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TITLE: A Few Good Men
AUTHOR: Scifinerdgrl
RATING: R for violence
CATEGORY: X (X-File)
SPOILERS: Avatar, Existence
KEYWORDS: Character dies, Pre-XF story, Skinner
SUMMARY: Skinner is visited by Vietnam flashbacks and the ghosts
of old friends as he tries to rescue Scully and her baby.
WARNING: MAJOR Character Death. (Not the SPG)
SON OF WARNING: I started this story in August, 2001, and I
suspended it on 9/11. After I started up again in November, it
started turning unabashedly pro-military and patriotic even
though I've always been kind of anti-military and NOT a
flag-waver. I don't understand it either but this story has a
mind of its own.
FEEDBACK: scifinerdgrl@hotmail.com
FLAMES: whocareswhatyouthink@biteme.com
CHAPTER 1
The young marine landed on his stomach, his face down in a muddy
creek. At first he couldn't breathe, but with a herculean effort
he turned his head and spit out the mud and twigs that had
intruded into his mouth. He took in a tentative breath, then
opened his eyes and looked up. Through the mist of the jungle he
could hear the muffled footsteps and calls of his platoon, far
behind him and getting further. The bastards, he thought.
They're leaving me here!
He laid still for a moment, getting his bearings, making his
plans. He could feel his gun underneath him, and visualized how
he would check his gun for damage, then run towards his platoon,
his gun out ahead of him. Just like in boot camp, he thought.
As he mentally rehearsed his next moves, he heard a low groan a
few feet away.
"Walt?" the groan evolved into his name. "Walt? Are you here?"
Silence, then a more plaintive cry. "Walt? Anybody? I... I
can't feel my legs."
Walter S. Skinner, PFC, raised his head and looked around.
"Hank? Is that you?" he said in a loud stage whisper.
"Walt?" the relieved yet pained voice cried out. "Yeah, it's me.
I'm over here." Walter's eyes raced from point to point, scanning
for any sign of humanity. All he could see was the lush green
foliage of the Vietnam jungle. "Keep talking" he whispered
loudly. "But keep it down. I'm coming for you."
As Hank tried to comply, Walter scrambled through the underbrush,
his gun in one hand and his body as low to the ground as he could
manage. Just like boot camp, he thought. He came to Hank, his
best friend in the platoon, hiding in a tangle of thick vines.
Only Hank's head was visible. After carefully checking around
them, Walter stood up, and reached for Hank's arms. "I'll get
you out of here, guy. Hold on." Hank pulled his arms out from
the vines and gripped Walter's wrists. Walter responded by
gripping Hank's wrists forcefully. He pulled with steady force
as Hank's uniform alternately caught and then broke free from
twigs and branches in the brush. With a sudden surge, he pulled
Hank free and nearly fell backwards himself. As he regained his
balance, he looked down at Hank to see a trail of blood where his
legs should have been. A sinking feeling came over him, but an
equally strong reserve of resolve welled up from a source he
never knew he had.
With compassion, he said "Let me carry you." Hank looked up
plaintively. The tone in his friend's voice told him things were
worse than he'd thought. Walt continued, "I'll get you out of
here. In one swift movement he pulled Hank's torso up from the
ground and threw it across his shoulders. He steadied his friend
with one hand as he gripped his gun with the other. "They went
this way," he said with as much determination as he could muster.
He ran toward the sounds of his retreating platoon and soon
caught up to them. Breathlessly, he ran to his lieutenant.
"Hank's hurt. We gotta get a medic right away." The lieutenant,
only a few years older than the two PFCs, looked up at the tall
athletic man with mud in his hair and a heroic gleam in his eye,
but he said nothing. Walter persisted. "We gotta get him some
help... NOW!"
The lieutenant took Walter's arm and ushered him toward a waiting
jeep. "There's no hurry," he said sadly. Walter looked at him
with disbelief. As the lieutenant turned him toward the jeep,
Walter carefully laid his friend in the back. As he saw the life
draining out of his friend, a vision he'd seen too many times in
his young life, he grabbed the man by his shirt and started
shaking him violently. "Don't you die on me, Hank. Not now!!!
You're safe now!" he shouted. "You can go home!! Wake up!"
Assistant Director Skinner groaned and rolled toward the sound of
his answering machine. "Wake up. A.D. Skinner, wake up," a
computer-generated voice said from the tiny speaker. He jumped up
and ran to the phone. "Who is th " he started breathlessly. The
synth voice of the palm pilot rang in his ears. "A.D. Skin-ner.
The fu-ture is here. You made it pos-si-ble." The phone line
went dead and Skinner slammed the phone down. He started pacing
and running his hand over his scalp as if there were still hair
there. Stop it, Walter, he thought to himself. Think. After a
few seconds of calming himself, he pulled off his pajamas and
grabbed the jeans and T-shirt he had thrown into the hamper only
hours ago. He walked into his living room, banging his shin on
the coffee table. He yelped in pain and grabbed his shin. His
voice seemed too loud to him, then he realized why. Everything
was too quiet. He couldn't hear even the usual background hum of
air conditioners. He went to the window and saw that the whole
neighborhood had lost power. "This can't be about me," he thought
hopefully. "It's just a coincidence." Nevertheless, he felt his
way to the hall table and picked up his gun. He went to the front
door and put his ear against it. He couldn't hear a thing. He
opened the door to his hall closet and felt for his trench coat,
slipped on some shoes, then grabbed his flashlight from the
trench coat pocket. He opened the door and stepped into the
hallway, his left hand holding the flashlight, the right hand
holding his gun. He shined the flashlight to the right, then to
the left, then to the right again. He thought he heard a "click"
and whipped around to the left again. A neighbor's door opened,
and Skinner pointed his gun at the entrance.
With a loud buzz the emergency generator came on and the exit
signs lit up. In the dim red light Skinner saw a familiar form.
He flashed his light on the form's face. "Hello, Mrs. Robinson"
he said.
An elderly woman clutched the opening of her robe and shuffled
her slippered feet in place. "Mr. Skinner. What happened?"
Skinner answered in a kindly voice. "Just a problem with the
power. It looks like the whole neighborhood is affected. There's
nothing to worry about." The old woman went back into her
apartment and closed the door. Skinner exhaled and suddenly
realized he had not been breathing. Despite what he'd said to his
neighbor, he was plenty worried. Whoever had the palm pilot knew
his home phone number, and probably also knew where he lived. He
locked his apartment door and then headed for the emergency
stairs.
He passed no one on his way to the parking garage. His eyes were
by now somewhat accustomed to the darkness and he could make out
his car. Nobody seemed to be around, so he ran to his car, opened
the door, and slid into the driver's seat. He checked the back
seat and found it empty. He sighed and put the key in the
ignition. His cell phone rang and he had a heavy feeling in the
pit of his stomach. He answered it. The synth voice said "A.D.
Skin-ner can you see in the dark?"
Skinner did not answer. "We know where you are. You can-not
hide." Skinner ground his teeth but resisted the urge to answer.
The synth voice continued, "You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly's ba-by.
You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly. You can-not pro-tect hu-man-i-ty.
Re-sis-tance is fu-tile. Ha. Ha. Ha." and the connection ended.
...Scully's baby... Scully... the words rang in his ears. He
turned the ignition and squealed out of the parking garage...
He knew the route to D.C. like the back of his hand, but without
any light but his own and a few others' headlights, everything
looked different. He grabbed his cellphone and dialed the first
few digits of Scully's number, then thought better of it and put
his cellphone back in his pocket. He drove on for a few minutes
until coming to a Quik-E-Mart. He parked at the gas pumps and
then got out of the car. He shined his flashlight toward where he
thought a pay phone might be, and found one. He walked to it,
turned off his flashlight, and started dialing Scully's number.
Her line began to ring, and as he waited for an answer he turned
around and leaned against the phone stand, watching for any sign
that he was being followed. He wasn't a religious man, but he
found himself praying that she would answer.
Finally, he heard her voice say "Hello." And at that instant, his
car blew up.
CHAPTER 2
"HELLO?!?" Scully shouted into the phone. She turned to look at
Mulder, and said "What does this sound like to you?" She gave the
phone to Mulder and he listened for a few seconds. At first e
heard a quiet crackling sound, but then he heard a huge
explosion, followed by a much louder crackling sound. He also
thought he heard what could have been screams.
He handed the phone back to Scully. "I'm not sure."
Scully looked at her caller I.D. as she listened to the
crackling. "It's gotten worse" she said to Mulder. "Is it the
line?"
"I don't think so" answered Mulder. "I think I heard an
explosion."
Scully said "I think I heard one, too, but I wasn't sure."
Mulder leaned over to look at the caller I.D. "The call came from
Virginia, but I don't recognize he exchange."
Scully scanned the apartment. "Mulder, where's my cellphone?"
