Chasing Shadows

Author:  Entil'zha

Feedback:  entil2001@yahoo.com

Summary: Doggett looks into a possible lead on Mulder

Rating:  R (profanity, violence)

Legal Disclaimer: All my pretty little toys belong to 
Chris Carter and 1013 Productions, Fox, etc., etc.

Category: Your normal everyday action-packed X-File

Spoilers:  This occurs just before "The Gift".  There are
spoilers for "Requiem" through "Badlaa", though more
specifically "Within/Without".

***

Long Island City, NY

12:01 AM

Doggett slipped his cell phone back into his pocket, and
looked back at the Manheimer building.  Scully was right.
Whatever this thing was, it was in its element in darkness.
And as he had noted more than once during his grand tour,
the Manheimer building was full of lots of dark corners
and other places to hide.

He turned to Tommy, who was standing with about three 
other officers near the trailer.  "You said you knew 
some of the guys who used to work for Manheimer?"

Tommy nodded.  "Yeah, a few.  Why?"

"You ever meet someone named Tony Calzaretta?"

Tommy thought for a moment.  "I think so.  New guy, only
there for a few months.  Maybe a year.  He was back and
forth to Jersey a lot."

Doggett stepped closer to his friend.  "What did he do
for Manheimer?"

"Shipping and receiving," Tommy answered.  He pointed
to the back of the Manheimer building, towards the
five large bay doors to the right of the ramp.  "That's
the back of the loading dock.  Not much action these
days."

Doggett shook his head.  "That's not what I was thinking
of, but that makes me think of something.  Londner said
that the warehouse here used to be leased for storage of
their materials, until just recently."

"That's right," Tommy said, and a couple of the other
officers confirmed it with a nod.

"So if Calzaretta was in charge of shipping and receiving,
was he also responsible for the material handling crew?
Would he have had any reason to be in that warehouse?"

"Just to remove the materials when they were ready to
move out," Tommy replied with a shrug.

"Exactly," Doggett agreed.  "So what was he doing in
the warehouse, when we know that all the materials were
out of there weeks ago?"

"Maybe they weren't all out," Tommy guessed.

"Or someone told him there was something still in there,"
Doggett added.  He looked back at the Manheimer building.
"Calzaretta died in that warehouse no earlier than two
days ago.  That means that he was still coming here to
supervise the removal of materials.  And we saw those
few drums in the shipping area."

Doggett scanned the back of the Manheimer building, and
then turned back to Tommy.  "I think we should find out
where they're keeping the drums that Calzaretta came
here to remove."

Tommy shook his head.  "We took a tour through that
building, Johnny.  That place was clear of drums, except
those few sitting here and there in shipping, and that
was hardly enough for a shipping supervisor to come
back for."

"I know," Doggett said confidently.  "So there has to be
someplace else where they are keeping them."

"Did you check in the underground garage, under shipping?"
one of the other officers, Hector Quintana, asked as he
pointed to a metal gate under the center of the loading
dock.

Doggett shook his head.  "No, we never made it down there.
But the way that Londner made it sound, it wasn't very 
important."

"We have free access to the building, Johnny," Tommy said,
holding up the key he had gotten from Herb Koenig.  "Want
to take a look?"

"I think that might be a good idea," Doggett said with a
grin.  He turned to the other officers.  "We can handle
this if you have something else to do."

The officers shook their heads.  "No way, sir.  Ciccone
was a good man, and a good friend.  We're sticking on
this to the end."

"All right," Doggett said with a satisfied smile.

All told, there were five of them.  Doggett and Tommy
took the lead, walking towards the loading dock.  The
three remaining officers were all from the local
precinct.  Quintana was a short, stocky man with a
thick Latino accent.  The second officer was named
Lombardi.  He was a tall Italian, but his accent was
pure Brooklyn.  The third officer was named Janeczko,
a muscular man with a trace of Polish in his voice.

Within minutes, they had their flashlights sweeping in
a constant arc of illumination in front of them, walking
down a steep stairway leading from the loading dock to
the underground garage.  As they came to the door at
the bottom of the stairs, Doggett heard a soft whirring
by the wall.  Quickly turning and pulling his weapon,
he relaxed when he noticed the camera.

"Security system, I guess," Lombardi muttered.  Doggett
nodded, and pushed open the door to the garage.

The underground garage was the same size as the shipping
area above.  There was a metal gate leading up a ramp
to the outside, the one Quintana had mentioned.  On
the opposite end, there was a door leading up to the
front of the building.

Doggett noticed that the space was roughly divided in
thirds.  To the left of the ramp, there was a large
pile of trash and empty boxes, likely from the move
to Jersey.  The center third, directly in front of
the ramp, was completely clear.  Doggett assumed that
the center space was used for parking.

However, the final third, the space to the right of
the ramp, was isolated by a steel cage.  Behind the
cage, pallet after pallet of steel-drummed materials
were arranged along the length of the garage.  A quick
inspection of the gate revealed a door with a lock
on their end of the garage, and another door very close
to the other end.

"This gate's locked," Janeczko said, pointing to the
nearby door.

"Let's check the other end," Tommy said, and they
carefully walked along the perimeter of the cage,
taking care to keep their path fully lit, as well
as the space behind them.

Doggett was the first to notice.  "That's door is
open."  Sure enough, as they came closer, they noticed
that the door was propped open with a drum full of
crumbled concrete.

"That ought to make it easy to take a look at those
drums," Tommy added.

Doggett stepped into the cage, careful to stay close
to the other officers and the light they provided.
He shone his beam directly on the nearest drum, and
tried to read the faded writing on the steel drum.

"I can't make out a name for the material," he said
after a moment.  "I thought that was illegal."

"It is," Lombardi replied from one side.  "But are
you sure there's anything in the drum?  The name
looks like it was scraped off."

Doggett knocked on the side of the drum.  "No, there
is definitely something in there.  Sounds like some
kind of liquid."

"The writing is Portuguese," Quintana muttered.
"And the rest of the markings suggest that this stuff
came out of Brazil."

Doggett turned towards Tommy, his expression grave.
"Londner said something about Manheimer getting a
lot of materials from a lot of isolated areas.
If this stuff came out of Brazil, is it possible
that these drums came out of some part of the Amazon?"

"What would that have to do with anything?" Tommy asked.

"Well, I'm not sure about this," Doggett admitted, "but
I seem to remember a lot of stories about huge insects
and bizarre diseases coming out of remote areas in the
Amazon rain forest."

Doggett gestured towards the ceiling.  "This is a small
company, or at least a small building, and from the
impression I get, it amounts to the same thing.  A
small flavor and fragrance company would have to find
some way to survive, especially with the bigger 
companies starting to merge and cutting them out of the
action.

"So what are the chances that they would start looking
for some special ingredient, something only they knew
was out there in the rain forest.  Maybe something that
was recently discovered in one of the areas just cleared
by some other operation."

"I get it," Tommy interrupted.  "They start shipping
this stuff in, and then they take off the label in order
to keep it a trade secret."  He pointed to the drum.
"Something on there has to be something only Manheimer
would recognize."

"All right, so it was technically legal," Doggett said
with a smirk.  "But I'm betting that a few days ago,
maybe a few weeks ago, they got one of these shipments.
Only there was something else in the shipment, hiding
on one of these skids."

"Those worms?" Lombardi asked, sweeping the floor 
suddenly with the beam of his flashlight.

