Genesis
Ally

Chapter 24

Little Sisters of Mercy State Sanatorium. 12:31 a.m.

"It looks deserted."

Byers' voice shook slightly as he stared up at the imposing facade.

Beside him, Mulder remained silent.

They had left the safety of the car some two blocks back and completed their journey on foot, ever conscious that, should the building house what he hoped, there could be no doubt that it's electronic surveillance equipment would be top of the range and impossible to spot. It would be hard enough to gain entrance without announcing their presence by arriving in a car. Aside from one half-empty gun, a torch, and two short wave radios, their only asset was stealth. Looking at the structure of the huge building, Mulder was even beginning to question whether the element of surprise would help them in their quest.

The hospital must surely house a myriad of corridors and rooms, any one of which might be holding Scully, and in darkness he wasn't convinced that he might find her.

He sighed and glanced at his watch, the luminous dial shining brightly in the darkness.

Where the hell was Skinner?

"Hey, Mulder. Are we going to stand here all night?"

Mulder held up his hand to quiet Byers, who was getting antsier by the minute, but he had to be sure he was doing the right thing. One slip and it could mean the end for all of them, Scully included. Mulder noted the chalky whiteness of his friend's face and decided to keep the thought to himself. For the tenth time, he removed the powerful handgun from his holster and flicked it open, studying it's contents as though sheer will power could double the six bullets it held. He would have felt happier to have had a full clip, happier still to have been able to offer a weapon to Byers.

Wistfully he thought of the small but powerful Baretta languishing in his suitcase back at the E-Z 8 motel. He used it only rarely, but it was an excellent weapon to have as back-up, fitting as it did in a small concealed holster that fitted around the wearer's calf it was virtually undetectable and easy to reach.

Mulder had bought it along almost on a whim and. under normal circumstances. he would have been wearing it when he was out in the field. But the illness, whatever it had been, had caused him to completely forget about it.

He glanced once again at his watch, cursing as he registered that the hands had only barely moved. He had the uncomfortable feeling that time was running out, and his brain told him to get moving - and quickly.

"OK."

Byers leaned in closer to pick up Mulder's whispered words which were only barely audible above the late night traffic that filled the California roads.

"I'm gonna see if I can find a way in through the back." He handed Byers one of the radios which he flicked to channel three. "I need you to keep watch for Skinner. When he gets here, you put him on immediately. I'll need him to join me inside."

Byers nodded, the relief clearly displayed across his face at the understanding that he wouldn't actually have to join Mulder in the building.

"What if someone else comes?"

Mulder grinned.

"You run like hell and hope you're faster than the other guy."

Byers swallowed heavily.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Relax, Byers. Think of it as an adventure."

Byers watched as Mulder's form disappeared in to the blackness and when he could see him no more, turned his attention to the short wave radio he clutched in his hand.

It was shaking visibly.

He leaned heavily against the wall.

"Why me?" he muttered. A little computer crime was one thing. But this? This was something else altogether and he sent up a silent prayer that Mulder did indeed know whet he was doing.

********************

"Do you see him?" Wickham rose to his feet and pointed unnecessarily to the screen -- one of about twenty -- that covered the far wall of the tiny, cramped room he had spent the seemingly endless day within.

The image was fuzzy and slightly degraded, but the figure moving stealthily across the courtyard was as unmistakable as night was from day. The man's features were lost in the darkness, but the way he moved, the way he crouched low against the wall, hiding his body in shadows was unmistakably Mulder.

Wickham remembered him from the Academy, remembered how he had marveled at the man's sense of stealth. He was like a cat, lithe and silent, and had they not been expecting him to show up, they would probably never have spotted him.

The Smoking man did not respond other than to get to his feet and turn towards the door.

"What are you doing?" The confusion was evident in Wickham's voice, and he knit his brow at the older man's expression.

"Agent Mulder has arrived, Agent Wickham, which means it is time for us to go."

"What? I don't understand. I thought . . ."

"You are not required to think. You are simply required to follow my orders. Can you understand that?"

Wickham blanched visibly but nodded slowly.

"What about Scully?"

This time The Smoking Man smiled down at him, and enunciated his next words carefully, as though he were addressing a rather backward child.

"Agent Scully will be horrified to see her partner, the man she believes is responsible for her current condition. She will draw upon her not inconsiderable talents to ensure her continued survival. She will finish what we have started, and when she comes to realise was she has done, what we have done, she will cease to be able to function, as an Agent of the FBI or as a human being."

"And the child?"

The Smoking man paused before exiting the room.

"The child will be found. She will be disposed of in the usual manner."

A chill worked it's way up Wickham's spine as his eyes lit on a separate screen that took up space in one corner of the desk.

Clearer than the external screens it showed the image of a blonde haired, doe-eyed child who sat in the corner of a sparsely furnished room. She did not appear to be afraid, or distressed in any way. She did not attempt to escape the confines of the room. Her intelligence had allowed her to accept fully the new and unfamiliar regime that had been thrust upon her, just as it allowed her to understand that her mother was somewhere close. The time would come when she would need to go to her, and until then she was content to retreat in to her own mind, saving her strength and energy until such a time came that she would need them. The time was coming, and it would all be over soon.

Wickham had felt ill at ease and unsure during the limited time he had spent with the child. For a child as young as she, he had expected tantrums, or at the very least tears as her requests to be taken back to her mother had been ignored and unanswered. But instead, each time her requests brokered no response, Charlie had simply fixed her captors with china blue eyes and nodded thoughtfully, as if she held a far greater understanding of her situation than those who had brought it about.

Wickham had been told little regarding the child, what she meant to the Project, but he didn't need to be a genius to understand that she was different - dangerously different.

From his position in front of the monitor, Wickham was suddenly gripped with the feeling that not only did little Charlotte Stevens know that there were hidden cameras inside her small room, but also that she was as aware of him as he was of her. Wickham shuddered involuntarily and turned back to the Smoking Man.

"We should take her now," he ventured uncertainly, not wishing to transcend his limited authority but at the same time understanding the consequences that the child's discovery would broker.

The Smoking Man raised his eyebrows at the younger man's audacity. Wickham clumsily attempted to justify his words.

"What if Mulder finds her?"

The Smoking man directed his gaze to the figure on the screens who had now gained access to the building, and was even now, only a few hundred feet away. Only doors, bricks, and walls separated him from the man he considered to be his greatest adversary, and for a fleeting second, he felt almost sorrowful that their acquaintance was about to end.

He pulled out a cigarette and rolled it distractedly around his fingers before answering.

"Agent Mulder is intent on finding his partner. Nothing else has any meaning to him, and when he does, even meaning will cease to be important. For a second, he will look deep in to his partner's eyes, and then blessedly, it will all be over for them both. Just the way we planned it."

Wickham shuddered, and for a second, he was caught in a flashback to the day in his office when Mulder had introduced Scully to him. Even though he knew he should be feeling relief that finally it was over, he knew that, for him at least, it would never be over.

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