Mulder looked toward the table where she usually put it. "I
dunno. I haven't seen it in awhile."
Scully put her finger on the hang-up button then started making a
call. "Hi, it's Agent Scully of the FBI. I need to find the
location of a number" and she read out the number. She listened
for a minute as she grabbed a pen. Mulder came up with some paper
for her. She scribbled down the address as Mulder looked on.
"Thank you." Scully said, and then hung up the phone. "Well?" she
asked Mulder.
With obvious concern, he answered "That's in Crystal City." He
grabbed his car keys and the scrap of paper, then ran to the
door. "You stay with the baby. I'll call you when I know
anything." Scully watched him slam the door behind him, then
locked the locks. She looked nervously around the apartment, then
decided to check on the baby.
CHAPTER 3
The first explosion knocked Skinner into the parking lot next
door. The second explosion knocked him even further. He was
winded and lay face-down on the ground for a few seconds before
he was able to catch his breath. He rolled over and saw massive
flames towering high into the sky. In the distance he could hear
sirens approaching, and he could hear faint voices shouting for
help. He got to his feet and looked around him. Both lenses of
his glasses were cracked, giving the effect of a kaleidoscope.
The light from the flames put everything in high relief, so that
even after removing his glasses, Skinner could make out some tall
buildings and a small wooded area. He stumbled toward the wooded
area and found a fallen log to sit on. He looked back at the
scene and shook his head.
He needed to make a plan. A good marine makes a plan and carries
it out, he tried to tell himself. But he couldn't think of a
first step; he could only focus on the final outcome: death to
whoever did this, and destruction of the palm pilot. His
cellphone rang, and he eagerly answered it. "Don't worry about
coming after me. I'm coming after you," he said passionately.
"Sir?" said Mulder. "It's Mulder."
"Oh, hi, Mulder," said Skinner. "What phone are you calling
from?"
"My cellphone. I'm in my car, on my way to Crystal City. Was that
you calling Scully?"
"Yeah. I was trying to warn her..."
"Warn her of what?" Mulder had the sinking feeling he'd done
exactly the wrong thing. "Is she in danger?"
"I'm not sure now." Skinner answered, exasperated yet puzzled at
the same time. "I got a warning, but it may have been a trick."
"Where are you?" As he asked this Mulder's road turned southward
and he saw flames in the distance. "Never mind, I think I can
find you."
"Follow the light, Mulder" Skinner said. He put the phone in his
pocket and passed out.
Mulder shouted into the cellphone. "Skinner!" but heard nothing.
As soon as he'd put it back in his pocket it rang. He grabbed it
and said breathlessly "Hang on. Where are you?"
Scully answered, "Mulder, it's me."
Mulder said "I was talking to Skinner a second ago but got cut
off." A light from a helicopter swept across his windshield and
he craned his neck to get a look at the source. He wasn't sure,
but it looked military. "Scully, something big is going on here.
There's a huge fire in Arlington."
Scully put William down on the sofa and picked up the remote. On
the TV she saw a reporter behind a desk with "LIVE SPECIAL
REPORT" scrolling across the bottom of the screen. The reporter
said, "Information is sketchy at this point, but it looks as if
there's been an explosion in Crystal City. We're getting reports
of broken windows from as far away as Alexandria. All air
traffic has been rerouted from National to Dulles..."
Scully could hear Mulder shouting into the phone "Scully, are you
there?"
She answered, "Yes, I'm here, Mulder."
"Don't do that to me!" he yelled.
"Sorry, I just turned on the TV. It's hit the news already, but
they don't know much."
Traffic slowed down and Mulder slammed his brakes. A man in
military fatigues waved him to a stop. "Look Scully, I gotta go.
Call Agent Doggett and get him to stay with you, wouldya?" and he
hung up before she could answer.
CHAPTER 4
His sense of hearing came back first, but all the sounds he heard
were mixing together in his head in an aural kaleidoscope. He
lay on his back and struggled to focus on individual sounds,
eventually picking out the sounds of a crackling brush fire,
choppers overhead, shouts, footsteps in the underbrush...
"Medic!" one of the voices shouted. "There's another one over
here -- I think he's alive!" A rush of footsteps followed,
getting louder, stopping just a few inches away. He opened his
eyes just long enough to take in red, black and green images
swirling in a nauseating eddy, then shut them again groaned.
He felt two fingers on his neck. "This one's salvageable," a
voice near him said urgently. The same voice said "What's your
name, soldier?" with heartrending compassion. Skinner tried to
answer, but his jaw felt like it was on fire. He groaned and
tried to get up but felt a firm hand push down on his chest.
"Hold on" said the kindly voice. "We're gonna get you outta
here." The pressure on his ribs made him cry out, and the kindly
voice yelled "We've got broken ribs here. Maybe internal
injuries. Where's that stretcher?" he demanded.
Skinner felt a hand reaching into his shirt and the voice said
"Were you wearing you dog tags? I can't find them." Skinner
shook his head as best he could. A rush of footsteps came toward
them, and Skinner felt his body being rolled onto a stretcher. A
different voice said "We have to hurry. HQ's sending more
napalm." The two voices said together, "One, two three..." and
Skinner felt himself being lifted up. After a brief but very
bumpy ride he heard the sound of chopper blades and felt their
hot breeze brushing against his skin. The men lifted him into
the chopper and he heard a new voice yell over the blades "Last
one. You have to get out of here!" and the chopper rose out of
the jungle. Skinner turned his head and opened his eyes. He
could see the flames leaping up as if to race the chopper. And
that was the last thing he remembered.
CHAPTER 5
Scully hunted for her cellphone again, then gave up and dialed
Doggett's number on the apartment phone. Doggett's voice
answered after one ring. "Yeah. What?" He said with sleepy
curtness.
Scully answered "Agent Doggett, this is Agent Scully. I think
A.D. Skinner needs your help. Mulder's on his way to Crystal
City." She paused and considered what she should say next.
"Mulder wants you to watch out for me here, but I'm all right.
Really. Whatever's going on in Crystal City is more important."
Doggett woke up immediately. "I'm on it" he said efficiently,
and hung up the phone.
She hung up and paced the floor until the pain from William's
birth became unbearable. She sat on the sofa, put William in her
lap, and channel-surfed for more news of the fire. She wondered
why Mulder had told her to call Agent Doggett, and tried to
suppress the feeling that she'd just made a mistake. One station
showed an aerial view, with tall flames leaping up from a pitch
black background. The only other lights in Arlington were at the
Pentagon, making the Pentagon look like a big bulls-eye that had
narrowly been missed.
Scully was watching so intently that the knock on her door made
her leap. "Who is it?" she yelled, half-hoping it would be
Doggett. "It's me, sweetie." Scully went to the door, looked
through the peep-hole, then unlocked the door and opened it. "Hi
Mom." Maggie Scully came in and immediately started cooing over
the baby. "May I?" she asked, arms outstretched. Scully
grinned. "Sure." and handed the baby over to her mother. Her
mother cradled the baby and rocked side to side. "Something told
me to check on you. I saw the light, and I..."
"It's okay, Mom. I haven't been sleeping much lately." It
wasn't a complaint. She was glad to sacrifice a little sleep for
the baby she'd wanted so desperately.
"Where's Fox?" Maggie asked. Scully smiled at her mother's use
of Mulder's first name. She still doesn't get it, she thought.
"There" Scully said, and looked toward the images of flames on
the television.
Maggie Scully looked at her daughter with concern and compassion.
"Why don't you stay with me until he comes back. If he's dealing
with THAT" she nodded toward the TV "he'll be gone for a good
while. And I can take care of William while you get some sleep."
Scully hated to admit to herself that she liked the idea, but the
fear she'd been suppressing overcame her pride and she
immediately said "Let's go."
Scully wrote a note for Mulder as her mother put together an
overnight bag, then they headed down the stairs. Mrs. Scully's
car was already equipped with a car seat, facing backwards in the
rear seat. "Mom," Scully started. Maggie cut her off "I was a
girl scout, remember? Always prepared." She expertly strapped
William into the seat as Scully gingerly sat in the passenger
seat. A glint from the cup holder caught her eye and she reached
for the object. It was her cellphone. At about the same time,
neighbors heard thuds and muffled screams coming from Mrs.
Scully's house...
CHAPTER 6
John Doggett pulled on some clothes, grabbed his gun and his
notebook, and headed out the door. As he drove toward Crystal
City, he could see a glow on the horizon.
He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed a
preprogrammed number. A sleepy agent Reyes answered.
"Agent Doggett here. I hate to wake you. There was an explosion
in Crystal City, and I gotta bad feeling about this -- not what
you think, just a cop's instincts. A.D. Skinner lives in Crystal
City." As he listened he could hear sirens and the glow on the
horizon turned into a tall cylinder of fire. "I'm going down
there" he said. "And I could use some help."
"Just say where" Reyes answered, and they chose a meeting place
and time.