"Or an adult," Doggett reasoned.  "It's possible 
that the bug was actually living in the drum.  Agent 
Scully said that there was an unknown organic chemical 
in the residue from the soil and from the crime scene."  
He nodded towards the drum.  "Dollars to doughnuts, 
this is the stuff."

"Johnny, look over here," Tommy said, pointing the beam
of his flashlight away from the drum and towards the
concrete floor. by the open gate.  "Some sort of hose."

Doggett stepped away from the pallet of drums, careful
to stay within the confines of the officers' 
illumination.  Bending down, he saw a clear plastic, 
steel-lined hose filled with a greenish liquid.

"That hose is connected to the top of one of these 
drums,"  Quintana said, tracing the line back to 
its source.

"Yeah, but where does it end?" Doggett asked, as he 
sstoo and began slowly following the hose out of the 
caged area.  He walked along the length of the hose, 
past a number of connecting sections, until he found 
himself about twenty feet away, staring at a large 
metal door set into the concrete wall at the front 
of the building.

Tommy read the sign on the door.  "Terpene Storage."

"Must be some kind of underground storage tank," 
Janeczko muttered.  "Oil of some kind?"

"Londner mentioned something about essential oils, 
like some of flavor ingredient," Doggett added.  
"I guess terpenes would be one of those.  The 
question is, is the stuff in those drums terpenes, 
or is it something else?"

"Guess we have to take a look," Tommy said, and when
Doggett nodded, the officers took position around the
door, making doubly sure to keep the entire doorway
lit.

"One, two, three," Doggett said confidently, and then
pushed the door wide open.  It slammed against the
concrete wall with a satisfying thump, but beyond the
echo throughout the garage, nothing left the unknown
room.

Lombardi was the first to inspect the immediate
interior.  "The hose goes off to the left.  Some
kind of sewer line along the front wall."  Once
Quintana took position behind him, he took a better
look.  "Sewer line leads to a sump.  Past that, the
hose goes into another small door.  It's also
marked 'Terpene Storage'."

"So Manheimer, or someone in the company, is pumping
that stuff from the Amazon into this large storage
tank," Tommy said, looking to Doggett.  "OK, call me
crazy, but why?"

"I don't know any more than you," Doggett replied.
Then he stepped into the interior of the storage
room.  "But I think we might want to find out where
the stuff in that storage tank comes out."

Doggett gestured for the other four men to take up a
defensive position around the doorway.  Once he was
sure that they would be able to cover him while also
keeping an eye on the vicinity of the doorway, he
carefully stepped towards the small door leading to
the storage tank itself.

When he came to the small door, he readied his weapon
and slowly opened it.  A quick inspection of the room
showed a very large metal storage tank.  The floor was
lightly stained from the strange greenish liquid from
the drums.  Doggett noticed that the stain was more of
a yellowish color, but he filed that away for future
reference.  The first priority was figuring out if there
was a processing pipe leading away from the tank.

He was already bent slightly into the room, his feet
planted close to the edge of the deep sump, when he
heard the faint humming.  He went completely still,
his eyes widening as he tried to figure out where
his attacker would be coming from.  A light, feathery
caress slid along his calf, and he realized that he
would not be able to turn in time to shoot.

Instead, in one fluid motion, he lurched into the
storage tank chamber, screaming at the same time,
"The sump!"

Shots rang out with explosive thunder as chips of
concrete became shrapnel as they ricocheted against
the end of the metal tank.  The sharp bite of concrete
quickly turned to a stinging heat as burning liquid
sprayed onto his legs and back.  Doggett resisted the
urge to flip over, knowing that he should confine the
acid burns to his legs and the Kevlar vest.

A few seconds later, his ears still ringing from the
overwhelming sound of echoing gunfire, he pulled himself
to his knees.  He knew that Tommy and the other officers
were probably calling out to him, to know if he was all
right, but he could do little more than wave his hand
through the open doorway.  When Tommy finally rushed
into view, Doggett gestured to his ears, shaking his 
head.

Tommy nodded with a smile, and pointing to the ground
while running a finger across his exposed neck.  "Dead,"
he mouthed, and then gestured towards the storage rank,
raising an eyebrow in question.

Doggett shrugged, and resumed searching for the pipe
leading away from the storage tank.  He was no longer
worried about finding another one of the insects, now
that the one they were hunting had been killed, but
there were still some other questions that had to be
answered.

Finally, a few moments later, he found something that
looked promising.  "I think that's the one," he said
loudly, his ears still ringing badly.  "Connects to
the middle of the tank, then goes along the wall and
into the room over our heads."

Tommy nodded.  "Sounds about right."  Recognition seemed
to flash in his eyes.  "If that pipe goes into some room,
then I think this is right below that room that Londner
said was some sort of hot storage room."

"I remember that," Doggett said, slightly softer this
time.  "Sensitive materials."

Tommy helped Doggett to his feet, and together they
walked carefully back into the garage.  Doggett felt
a slight breeze on his lower legs, from where the
acidic fluid from the insect had burned through his
jeans.  The skin underneath was a little stiff, but
nothing that would need immediate medical attention.

Once they were all back into the open area of the
garage, he gathered them all together.  "That must
have been the insect from Calzaretta," Doggett said,
trying hard to keep his tone down.  "We have a clear
progression of victims now, and the source of the
infection.

"Manheimer gets this unknown material on the cheap
from South America, which harbors some kind of unknown
insect," Tommy continued.  "Calzaretta gets infected
and that where we got involved."  He turned to Doggett.
"Johnny, that doesn't add up."

"Exactly," Doggett said with a frown.  "We saw how
quickly the infection from that insect can lead one
of those things melting down a human body.  Ciccone
didn't make it more than fifteen minutes, tops.  So
that means that Calzaretta was already in the warehouse
across the street when he was infected.

"This material is dated recently, so I doubt it was
moved.  Most of the employees relocated to Jersey
before the shipment, I would guess.  So someone,
maybe the person who ordered this stuff in the first
place, lured Calzaretta into the warehouse.

"Koenig said that he gave Londner a key to that
warehouse.  Londner told you, Tommy, that the
key was missing as of a few days ago.  That fits
with the possible date of the last shipment and
the time of death of the first victim."

Doggett pointed towards the storage room door.  "In
the meantime, someone has been pumping the liquid
from those drums into the large storage tank down
here into a room that Londner made sure we didn't
get a look at.  If all of the operations are moved
to Jersey, what reason is there to continue pumping
material into that room?"

Doggett shook his head.  "We know that someone from
this company was imported a possibly illegal material
into the country, and that the same person probably
found out about the insect.  When Calzaretta found out,
someone set him up and used the insect to kill him.
That same someone might have intentionally kept the
insect inside that storage room."

"Why?" Lombardi asked, shaking his head.

"To keep anyone from finding out about this operation
down here," Tommy answered.  "That place is completely
dark, and isolated.  No way for an infected person to
get out."

"And we know that the worms drive their hosts in the
dark, so they can gestate," Doggett added.  He shook
his head.  "Londner is supposed to be some kind of
regulatory officer.  He would have had the means and
the know-how to get that material into the country
without attracting undue attention."

"So Londner is the one behind this?" Quintana said,
turning to Tommy.  "I thought he was some old guy.
How is a skinny old man going to control those things?"

"He might not have been working alone," Doggett said.
"He could have been taking orders from someone higher
in the company.  Maybe that's why he was the one out
here showing us the building and the crime scene."

