[MD2, Kate’s hotel room, 7:20AM]

>Kate listened as Docker cut the connection on her.
>Docker's words ran through her mind... "With your
>ex-husband too.... how ironic." What the hell was
>that supposed to mean?
>
>Taking out her laptop, she plugged it into the hotel
>phone jack and retrieved all email she received. The
>most recent came from Docker with an AOL account
>and it contained only an attachment. Opening it, Kate
>saw that it was an old photo of 5 men with a caption
>under it that said, "Project Immaculate Conception".
>Looking closer, she saw that the 2nd person from the
>left was none other than Paul Moran.

Kate stared at the photograph for a long time, trying to get her mind around what Docker had said. But it was just too much to think about, the implications were just too..

"No!" she yelled, cringing away from the sound of her own voice echoing off the walls. She slammed down the cover of the laptop, and when the damned thing started beeping at her, it took an iron force of will not to pick it up and pitch it out the window.

She ran into the bathroom, suddenly sure that she was either going to start crying or be sick, probably both, but when she got there, she just stood staring into the mirror.

Too damned many questions. And the first one she had to consider was, why in the hell should she believe a single word Docker said? Well, because she couldn’t exactly ignore the possibility, of course. As much as she would like to dismiss it out of hand from a personal standpoint, it would be professionally irresponsible to do so. If Paul had been a part of this ‘Project Immaculate Conception,’ and if this case turned out to be related to it, then there was at best a serious conflict of interest. At worst, his sole purpose here might be to throw the whole investigation off track.

If that were the case, then what? Confront him? Ask him to step aside? That would be like asking the sun not to shine. Go over his head? She *could* do that, theoretically. But..

But what he said about Dillon. He seemed to be implying.. Impossible. Or was it? Didn’t it make a sick sort of sense?

Kate shook her head. "Impossible," she muttered to her reflection in the mirror. "Just plain crazy."

After all, it was perfectly obvious that Paul did not have azo.. whatever the hell that name was that September had come up with. Justin was proof of that. So there! Well, at least not *before* that ‘business trip’ to San Francisco. What about after? Well, they’d been together another five years after Dillon was born, and disgusting as the thought may be now, they had certainly had sex during that time. So if - and it’s a very big if, Kate reminded herself, so big that I shouldn’t even be considering it - if Paul had a condition similar to this rapist, why hadn’t there been a baby every year?

Because of the IUD, of course. Remember what the doctor said? "No one knows exactly why it works, but it does. Foolproof." And hadn’t Paul been the one to insist on it? Strenuously, in fact.

"Oh, just stop this," Kate said, loud enough to startle herself out of the trance-like state she’d worked herself into.

She turned on the faucet and picked up her toothbrush. And immediately forgot about it.

Dillon. What had Mrs. Lewandowski said about her son? That she knew who his father was just by looking at him, that the child had looked just like the man who had raped her. And wasn’t that exactly why Kate had so much trouble relating to Dillon? Because he looked so much like Paul?

"Mirror image," she said.

Just a coincidence, Kate told herself, and if I can’t stop myself from thinking about it, then at least I have to think logically.

Sometime later, there was a knock at the door. In the meantime, Kate had not been thinking logically. In fact, she had not been thinking at all. She had been standing in front of the mirror, with her toothbrush in her hand and the water running, staring at nothing in particular. She registered the sound, but it took a second round of knocking before she could force herself to do anything about it. She turned off the water and went to the door.

If it’s him, she thought half seriously, I’ll just shoot him. Make it look like self-defense. Fortunately, it wasn’t. She looked through the peep-hole and saw September and Flynn. She took the chain off and opened the door. September immediately frowned.

"Are you all right," she asked.

