PT 2/4 ********* Scully retrieved Dr. Matheson’s laptop from her briefcase and handed it to Langly. He nodded silently, understanding what she wanted and tucked it gingerly into the bag of equipment that hung heavily from his shoulder. What followed was a pantomime conversation carried out over Mulder’s spoken one. “Hey, Scully,” he said while herding the Lone Gunmen out the door and grabbing his own jacket, “I’m starved, let’s go grab a bite.” Scully nodded, moving to the bathroom to change into jeans and a sweater, while Mulder managed to keep talking about mundane things. Soon they were out of her apartment and on the road, Mulder at the wheel, with the dark sedan Scully had spotted from her window two car lengths behind. Mulder pulled into a spot right in front of a place called “The Cave” and ushered Scully inside. They walked in and grabbed a booth towards the back with a good view of the door. They stood out like Oral Roberts at a Marilyn Manson concert. Everyone was dressed in gothic black and sported more piercings than a well-worn voodoo doll. Mulder smiled with deep satisfaction as two men in dark suits came in just minutes behind them. He gave them a one-finger salute as they paused and looked his way. They turned and left, grimacing as they realized they had just given themselves away. “Must be the second string,” Mulder mused as they left. A very pale young woman with short-cropped, dyed black hair sauntered up to their table. She carried a large round tray which she rested on her hip. “Can I get you something?” she asked, fully expecting them to ask for directions. “You have food?” Mulder inquired evenly. Scully sat silently wondering how she managed to speak around the metal bars that protruded from both cheeks and her bottom lip. Not to mention the one through her tongue. She was relieved when she heard the young woman answer in the negative. She stood as Mulder did and he took her elbow, gently maneuvering her out a door to the rear of the place. They emerged in the alley and walked a short distance to the street. They turned right and came to a deli located right on the corner. They entered and Mulder pulled out his wallet. “My treat,” he smiled. “Pastrami and Provolone on Rye with that coarse spicy mustard,” he said to the old man behind the counter He nodded. They both looked to Scully who ordered a large chef salad. “And two iced-teas,” Mulder said concluding their order. The old man made Mulder’s sandwich and retrieved a fresh-looking salad from a refrigerated case behind the counter, placing the food before the two and taking Mulder’s money. They picked up their food and took a seat toward the back of the small deli that gave them a good view of the goings-on outside. “They know we’re on to them,” Mulder began around a mouthful of sandwich. “I think we should leave the bugs in place.” Scully’s eyebrows went up in a look of surprise, but she said nothing as Mulder continued. “They know we’re aware of the tail, but they may think that we have missed the listening devices and will back off to lull us into a sense of security. We can use this to our advantage,” he said with a crooked grin. “We can continue to feed them the information that *we* want them to have.” Scully smiled, liking the idea of being the cat this time, rather than the relentlessly pursued mouse. “I think that we should see Dr. Kim again,” she said, “I believe that he knows more than he told us about that adoption. Given Cancer Man’s involvement, it’s obviously not the simple adoption that we had assumed. I think we should see Marshall Matheson again, as well.” “Okay,” Mulder agreed, “I’ll pick you up at eight.” They finished their food and made their way back to Mulder’s car. There was no sign of their tail as they headed back to Scully’s apartment. Once there, he saw her to her door. “Well, Scully, I’ll see you in the morning. I think you’re right about going to Zyvex, we might get some answers about Dr. Matheson from her colleagues.” “’Night, Mulder,” she said grinning. He winked at her as she closed the door and left once he’d heard the deadbolt and chain click into place. ************ JUST OUTSIDE BLACK CROW, ND A lovely young woman with long brown hair climbed down from the cab of the semi-truck. She slung a large duffel over her shoulder then stepped back from the door. “Thanks,” she smiled. The driver waved and pushed the monstrous engine into gear, pulling away as she closed the door. Her expression hardened immediately as she turned on her heel and began walking toward a series of squat-looking buildings a short distance away. The being inside her was becoming weaker by the minute and she knew she had little time to complete her mission. The buildings were surrounded by a ten foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire. She walked up to the gate where a soldier stood guard. He looked at her and his hand went to his weapon. “This is a secured area, Miss, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave.” Kaitlyn’s eyes swam and her body began to glow. The entity inside her would not be balked. A blinding flash of light emanated from her and the guard went down, burns all over his body. She screamed out from deep within her mind at the violence