Then Doggett shook his head.  "That makes no sense.
Leaving that insect in the storage room...that would
allow the worms to get into the sewer system through
the sump.  If they were trying to hide the operation,
letting some lethal infestation into the environment
would be a quick way to ruin that plan.

"And if they wanted to keep all of this secret, then
why would they kill Calzaretta in the abandoned
warehouse?  And why let the worms escape the crime
scene?"

"Unless they didn't know about the worms," Janeczko
said quietly.

"Then how would they have known that the evidence would
be destroyed?" Doggett answered.  "No, there is some
kind of rationale here.  The pieces just don't fit
together the way we want them to."

Doggett ran down the series of events again.  "Someone
ordered this material, brought it to this facility,
and then stored it down here for some unknown operation.
Sometime after that, Calzaretta was infected across the
street in the abandoned warehouse.

"We've accounted for the insect down here that must
have infected Calzaretta.  We've accounted for the
worms from that infection, and the insect from Ferrara.
And Agent Scully told us that the worms, when they
find a large enough host..."

Doggett realized what he had been missing.  "Wait.
If a human is a large enough host to create an
adult, then what happened to the insect from Calzaretta?
Unless this was the insect from Calzaretta."  Doggett
gestured back to the storage room.

"Which means that Calzaretta was infected by another
one," Tommy said, looking suddenly into the darkness.

"That's exactly what it means," Doggett said with a
smile.  But just as quickly, that smile disappeared.
"And that means..."

His words were cut off as a shrill beeping escaped
from his cell phone.

"Agent Scully," he whispered to himself, as he lifted 
the phone to his ear.

***

Washington, DC

1:32 AM

"John Doggett," the voice said from the other end of
the line.  "Is this Agent Scully?"

Skinner took a deep breath, and then answered.  "No,
Agent Doggett.  This is Skinner."

"Is Agent Scully all right?"  Doggett said urgently.
His fear for Scully was clearly drawn in the tone of
his voice.

"She was attacked by some kind of giant insect,"
Skinner said with an obvious level of impatience.
"That led to a very dangerous situation.  She's
in the hospital waiting for a diagnosis, and the
results of some tests."

"Was she infected by the insect?" Doggett asked,
insistent.

"Yes, but she was able to deal with that problem,"
Skinner assured him.  "But that did lead to another
situation."  Skinner stopped himself before he could
say anything more.

"As long as she's all right," Doggett said, after a
pause.  There was the sound of a heavy sigh.  "I
suppose that this is no longer under wraps?"

"You might say that."  Skinner had to restrain the
bitter laugh that threatened to escape his throat.
"Kersh sounded like he was ready to have a coronary.
He demanded that I inform him of your whereabouts,
your involvement in this case, and the reason why
Scully was participating in an unauthorized case."

"What did you tell him?"  Doggett's tone sounded
resigned.

"As little as possible, but I think that he might
have figured out the rest," Skinner said, running
his free hand over his head.  "He's demanding that
he get a full report as soon as the situation is
resolved."  Skinner paused.  "You have any idea
when that might be?"

"I have a suspect, but we have another one of
those things to find before I'll feel comfortable
leaving the area."

Skinner cursed slightly, and then apologized when
a nurse glared at him from across the hall.  "Why
don't you just have some of the other officers
find him?"

There was a pause, and then Doggett lowered his
voice.  "No need.  He just showed up."

***

Long Island City, NY

1:45 AM

Doggett stared at Londner as the old man slowly
walked towards them.  There seemed to be an odd
expression on his face, something that seemed to
betray some semblance of deception.  Doggett
forced himself to erase such assumptions from
his thoughts.  It was far too early to judge
guilt or innocence.

"Mr. Londner," Doggett said, stepping slightly
into the man's path.  "Can we help you?"

Londner seemed to stir out of his own thoughts,
and shook his head.  "I'm not sure.  There were
reports of gunshots, so I came to see what was
going on."

Doggett gave Tommy a bemused glance.  "Well, it's
good timing.  We were about to call you and ask
you a few questions."

"Call me?" Londner asked.

"That's right," Tommy said, as the other officers
slowly started walking towards Londner.

"We found your killer," Doggett said, stepping
towards Londner.  "Some kind of killer bug came
in on one of your shipments, Mr. Londner.  One
of those drums in that cage."

"Then this is over?" Londner said, his eyes full
of sudden hope.

"Not quite," Tommy replied sarcastically.

"What do you mean?" Londner demanded, his hopeful
expression now turned to something far less
pleasing.

"There's another one out there, besides the one
that killed Calzaretta," Doggett explained.  "Or
the one we killed was the one that came out of
him when he died."

"Killed?" Londner asked, his voice strained.

"Killed," Doggett said, now quite close to Londner,
looking down in the man's face.  "So we need to
find this other bug, Mr. Londner, before anyone
else can get infected.  And that's means looking
around on this piece of property a little more."

"Like that room upstairs," Tommy said from one
side.  "You know, the one that you're pumping all
of this stuff into?"

Londner paused, and then nodded.  "I think that
we could do that, if you think it's necessary."

"I think that would be wise," Doggett said as he
gestured towards the other end of the garage.
"We came down here from the shipping area, and
as I recall, that room was not too far away.
How about we go there now?"

"We'll need the key first," Londner said, as he
turned towards the door.  "It's locked."

Doggett and Tommy exchanged glances again, and
Doggett nodded with a grin.  "All right, then,
we'll stop at your office, pick up the key,
and then go to room.  But let's be clear.  No
other side trips."

Londner nodded, and with the escort of the three
officers and their flashlights, they made their
way to Londner's office.  The lights were already
on, something that Doggett found to be alarming.

"Tommy," he whispered as he stepped over to his
friend.  "Do you remember any of the lights being
on when we came in earlier?"

"Nope," Tommy replied, as quietly as Doggett.

"Seems rather odd for a man concerned about
some gunshots to take the time to open up
the office like this," Doggett added.  "Not
to mention when there is an unidentified
killer out on the loose."  Then he remembered
something that Londner had said moments before.

"Mr. Londner," he said, stepping towards the
man.  "You mind telling me who reported those
gunshots to you?"

Londner stopped at his office door, staring
into Doggett's eyes.  "What do you mean?"

"You said someone reported the gunshots
down there," Doggett said, returning the stare.
"Who reported it?  And why would they report
it to you?"

Londner paused, and then stammered out, "Mr.
Manheimer is a member of the local community
board.  We always get calls from the local
businesses if they notice anything out of the
ordinary on our property."

"That's fine, Mr. Londner, but who's around
this place at this time of the morning?"
Doggett gestured towards the back of the building.
"Or can't you be more specific?"

Londner attempted to open the door to his office,
but Doggett casually held it shut as he leaned
closer to Londner's face.  "And while we're at
it, why don't you tell me how it is that you
managed to show up so soon after we killed that
insect.  Where did you say you live, Mr. Londner?"

"I've been staying nearby," Londner replied, his
voice strained.  "Now, if you want to get into
that room, you're going to have to let me into
my office.  On the other hand, if you want to
question me, arrest me and get it over with."

Doggett hesitated for a moment, and then moved
away from the door.  "Get that key, Mr. Londner.
And after we see that room, maybe we'll talk
about that arrest."

Leaving Tommy and the other officers by the
entrance, Doggett stepped into Londner's office,
forcing his eyes to adjust to the light.  He
looked around at the papers strewn across the
floor, as well as the way that the furniture
was arranged, and gave Londner a guarded look.

