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Chapter 20
Accountability
by Pam Gamble


Blood has an unmistakable smell.

The beam from Scully's flashlight splayed across the
front hallway from its position on the floor. At its
current angle it served only to illuminate one corner
of the ceiling.

Scully's elbow dipped into the beam, and Mulder
strained to combine disparate images into a coherent
picture.

His shoe slid into the warm sticky ooze and he stepped
back immediately, finally remembering his own
flashlight dangling at his side.

The beam traced over the dark maroon pool at his feet,
to land on the waxy startled face of David Harrison.
Lips slowly pressed together, trying to form what were
surely last words.

Even in the half-shadow, he knew what his partner was
doing. She was a doctor. She was trying to save the 
life of the man she came here ready to kill. Mulder
wondered how Hippocrates would feel about that.

"Son-of-a-bitch, don't you die," muttered Scully, as
though reading his mind.

Mulder dropped to his knees, mentally writing off
another Armani. 

"They know..."gasped the man on the floor.

"Know what?" shouted Mulder.
"Still....here..., he hissed, a limp hand landing on
Mulder's knee.

*still here* Mulder's mind raced, and he fumbled for
his gun, jumping to his feet. He slid only a little
before regaining his balance and swinging his weapon
around the room.

"Get up, Agent Scully. He's dead anyway."

Scully could sense Mulder's finger tighten on his
weapon as she rose through the haze of cigarette smoke
wafting over her head. She could feel white hot anger
blazing from her partner in waves, but wouldn't take
her eyes from the gun barrel pointed at her. Scully
couldn't help her irritation as Mulder shifted
slightly to move in front of her. He might have
blocked a bullet, but she certainly wasn't going to
let him do this without her.

"Why did you kill him?" she demanded, moving from her
partner's shadow.

His lips curled evilly upward. "We live in such a
wasteful society, Agent Scully. We dispose of things
when they have outlived their usefulness."

"He was her husband."

"He was because we chose him to be. You don't think we
would go to these lengths to manipulate people and not
have some sort of control in place, do you? You're the
scientist, Ms. Scully. You can see that we couldn't
very well contaminate our genetic creations with
unknown DNA."

"What did you do to those kids?" Mulder snarled.

"Nothing actually. We did our experiments only on your
sister, and only before she'd reached puberty. The
children seem to have accepted the hybrid gene with no
ill effects."

"Then why kill him?" The room was heavy with death,
with the absence of a soul. 

"He wanted the tests to stop, and we couldn't allow
that. It became too personal. He was no longer loyal
to us." The old man took a long drag on his cigarette.
"After all, he is the one who sought your help in
locating his daughter, when he knew exactly where she
was. He wanted you to find her, Agent Mulder. He
wanted *you* to stop us." 

Scully shuddered, and ripped up her mental scorecard.

"Too bad, really. We'd put a lot of effort into this
one. We're going to have to relocate her. After all,
her husband was gunned down by professionals. Any
concerned mother would allow the government to take
over from here. Perhaps we can even convince her that
my recent death was part of the plot against her
family. That would be a nice touch, don't you think,
Mulder?"

Scully's eyes widened at his implication. Even with
only his back visible to her, she could see the look
on Mulder's face.

"You're not taking her away again," Mulder's voice
shook, as did the hand with the gun.

"You can kill me, Agent Mulder, but you can't stop
what we have created. It may make things even easier
for us." He gestured toward the body on the floor.
"Her husband and her father killed by the same man. 
We wouldn't have to take her away then. She'd never
have anything to do with you."

Scully knew he could do it. Manipulate the ballistics
evidence, make Mulder look like the shooter. He'd go
to prison, if he was lucky. She hadn't even stopped to
wonder what CancerMan had planned for her, but it was
obvious he was leaving no witnesses.

Scully stepped around the body, lowering her weapon as
she touched Mulder's arm, asking him to do the same.

Which made the bullet that flew through the darkness
that much more of a mystery.