she had hoped to avoid. This soldier was only doing his job! Even though his job was to keep anyone from gaining access to the secret inside, at any cost, she felt remorse for his death. She continued past him, driven by an almost instinctual urge and headed for one of the small buildings. She touched the handle of the locked door and it began to glow, melting away at her touch, giving her access. She entered and looked around. She stepped into the elevator and began the journey into the bowels of the earth where her objective was stored, eighty storeys down. She prayed silently that their plan would work. She didn’t want her life to be forfeit for nothing. This gambit must work or the human race would be doomed to servitude and death as hosts to these still unknown invaders. She encountered no other guards as she made her way through the maze of hallways, like a salmon swimming upstream to its spawning place, guided by the thing within her. She came at last to a door marked with the number 1013 and an international sign for radiation hazard. Once again, the locked door posed no obstacle and she entered the dark room, fully prepared for her life to end within moments of completing her task. She only wished she could live long enough to see her Alexei again. ************** Scully spent a sleepless night tossing in her bed. The thought of someone listening to her every movement preyed on her mind and kept her from drifting off. She didn’t know if she actually talked in her sleep but the idea of anyone eavesdropping on her dreams was repellant to her. She wished that Mulder hadn’t insisted on leaving the bugs in place, but she understood the rationale and was forced to agree with it. She looked at the clock. It was nearly 5:30 a.m. She gave up on any hope of actually sleeping and reached over, flipping on the small lamp next to her bed. She dug around in her briefcase that still rested next to the bed and retrieved the files she had replaced there. She put on her glasses and spread the papers out on the coverlet before her. She perused the most heavily redacted pages, trying to piece together some of the information contained within them. The adoption papers she set aside and concentrated on the other three folders. Between the heavy black lines, she found references to micro-processors and macrophages. Her curiosity was aroused, but she couldn’t quite make the connection. She deduced that there was a link between the computer technology and the mention of the immune-response systems of the human body. She had believed that nano- technology was science fiction until she had seen the little carbon “machines” at work in Skinner’s body building walls in his arteries. She was startled from her contemplation by her alarm. It was now 6:30 and Mulder would be here at 8:00. She replaced the pages in their folders, but not before again noticing Spender’s initials on several of them. What role did he play in Kaitlyn Matheson’s research? More over, what was his involvement with her adoption? What possible threat was the simple adoption of a child to national security? She left the puzzle with the files and headed for the shower. She was very tired and she suspected it was going to be a long day. By the time Mulder knocked on her door, she was dressed and ready to go. She offered him a bagel, but he declined saying that coffee was the breakfast of champions and he was on his third helping. She locked up and they made their way to Mulder’s car which he had parked on the street in front of her building. After a short drive, most of which Scully slept through, they arrived at Dr. Kim’s building. It was still only 8:30 and Dr. Kim’s office hours began at 9:00. Hoping to catch him in early, they took the elevator up. The doors opened and they stepped out into the now familiar hallway. They headed toward his office when Scully noticed that the door to his private office was ajar. Mulder knocked gently. The door swung open and Scully gasped. There on the floor, lay Dr. Kim, a pool of blood forming under him and soaking the carpet. Scully rushed to Dr. Kim’s side, her hand automatically seeking out his carotid artery to check for a pulse. He wheezed, struggling for breath and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment only the whites of his eyes showed between the lids, then he fixed Scully with his gaze as if using her face as a focus for his ragged breathing. “Dr. Kim,” she whispered, “what happened?” The doctor fought to stay conscious. Scully quickly examined him noting a small wound to his left side, between the ribs. He had lost a great deal of blood and she looked up at Mulder, her face grim. Mulder moved quickly to the phone and dialed 911, giving their location and his badge number. With a pale and trembling hand, Dr. Kim reached up and grasped Scully’s lapel, trying to pull her closer. She moved her head down close to his lips, knowing he didn’t have much time. “Balch Biomedical,” he rasped, “Christine told me… she found out… and they killed her… I thought, thought…” He gasped again, the blood rising to his lips. “After all this time… was not in danger.” He drew one last strangled breath, his eyes glazed over and he became still. Scully’s eyes hardened. These men