"Just how long were you in this office before you
came down to check on things?"

"Not long," Londner said, as he stepped behind a
cubicle wall.  "The key is right back here.
Give me a second."

Doggett made sure that he could keep an eye on
Londner's movements, or at least the top of the
old man's head, while he inspected the office a
little more closely.  He heard a knock behind
his head, and saw Tommy through one of the office
windows, giving him a questioning look.  Doggett
simply nodded that everything was all right, and
turned back to see what Londner was doing.

Suddenly, the lights in the office went out.

Doggett flicked the switch on his flashlight,
pointing it towards Londner as he cursed under
his breath.  The man was standing completely still,
trembling slightly, but otherwise he was not
responding to the light shining at his face.

"Mr. Londner?" Doggett asked, taking a step closer
to the cubicle wall.  "Mr. Londner, are you all
right?  Was that you?"

Doggett was about to step around the cubicle wall
when he saw Londner begin to shake harder as a
loud, slick slap of liquid fell to the floor.
Doggett scanned the floor just in time to see
a thin layer of greenish liquid spread out near
his feet.

Suddenly he realized why the floor and walls had
the distinctive stain, and he ran for the door
as the first glimpse of the emerging insect slipped
over the edge of the cubicle wall.

"Close the door, close the door!" Doggett cried
as he dove to the ground near the officers' feet.
Tommy, who had been watching from the window,
quickly complied, knowing the reason why his friend
was so panicked.  The distinctive hum of the insect's
wings began echoing within the office walls just as
they managed to slam the door closed.

"That thing was in Londner," Doggett said, as he
pulled himself to his feet.

"But Londner was still alive," Quintana said,
backing away from the door.  "How could that
thing have been growing inside of him, without
it showing?"

"Must have been in him all this time," Tommy said
as he tried to shine his flashlight into the office
through the window.  "Maybe it was controlling him
or something.  Maybe we can-"

Tommy jumped back as the window cracked into a
spider's web as the insect attempted to spear
his head through the glass.  The rest of the men
focused their beams on the window, chasing the
insect away, but they all knew that it was just
a matter of time.

"All right," Doggett said, pulling out his weapon
and pointing it at the window.  "Next time that
thing tries to come through the window, we-"

"Johnny!" Tommy shouted, as a sudden lurch of
machinery sounded from the direction of the shipping
floor.  "That locked door is moving!"

"You two, keep your lights on the office window.
Lombardi, follow my lead!"  Doggett took a few steps
away from the office, and along with Lombardi and
Tommy, tried to get a look at what was happening.
The beams of their flashlights hit the opening
under the rising door just in time to stop another
of the insects from rushing at them.

"There must be a control in the office," Tommy
said, backing close to Doggett.  "Johnny, we have
to get out of here."

Doggett looked around, and remembered that there was
an employee's entrance just to one side of the office
bunker.  "All right, let's try the door over here!"
Grabbing Quintana and Janeczko, Doggett started running
for the side of the office bunker.  Distracted by the
sudden noise of their footfalls, he almost missed the
hum of an impending attack.

He dodged to the right as an insect's stinger ripped
through the air where his shoulder had been, pulling
two men to the ground at the same time.  He heard
a scream, and looking up, he saw Janeczko pinned to
the concrete of the bunker, the stinger lodged in
his arm.

Doggett heard movement in the direction of the doorway,
and realized that it was a trap.  The insects that had
escaped must have caught up with them, and the most
obvious exits would be blocked.  He looked over his
shoulder, and saw that the way to the door leading into
the main offices was clear.  It would mean having to
find his way out of the maze of hallways in order to
escape, but it was their only chance.

"Get out of here," he heard, and he saw that Janeczko
had grabbed the insect with his free arm, keeping
it from attacking someone else.  His pinned arm was
slowly moving up, the gun still in his hand.  "I'll
cover you!  Just go!"

"You heard him!" Doggett said, knowing better than to
waste time.  "Tight formation, and keep your lights
moving in all directions!  Cover everything you can,
and we might make it!"

"Johnny, we can't just him," Quintana said, resisting,
but Doggett took him by the back of his vest and
pulled him towards the door.  Lights swirling all
around them, they ran as fast as they could to the
door, pulling it open with only the slightest thought
for whether or not it was clear.  As they slammed
the door shut behind them, they heard the shatter of
the office window as Londner's insect escaped, followed
immediately by a series of gunshots and one final
harrowing scream from Janeczko.

"Jerry!" Quintana cried out, reaching for the door, 
but Doggett and Tommy grabbed him before he could 
open the door.

"Knock it off, Hector," Tommy said, too harshly.  
"He's dead.  We need to get out of here and find a 
way to seal this place off."

"That's right," Doggett agreed.  "The main thing is to
get out of here and find a way to contain these things
so we can call in the CDC or something.  Although I 
have to wonder what they're going to be able to do 
about something like this."

"Burn the place to the ground," Tommy muttered, 
pulling out his weapon.  He checked the clip, and 
then shook his head.  "I'm running pretty low.  
How about the rest of you?"

"Same here," Lombardi said, swearing as he reloaded, 
and Quintana reluctantly nodded the same.

"I'm close to full," Doggett said.  "The rest of you 
must have run low killing the one down in that storage 
tank room.  Which means that we have to stick together, 
and try not to waste what we have."

Doggett heard something above his head, and checked 
to see if the others reacted as well.  His heart sank 
as he saw the looks on their faces.

"The ductwork," Tommy said softly.

"Must have some of the A/C units in the production area,"
Doggett said under his breath.  "All right, that just
means we have to move a little faster.  Anyone remember
where the other doors out of this place were located?"

"There was one in the back, close to the corner of the
building," Quintana said.  "I noticed that when we were
setting up outside the trailer.  But I have no idea how
to get there from inside."

"That might be the door by the first aid room," Doggett
replied, suddenly very glad that they had taken the
guided tour with Londner.  "Something just occurred to
me.  If that thing was controlling Londner, why would
he have insisted on showing us the layout of the 
building yesterday?"

Tommy nodded.  "I was just thinking the same thing."

"It could have been some kind of diversion," Lombardi
said, shrugging his shoulders.  "Tommy, you mentioned
that Londner said it might have been some other employee
that was involved."

"Yeah, but why show us the building?" Doggett said.
He shook his head.  "No, he was trying to warn us all
along.  Pointing out specific places that were hard to
get in or out of, where the exits were, indirectly
telling us things the entire time."

"He must have been the one to first find the insects from
the illegal shipment," Tommy said.  "It must have taken
him as some kind of host.  It explains why he looks so
bad these days."

"Maybe," Doggett said, checking his gear one last time.
"But at this point, it doesn't matter.  We have to get
out of the building.  Besides the back exit, does anyone
remember any other way out of here?"

"The front door," Lombardi said, pointing in the rough
direction of the lobby.  "It shouldn't be far."

"Yeah, but it's also the first place that these things
are going to expect us to go."  Doggett shook his head.
"Back exit it is.  And if I remember correctly, that
means that we have to take a left down the next hallway,
past the labs, and then a right before we hit the lunch
room.  Somewhere back there, in the opposite corner,
ought to be the exit."

Doggett took a few steps away from the production 
entrance, shining his light along the wall to his left.  
It caught the edge of the hallway within about ten feet.