As Doggett crossed the bridge into Arlington, he saw the
choppers, the flashing lights of sirens, and the eerie darkness
all around. Smoke from the fire was starting to waft toward him,
and the light from its own flames gave it a pinkish color.
Soldiers waved him away from his route and he found himself being
directed to Arlington National Cemetery. He rolled down his
window and said "I'm with the FBI. I need to get to Crystal
City."
The soldier looked at his badge and said "No sir, we need you
here. Follow me." The soldier walked into the cemetery, with
Doggett following closely behind in his car. They passed dozens
of rows of plain white grave markers, and the sounds of choppers
and sirens grew quieter. Eventually the soldier signaled him to
stop at a row of graves that looked just like any other.
"Get out of the car" he ordered. Doggett followed him to a grave
that read "PFC Joseph McKinney, March 12, 1951 - August 27, 1969"
Doggett pulled his flashlight from his pocket and read the grave
marker. He turned around, saying "What does this..." and realized
the soldier was gone.
CHAPTER 7
He came to on a cot. His head hurt but he was able to take in
sights and sounds again. He saw people lying on cots and others
rushing back and forth tending to them. A woman with jet-black
hair and green eyes, wearing an olive green jumpsuit, was holding
his hand. She squeezed his hand when she saw his eyes open. "Hi,
soldier. Feeling better?"
He didn't answer for a few seconds, then said "Yes, I am." He
tried to get up but the woman said "Not so fast. You need to save
your strength."
"For what?" he asked.
"You're going back to your unit. We've done all we can for you
here. And we need your bed for the next wave." She had a wistful
look in her eyes.
"What unit?" he asked. She laughed a gentle and sympathetic
laugh. "You have a concussion. I'm not surprised you're confused.
You managed to give us all the details a few minutes ago, but I
guess you don't remember that, either?" He shook his head. She
said, "I gave you some morphine, too. Maybe that has something to
do with it." He groaned. "So I'm going to feel worse again in an
hour?" She whispered "I'll give you another shot right before you
go." The corners of his lips turned up and he closed his eyes.
Yes, he thought. Morphine...
He awoke on a stretcher, being carried toward a chopper. The
woman with the green eyes came running up behind them and stopped
the medics. She leaned over Skinner and said "Look me up after
the war." She put a piece of paper in his hand and folded his
fingers over it. He said "Wha---?" and she jabbed him in the arm
with a needle. The medics began running again and put Skinner in
the chopper. He could see his green-eyed nurse looking into the
chopper and as the chopper lifted she wiped away a tear.
They took a short trip, and Skinner looked at the piece of paper
"Nurse Betty Stowe Fort Wayne, Indiana." The chopper pilot put
him into a basket and soon he was being lowered to the ground. On
the ground he was met by a single marine, who untied his harness
and helped him to his feet. "Welcome back, Walt" he said.
Skinner squinted to look in the man's face. "Hank?" he asked in
surprise. "What are you doing h-- -" Skinner said. He stopped
mid-sentence when he realized where he was -- Arlington Cemetery.
Then he said, "Am I dead?"
Hank laughed. "Old soldiers never die..." and Skinner finished,
"They just fade away? That's just a metaphor. I SAW you die -- in
Nam!"
"You saw something, I'll grant you that." Hank started walking
and Skinner struggled to keep up.
Hank continued "Haven't you ever wondered why some soldiers
become heroes? or why some become the great leaders of history?"
Skinner said impatiently "What are you talking about?" Hank
seemed not to hear the interruption. "Why one man rises to the
top? or commits that one remarkable act of heroism? Why THAT man?
What makes him different? All soldiers have what it takes --
patriotism, training, courage..."
Skinner thought for a moment then offered an answer. "I guess
it's partly being in the right place at the right time, or being
the right person for the particular challenge." Hank interrupted,
"Yes, but why was THIS man the one? How did he get to the right
place, or become the right person?"
Skinner stopped walking, and Hank had to turn around to face him.
Skinner said, "Is this a riddle? Because I'm not in the mood for
games."
Hank chuckled and shook his head slightly. "It is a mystery,
isn't it? Look around you, and you'll find the answer." Skinner
turned 360 degrees, and all around him all he saw were rows and
rows of white grave markers, dimly glowing in the starlight,
their edges blurred by a light mist. He turned to look at Hank,
exasperation and confusion on Skinner's face, compassion and
serenity on Hank's. Hank said, "There ARE no great men, no heroes
who single-handedly change the world. Behind every great soldier
there are the thousands of great soldiers who came before him. No
man is an island, and no soldier fights alone."
Annoyance crept into Skinner's voice as he said "Why are you
telling me this?" Hank put his hand on Skinner's shoulder and
fixed his eyes on Skinner's.
"Remember those times in Nam when you should have died, yet you
survived?" Skinner looked at him skeptically and said "But..."
Hank interrupted. "And remember those times when you found
courage you never knew you had, strength you never had before,
reserves inside of you that you never knew were there?" Walter
nodded, remembering the last time he saw Hank. Hank continued,
"Your country needs you, Walter. Now more than ever. You have a
difficult fight ahead of you, but you will never be alone. Accept
help when it is offered. Your fellow marines will never let you
down." "But I'm not a marine anymore," Skinner objected.
"Walt, you may have left the marines, but the marines have never
left you." With that he turned and walked quickly into the mist.
Skinner tried to follow him, but he seemed to have vanished. Out
of the corner of his eye, Skinner saw a thin beam of light
sweeping across the graveyard. The light approached, then shone
on Skinner's face. Instinctively, he put up his hand to shield
his eyes.
"A.D. Skinner?" John Doggett said. "What the hell are you doing
here?"
Skinner put his hand down and nearly smiled. "Doggett! Am I glad
to see you!" Doggett took a step backwards, as if afraid that
Skinner might hug him. "I'm glad to see you too, sir. Were you
looking for me?"
"No, I assumed you were looking for me," Skinner replied. They
looked at each other for a second, as the light from Doggett's
flashlight fell on the nearest grave marker. It read "PFC Hank
Shelby. November 2, 1950 - August 27, 1969."
CHAPTER 8
Scully buckled her seatbelt and absent-mindedly ran her hand up
and down the portion above her shoulder. Her mother started the
car and pulled out into traffic. They drove in silence for a few
minutes, then Scully's spine suddenly straightened. "Mom! Where
are we?! This isn't the way to your house!!" she cried out.
"It's okay, Dana. I know what I"m doing," Mrs. Scully said
soothingly. Dana's response was to stare at her, wide-eyed. Mrs.
Scully looked at her casually. "You worry so much Dana."
Dana Scully, new mother and loving daughter, disappeared, and
Dana Scully, FBI agent, took her place. In one smooth movement
she pulled her gun and put it to the driver's temple. She cocked
the gun and said coldly, "Stop the car..." She paused but the car
did not slow down. "NOW" she commanded.
The driver pulled in to a vacant parking lot and said "Dana, put
the gun away." Dana's hand started shaking slightly. "Who are
you?" she said in the same stern tone. "And where are you taking
us?"
The driver smiled a phony smile and said in a saccharine voice
"I'm your mother, silly." Scully's mouth hung slightly open as
she thought what her next move should be.
Suddenly the baby started crying, and Dana looked at him. The
driver took this opportunity to grab the gun. With her other hand
she popped the latch on Scully's seatbelt. The passenger door
opened and a hand reached in. The hand grabbed Scully's arm. She
felt herself being jerked from the car and thrown onto the
ground. She landed hard on her backside, and before she could get
up, the man who had opened the door jumped in the car. Scully
thought she could hear the baby crying as the car sped away...
Mulder followed the flashlights of the soldiers posted along the
road. There were no other cars, and Mulder was beginning to
wonder where he was going. Even though he knew Arlington well, he
had become disoriented.
Finally, he rounded a corner and saw the glow of the Pentagon in
the distance. Soldiers continued waving him forward. He pulled
out his cellphone and dialed home. The machine picked up, and
Mulder immediately became concerned. He left a message, saying
"Scully, I'm in Arlington. I'm going to the Pentagon, and..."
suddenly his cellphone cut out. He shook his head. Of course --
jammed this close to the Pentagon.
An officer waved him to an entrance. He parked the car and got
out. He looked around and saw no one else, and no flashlights. He
couldn't help feeling flattered and a bit giddy. He was sure he
would get some answers to what had happened in Crystal City, and
maybe the answers to some of his old questions, too.
The officer led him into the central courtyard and told him to
sit at a table. CSM appeared and sat across from him. Mulder said
sarcastically "How nice to see an old friend here." CSM took a
drag on his Morely but said nothing. "I thought you were dead"
Mulder said. CSM replied, "Who says I'm not?"