Kate couldn’t help laughing, although she was sure it sounded anything but sane. "No," she said. "Come in, sit down and give me a minute." She grabbed some clothes out of the closet, went back into the bathroom and shut the door. Once again, she looked at her reflection and thought that she must really be going over the edge to have answered the door looking like *that*. She quickly changed from the sweatpants and tank top into a more presentable pair of slacks and blouse, ran a comb through her hair, taming most of the tangles that had cropped up over night, and clipped it back in a barrette. That would just have to be good enough, because, she realized, her hands were shaking too badly to manage anything more intricate.

When she came out of the bathroom, she found Flynn and September seated in the room’s two chairs, looking at her expectantly, with concerned expressions. She almost started laughing again. "Better," she asked. They didn’t reply. "Where are Newt and Sharlyn."

"They went down to breakfast," Flynn said.

"Paul, too?"

They both nodded.

"Well, I would call them to come up here, but that would look mighty suspicious," Kate said. She sat down on the edge of the bed, still not sure exactly what or how much she was going to say. "So this will just have to be between the three of us for now. We can fill them in later." She lapsed into silence.

"Kate?"

She looked up at September, who had spoken, then at Flynn. Too late to turn back now. She had to tell them something.

"I got a phone call this morning, and I don’t quite know what to make of it. Or what to do about it," she began, and proceeded to tell them about the call from Docker. Finally, she opened the cover on the laptop, where the photograph was still displayed. They stared at it for a moment before recognition kicked in. When it did, both of them looked, if not as pale as Kate had when she saw it, then very close. Silence reigned for several moments. "You see my dilemma," Kate said at last. Once she started talking, it seemed that she was incapable of stopping, and she went on, "I am supposed to be leading this team. It’s my responsibility to keep everything running smoothly. But right this second I am feeling completely incapable of doing that." She rubbed her temples, more to avoid looking at them than for any other reason. She hated showing her weaknesses in front of anyone. "I have no idea how to handle this, so I would really appreciate your thoughts."

"Damn," Flynn said.

"God," September muttered.

"This is coming from Docker. I mean, how much faith can you put in anything he says."

"I thought of that," Kate said. "But we have to treat this as fact until it can be proved otherwise."

"You believe that it’s true, don’t you," September asked.

"God help me, I do. I don’t want to, but I just feel it. But that’s beside the point."

"Assuming it is, he knows about the project. And he hasn’t said anything."

Kate nodded. "I can’t go to anyone else with this. Too many questions to answer, and it’s not very professional of me, but I don’t think I can face that right now. Maybe once I’ve had a chance to deal with it, but.."

Flynn was shaking his head. "If it was just a matter of what Agent Moran may or may not have done, that would be one thing. But it’s not."

"Dillon is your son, Kate," September picked up the line of reasoning. "Not some freak of nature."

Kate shuddered at that - it was a little too close to her own thoughts. "I don’t want him to know anything about this, if it can be helped."

"Of course not."

Kate nodded, suddenly feeling much better. "So for the time being, we keep investigating, but officially we find nothing of value. If we come across any solid evidence, it does not go into any reports and Paul is not to be told about it. We’ll need to keep a close eye on him. He may try to sabotage the investigation."

Flynn sighed. "I can.."

Kate held up a hand. "Flynn, I want you to go to the library like we planned. I want to know about the Lewandowski boy more than ever now. Besides, I know him. I can pick up on little things the rest of you might miss. And when you’re done at the library, I’d like you to see if there’s anything useful in this photograph. Anything to indicate when and where it was taken. If it’s been retouched. If this is all some sick joke." She smiled, but it was forced. "I hope Docker is getting his jollies imagining how I’m taking this, because if I ever get him alone for five minutes.. Guess we better go down to breakfast before they start wondering where we are."

*****

[coffee shop, 7:55AM]

Kate plastered a pleasant smile on her face and led her little group of conspirators into the restaurant and over to where Newt and Sharlyn were sitting, chatting amiably with the enemy. They hadn’t waited to order breakfast. Paul’s doing, no doubt. He had never been the most patient person. She’d learned early on in her relationship with him, if they were going somewhere, she’d better be ready on time, or he would leave without her. Well, in this instance it didn’t really matter. She’d sort of lost her appetite anyway.