"This way," he said, taking the lead.  "Tommy, you cover
us as we move.  Lock any doors that we pass through, if
you can.  Lombardi, Quintana, I want you to stand at 
either side, just behind me.  Keep Tommy just behind you.  
Face out if you can.  The idea is to cover as much 
ground with your light as you can.  Remember to listen 
carefully for any sounds coming out of the ducts above 
our heads.  If we stay quiet, we should hear them coming."

Following Doggett's lead, they moved slowly around the
corner, keeping an eye out for any unexpected moment.
The constant motion of the lighting around them made
that task difficult, but they quickly fell into a set
pattern that allowed them to move a little more quickly.

They passed through one door, and Doggett paused to see
where they were.  They were definitely at the end of the
long lab hallway.  A bright red exit sign palely lit
the hall about halfway down the stretch, across from
the entrance to the large central QC lab.  A second
exit sign marked the door that led to the back hallway,
the one that would take them to the back exit.

Doggett flashed his light into each room as they slowly
passed by each lab door, making sure that there was 
nothing waiting to surprise them by bursting through 
one of the windows.  By the time that they were almost 
under the first exit sign, Doggett was beginning to 
wonder if they were going to make it without resistance.

"Hold it," Tommy said, and the rest of them stopped in
mid-stride.  "I heard something just overhead."

They all stood absolutely still, waiting for another 
noise, and then they all heard a creak of movement 
roughly above the exit sign itself.  Doggett was about 
to wave for them to move more quickly down the hall, to 
try to make it to the second exit sign and the safety 
of the next hallway, when a loud crunch of metal and 
plaster erupted from the ceiling in that very direction.

"Everybody, through the door, now!"  Doggett let loose
two shots at the oncoming insect, the second shot ripping
through one wing and slowing it down.  As a second insect
burst through the ceiling directly above where they were
standing, Doggett dove through the doorway and slammed it
shut behind him.  Locking the door, he swung around to
find the others.

"Is there any other way out of here?" Doggett asked, as
he found them behind one of the benches.

"I think there's a door over by the back of the room,"
Tommy said, risking a look over the edge of the bench.
"It should open into that other hallway."

"At least we have that much," Doggett said as he wiped
the sweat from his brow.  He took his own look, and
grimaced as he heard more noise coming from the ducts
above.  "They know where we are.  There are a few
benches between us and the door.  So we have to move
fast before they catch us in here where we can be
trapped."

Doggett jumped to his feet, flashing his light across
the room, and ran about halfway towards the other door
before sliding behind another bench.  One by one, they
all advanced to the same position, keeping an ear out
for any movement above.

"All right, we need to try for the door," Doggett said
as Lombardi crouched beside them.  "I think our best
option is to just make for the back exit before they
can react to our movements."

"We'll be more vulnerable that way," Quintana said,
his expression full of disapproval.

"We're completely vulnerable now," Doggett countered.
"If we get caught between two of these things, we could
be stuck just long enough to let others pin us down
and pick us off one by one.  I'm the only one with
even half a clip.  How long do you think we could last
if there are dozens of those things?"

"We don't know how many-"

"That's right," Doggett agreed.  "Which means we have
to assume that there are more of them than we can deal
with on our own."

"Johnny, at least one just parked over our heads,"
Tommy said, his eyes going wide.  "We're out of time
to argue."

Doggett gave Quintana a hard look, and then waved them
towards the door as they heard more creaking and
slithering in the ceiling.  Lombardi made it to the door
first, kicking it open and scanning the length of the
hall.  He waved Tommy through, and then turned to urge
Quintana on.

The ceiling exploded as one of the insects dove towards
Quintana, colliding with the running man and sending
him careening across one of the benches.  The heavy man
burst through the empty glass shelves on the bench, 
sending glass flying in all directions.

At the same time, Doggett whirled and fired as a second
insect attempted to emerge out of the ceiling, ripping
it apart and spraying its corrosive innards down on
Doggett's chest.  The Kevlar vest sizzled at the contact,
but Doggett ignored it as he launched to his feet and
checked on Quintana.

As he reached the other side of the demolished bench,
he saw Quintana rise, blood dripping from his hands
and chin.  Deep gashes covered his exposed body, and
his clothes were ripped and torn.  A sharp shard of
glass was gripped in one hand, greenish liquid bubbling
on its length.

"Did you kill it?" Doggett asked, his weapon at the
ready.

"Yeah," Quintana said, nodding towards the ground.
"Before it could get me, anyway."  He looked towards
Doggett.  "Can this stuff get into you through a cut
or something?"

"I don't know," Doggett admitted.  Then he realized
they were wasting time, and he quickly took Quintana
by the arm.  "Come on, you can let us know how you
feel when we get out of here."

They ran for the door, Lombardi urging them on, just
as Tommy returned from checking the short hallway
leading to the back room.  "The way to the back exit
looks clear," he said, waving them on.  "But I don't
know how long that will last."

The four of them ran towards the back exit, Lombardi
covering them along the way.  They could hear movement
over their heads, but when they emerged in the back
room near the exit, there were no longer any ducts
for them to hide in.  They appeared to have made it
to safety.

"All right, let's get the hell out of here," Quintana
said, wiping his forehead with his bloodied hand.
He pushed on the emergency bar on the door, and then
frowned when nothing happened.  "What the hell!"

"It's jammed?" Doggett said, his expression finally
betraying some hint of worry.

"Completely," Quintana said, pushing harder and getting
no response.  He carefully inspected the door, and then
cursed when he looked more closely at the lock.  "This
thing needs a key.  The emergency bar was disabled when
the building was abandoned, and they installed a lock
to keep anyone out."

"So we can't get out, and they know exactly where we
are," Lombardi said, just as they began hearing noise
coming from the walls on the second floor.

"It won't be long before they get through," Doggett
observed.  "We need to decide what to do now."

Tommy pointed to the first aid room next to the blocked
exit.  "Londner told us that there was no way to get
in or out of that room.  We could hide in there and call
for backup, let someone know what we're up against."

Doggett looked inside the first aid room, checking the
ceiling, and shook his head.  "The ceiling is just the
floor to that area above our heads, the place where they
used to keep the retention samples.  It's wood.  That's
not going to stop them for long.  Besides, that lock
can be opened with a key, and three guesses who would
have something like that."

"Londner," Tommy said, stating the obvious.

"Exactly," Doggett said, and then he snapped his fingers.
"But there is someplace Londner told us about that might
do the trick.  All we have to do is make it down the
executive hall and get to the computer room."

"Why there?" Quintana asked, still staring at the source
of the noise above.

"Londner made point to tell us that the room has an
automatic lock that keeps anyone out, including him."

"And he specifically said that the computer room has
its own dedicated and separate ventilation system,"
Tommy said with a grin.

"Which means that if we made it there, we could call
for backup and wait them out," Doggett said.  "And
if I remember correctly, that room has outside windows,
meaning that we would only have to wait a few hours for
the sun to come up."

"Those searchlights should still be out there, or at
least close by," Tommy added.  "One way or another, if
we can get to that room, we should be all right."

"Then let's do it," Lombardi said, pointing to the door.
"Those things aren't going to wait."

Doggett counted to three, and then they ran for the
door as fast as possible.  He was reasonably sure
that he knew the way, which meant that he would be
taking the lead.  Bursting through the first door, he
waited just long enough for Quintana to hold it behind
him before running for the next door that would open
into the executive row.