were not above the law! She would see that this death didn’t go unpunished if it was the last thing she did. Their attempt to murder the truth had not been effective and they now knew that Christine’s death had not been accidental either. She looked to Mulder who wore the same bleak visage. They both shared the same feeling of responsibility for this man’s death. Once again, they had happened upon the right trail, only to have it truncated by the same “culture of lawlessness” that they had witnessed again and again. After making their statements to the local PD, they decided to pay another call to Marshall Matheson. They stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk. Mulder was about to open Scully’s door when a scraggly looking street-person bumped into Mulder, nearly knocking him to the ground. The man had long, stringy brown hair and a beard and wore a filthy army-surplus jacket and baggy khaki pants. “Sorry,” he muttered, head bent, as he continued on his way. ++++++++++++++++++++ They pulled up to the Matheson estate. They were once again ensconced in the library to wait for him. Scully occupied herself with the dozens of photos arranged on top of the baby grand piano that stood in one corner of the room. One photo showed two men dressed in very old fashioned clothing holding rifles before a house built into the ground – what was called a “sod house” – and a dead buffalo in the foreground. She took a second look. One of the men was Theodore Roosevelt. There were many other pictures. One of Kaitlyn in black cap and gown, smiling holding the scroll of her diploma with Marshall’s arm around her shoulder caught her eye. She thought back to her own graduation, her father standing beside her with the same pride beaming from his eyes. Her face clouded for a moment, remembering his disappointment when she had elected to join the bureau rather than to pursue a career in medicine. She was saved from her memories as Matheson joined them. “Agents,” he greeted them. He looked haggard, his eyes sunken behind dark circles. “I assume you haven’t spoken with your superior yet,” he began, his manner guarded, not at all the open and helpful man they’d spoken to before. “I have decided to drop this case.” “Sir, if I may,” Mulder began, “I know that you’ve been threatened…” “They have threatened to kill Kaitlyn,” he hissed, “if I talk to you again! You must leave immediately! I won’t do anything that might endanger her.” “These same men have already killed Dr. Kim,” Scully said flatly, “and I don’t think they would hesitate to follow through with their threat. But, sir, our presence here has already put you in danger.” She paused a moment to let her words sink in. “If you cooperate, we can put you in protective custody…” “Do you really think that there is anywhere you could put me that they couldn’t find and get to me?” he asked, his voice becoming shrill. “No, agents, I’m sorry. My own life be damned, I won’t do anything to risk Kaitlyn’s safety. I can’t help you any further.” He motioned to the door, in effect, throwing them out. They moved toward the door as Matheson led the way. “One more thing, sir,” Mulder said, “How did Mrs. Matheson die?” Matheson looked surprised by the question. “She died in a car crash, Agent Mulder. Now, please, leave,” he said and resolutely closed the door behind them. “That was very good, Marshall.” The man’s voice came out of the shadows of the dining room across the foyer from where Matheson had received the agents. He trailed smoke in his wake as he crossed to the door where the harried man stood. “I’d hate for anything to happen to Kaitlyn if they were to come back.” “You promised not to harm her,” Matheson pleaded. “And I always keep my promises,” he wheezed, dropping his cigarette on the parquet floor and crushing it out with the toe of his shoe. “Always.” He left as the agents pulled out of the drive, leaving the smell of smoke and fear behind him. Mulder maneuvered the car down the Matheson drive. His thoughts were preoccupied by the previous events. He knew that Matheson’s only concern was for his niece, but he was frustrated by his change of heart. He reached into his pocket for his cell. He needed to call Skinner. He felt something clink against the plastic and wrapped his hand around it. He pulled it out and found a small vial sealed with a red stopper. His brows came together in a confused frown. A small piece of paper had been rubber-banded to it. He handed it to Scully. “Hey, Scully?” he inquired, “Do you know what this is?” Scully took the vial from his hand. She removed the rubber-band and paper holding the vial to the light. “It’s a test tube,” she replied, “where did it come from?” “I don’t know,” Mulder said, “I just found it in my pocket.” Mulder thought for a moment. “Maybe Matheson…” he stopped, remembering the homeless man who had nearly bowled him over. “Son-of-a- bitch!” he swore. “Our friendly neighborhood rat, and I didn’t even recognize him.” Scully looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Excuse me?” “Krycek. He looked like a street person, he almost knocked me down in the street outside Dr. Kim’s office. He must have slipped that in my pocket,” Mulder said with a begrudging sense of admiration. “Right