"Decided to sleep late, Katie," Paul asked.

Kate shrugged and poured a cup of coffee from the pot on the table. "Didn’t hear the alarm."

The group exchanged a round of good-mornings and typical morning pleasantries. Kate realized that if she was going to have to keep on smiling pleasantly all day, she was going to have an aching jaw by ten AM, but she didn’t let it fade. She kept quiet for the most part, figuring that it was best to say nothing or something might slip out that she would regret later.

"What’s the agenda for the day," Paul asked.

Newt was the first to speak. "We were planning to.." He stopped suddenly and looked mildly confused when someone, probably September, kicked him under the table.

"To make the rounds of the various doctors associated with the case," Flynn said, quickly and casually. "See if we can get a line on some kind of connection among the women."

"Uh, right," Sharlyn said. She cast a glance at Kate, who nodded slightly.

"Sounds like busy work to me," Paul said, looking straight at Kate. "But if that’s what Katie thinks is best.."

"You never know," Kate said. "Sometimes the answers can be found in the strangest places. September and I are going to start the morning by having a little chat with Christine Raleigh, if you would care to join us." She added a little extra wattage to her smile as she said it - enough, hopefully, to keep his attention focused on her, but not enough to give him any real encouragement. She hoped.

Flynn looked longingly at the remnants of eggs and toast on the others’ plates and sighed. "If your two are ready," he said, "I guess we might as well get started."

Still looking a bit confused, Newt and Sharlyn agreed and three excused themselves from the table. As they made their way out, Kate could see that Flynn was already whispering to the others.

*****

[Betsy’s Burger Heaven, 12:45PM]

Kate and September sat at a table in the corner. September had in front of her the stack of medical reports that had been faxed to the field office and picked up a little while ago. Kate was leaning against the wall, deep in thought about the theory she had formulated. The burger joint she had insisted upon for lunch wasn’t much too look at, and glancing around at the nearby tables, the food didn’t look at all appetizing. But it fit a certain requirement. The secretary at the office must have thought Kate was absolutely insane when she asked if there was a place nearby where you had to order at the counter and wait for your food.

But while Paul tended to the order, it gave her a chance to talk to September about the reports.

"How many of these women were using some kind of birth control," Kate asked.

September sighed and flipped through some pages. "Most."

Kate nodded. "Did any of them have an IUD?"

"No, I don’t think so."

"The pill, implants?"

"Yes."

"That makes sense. Hormonal birth control prevents ovulation. An IUD prevents the fertilized cell from implanting."

"I don’t get it," September said.

Kate nodded. "Think about it. No sperm. There has to be something, though, doesn’t there. So what does that leave us. Super-sperm? One missile, no fail. I don’t buy it. But if he’s transmitting a fertilized cell.."

Realization dawned on September’s face. "But why? I mean, artificial insemination is pretty common. Why not.."

"Simple. If all, even some, of the babies coming out of a certain clinic look identical, someone’s going to get suspicious. But a man, or group of men, can travel around. Pick up women in bars, or wherever, seduce them, rape them, whatever their preference. How long before anyone starts putting the pieces together? Especially if he keeps moving. This guy settled in Miami, and even so, it took fifteen women getting raped before anyone sounded an alarm."

"So you think these women are just .. what .. incubators?"

Kate cringed but pushed it aside. "Yes. I think if we run a DNA test on the babies, it will prove conclusively that these women are not the biological mothers." She picked up the salt shaker and studied it as if it were the most interesting thing she’d stumbled across all day.

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

"So, I’m sorry to ask you this, but Dillon.."

Kate shook her head almost imperceptibly. Don’t go there. "I think Kaleb Lewandowski was a prototype, an experiment that failed. I think that .. that some time later, there was another round of experiments that proved much more successful. And I think that if we didn’t have a long afternoon planned, I would make this a three martini lunch."


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