heard in months, from a life he was trying to escape from.
He took a swig from the bottle, then picked up the phone.