there, and I let him go.” Mulder pounded the steering wheel, “Damn!” He headed the car toward D.C. beating himself mentally for letting the bastard slip through his fingers again. “Can you get that under a microscope and meet me in Skinner’s office?” he asked. “Sure,” Scully said, “It shouldn’t take too long to determine what it isn’t, but as for what it is…” she shook her head, “I’ll do my best,” she sighed. After a short drive, they pulled into the parking garage of the J. Edgar Hoover Building and split up. Mulder headed for the A.D.’s office and Scully for the lab. Hopefully they would have some answers soon. +++++++++++++++ Kimberly sat at her desk pouring over the day’s mail. She looked up as Mulder entered the outer office. She recognized the look of determination on his face and simply nodded, reaching for the intercom. “Sir?” she said into it, “Agent Mulder is here to see you.” “Send him in,” came Skinner’s clipped reply, hollow and tinny through the small speaker. Mulder smiled his thanks at the petite redhead who reminded him somehow of Scully. She smiled back and watched him as he disappeared through the door. “Have a seat, Mulder,” Skinner began, “I’ve had a call from the director…” “We’ve just come from Marshall Matheson’s place,” Mulder cut him off. “I’m not surprised that we’ve been pulled from this case.” Skinner’s eyebrows went up, but he said nothing. He folded his hands on the desk before him and waited for Mulder to continue. “We’ve found some alarming evidence, sir. Something that I’m sure will interest you particularly,” he waited for his superior to interject, but when he did not, Mulder continued. “Dr. Matheson created the nano-machines with which you were infected. We also found traces of the black oil in her room. We believe that she’s infected with it, sir – being controlled by it.” Mulder paused to let his words soak in. “And that’s not all,” he said, his voice becoming harder, “the residue that Scully analyzed also contained the same nano-technology.” Skinner’s jaw twitched as he ground his teeth. It was the only outward sign of the storm brewing within, camouflaged by the cool exterior he always maintained. “I see,” he said, his voice carefully modulated, “and that means what, exactly?” “It means, sir, that Dr. Kaitlyn Matheson was directly responsible for your compromised position,” Mulder said flatly. “It also means that they have every reason to keep us from finding her.” They were distracted by a light knock at the door. Scully walked into the room and took her usual seat next to Mulder, her face deathly serious as she held up the vial Mulder had discovered between her fingers. “What did you find?” Mulder asked her without preamble. “What I found, Mulder, is another piece of a larger puzzle,” she said. “This vial contains more of the black oil, as I suspected. It also contains human blood and thousands of the nano-machines.” She shook her head, “But here’s the surprising part, the things have rendered the black oil inert. They seem to be consuming it.” Skinner looked at her in open shock. “What do you mean, ‘consuming it’?” “Just that, sir. It seems to be acting as a kind of macrophage. Killing and consuming it the same way the human immune system does an infection,” she shook her head. “Frankly, I’m at a loss. I’ll need more time. I want to send a sample to Quantico to analyze and DNA-type the blood, to see if it’s a factor in what I’m seeing.” She spread her hands out in front of her. “I can’t explain it, but I’m willing to bet that Dr. Matheson can.” “Look,” Skinner began, “first of all, it was Krycek that was in control of those,” his face contorted into a look of pure disgust, “things that were put in me. Do you think he could have somehow compromised Dr. Matheson? Forced her to give him the technology?” “To what end?” Mulder posed. “If Krycek is working with them, what benefit is her research to him? Other than to keep it from being used against them? In any case, why give it to us?” “Krycek gave this to you?” Skinner snapped. “In a round about way, sir, yes,” Scully explained. She proceeded to tell of the reverse pick-pocket act while Mulder looked angrily at his shoes, saying nothing. “The only logical explanation would seem to be, that he is not working for them as Mulder put it, but wanted us to have this information.” Mulder shook his head, refusing to believe that Krycek would do anything to help them in any way, unless he himself was to benefit from their enlightenment. He pulled out the paper that had been secured around the vial. “It would seem, sir, that we need to head to Black Crow,” he said. Skinner nodded. “This time, agents,” he began, “I agree. I want some answers.” Mulder and Scully stood to leave. Skinner stopped them as they reached the door. “And agents? Be careful.” They nodded gravely and left to prepare for their flight. ++++++++++++ Kaitlyn retched as the last of the black oil poured from her. It slithered into the ship through the spiral engraved on its top. She slid down the side of the craft, plummeting the last eight feet in a free-fall. She heard the nauseating crack and screamed in pain as her wrist broke under her as she hit the ground. Clutching it gingerly to her chest, she curled up