CHAPTER 9
PFC Walter Skinner couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes
he saw a series of images from his friend Hank's last day on
Earth. Opening his eyes wasn't much better. Everything he saw
reminded him of Hank. Pulling his blanket over his legs, he
thought of the body bag now warming the legless corpse of a great
friend and soldier. Even good memories were no comfort. The rifle
next to his cot reminded him of their infamous shooting contests.
He should have let Hank win one. Every time Hank challenged
Skinner's renowned eagle eye, the company set up a contest, even
though everybody knew Skinner was the best shot. Afterwards, Hank
vowed to get Skinner "next time," and everyone whooped as if
there was a chance he actually could. Now there would be no next
time.
Skinner got out of bed, grabbed his rifle, and left his tent. He
walked around camp for a few minutes, until his eyes had become
so accustomed to the dark that it seemed like daylight to him. He
had taken this walk many times after the death of a comrade, but
this time he needed it more than ever. He stood "at ease," a pose
that was by now actually comfortable, and looked up at the stars.
Whenever times got difficult in Nam, he looked up at the stars
and named as many as he could. "Orion's belt" was just over the
Southwest horizon, shining more brightly than usual in the
moonless night. His father had taught him many of those names,
and it was a comfort to him to know that at least one thing in
his life was the same. This night, he couldn't help remembering
all the other lives he'd privately grieved under the stars, and
the accumulated grief of all his losses started to weigh on him.
After a few minutes he realized his cheeks were wet from a salty
stream that had sneaked there without his permission. "Geez,
Walter" he thought to himself. "You're a marine, for Pete's sake.
Get a grip." He took a deep breath, wiped away the tears, and
grasped his rifle a bit tighter. With a long sigh, he started
back to his tent. From the corner of his eye he saw a tall lanky
figure approaching.
"Hank?" he whispered.
The figure didn't answer, but put a finger to its lips and
beckoned him to follow. Wanting desperately to believe it was
Hank, Walter followed. The figure turned a corner and disappeared
behind a tent. Walter walked silently toward the tent, and as he
turned the corner he saw a much smaller figure. It was a child,
about twelve years old, pulling the pin on a hand grenade. As the
child's arm reached back for the wind-up, Skinner raised his gun
to his shoulder and fired. Through the sight, he saw the blood
and brains of the child splatter, glistening in the starlight. A
second later, the grenade exploded, still in the child's hand.
Skinner stood mute and motionless as men rushed around him. His
c.o. walked up to him and asked, "Did you see what happened,
private?" although he knew from Skinner's expression that he had.
"Yessir," Skinner answered mechanically.
The c.o. waited for a moment then said, "Well...?"
"I shot a child," he answered.
"Was it a boy or a girl?" the c.o. asked.
"Does it matter?" Skinner replied. He turned and walked back to
his tent, laid down and slept dreamlessly for twelve hours.
"A.D. Skinner, sir..." John Doggett's voice penetrated his
consciousness and he opened his eyes. He was in a hospital
emergency room. From the other side of the privacy curtain, John
Doggett said, "A.D. Skinner?"
"Yeah," Skinner said gruffly.
"Agent Doggett here, sir. Do you mind if I come in?"
Skinner appreciated Doggett's courtesy. On the way to the
hospital Doggett had respected Skinner's reluctance to talk about
what had happened. He still wasn't ready to talk about it, but he
knew Doggett would not pressure him. Doggett glanced at Skinner,
and his cop's eye needed only a second to take in all the
bruises, contusions, and freshly stitched cuts on Skinner's body.
He quickly looked away, and found a chair. He sat down and said,
"Sir, I tried calling Agent Scully like you asked, but she ain't
home. I tried Mulder, too, but he ain't home either."
Skinner said "Did you try their cellphones?" Doggett nodded.
Skinner grew agitated. "Scully was home when I called her to warn
her about what I believe to be a threat to her and her baby."
Doggett's eyes widened at the mention of the baby he'd dedicated
months of his life to protect.
Skinner grabbed his shirt and said "I think I'm done here. Let's
go." He dressed as quickly as he could, considering his
condition, and the two men left the E.R.
They pounded on Scully's door, and when there was no answer
Skinner nodded to the super to unlock it. Inside they found her
not to Mulder, but nothing seemed out of place. They called
Maggie Scully's house, but a mechanical voice said the line was
out of order. They immediately left for Maggie Scully's house,
and called Agent Reyes en route.
When they arrived they found the house dark, but the door
unlocked. They went in, and with their flashlights were able to
see signs of trouble -- overturned furniture, broken glass,
papers all over the floor... At the back of the house they found
a bound, gagged, and unconscious Maggie Scully in a heap on the
floor.
CHAPTER 10
Scully groaned and rolled onto her side. She could feel the blood
oozing from the stitches that had opened when she fell. She put
her hands on the ground and started to push herself up. She got
herself halfway there when she started feeling dizzy and her arms
started to collapse. As she started falling she suddenly felt
hands under her armpits lifting her up. She got to her feet and
looked to see who had helped her.
"Missy?! Daddy?!" Scully couldn't believe what she was seeing.
She was horrified yet also strangely comforted. Her father said,
"It's okay, Starbuck. We're here to help you."
"But how?" Scully asked.
Her father answered, "I've been watching out for you for years,
and now Missy has too. Couldn't you feel our presence?"
"Well, maybe... there were a few times... but that was just
wishful thinking," Scully said.
"So you got your wish" her father said cheerfully. "Who do you
think guided Mulder the night William was born?"
Missy added "And who showed the rescue planes where to find you
and Mulder in Antarctica?"
Scully nodded a grudging acceptance, and as she continued to lose
blood she was having trouble thinking of a rational explanation
for what was happening. They continued walking on the deserted
street until they found their way to a pay phone. "You'll be fine
now, hon" her father said. Melissa picked up the phone and dialed
911 as their father helped Scully to steady herself on the
phone's stand. Their father said "C'mon, Missy. Let's see how my
grandson in doing..." and they walked off into the night.
Later, Scully lay in her recovery room, an I.V. in her arm and
oxygen tubes in each nostril. As she struggled to consciousness,
she could feel a hand over hers. She looked up, expecting to see
Mulder, but instead saw his mother. She closed her eyes, hoping
she was dreaming.
"Dana," Teena Mulder said softly. "Don't go away." Scully
squeezed her eyes closed, as if doing this would block out sounds
as well. Mrs. Mulder continued, "We need to talk."
Scully reluctantly opened her eyes. "Dana, I know you're worried
about William..." Tears came to Scully's eyes but she said
nothing. "I worried about Samantha, too. But this is important
-- more important than any individual, even a baby."
"The aliens," Scully said with resignation.
"We can't let them win," Mrs. Mulder said firmly. "We have to
beat them, at any cost." Tears flowed freely down Scully's
cheeks, and Teena Mulder wiped them away. "A few of us must make
a great sacrifice, or else we will all be sacrificed. When you
understand what's at stake you can't be selfish."
"I know," Scully whispered. "William's life has a purpose, and
he's fulfilling that purpose now." She paused and drew her chair
closer. "No child lives only to give their parents' lives
meaning. Each life has its own meaning and its own purpose."
Scully bit her lip then said, "And your purpose? Why are you
here?"
Mrs. Mulder answered, "ALL of humanity has a stake in this. At
one time I stopped caring about my own life. But life itself? I
never stopped caring about that. You need help and I am here to
help you. For everybody's sake."
CHAPTER 11
Mulder looked at CSM with suspicion. "So, you ARE dead?" CSM
flicked an ash onto the ground and said, "Why would that be
difficult for you to accept? You've witnessed so many paranormal
events, why doubt this one?"
Mulder seemed flustered. "Well, I... " He paused and mustered his
defiance. "I have no reason to trust you, for one."
"On the contrary. You have every reason to trust me. What have I
got to gain from lying to you?"
"What have you ever had to gain with your lies?" Mulder answered.
"You protected inhumane experiments on unwilling subjects. You
would sacrifice anyone or anything to further your goals."
"As would you," CSM said smugly. He put out his cigarette and lit
another.
Mulder said, "And another thing, ghosts don't smoke."
CSM exhaled, sending a stream of smoke into Mulder's face. "No?
Then perhaps I'm not a ghost."
"So what are you? A shadow? a spook? a ghoul? a specter? a
phantom? an incorporeal entity? a wandering spirit? a dybbuk?..."
"So many questions. tsk tsk "CSM flicked his ash, then held his
cigarette vertically in front of him, studying it carefully.
"What happens when the light goes out of a life? Does it become
an ash or an ember? Does it disappear completely?" He took
another drag, and spoke through the smoke he exhaled, "Or does it
get sucked up into a larger life form?"
Mulder looked at him, wide-eyed. "But I can see you -- why?"
"Why?" CSM took another drag and let the smoke come out slowly as
he spoke. "Because I want you too..." He smiled, "As it has
always been with us."
CSM said, "You and I share a special bond, Fox. I watched you
grow up; I've watched your career, and I've guided you to the
answers you sought."