Doggett burst through the second door, and immediately
heard a humming to his right.  He brought his light
around instantly, catching the attacking insect in
its blinding illumination.  Letting off one kill shot
before dodging to the left, he noticed that there were
a number of other insects coming from the same direction.
They had apparently been waiting in the stairwell leading
to the second floor.

"Come on!" Doggett screamed, firing at a few more insects
before joining the others in a mad dash to the end of the
executive row.  The hall was wide enough that they could
run side to side and still all see the computer room that
they were rapidly approaching.  As they all rushed to
the doorway, Doggett and Tommy whirled, snapping off a
few more shots at the oncoming bugs.

"I'm out!" Tommy suddenly cried, as Lombardi pulled the
door open.  "Come on, no more time!"

Doggett picked off one more insect, and then jumped into
the computer room, pulling the door closed behind him.
His fingers found the trigger for the automatic lock,
and he activated it.  For better or worse, they were
now trapped in the room, with the insects unable to
get into the room without a great deal of work.

He turned to Tommy, shaking his head.  "We're not going
to wait until dawn.  We have to get those big lights out
here now."

"I'll call them in," Tommy answered.  "Where do you want
them?"

Doggett pointed to the wide windows.  "Out there.  We
can try to catch as many of them as possible by keeping
those lights off until they manage to get in.  And then
we hit the lights and take them out all at once."

Tommy nodded, and as Quintana and Lombardi opened the
blinds and moved as much of the remaining equipment away
from the windows, Doggett inspected the rest of the room.
There were a couple of bare desks sitting to one side,
with mostly empty racks used for displaying computer
equipment on a raised section to the other side.  The
windows spread across the entire length of the room,
as well as the width of the room on one side.  A small,
thin closet was behind one of the desks, which also had
a window along its length.

Turning around at a sudden noise, Doggett realized that
they were going to run out of time faster than he had
suspected.

"Tommy, did you get through to the dispatch?"

Tommy turned and nodded.  "Yeah, Johnny.  Fifteen
minutes."

"I hope that's long enough."  Doggett pointed to the
doorway, and then to the walls beside it.  They were
made completely of glass.  "It's double thick, but
those things can get through Kevlar like it's tissue
paper."  A quick flash of his light forced the insects
to jump away from the glass, and he counted about
ten of them.

"Jesus," Tommy swore.  "How many of these things are
there?"

"I'm thinking that this might be the rest of them,"
Doggett said.  "Or maybe all of them except for the
one that controlled Londner.  More than that, and 
the number of people who would have had to die to
create these things would have become noticeable."

"But how did he manage to kill this many people in the
first place?" Lombardi asked, from his position at the
window.  "There had to be at least twenty of them so
far."

Doggett turned back to Tommy.  "How long has Londner
been looking like that?  Not healthy, I mean?"

"A while," Tommy admitted.  "Maybe a few weeks, or
even a couple months, when you start talking about
when he started losing the weight."

"Which means he had plenty of time to find vagrants,
homeless, all kinds of people who might never be
noticed."  Doggett shrugged.  "He locks him in that
room, where he keeps them fed with that constant
supply of fluid they must need.  And who's the wiser?"

"Until he slips, intentionally or not," Tommy added.
"When Calzaretta died in the warehouse across the
street, when he learned too much."

"And the insect that came out of him never made it
back into the hiding place," Doggett reasoned.  He
turned towards the doorway again as he heard another
loud crash into the glass.  He noticed that small
stars where starting to appear here and there in the
glass, as it threatened to shatter.

"Running out of time," he said, scanning the room
for a weapon.  His eyes fell on a discarded fire
extinguisher, and he glanced at the closet again.

"They're here," Quintana said, pointing to the trucks
as they pulled onto the road outside.  "They'll just
need a few minutes to get everything ready."

Another hard slam into the glass left a small crack
on its surface.  Doggett pointed to the closet.
"We're out of time.  Everybody in there.  When these
things break in, we want them to have a reason to stay
until those lights can hit them."

He grabbed the fire extinguisher and ran into the
closet, the others not far behind.  Quintana moved
a bit slowly, the loss of blood starting to take its
toll, but they were all safely locked in the closet
by the time the first loud shatter of sound marked
the entrance of the insects into the computer room.

Something slid across the surface of the wooden door,
and then there was a harder knock.  Doggett took the
extinguisher in both hands, and turned to Tommy.
"Tell them to get those lights on now!  Everybody,
drop and cover!"

No longer listening to Tommy's strained voice from
the floor or the sound of the insects shredding and
splintering the door behind him, Doggett pounded the
extinguisher into the outside window.  The window
stubbornly resisted, but he continued to pound as
hard as he could, even as the door exploded and slivers
of wood surrounded him, biting into his exposed arms
and face.  Gunshots echoed around him as the officers
at his feet shot blindly into the throng of onrushing
attackers.

There was a sudden burst of blinding light, and with
a scream, Doggett felt the extinguisher penetrate
through the window, sending pellets of glass raining
through the air.  He fell forward, the remaining glass
stinging his arms and hands, and then turned to face
what remained of the threat, his eyes still stinging
from the brightness of the searchlights.

The mass of insects had instantly reacted to the
combination of bullets and intense light, melting
into one spreading pool of corrosive fluid.  Quintana,
Lombardi, and Tommy rose to their feet and started
to climb out of the shattered window, calling for
Doggett to do the same before the liquid reached his
feet.

Doggett nodded, and slowly pulled himself out of the
room and onto solid ground.  A medical technician ran
to his side, but he waved her off, pointing to Quintana.
"He's hurt worse than I am, and he might be infected,"
he said, as he accepted a fresh towel from the worried
woman.

As soon as the other officers were taken care of, 
Tommy ran over to Doggett.  "Everything seems secure.  
I called for a couple more trucks to come and take 
position around the building.  I think we need to 
seriously consider calling in official federal help 
on this one."

"I'm your help right now, Tommy, and it might as well be
official," Doggett said with a weary grin.  "My leave
was over hours ago.  It's my job to make sure we bring
this to some kind of resolution."

"What do you suggest?" Tommy asked, almost laughing.
"Calling in the National Guard?"

Doggett reached for his cellphone, and then cursed when
saw that it was mangled beyond recognition.  "Here's
what you can do.  I'm going to give you the number for
my direct superior, Assistant Director Walter Skinner.
Tell him that we have assessed the situation, and that
I have determined that the best way to deal with this
situation is to exterminate whatever kind of nest we
have here."

"Me?" Tommy asked, staring at Doggett with growing
apprehension.  "Why can't you call yourself?"

"Because someone has to go back in there before Londner,
or whatever is controlling him, tries to get away before
it's surrounded by these searchlights."  Doggett raised
his hand with a smile.  "I appoint myself."

"You're not going alone," Tommy disagreed.  "I'm coming
with you."

"No, you're not," Doggett insisted.  "Listen, Tommy,
you have a family to think about.  I don't, and you
know that.  So which of us is more expendable?  And
even if I wanted to do the smart thing and wait for
enough backup to make this easy, Londner and that thing
would be long gone."

Tommy sighed, and then shook his head.  "You can't be
sure that there's only that one left."

"You're right," Doggett said.  "But it's good odds that
I'm right."

"Fine, kill yourself, if that's what you want."  Tommy
took the slip of paper with Skinner's cell number.
"At least get yourself a fresh clip and a stronger
flashlight before you go."

Doggett checked his weapon, and then grunted his assent.
"One more thing.  I'll need some road flares, too."