into a fetal ball and sobbed. She prayed that the end would come quickly and that her sacrifice wouldn’t be for naught. She thought back to her work with Dr. Orgel. They had been ecstatic at the success of their research. They had toasted the infinite possibilities for their creation in the alleviation of human suffering; the eradication of cancerous cells from within the body without damage to the surrounding healthy tissues, the destruction of the HIV virus before it could replicate itself and destroy its host, the correction of genetic abnormalities and damage. They had playfully practiced their acceptance speeches for the Nobel Prize. Later, he had told her with tears in his eyes how the little machines had been adapted as a weapon by the same men who had funded their research. He had tried to contact the man at the FBI, to tell him of the danger inherent in the technology, to prevent its export. That was the last time she had seen him alive. That had been when Alex had contacted her. She had been on her way to the funeral when a dark and handsome man had climbed into her car at the end of her drive. He had dropped the small controller device onto the seat between them and asked if she would be interested in how he had come by it. She had been terrified, but listened, became intrigued and then furious. He had answered many questions that she had only asked herself. Questions about her origins and her abilities, things she had, over her life, come to realize were not common to everyone. She also had an uncanny ability to “read” people – to determine their true motives and intent as if their hidden emotions were displayed behind glass. She had seen intricate layers of truths embedded in deceptions within Alex Krycek. He had made no attempt to shield his agenda from her, telling her everything in an unadorned and brutal narrative. When his tale was complete, he had sat silent waiting for her reply. He had shattered all her illusions and broken her heart with his words and truths, but she knew in her heart that truths they had indeed been and she had agreed to help him as only she could. She blinked the tears from her eyes. She scooted across the cement floor until she came to a wall. The only light in the silo chamber came from pinholes in the doors 80 storeys above her, giving the illusion of stars over her head. She propped herself up against the wall, cradling her throbbing wrist and waited, willing herself to die, missing Alex with all her heart. ++++++++++++++++++++ Alex brushed the leaves from his hair as he rose from his hiding place beneath them. Darkness had fallen and he would be able to conceal himself within it. He had witnessed the commotion that had accompanied the discovery of the guard’s body. He had watched from his burrow as they had unceremoniously dumped it into the back of a covered truck and hauled it away. The guard had been replaced and Alex had spent the past several hours watching his movements, timing his circuits as he moved along a beat covering about 100 yards along the fence. He skirted the trees and arrived at a point just before the gate. The guard crossed before him and he made a dash through the unrepaired gate and into the complex. He was soon inside the elevator, descending into the ground. He dodged another guard and headed through the maze of hallways to the door he remembered all too well. The door stood open and a gruff voice from within stopped him cold in his tracks. He flattened himself against the wall beside the door, his hand going automatically to the knife strapped to his thigh. Kaitlyn was shoved roughly through the door, stumbling and falling to the ground. She cried out in pain as she took the fall on her shoulder while trying to protect her injured wrist. She was followed by a large brutish man who menaced her with an automatic rifle. Alex moved like a jungle cat. Coming in behind the man, he grabbed his head with his left hand and slit his throat, quickly and quietly, with his right. He gurgled faintly and fell dead to the floor, his eyes wide with surprise. Kaitlyn turned to face her captor as he hit the ground. The surprise and shock registering on her face as she recognized Alex’s face. He moved quickly to her side, kneeling down next to her. “Can you walk?’ he asked softly. She was trembling, but her relief at his presence was palpable as she nodded silently. He helped her to her feet and they retreated back to the room where the ship was kept. He let go of her long enough to grab the dead man’s feet and weapon and dragged him inside with them. He stripped off the jacket of his black fatigues and quickly mopped up most of the puddle of blood that had formed under the dead man. He slipped back through the door and pulled it almost closed. He turned to Kaitlyn. “How badly are you injured?” he asked, his hand going up to gently caress her cheek. His green eyes filled with compassion and concern. “It – it’s broken,” she stammered and held up her left hand for his inspection. It was swollen and had begun to turn an angry shade of purple. He shed his undershirt and ripped it into strips. He disassembled the guard’s rifle and made a crude splint from the stock, securing it to her wrist with the shreds of cloth. She