Mulder said contemptuously, "What answers? All you ever guided me
to were lies." CSM put out his cigarette, absently twisting it
in the ashtray long after it was out. His eyes bored into
Mulder's. "And how do you know they are lies?"
Mulder clenched his teeth and stared back in defiance. CSM
continued, "If they have been lies, it is because you asked the
wrong questions."
"What questions would you have preferred?" Mulder asked.
CSM put the palms of his hands on the table, then turned his
hands over. "Like opening a book, a question defines its own
answer. Only when it is too late do you realize you were reading
the wrong book."
"Okay, so what is the *right* book?" Mulder asked sarcastically.
CSM stood up. "Come, let me take you to the library," and his arm
swept around in a grand arc, leading Mulder's eyes to all five
walls of the Pentagon courtyard. All the windows were lit, and in
each one a silhouetted figure was visible in the center. Mulder
stood up and the two entered the Pentagon.
CHAPTER 12
Skinner and Doggett untied Maggie Scully and rolled her onto her
back. As Skinner took her pulse, Doggett called for help on his
cellphone. Skinner knelt next to Maggie Scully and looked up at
Doggett. "Check the rest of the house," he ordered. As Doggett
left the room, he used his left hand to open Mrs. Scully's eyes,
and his right to shine his flashlight into them. Her pupils were
equal and reactive, a good sign, and about as much as he knew
about first aid in this situation. Trying to fight off his
feelings of helplessness, he shone the flashlight around the
kitchen, until he found a towel. He ran cold water over it, then
placed it on Maggie's forehead, remembering the time years ago
someone special had done that for him.
Maggie's eyes fluttered, then opened. She could see Skinner only
as a silhouette, and said "Daddy?"
"Hardly!" he snorted, then caught himself and lowered his voice.
"It's A.D. Skinner, Mrs. Scully. How are you feeling?" he asked
tenderly. "Do you know where you are?"
"Mmmmmmm... I'm not sure. I was having the strangest dream -- my
parents were here. They were telling me to hang on... that I had
something important to do."
Goose bumps went up Skinner's spine. "I understand," he said,
trying to produce a smile and failing miserably.
Maggie sighed and reached for his hand, finding comfort in his
touch and in his voice. "Thank you," she said simply, looking
into his eyes.
He squeezed her hand gently and answered, "You're welcome."
They shared an awkward moment of silence until Agent Doggett came
back and announced, "The rest of the house checks out. No
additional victims. No perps. No nothin. Phone line's been cut,
power was cut off." He reached out and flipped a light switch.
Bright flourescent lights flickered on, making Skinner and Maggie
Scully groan, shielding their eyes. Doggett continued "But I
switched it back on."
When their eyes had adjusted to the light they saw that the floor
was smeared with a greenish fluid.
CHAPTER 13
PFC Walter Skinner changed overnight from an able, sometimes
enthusiastic soldier, to a zombie-like drug user. His buddies
understood. They missed Hank, too.
This night he patrolled the area on foot, sometimes shuffling,
sometimes stumbling. But despite his declining mental state, he
clung to his routine duties. They gave him a sense of order in a
senseless world. He listened carefully for sounds of danger, and
hearing nothing, he took his opportunity to gaze up at the stars,
searching for the serenity they had once given him. Suddenly he
felt as if he'd been punched in the back. He lost his balance
and stumbled forward.
As his body fell forward, his spirit seemed to float upward. He
looked down on his unconscious body, and found the peace he had
sought in the stars.
Two weeks later he woke up in a Saigon hospital. He felt hot and
dry, and didn't want to move. Muffled moans emanated from a
distant part of the hospital, and Walter was powerless to block
out the sounds. From another direction he could hear a radio
playing Led Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused." It was Walter's
favorite song. He couldn't relate to most of the lyrics --
"Wanted a woman, never bargained for you" sounded downright
ungrateful to a lonely marine -- but the haunting, repetitive
descent of the bassline and the languid strain of the Robert
Plant's voice cried out as he never could. He pressed the back
of his head against his pillow and closed his eyes. "Dazed and
Confused." That was Walter Skinner.
He could hear efficient footsteps approaching, and he tried
desperately to feign sleeping. But she was onto him. "Walter,"
she said in a no-nonsense, yet compassionate tone. He felt the
gentle press of her fingers on his wrist. "I know you're awake."
He opened his eyes. She had long, jet-black hair and bright
green eyes. She smiled down at him and placed a cold, wet cloth
on his forehead. "It's about time, you goldbricker." He tried
to smile, but his cracked lips had other ideas.
"You're very lucky, Walter. They left you for dead, but they
underestimated your will to live."
Walter grimaced. He hadn't felt the will to live in weeks. He
looked up at her, and it seemed to him that there was a glow
surrounding her. A light shone from behind her, creating a golden
border at the edges of her hair. He felt he'd never seen such a
beautiful creature. He became instantly alert, and took in the
name on her badge.
"Nurse Stowe" he started. She recognized the signs -- they all
did this -- and straightened her spine.
"Private," she said in a businesslike voice. "I need to talk to
you."
Skinner nodded. He suddenly realized he hadn't checked for all
of his limbs, and he forgot all about her beauty.
"Soldier, I've seen dozens come in here just like you. Do you
know why you've been here two weeks?" She took in the look of
surprise on his face. "Yes, you've been here for two weeks. It
took that long to get the drugs out of your system."
Skinner closed his eyes, preparing himself for a lecture. "I
know they're dangerous..." he said. She cut him off. "Soldier,
you have a job to do. It isn't here. You are needed at home.
You MUST take care of yourself until your moment arrives."
Skinner looked confused. "They're sending you home. Your injury
is serious, but it won't stop you from serving your country.
Only you can do that. You are your own worst enemy..." Skinner
sighed. Yes, this was what he expected. She continued, "You
will have a much more dangerous enemy to face later. You need to
prepare yourself to battle this enemy." Skinner looked confused.
"Walter," she said firmly, "We're sending you home. Stay clean.
Prepare for the war to end all wars."
"World War III?" he asked. She shook her head. "Bigger than
that. Don't let us down."
She turned and walked away, leaving Walter to ponder what she'd
said. In a few minutes another nurse approached his bed and took
his pulse.
"How are you feeling, soldier?" She asked.
"A... a little better," he answered. "If you don't mind, could I
see Nurse Stowe for a minute."
The new nurse blanched. "Betty Stowe?" she asked. Skinner
nodded.
The nurse dropped his wrist and said with forced compassion, "She
died. About three months ago."
CHAPTER 14
CSM held the door for Mulder as they entered the Pentagon's
interior corridors. He led him through a maze of hallways crowded
with military men and women in every type of uniform. They were
walking quickly and purposefully, as if to some important
assignment. CSM and Mulder were walking very slowly by
comparison.
"You were never in the military, were you Fox?" CSM said calmly.
"No, I wasn't," Mulder answered.
"But you became a soldier in your own way, didn't you?"
Mulder couldn't help wondering what CSM's agenda was. "I guess
you could say that," he answered reluctantly.
I did say that," CSM said matter-of-factly as he lit a cigarette.
With the fresh cigarette in his lips, he said "You rather enjoy
fighting. It's in your nature."
Mulder felt boxed in. If he agreed, he'd be saying he was a
fighter. If he denied it, he'd be arguing with CSM, and CSM would
use that against him to prove his point. He pursed his lips and
stopped walking. "Get to the point" he said sharply.
CSM said, "That's my boy. Giving orders is much easier for you
than following them." He took a drag and continued walking. He
turned around and started walking backwards. "I was never much
for following orders myself." And he turned around and continued
walking. Mulder waited a few seconds then ran to catch up to CSM.
"Okay, what do you want?" Mulder asked.
CSM said "It's not what I want. It's what you want. You want to
defeat your enemy. I'm showing you how you can do just that."
Mulder said sarcastically, "You lying SOB. You promised me
information, and now you're just leading me by the nose." CSM
took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Tsk tsk tsk. Such
impatience." They continued walking in silence for a few minutes,
until they came to an unmarked door.
CSM nodded toward the door and said, "The truth is in there."
Mulder put his hand on the knob and tried to turn it, but it was
locked. He looked at CSM in annoyance, but CSM ignored his look
and turned the doorknob. The door swung open noiselessly.
CSM turned the light on in the room then held the door open for
Mulder. Mulder took a few tentative steps into the room. He
looked around and saw only cardboard boxes on metal storage
shelves. He walked up to one and pulled it off its shelf. It was
unmarked on all sides, and the top was sealed.
"Go ahead, open it," CSM said with the pride of a father giving a
beloved child a birthday gift.
He handed Mulder a letter opener, and Mulder slit the top seal.
He set the box on the floor and peered into it.