Tommy raised an eyebrow.  "Road flares?"

"Call it a hunch," Doggett answered.  "I have a plan..."

***

Washington, DC

3:02 AM

"Agent Scully?"

Skinner looked into her hospital room, belatedly
making sure that she was not trying to get some
sleep.  During nights like these, he always seemed
to have a problem keeping track of time.  The fact
that he was even allowed to stalk the halls and
monitor her progress was even more damaging to his
body clock.

"I'm awake," Scully murmured.  She was still sitting
up in her hospital bed, but now she held a flimsy
piece of medical film in her hand, staring at the
picture burnt into the plate.

Skinner froze, unable to work out the expression on
her face.  "What is it?"

Scully shook her head.  "Not what I was expecting,
that's for sure."

"Is...everything all right?" he asked, trying to be
discrete.

Scully sighed, and then looked towards him as she
nodded with a slight smile.  "Apparently the sharp
pains are due to a slight pull of the diaphragm.
The doctors say it's a common enough occurrence."

"At least it wasn't what you feared," Skinner said,
slipping into one of the empty chairs by her bed.
"But I get the feeling that's not what you were
talking about when you said the news was unexpected."

"No, it's not," Scully admitted.  She lifted the
medical film again.  "They're gone."

Skinner leaened forward, staring at the film in
disbelief.  "Are you sure?"

"Hard to tell from this, I know," Scully said.
"But I watched the ultrasound.  The cysts are gone.
Both sides.  Completely dissolved and absorbed."

Skinner sat back, and after a moment of reflection,
simply shrugged.  "I wouldn't know if that's normal
or not.  But it must be a relief."

Scully sighed.  "Yeah.  A relief."  She laughed
suddenly, slipping the film back into its envelope.
"And why should I be surprised?  After all, I'm
only a barren woman giving birth to a child that
was completely unexpected.  Why should I be shocked
when something like this comes along?"

Skinner smiled, and then pointed to the film.
"No sign of any effect from that infection by the
insect?"

"None," Scully confirmed.  Suddenly, she shifted
the topic of conversation.  "How's Agent Doggett?"

"I just got a call from Detective Tommy Egan of 
the NYPD," Skinner said, pulling his cell phone
from his pocket and giving it a little wave.
"Apparently he ran into a little trouble.  Turns
out that insect is from the Amazon, or someplace
nearby.  And there was a whole nest of them hidden
on the premises of the Manheimer building.  Doggett
thinks that they got them all, but he's going to
check for himself."

"Is he out of his mind?" Scully said, a look of
complete disapproval in her eyes.  "Is he trying
to get himself killed?"

"According to Detective Egan," Skinner said with
a smirk, "one of those insects was controlling
the man keeping watch over the building.  It may
have escaped when the other insects were dealt
with.  He wants to make sure it doesn't sneak out
before the building can be secured."

Scully shook her head, and then slumped back into
her pillows.

"Is there some reason that all of my partners have
this death wish?"

***

Long Island City, NY

3:15 AM

Doggett stood just inside the employee entrance
of the Manheimer building, checking the flares
to make sure they were secured in his belt.  He
had already double-checked his clip, making sure
it was full, and the flashlight in his hand had
been refit with fresh batteries.

Tommy had practically begged him to keep wearing
the Kevlar vest, but Doggett wove him off.  "We
both know it's useless," he had told his friend,
"and besides, the vest would just reduce my range
of motion."

And so he was standing in his tattered jeans and
the remains of his black muscle shirt, sweat and
dirt smeared on his arms and shoulders, weapon
and flashlight in hand.

The NYPD had moved one of the searchlights into
position behind him, and so his path was clear
for half the distance to the concrete bunker
where Londner had last been seen.  There was no
assurance that the man would still be there, or
that he would even be involved, but it was the
logical place to begin his sweep of the building.

Within moments, he was standing at the solid door
that marked the interior of the building.  He gave
Tommy a nod, and then he kicked the door open,
letting the blinding light from the outside spill
into the expanse of the production area before
running in.

Before the thick metal door slammed closed, leaving
him in darkness once again, he was rounding the
corner to the production office, sweeping the
interior with the beam of his flashlight.  Shards
of glass littered the concrete floor where the insect
had burst out of the locked bunker.  When a cursory
inspection of the office yielded no signs of Londner,
Doggett pushed the door open and checked behind the
cubicle wall.

The fabric was frayed from repeated exposure to the
insect's corrosive fluids, and the floor was discolored
and worn down to the concrete, but there was no sign
of Londner or his probable remains.  That was hardly
conclusive, since the other bodies had been completely
consumed, but Doggett still had the feeling that the
man's body was still in use.

Doggett went still, listening for any hint of the
tell-tale humming of the insect's wings.  But there
was nothing.  A moment passed, and he decided that
it was long past time to lure the beast to him.

He ran quickly to the shipping area, still sweeping
every shadow and crevice with light, and found that
the door that had concealed the other insects was
still open.  He took a quick look at what remained,
and nearly dropped the flashlight when his vision
finally registered what it was seeing.

The walls and floor were covered with a thick layer
of green fluid, which had long since eaten away the
paint and coating from the surfaces.  Within that
fluid, thousands upon thousands of larvae slithered
and snaked over each other, searching for some source
of food and reproduction.

Doggett felt himself starting to wretch, but he
stopped himself when he realized how much danger
he was in.  Quickly moving the beam closer to his
feet, he noticed that a growing number of worms had
left the comfort of the fluid, slowly progressing
in his direction.

Snapping out of his shock, Doggett ran to the nearest
remaining drum of material, and checked the sides of
the drum.  Sure enough, there was a flammable label
on its side, and it was full.  Londner had mentioned
something about most of the raw materials being
flammable, and Doggett was willing to bet that the
material that had harbored the insect to begin with
would be flammable too.

Doggett jumped behind the drum, and with one hard
kick to its side, pushed it over in the direction
of the open door.  The top of the drum burst open,
spilling a noxious, oily liquid across the floor
and into the larvae-filled sea.

He slipped one of the flares out of his belt,
ripping the top off and watching as the larvae
writhed as they found themselves exposed.  He
waited for a few breaths, just long enough to see
if Londner would intervene, and then he tossed the
flare into the flammable pool.

The liquid rushed into a wall of flame instantly,
lighting the room with an orange intensity in
seconds.  Doggett ran towards the loading dock
as quickly as possible, and as he dove into the
darkened space, he pushed himself against the far
wall and brought the beam of his flashlight across
the ceiling and walls to fend off any attack.

But no attack came.  Seconds later, there was a
massive explosion within the formerly hidden room,
washing Doggett with a sudden blast of heat.  He
covered his eyes, almost too late, and felt himself
break into a hard sweat as the flames quickly began
fill more than half of the shipping area itself.

Doggett wasted no more time.  He pulled himself to
his feet against the wall, and ran towards the
production area, pulling out another flare as he
passed into a darker section of the building.  The
flames in the shipping area illuminated most of the
space, but there was an entire section that was
completely shielded.

Nodding to himself, Doggett grabbed one of the
remaining drums of flammable liquid, and rolled
it close to the edge of shadow.  Forcing the bung
open, he pushed it until it began to roll, dumping
a wide swath of flammable liquid in its path.  When
the drum was nearly to the opposite wall, he tore the
top off the second flare and tossed it into the
natural oil.

