Act II

April 4, 2003, 9:39 PM, New York City – Doggett's Apartment

"John?"

"Monica. What's going on?"

"It's good to hear from you. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, what's this about?"

"It's about…our friend."

"Mu…"

"Our friend."

"Yeah. You're not the first to mention that to me today."

"They talked to you already?"

"Yeah they did."

"They spoke with me this morning. We need to talk."

"Down there?"

"I'll meet you up there. Tomorrow afternoon."

"Where?"

"It's your city, John."

"Okay. There's a deli on 5th. Dean's."

"Done."

"Monica,"

"Yes?"

"Be careful. Skinner was trying to warn me about something. Watch where you stick your head."

"I will. Take care."

"Good night, Monica."

April 5, 2003, 2:03 PM, New York City

Doggett was sitting at the table with a turkey sandwich. No sign of Agent Reyes yet. It was an abnormally slow day at the deli. There was only one customer in line. That customer was a young woman with long black hair. After she got her sandwich, she walked over to Doggett's table and sat down. "Hi there. You look like you could use some company."

Doggett looked at her coldly. "I'm waiting for someone."

"I can see that. I can keep you company until she, I guess it's a she, get here."

"I can eat by myself."

"Or we could talk. Lots to talk about these days. Guns, glory, magnetite."

"What did you say?"

"Magnetite. Nice stuff. Makes your problems stay away, am I right?"

"Who are you?" He was tensing up, and wishing he had his gun.

"A friend. Well, a friend of a friend. A woman you knew once. Worked very closely with. She sent me to find you."

"Who…"

"Shh. I'm just supposed to give you this, Agent Doggett." She pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Trust no one, John." She kissed him on the cheek, and then picked up her sandwich and walked out the door.

A voice spoke to him. "I see New York is treating you well, John."

"Monica? Where have you been?"

"New York traffic. And my flight was delayed. Who was that?"

"She said she's a friend. A friend of Scully. She gave me this." He showed her the paper.

"What's it say?"

"I haven't read it."

"Well…"

He opened the paper. It only showed an address and a time. It was a location in Milton, Vermont. The time was Sunday, 0900.

Monica spoke. "So Scully's in Vermont?"

"It would seem. I thought they were overseas."

"That's what I'm here to tell you about."

"What have you got, Monica?"

"We got a report from the NOPD, the local police, about a cop killing."

"God…"

"Well it wouldn't have been our concern except that they found something at the scene. The killer was wiretapping and spying on someone."

"Who?"

"Some kid. Nobody. They handed it over to us. It was extensive, what they did. Video cameras all over his house, they were stealing the family's mail, the phone was tapped, keyloggers and backdoor software was installed on the computers. The kid's computer had it the worst, every action was being recorded remotely. Every website, every password and login, they had everything on this kid."

"What did they have?"

"This." She pulled out a folder. Doggett looked through it. It was chat logs and emails to and from trustnoone . "Mulder?"

"That's what I think. I'm pretty sure that what they thought, too."

"Why is Mulder chatting with some kid?"

"He runs The Dark Archive. A website for declassified government information."

"Mulder's kind of thing."

"Exactly."

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"The bureau has this information now. They can trace Mulder. They have this kid's credentials. They can pretend to be him."

"You mean they can smoke Mulder out?"

"Precisely."

"Monica, Skinner, and the director, told me they weren't interested anymore."

"They lied, John."

"Skinner?"

"Who do you trust now, John? Mulder and Scully are gone."

"I trust you. I always trust you."

"Thank you. Sometimes I don't trust myself anymore."

"We can't give up like that. We can't be like…like Mulder."

"Well I want you to have these."

"What? This is bureau property."

"I know. And I can't let them have it."

"This is serious, Monica."

"And it's Mulder's life we're talking."

"Fine. And what do I do with this? I'm a civilian."

"Find him. Finish what he started."

"And you?"

"I'm going to bury this. Keep them off the trail until you find them. Then I'm going with you to Vermont."

"Alright. You just be careful."

"That's what I was going to tell you."

"You know they aren't done. The Super Soldiers, I mean."

"I know. That's why I need you on this."

In a car parked down the street, a man in a trenchcoat listened in. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. "We've got a trail. JD will lead us right to them. I need everything I can get on this Agent Monica Reyes. She may be a problem." The voice was that of Agent Tolson.

FBI Headquarters, 3:43 PM

"Skinner, thanks for coming."

The assistant director sat in the chair across from the director. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm concerned about what Doggett told me. Is he honest?"

"His integrity is beyond question, as far as I'm concerned."

"But aliens? That look human? Come on, Skinner. This is insane."

"His report is consistent."

"Yes. I know. I've read. It's all consistent. What I want to know, is who they are."

"I believe Mulder's statements…"

"I'm not interested in Mulder's statement. He's nuts. The man's a lunatic. He infects everyone around him with lunacy. I'm not interested in chasing Dracula with wooden stakes when dirty bombs are going off in airports."

"Sir, I…"

"Skinner, I need to know who I can trust."

Skinner was silent.

"Well? Who can I trust?"

"A friend once told me, trust no one. I think he was right."

"Times like these, I can believe that. I want to know, Skinner, can I trust you?"

"Mr. Director, I don't believe I can trust you."

"That, I do believe. I appreciate that. I have something I need you do to."

"What is that?"

"I want the 'truth' here. No more of this alien crap. I want to know who is running the show, who is pulling the strings, and if there is any reason to suspect terrorism. I need you to head an investigative unit on these matters."

"Am I to understand you are re-opening The X-Files?"

"No, never. You will operate in secret, and this is in addition to your other duties. Officially, this is a counter-terrorism unit. I will leave it to you to run this one, but I want to know how far this corruption goes. Who is funding it, what it's tied to."

"Fine. I want Monica Reyes on the team."

"Your call. She was part of the X-Files project at one time, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"I see. Remember, Skinner, this is not the X-Files."

"Sir, her record is exemplary, her work on unusual crimes…"

"Yes. That is noted. I want this group organized by Monday. You have the weekend to get this moving."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes, there is. I want someone on your team."

"Who is that?"

"Agent Michael Tolson. Former NYPD, he helped take down the Torino crime family a few years back. He's been with us a few years now, a rising star. Heard of him?"

"Heard of him. Never met him."

"He's met with me a few times. A lot of connections, that boy has. He does good work."

"Connections aren't what's important…"

"No, but it legitimizes the work. He's good. He'll be a powerful asset."

"Yes sir."

"That is all. Dismissed."

JFK International Airport, 7:10 PM

Monica Reyes was walking toward the terminal, not aware of the man reading his newspaper as she walked by. He lowered the paper enough to watch her, then whispered into his pocket. Another man across the hall nodded, and began walking in her direction. Reyes showed her ticket at the gate, and the woman there told her to step aside. A TSA agent was waiting there.

She went to the TSA agent, who looked her over suspiciously. "Are you carrying any weapons?"

"I am an FBI agent, and I have my gun."

She reached for her badge, and the man looked horrified. "Don't you move."

"I am a federal agent, and I am reaching for my badge."

He called on his radio for help. Reyes thought to herself this was very strange. Things were tense in the last few weeks because of Iraq, but she had never seen a reaction like this. Meanwhile, the man who was following her approached, with the man reading the newspaper close behind. "I've got this. Ma'am, you'll need to come with us."

"Who are you? I'm a federal agent on official business…"

He pulled out a gun. "It will be easier on everyone if you just come with.."

She kicked him in the chest and ran. "Get her!" he shouted to his newspaper-carrying friend.