Inside the box was a random pile of guns, strewn as if packed
quickly. They were different sizes, styles and colors. Mulder
looked back at CSM. "What th---?" "I've offered you the Truth
you have sought, but there's one thing you must do first." CSM
said as he stamped out his cigarette. Mulder picked up one of the
guns and looked it over. CSM continued "It's untraceable. No
serial number. No ballistics record. No record of it entering
this building, and there will be no record of it leaving."
Mulder was irate. "Whatever it is you want me to do, you can
forget it. I'll not do your dirty work for you." He threw the gun
back into its box.
"You won't be doing it for me," CSM said as he took a fresh
cigarette out of its pack. "You'll be doing it for your son."
Mulder said "But I don't have a..." then suddenly realized what
CSM was saying. "You mean Scully's baby?" CSM raised his eyebrows
as he lit his cigarette. The pitch of Mulder's voice raised as he
said "What have you done with William?"
"Nothing" CSM said as he exhaled his smoke. "Why, should I?"
Mulder dove for CSM, but CSM stepped aside casually, letting
Mulder hit his head on a wall. Mulder got up quickly and started
to grab for CSM, but CSM grabbed his wrist and stared into his
eyes. Mulder's body went limp, but he couldn't resist staring
back into CSM's eyes. "I understand," he said serenely. CSM held
out a gun for him and Mulder took it.
Then Mulder put the barrel of the gun into his mouth and pulled
the trigger.
A Few Good Men, Part 2
Where we last left our heroes:
After receiving a phonically from the palm pilot, Skinner
believes that Scully and new-born William are in trouble. When
he stops to call her his car explodes, and he experiences a
series of flashbacks to Vietnam, including visitations from his
dead friend, Hank. Doggett sees the flames and finds Skinner
with the help of a mysterious soldier. Mulder heads to Crystal
City to help Skinner, but soldiers direct him to the center
courtyard of the Pentagon, where he encounters CSM. Scully's
mother drops in to check on her and William and offers to let
them stay with her. After driving some distance Scully figures
out that the woman is not her mother, and the shape-shifter
throws Scully out of the car, escaping with William. Scully
makes it to a phone with the help of her deceased father and
sister, and in the hospital is visited by Mulder's deceased
mother. CSM leads Mulder to a room in the Pentagon, where he
convinces Mulder to put the barrel of a gun into his mouth and
pull the trigger.
CHAPTER 15
Three geeky men poked their heads into a quiet hospital room.
Scully beamed when she saw them. "Hi guys," she said. "How did
you know I'd be here?"
"A woman called us..." Byers started.
"From this room," Langley continued.
"And told us you were here," Frohike finished.
"It wasn't me," Scully answered. "But whoever it was, I'm glad
she did. What else did she say?"
"Just that you needed our help," Langley said, reaching for her
hand. She let him take it, then winced as Frohike approached to
take her other hand.
"Guys, I'm okay," Scully assured them. "I took a little beating
earlier, but I'm fine now. It's William you should worry about."
All three faces blanched simultaneously. "What happened?" Byers
asked breathily. "Where is he?"
"I don't know," Scully said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Someone posing as my mother drove off with him. She was a
shape-sh---"
"Oh, sh---" Langley said through clenched teeth.
"Don't worry, we'll find him," said Frohike soothingly as he
stroked her hand.
She pulled her hands free from theirs and clasped them together.
"I got a call," she started, then told them the whole story.
When she was finished, she sighed deeply and said, "What do you
think?"
"I think it sounds like there were a lot of phone calls involved
here..." Langley offered. He leaned to one side and let his
backpack fall gently to the floor. Pulling out a laptop
computer, he asked thoughtfully, "Your cellphone is missing? For
how long?"
Scully sniffled and thought for a moment. "A day, maybe two..."
She gasped as she came to a sudden realization. "I think I left
it in Democrat Hot Springs."
"What phone numbers are programmed into it?" Frohike asked,
trying in vain to reach for Scully's hand.
"My home number, Mulder's home, his cell, A.D. Skinner, my
mother..." she listed.
"If I can hack into your provider's closest node, then check on
recently dialed numbers..." Langley said more to himself than to
anyone in the room. Frohike and Byers looked over his shoulder
as he pounded madly at his keyboard.
After a few minutes, Langley shouted out, "Yes!" and turned the
computer to face Scully. "Those numbers?" he asked.
Scully nodded. "And the timing is right... My mother, then
Skinner..." She looked up in horror as she had a terrifying
thought. "If my mother wasn't really my mother, then was it
really Mulder in my apartment?"
There's one way to find out, Frohike said, pulling his cellphone
from his jeans pocket and handing it to Scully. She took it
gingerly, wiped the earpiece on her sheets, and started dialing.
CHAPTER 16
At the Pentagon, Deputy Director Kersh looked on as two
attendants loaded a corpse into an unmarked van and slammed each
of it's the double doors. He heard a faint ring sounding from
the inside of the van, and banged on the door. One of the
attendants opened it, holding a loudly ringing cellphone. Kersh
recognized it at once as FBI-issue equipment and held out his
hand for it. "Hello?" he answered.
"Mulder, it's me," Scully's voice sounded in the phone. "I need
your help."
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Agent Scully, but
Agent Mulder will be unable to help you," Kersh said coldly.
"He's on his way to the morgue."
"Can you get him a message?" Scully asked frantically.
"Not where he's going," Kersh said, then he hit "end" and put the
phone in his pocket.
Scully laid back on her hospital bed, her face knotted in
confusion. She hit "end" on Frohike's phone then dialed
Skinner's cell number.
"Skinner here," she heard after several rings.
"Sir, have you seen Agent Mulder?" Scully asked.
Skinner held the phone to his chest then looked to Agent Doggett.
"Have you seen Agent Mulder tonight?" Doggett pursed his lips
and shook his head. After putting his phone to his ear again
Skinner answered, "No, why?"
"Kersh answered Mulder's cellphone and told me he's on his way to
the morgue... He was looking for you when he left the house..."
Scully stopped mid-phrase and dropped the cellphone.
"What's wrong?" Byers asked, approaching Scully's bed. In answer
her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears. "No..." Byers
said soothingly, taking her hand. "I'm sure it's not what you
think..." Scully tried to grin through her tears, then took a
deep breath and picked up her phone.
"I'm not sure what's happening," she said to Skinner.
"Agent Scully, I'm in an ambulance with your mother," Skinner
said. "Where are you? Can you meet us at...?" He mouthed to
Doggett 'Where are we going?' Doggett mouthed back 'Washington
General' Skinner continued, "Washington General? in about..."
he looked at his watch, then out the rear window of the
ambulance. "In about five minutes?"
"I'm there now, sir," Scully answered. "Wait -- are you sure
it's my mother?"
"We found her at her house, unconscious and gagged, but she's
coming around," Skinner looked appraisingly at the slightly
older woman. "Want to talk to her?"
He handed the phone to Maggie, and Scully said, "If you're my
mother, what did you give me for Christmas when I was ten?"
"A Barbie Doll," Maggie said, "with a hot pink convertible and a
Ken doll to keep her company."
Scully sighed. "And when I was twelve?"
"A delicate cross, that you always wear," Maggie said.
"And what did I *really* want," Scully demanded.
"The Hotel California. Any other questions," Maggie asked.
"No, I guess not," Scully said softly. "Are you okay, Mom?"
"I'm in good hands," Maggie assured her. "I'll see you soon,
honey."
"Mom!" Scully shouted. "Don't hang up!"
"What?" Maggie asked, her eyes on Skinner's.
"William's been kidnapped... by someone who looked like you.
Tell A.D. Skinner they were on their way toward Silver Spring on
..."
Maggie handed the phone to Skinner, who said, "Hello?"
Scully repeated her information, making her best guess about the
direction her mother's car was taking. "What's the license
number?" Skinner asked, reaching for a pen.
"I don't remember," Scully said.
"Maggie? How are you feeling?" Skinner asked. "We need you to
look for your car."
"If this is about William..." Maggie answered immediately.
"We'll find him, Agent Scully," Skinner said soothingly. "I'll
call you on your cell when---"
"No!" Scully shouted. "Whoever has William has my cellphone.
Call me at the hospital," she demanded.
"Okay---" Skinner started.
"Wait!" Frohike interrupted, grabbing the phone from Scully.
"Langley's onto something."
"I've located your cellphone! It's in Bethesda, just east of a
Metro stop." He looked up in a panic. "National Institutes of
Health."
CHAPTER 17
Doggett turned to the ambulance driver and said, "FBI business.
Turn right at the first..." But before he could finish, the
attendant in the rear grabbed Doggett from behind, cutting off
his air at the neck. As the agent struggled in his seat, Skinner
leapt onto the attendant's back and tried in vain to pull him
down. Despite Skinner's size, the attendant easily threw him
backwards onto the floor of the ambulance.
Skinner landed with a loud thud and rolled to his side. Maggie
Scully ripped off her restraints and stooped to help him up.