winced as he immobilized her hand. As soon as he had finished, they retrieved the duffel she had hidden close to the ship. He pulled a small flashlight from one of his pockets. He opened the duffel and pulled the control device from it. He held it steady and trained the light on the keypad as Kaitlyn pushed the numbers in with her right hand. “Show time,” he said, his eyes hard. Kaitlyn met his gaze with her own dark eyes, glinting with malice toward the thing inside the ship. “Let’s hope this works,” she answered and pressed the final sequence into the key pad. +++++++++++++++ Mulder and Scully pulled into Dulles early to catch their 6:45am flight. After a layover in Minneapolis, the arrived in Fargo at around 10:20 and hit the rental counter, tired but hopeful. Mulder presented the clerk with the Bureau’s credit card and a friendly smile. She smiled back and handed him the keys to a dark red sedan. “Thanks, uh – Kelly,” he said reading her name from the tag on her left lapel. She blushed and wiggled like a praised puppy. “Thank you, Fox,” she purred reading his name off the rental agreement. Scully nearly suppressed the smirk. She reached for her bag and took the keys from Mulder’s hand. “Coming, Fox?” she teased. A small giggle bubbled its way up before she could put the brakes on it. He gave her his best “what’s-a-guy-to-do?” look, picked up his own bag and followed her to the lot where their car was waiting. Scully unlocked the trunk and tucked her small suitcase inside. She unlocked her door, climbed in, leaned across to unlock his door and inserted the key into the ignition. Mulder slid in behind the wheel and they were off. They picked up Highway 10 west out of town then linked up with I-94, beginning their long drive across North Dakota. About two hours later, Scully’s cell phone chirped in her pocket, startling her from a light and uncomfortable sleep. She pulled it out and pushed the button, “Scully.” “Agent Scully,” Kirsch’s voice slashed through the tiny speaker with a tone that caused her to unconsciously sit up straight in her seat. “Yes, sir,” she acknowledged. “Agent Scully, you and Agent Mulder are to break off your investigation immediately. This case has been closed,” he said in an authoritative monotone. “A.D. Skinner has been removed from this case as well. I will expect you in my office as soon as you arrive back in D.C.” The line went dead as he hung up in her ear. “Well, Mulder,” Scully said with a sigh, “it would seem that we’re on the right track. That was Kirsch.” She proceeded to tell him about the cessation of the case and their appointment for a butt chewing. Mulder stared straight ahead, chewing on his lip, waiting for Scully to demand that he turn around and head back to Fargo. “Well,” she said, “he didn’t say when we had to be back in D.C.” She smiled. “I’m really interested to know what it is we aren’t supposed to find in Black Crow.” Mulder grinned ear to ear. “What a rebel,” he teased, “you’re so turning me on.” Scully just rolled her eyes and laughed as more of North Dakota unfolded before them. The agents pulled up before the fence surrounding the silos. There was a flurry of activity behind it. Several men in olive drab fatigues moved about as if looking for something, their movements seemed to be directed by someone in a black limo. Mulder flashed his ID to the guard who had come up to his window. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, his hand on his side-arm, “this area is restricted. Unless you have a warrant, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.” Mulder was just about to try to bullshit his way in when a familiar figure came walking toward them. “Mr. Mulder,” he said casually as if they were old friends, “what brings you here?” A malignant smile played across his lips as he put his cigarette to them and drew on it deeply. “Oh, you know,” Mulder quipped, “we were out for a drive, enjoying the countryside. What brings you to this neck of the woods? Did some absentminded lab tech leave your cage unlatched?” “I see you have your mother’s sense of humor, Fox,” he retorted blowing smoke in Mulder’s face, “how droll.” He dropped the butt and ground it out with his heel. “I believe that your search for Dr. Matheson is over. She’s dead.” “If she’s dead,” Scully challenged, “why all the fuss?” she indicated the men fanned out across the area with a jerk of her head. “What are they looking for – Easter eggs?” “Ah, Miss Scully, I see your sense of humor remains intact as well. I’m sure that Director Kirsch will be very amused when he calls for your disciplinary hearing on gross insubordination. You were ordered to return to D.C., were you not?” he asked digging into his pocket for the pack of Morley’s that always resided there. He plucked one out and lit it with an expensive gold Calibri. “What do you know about Kaitlyn Matheson’s birth and adoption?” she asked ignoring his attempt to intimidate or bait her – she wasn’t certain which, and frankly she didn’t care. She had had quite enough of his bullying and lies. “Your signature appears on several documents relating to those events.” He merely smiled and answered, “More than you would believe, my dear.” Scully set her jaw in belligerence. “Try me,” she