"Stay back, Mrs. Scully," Skinner warned. "You don't know what
you're dealing with here."
He ransacked the cabinets, looking for something that could be a
weapon, until he felt a delicate feminine hand on his arm. A
second hand placed defibulator paddles in his hand, then patted
it encouragingly. "Mrs. Scully..." Skinner started, but when he
turned around he saw a familiar dark-haired military nurse
smiling at him. "This will work, Walt," she whispered.
Encouraged, he grabbed the paddles and placed them on either side
of the man's head. He could feel the surge of electricity pass
through the paddles as the attendant started to shudder. A
second surge made the man release his grip on Doggett's neck and
turn menacingly toward Skinner. The dark-haired woman threw open
the back doors, and as Skinner struggled with the man, he managed
to work his way closer to the doors.
Doggett, catching his breath, looked carefully at the driver, who
had hunched forward as if to guard the steering wheel. The hair
on his own neck bristled as Doggett saw a familiar lump at the
back of the driver's neck. Doggett grabbed for the steering
wheel, and the driver reacted by putting his hand out and
squeezing Doggett's neck with super-human strength.
Instinctively, Doggett grabbed the driver's arm and struggled to
pull free. Maggie heard his gasps and rushed forward, pushing
against the arm with her own strength, but Doggett's face had
turned bright red, and his tongue was thrust forward as the pair
lost their battle against the extraordinary man.
As the driver easily handled the struggling pair, he increased
speed, finding easy access on the late-night streets, when
suddenly the headlights flashed on the image of a young boy,
standing motionless in the street. The driver swerved, throwing
Skinner and the attendant in the back against the back doors.
Skinner maneuvered himself behind his opponent and kicked him out
the doors, then hopped to his feet and moved to the front to help
Doggett.
Suddenly, the boy appeared again in the ambulance's headlights,
and again, the driver swerved. "What the---" the driver yelled
as he regained control.
Skinner grabbed the defibulator paddles and slapped them against
the man's head, then glanced backward and saw the dark-haired
nurse nodding. The driver shook his head side-to-side trying to
shake the paddles and let go of Doggett's throat. As Doggett
gasped for air, the driver shook the paddles from his head and
gunned the accelerator. Doggett watched in horror as the
ambulance sped through the streets of D.C. He tried to grab the
steering wheel, but the driver slammed him against the passenger
door, knocking what little wind he'd regained, out of him.
As Doggett caught his breath the boy appeared in the headlights
again, and Doggett screamed "LUKE!!!" The driver hit the
accelerator, speeding toward the boy. With superhuman strength,
Doggett pulled on the driver's arm, forcing the vehicle off the
road. They jumped the curb and crashed into a dense planting of
shrubs fronting a dark brick townhouse. Seeing his opportunity,
Skinner pulled out the defibulator paddles and immediately felt
the shuddering of the driver's convulsions. The driver grabbed
the door handle and leapt out, running several feet before
collapsing in the middle of the road, his body still convulsing.
CHAPTER 18
Agent Reyes waited at the appointed corner but after several
minutes with no sign of John Doggett, she decided to follow her
nose -- literally. Smoke from the fire wafted toward her, and
she could see the rapidly diminishing glow in the sky to her
South. As she opened her car door, her cellphone rang.
"Monica Reyes," she answered automatically.
"Hi Monica, it's John Doggett."
She sighed. "John, where are you?"
"Long story, Monica, but I need you to meet me at the National
Institutes of Health in Bethesda. Know where that is?"
"Uh... no," she said cautiously, eyeing the shadows around her.
"I'll find it," she promised, then disconnected the phone and put
it into her pocket. Drawing her weapon, she yelled. "Stop. I'm
a federal agent!"
A tall figure approaching from the shadows called out, "So am I!
At least I was."
Reyes kept her gun pointed at the silhouetted man as it took a
few more steps toward her. "Put your hands up! Over there," she
gestured toward a street lamp with her gun. "Go into the light."
"That's very funny, actually," the figure said, still
approaching.
"I mean it!" Reyes' stone-cold expression didn't waver as she
sighted over the barrel of her gun. "There," she waved the gun
forcefully. "NOW!"
"Okay, okay," the figure laughed, as he sauntered into the pool
of light.
"Agent Mulder?" she asked tentatively. "Did John Doggett send
you here too?"
"No, Fate did," he answered. "Is that your car?" he asked. She
nodded a "yes," and he ordered, "Let's go then."
Reyes opened the passenger door then stood holding it as he
climbed in. "Do you mind telling me what's going on?" she
demanded.
"I'll explain on the way," he said, then when she didn't move he
added, "Get in! There isn't much time!"
She slammed the door and ran around to her side. "Do you know
the way to the National Institutes of Health?" she asked after
starting the engine.
"That way," Mulder nodded.
"Which way?" Reyes asked, but Mulder interrupted her angrily.
"Over there... GO!" he shouted.
She peeled out of the parking lot and followed his orders. After
merging onto a highway she turned to him and asked, "NOW can you
tell me what this is about?"
"Do you believe that the dead care about the living?" Mulder
asked cryptically.
"In some cultures ancestor worship is a basic tenet of..." Reyes
began academically.
"Yes, Asia especially," Mulder finished. "And in Christianity
there's a belief that the dead will rise at the end-times..."
"You're not saying this is the end-times, are you?"
"What if both beliefs are partly true?" Mulder suggested. "What
if the dead watch over their descendants and friends, and that
during times of crisis, or the end-times if you will, they return
to help them?"
Reyes chewed her lower lip as she thought about his idea. "I
suppose anything is possible. Of course you have a reputation
for being willing to believe anything..."
"And of being right," he pointed out.
"Even if what you say is true, what does that have to do with
us?" Reyes asked as she checked her rearview mirror. She
changed lanes then continued, "I was called out on an explosion
case, not a sighting."
Mulder smirked and pulled a few sunflower seeds from his coat
pocket. He tossed them around in the palm of his hand then put
one in his mouth. "Agent Doggett should know by now that no
X-Files case is what it appears at first."
"This is an X-File?"
"The X-File to end all X-Files," Mulder nodded. "And what if
ancestors are the source of visions, of ESP, of remote viewing?
What if they have the power to plant images in the minds of those
they have a connection to? And what if I told you I'd seen such
a vision?"
Reyes rolled her eyes and quipped, "And people think *my* ideas
were goofy."
"But you believe me. I can tell," Mulder said smugly.
"Yes," she sighed. "I don't know why, but I believe you. I
believe it's possible anyway."
"Here's another thought," he said, his eyes on the road, his
voice so distant that Reyes wondered if he was still talking to
her. "What if they're all... all the dead of all time... What
if they're gathering to help save humanity, using all their
powers as weapons in this great war?"
"You mean now? They're gathering now?" she asked. "What war?
And why now of all times?"
He snapped to at the sound of her voice. "Maybe they've done it
other times too. Who knows? But the dead are with the living
now." He looked at her significantly, "You know it's true."
CHAPTER 19
The National Institutes of Health complex included dozens of
brick buildings surrounded by lush landscaping. "Where now?"
Doggett asked frantically? "He could be anywhere!"
Skinner switched off the engine, then scanned the campus, looking
for lights. He sighed in frustration. "He may not even be
above-ground."
Doggett pulled his phone from his pocket and hit a pre-programmed
number. "Monica? We're there. What's your E.T.A.?"
Skinner ground his teeth, studying the terrain as he
half-listened to Doggett's end of the conversation.
"Agent Mulder's with her," Doggett announced as he returned the
phone to his pocket. "He says we should meet them at the Metro
entrance and he'll show us where to go."
Skinner pulled the van to a stop near the Metro and looked around
warily. "I don't like this, Agent Doggett. It's too open."
"Well, nobody knows who we are, why we're here, or where this
ambulance was supposed to be, so I say hiding in plain sight
might be the best plan," Doggett assessed. "But just in case..."
He drew his gun and opened his door.
As Doggett patrolled the area, Skinner turned in his seat. "Are
you okay, Mrs. Scully?" he asked. "We could find someplace for
you to wait while we..."
"Oh no you don't!" she said angrily. "Don't just dump me when my
grandson needs me!"
Skinner closed his eyes and sighed. "I didn't mean..."
"I know what you meant," she snapped. "But I feel fine, and if I
can help, I will. I'm not letting anything happen to that baby!"
Her resolve brought a smile to Skinner's face. "I understand,
but that baby needs his grandmom too," he said compassionately.
"I don't want to let anything happen to you."
Maggie blushed and looked into his soft brown eyes. "Now I know
why my daughter trusts you," she appraised.
"Just doing my job, ma'am," he blushed.
Doggett opened the door and slid effortlessly into the
passenger's seat. "All clear," he said. "Monica said they'd be
here in a few minutes, depending on traffic. We should be fine
here."
Skinner and Maggie Scully smiled at each other, leaving Doggett
to say, "What? What'd I say?"
CHAPTER 20
When Mulder and Reyes arrived at the National Institutes of
Health campus, all seemed quiet. They pulled up behind the
ambulance. Skinner walked up to the car and leaned over the
driver's door. Reyes rolled down her window and asked, "So now
what? There must be thirty or forty buildings here. How do we
know where..."
"I know," Mulder said. "I've seen it."
Reyes looked at him skeptically. "In a vision?" she queried.
Skinner rolled his eyes. "Mulder, if you don't have something
better than that to go on..."
"Do *you* have something better?" Mulder interrupted. Skinner
and Reyes sighed in unison. "I didn't think so," Mulder said
smugly. "We're going to go to a building marked 'Recombinant
DNA' and it's guarded, but only by two armed guards. I think we
can distract them."
"How?" Reyes asked.
"What soldier can resist a damsel in distress?" Mulder winked.
A few minutes later their plan was in place. Maggie, who
insisted on helping, waited in the ambulance, ready to sound the
siren if any authorities arrived.
Monica and John stood in the shadows of a stand of trees across
from the building. "Ready?" Doggett asked.
Reyes mussed her hair, ripped the collar of her blouse, and
smeared her lipstick. "How do I look? she asked.
"Terrible!" Doggett laughed. "It's perfect."
Reyes ran screaming toward the guards, shouting "Help! Help!
There's a man... over there... he attacked me!"
One of the guards ran toward her and took her elbow. She
resisted his attempts to pull her toward the building, instead
feigning a labored pant as if too winded to go on. "He's...
still... there.... I think..." she nodded to where John's hiding
place.
When he saw the guard's head moving in his direction, Doggett ran
through the shadows, drawing fire from the guard at the gate.
Reyes screamed a girlish scream and held onto "her" guard's arm.
"Don't leave me!" she pleaded. "He's coming back for me."
The guard nodded to his partner, who reluctantly left his post
and ran toward Doggett's shadow. Reyes pulled 'her' guard's
attention toward herself as Mulder and Skinner entered
unchallenged into the building.
Inside, they found a long hallway lined with identical doors
marked with biohazard warnings. Each door sported a round
porthole-like window, through which Mulder and Skinner could see
typical laboratory equipment. Behind them they heard the sounds
of dozens of voice, each quietly whispering a name. Skinner
turned around, guns drawn, but saw nothing. "Keep it down!"
Mulder whispered to the empty hall.
As they continued down the hall they saw a few rooms lined with
cribs, each equipped with electronic monitors and IV stands.
"The last one on the right," Mulder whispered.
Skinner shot Mulder a puzzled look, but he *had* been right so
far this night, so he went along. Through the window of the last
room, Skinner could see three babies in hospital cribs, each
attached to an IV tube with pinkish fluid in the sac above. A
pink-faced, gray-haired woman in a nurse's uniform took a sac
with the same pinkish fluid and attached a hose from it to a
machine that separated it into several small tubes. She took one
tube and held it to the light, then noticed the two men peering
through the window. She ran toward the door, but stopped
mid-stride, her face white with fright.
Mulder pushed open the door, and the two men walked in
purposefully. "Ma'am," Skinner said. "We're with the FBI..."
"I don't care who you're with," the woman said in a trembling
voice. "You don't belong here." She backed toward a desk and
felt frantically under its keyboard tray.
"Never mind about the alarm," Mulder said. "The guards are
busy." He walked to one crib then gently stroked the nearly
hairless head of the occupant. "William," he whispered. He
turned to the nurse and said, "Take these tubes out of him.
NOW!"
"Why?" the woman objected, her body backing her swivel chair into
a cabinet. "Why should I listen to you?"
Before Mulder could answer, the woman went silent, looking up
with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip. "But how..." she
asked, then stared intently at one point in space. "I
understand," she said in a monotone. "I'll do it."
She rose and went to a cotton ball jar, then pulled some out and
started removing tubing from the babies. Skinner looked from her
to Mulder, puzzled by their silence and the woman's sudden change
of heart. When the babies were free from their tubing and their
wounds cleanly dressed, the three each took one and started for
the door. When they reached the front door they could hear
voices behind them again, and Mulder turned around. "Okay, boys.
Now is the time. Go for it!"
The voices turned louder, angrier, and raucous, as tubing, beds,
vials and all the medical accoutrements of the place flew in all
directions, smashing with intensity. Doggett and Reyes arrived
at the front door in time to see and hear the commotion.
"Don't you see it?" Reyes asked Doggett.
Mulder interjected, "It's our ancestors. Taking back our
destiny."
"All's I see is stuff flying around," Doggett insisted. "And
we'd better get outta here before something hits someone."
They arrived at the ambulance in time to see the guards rushing
toward the building. "They're supersoldiers," Doggett assessed.
"I shot 'em both. They shouldn't be standing."
And as the two guards entered the building, it exploded, sending
fire and debris in all directions.
Skinner handed a baby to Maggie Scully and said, "Let's get the
hell outta here." He assumed the driver's seat, and Maggie
Scully sat in the passenger side.
Reyes, the nurse, Mulder, and Doggett ran to Reyes' car, then
sped away behind the ambulance.
EPILOGUE
Washington General Hospital
The next morning Dana Scully held her son, William, contentedly
as Agent Reyes recounted the story of his rescue. "All three
babies were born to mothers who had been abducted and were
diagnosed as barren," Reyes explained. "The nurse didn't know
the extent of the research at NIH, but she received this
information in a vision."
Scully's eyebrows raised in habitual skepticism. "Like the
visions Mulder told me about before he left?"
"I know, it sounds strange," Reyes added. "But Mulder's visions
were accurate, and this woman seemed to have the same kind of
experience. How else do you explain it?"
"I don't know," Scully said resignedly. "But go on. I need
answers, even if they're strange answers."
"Well, William and the other two babies are considered the first
of the successful cases of hybridized super soldiers. And this
lab, or whatever it was, was set up to clone these babies. To
make more of them, or at least to use their DNA in future
experiments."
Instinctively, Scully held William closer to her. "And was that
the only lab doing this? Or are there more somewhere else?"
Reyes shook her head. "Who knows? But I can tell you this.
William and the other children like him have someone watching
over them. They'll be okay."
"Like guardian angels?" Scully asked hopefully.
"Something like that," Reyes smiled. "All these babies have
their Agent Mulders watching out for them."
The two women were startled to see first a hand, then an arm,
then a complete Agent Mulder leaning over William. He kissed the
top of the baby's head, then brushed his lips against Scully's
cheek. "I'll always watch out for you. Both of you."
And with that, his image disappeared.
*****************************
Vietnam Memorial Wall
A large hand spread over the names of two dozen marines etched
one after the other in honor of their simultaneous sacrifice.
The hand trembled slightly as it reached the name Hank Shelby.
Skinner let his hand drop, and his head followed, bending in
silent sighs that might have been prayers in a man whose faith
had not been so badly shattered. He reached into his pocket and
removed a small piece of ribbon attached to a medal. He'd saved
their lives, and for what? he wondered. He stuffed the Bronze
Star into the crack between the dark granite slabs and patted it.
'This is yours,' he silently addressed his platoon.
He walked to the bench opposite the wall and sat, his shoulders
drooping with the weight of his grief. 'They're not gone,' he
thought. 'Not while someone remembers them.' He looked up at
their names and saw the reflections of dozens of marines in the
charcoal-colored stone. He looked behind him and saw only Agent
Doggett, walking over the grassy hill, the Washington Monument at
his back.
"They told me I'd find you here, Sir," Doggett said. "I hope you
don't mind."
"Have a seat, Agent Doggett," Skinner growled.
The two men sat in silence for a moment, then Doggett cleared his
throat and said, "I thought you might want to know. Those two
babies had been reported missing. They've been reunited with
their parents."
"That's good," Skinner answered mechanically.
"And," Doggett swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing.
"Agent Mulder's body has been positively identified. That
couldn't have been him with us at the Institutes of Health."
"You expect me to be surprised?" Skinner turned and looked at
Doggett. "Nothing surprises me anymore, Agent Doggett. Almost
nothing," he added sadly, then turned to look once again at the
names on the wall. "I hope they didn't die for nothing," he said
softly, more to himself than to Doggett.
"This is a part of my life I wish I could forget. I'm sure you
understand."
"Yes, sir, I do," Doggett said respectfully. "It was a different
war. A different time, but..."
"There's only one war, Agent Doggett," Skinner interrupted. "The
struggle to keep humanity from becoming something else. That war
will never end."
Suddenly, several soldiers appeared before them, wearing uniforms
from several services and wars. Among them Skinner recognized
Hank and Nurse Stowe. Hank put his hand on Skinner's shoulder
and said, "A few good men were left behind. As long as they let
us help them, our deaths were not in vain."
The soldiers saluted then disappeared into a haze.