shot back at him. Daring him to tell her another lie. Spender turned and motioned to the limo. Gravel snapped and popped under the wheels as it pulled through the gate. It stopped within a few feet of him, the driver moving with alacrity to open the door for him. “What you’re looking for isn’t here anymore, Fox. And Dr. Matheson’s dead. Go home, both of you,” he looked pointedly at Scully, “before you get hurt. There are so many things you think you know, but you do not. If you persist in this investigation, I fear you may come to harm.” “Is that a threat, you black-lunged son-of-a-bitch?” Mulder bristled. He took a menacing step toward the smoking man. Scully put a restraining hand on his shoulder and he stopped, but the muscles there twitched in frustration at being thwarted. “It would seem to me that the nature of this case has changed. We’re no longer investigating a disappearance, but a murder,” Scully smiled sweetly at the older man, “if, of course, what you’ve told us it true.” She was certain in her gut that Kaitlyn Matheson was not dead, but she was equally certain that she would be if Spender found her before Mulder and she did. “Regardless,” Spender replied, “you’re wasting your time here. Go home, keep your jobs.” He retreated into the back seat of the limo, his driver seeing him safely ensconced and closing the door. He climbed into the limo without meeting their eyes. The limo pulled away, leaving Mulder and Scully standing with the guard who had backed to a discreet distance during the exchange. He still had his hand on his weapon and they knew that no amount of bullshit was going to get them past him. The two climbed back into the rental, Mulder spraying gravel and dirt as he peeled out. Scully watched him as he drove. A vein stood out and throbbed in his temple, his jaw twitching as he ground his teeth in frustration. His nostrils flared as he refused to let his anger rise free to the surface, but she could see it boiling there under his cool exterior. “It’s getting late,” she observed quietly, “how about we go into Black Crow and see if they have a motel and grab a bite? I think if he wants us to leave, then we should stick around. Dr. Matheson is obviously not there, but it seems apparent that she was. She might still be in the area and if we don’t find her first…” she let her voice trail off. They were very aware of what the smoking man was capable, having both been on the receiving end of his deficient conscience. Mulder pulled into the parking lot of the Dew Drop Inn, the only motel in Black Crow. Scully’s nose wrinkled momentarily, but she said nothing. They went inside the small cinder-block office where a woman of about 65 sat behind a counter, topped with a two-inch sheet of badly scratched Plexiglas, reading last month’s Cosmo. A sheet of blue paper advertising their rates had been laminated to the window with strips of clear tape, the edges of which were soiled and peeling. Scully was dismayed when she saw that they actually had an hourly rate. Mulder rapped the pane gently with his knuckles. The old woman held up one finger and reached behind her, retrieving a key on a red plastic tag from its place on a peg-board, without looking up from her magazine. She marked her place, stood slowly and leaning on the chair, desk and counter, made her way to the half-moon hole at the bottom of the barrier. “Cash or charge?” she asked pushing the key toward him through the opening. Mulder slid his credit card through. “Two rooms, please,” he smiled at her. Her brows went up as she looked from Mulder to Scully and back, but she turned around and painfully retrieved the first key’s neighbor. She ran the card through its paces. It cleared and she pushed the charge slip and the key towards Mulder. He signed the one and gave the other to Scully. “Kirsch is gonna have kittens when he gets the bill,” she smirked, “we’re not even supposed to be here. Do you think we could convince him we were just having a romantic interlude at the government’s expense?” Mulder laughed. “Do you think they’d pay for one?” he asked her archly. She smiled tiredly and they headed out into the chill early evening. They had spent hours on the road and agreed that they would both rather shower than eat. Mulder pulled the car around to park it in a space between their rooms and retrieved their luggage. They made plans to meet in an hour and parted to inspect their rooms. Mulder slid the key in the lock. With a click, the door swung open, banging softly against the wall perpendicular to it. He flipped on the light switch and tossed his bag on the bed. He slid the chain into place and turned the deadbolt. The switch had illuminated two small bedside lamps. Their dark blue shades cast the entire room in shades of azure and Mulder had to laugh. It looked like a whorehouse, right down to the mirrored ceiling. He could just see Scully’s face when she saw this. At least there was a television, the thought to himself. He shed his jacket and tie and he flipped the set on in passing. Any doubts he had about the nature of the motel was removed when he heard panting and moaning coming from the small speakers. He left it on, but finished stripping on the way to the bathroom. **** end pt. 2/4