The back of the production area exploded into flames,
and the drum careened into the lowered back portion
of the production area before expelling the rest of
its contents.  Doggett heard a sudden screech, and
within the space of remaining shadow in the ceiling
above, he saw the insect soar towards the doorway
leading into the office area.

Doggett aimed, firing two shots, but both missed.
Cursing, he ran towards the door to the offices,
checking on his flares along the way.  Three remained.
Between the flares and the flashlight, he wondered
if it would be enough.

Sliding the flashlight into his belt, he pulled out
another flare.  With a quick motion, he activated it,
running into the office area, drawing a line of fire
on every possible hint of motion.  When he came to
the first intersection between hallways, he stopped
and checked his position.

From his position, he could tell that the entire
executive row was lit by the searchlights still
shining in the windows of the computer room.  That
meant that nearly half of the offices on the ground
floor were covered.  The position of the lights
also told him that the rooms on executive row were
now fully lit by a new set of searchlights arranged
on that side of the building.

That left only a few areas unlit: the lab hallway,
the QC lab in the center of the building, and the
completely unknown second floor.

Doggett considered his options, and then realized
that he there were roughly four spots that he would
need to cover with the flares, and only three flares
to work with.  And those would only work if he moved
quickly.

He pushed open the door to the lab hallway, running
down its length before stopping near the door to
the back hallway.  Pulling open the door to that
hallway, he lowered his gun.  Looking slightly away,
but keeping one eye down the weapon's sight, he
fired one shot at the bottom hinge.  The door lurched
to the ground, and the top hinge bent from the weight.

Now that the door was able to stay open on it's own,
Doggett dropped the flare so that its light would
shine down both hallways and cast anything in shadow
if he were to look down either hallway from any other
position.

With only two flares left, he glanced up at the ceiling.
Unlike the production and shipping areas, there was
no place for the growing volume of smoke to escape.
It was beginning to creep through the ruptured vents
and into the offices.  Visibility would soon diminish
into a thick cloud of poison that even the searchlights
outside would not be able to penetrate.

With no time to spare, Doggett ran back down the
lab hallway, turning towards the door to the production
area.  Through the slot window, he could see that the
flames had slowly spread to cover nearly the entire
floor, and the various sprinklers along the ceiling
were not functioning.  That meant that while there was
little chance that the insect could escape the flames
to safety without detection, there was also a chance
that Doggett would be caught in the same trap.

Just beside the production door was the glass door
behind which a stairway to the second floor resided.
Pulling out his fourth flare, he pulled open the door.
With a quick motion, he activated the flare and tossed
it to the top of the stairs, covering the stairway
and presumably most of the hallway up there with its
blinding light.

Doggett reviewed the layout of the building in his
mind.  There had been no sign of the last insect during
his entire assault on the building, which meant that
it had to be in one of only a few areas.  The additions
to the back of the building had all been covered in
flames.  The fire in the larvae room would spread to
the storage tank within moments, which would no doubt
eliminate whatever might be hiding in the garage.

Covering as many possibilities as he could think of,
Doggett quickly searched the rooms on the first floor
that were not covered by the flares or the searchlights
outside.  They were all empty, and while there was 
always the chance that the insect could be in the 
ducts, the toxins in the growing flow of hot smoke 
would have to have affected it by now.

And there was the matter of Londner's body, which he
had not found, suggesting that the insect was once
again in possession of the man.

Doggett quickly came to the inevitable conclusion
that his quarry was on the second floor.  He cursed
himself for not thinking ahead, not demanding to see
that part of the building as well, and he knew that
he could not count on the flare to cover the entire
second floor on its own.

But he could count on it to cover that end of the
second floor hallway, and so he sprinted through
the front of the building and down executive row,
until he was standing at the bottom of the other
set of stairs leading into the darkness above.

Remembering the horde of insects that had emerged
from the same stairway perhaps an hour before, he
scanned the darkened corridor thoroughly before
starting up the incline.  A glass door that had
once been at the top of the stairway was now
shattered and discarded against the side of the
corridor, and Doggett had to look down for a
split-second to negotiate the climb.

As his eyes flashed back up to the hallway above,
a short stretch that joined the long hallway that
was brightly illuminated by the flare at the other
end, he saw the faint outline of a thin man within
the shadows.  The flicker of the flare's light,
caused by the rising column of smoke escaping from
the flare's burning, caused a swirl of red and
black to dance in Londner's sunken eyes.

Doggett bounded up the rest of the stairs, his
eyes firmly on Londner.  The man was watching him,
a lethal intelligence, as he stepped closer.  Even
that much closer, Doggett could only make out
a darkly lit silhouette.

Londner spoke, a deep gravelly noise.  "Do you
celebrate this slaughter?  Do you glory in the
death of a species?"

Doggett shook his head, his eyes darting towards
the darkness, wary of his vulnerable position.  He
leveled his weapon towards Londner, aiming directly
at his neck.  "It's not a matter of that, Londner.
But it's not really you, is it?"

"No," he confirmed, as he turned slightly to stare
at Doggett directly.  Only half his face was lit
in the low, swirling light, his eyes bearing down
on his opponent.  "The man was a tool.  A means to
an end.  A vehicle.  As you will be."

Doggett pulled back the trigger, taking careful aim.
"Sounds like you're the last of your kind.  But you
know what?  I don't care.  Whatever you are, however
you might be able to control that man, you're a
killer, plain and simple.  The rest is just a detail."

A wisp of smoke rose into his next breath, and as
Doggett coughed, Londner struck out without a hint
of warning.  The gun fired, the bullet slamming
Londner in the gut, and the old man was tossed
back into the darkness.  Doggett recovered quickly,
feeling around the floor for his weapon.

Giving up on the search when it was obvious that
he was wasting time, he swept the darkened portion
of the hall with the beam of his flashlight, pulling
out his final flare as he did so.

The short and long hallways met on the second floor
near an open area, but now Doggett saw that there was
a slight extension of the smaller hallway that he
had not seen while facing down Londner.  Stepping
carefully down that hall, Doggett noticed that there
was an office hidden on one side of it.

A chance sweep of light along the wall caught the
nameplate by the door, and Doggett realized that
he was at the end of the line.  It read "M. Londner",
and there was literally nowhere else for his target
to hide.  Sliding the beam into the office, it
fell on the old man's face.

Londner stood leaning against the wall, holding
his hands against the massive wound in his gut.
Strangely, there was a smile etched across his
face, even as the smoke from the raging fires
nearby began dipping towards the top of his head.

"Very good," he whispered, his voice weak.  "And
yet, you only serve our purpose."

Londner waved a bloody hand around the dark room,
inviting Doggett to inspect the man's former office.
For just a moment, Doggett did so.  That was when
he noticed how wet the carpet was under his feet,
and how it seemed to writhe.  In one corner, a
small drum with Portuguese markings stood, its
side ruptured.

"A contingency," Londner rasped, his body obviously
failing.  "For some unfortunate body to uncover,
should the others be destroyed."

A sudden pain ripped into Doggett's lower legs, and 
he stumbled backwards, resting against the wall of 
the short hallway.  He focused the light on his legs,
and saw through the tatters of his jeans that larvae
had burrowed under his skin, beginning the painful
infection that was rapidly spreading.

But his backward motion had allowed him to stumble
out of the contaminated portion of the carpet, and
he resolves himself to end it once and for all.
Taking up the flare, he ripped the top off and let
its light flash around him.  He heard Londner scream
in agony.

Forcing himself to his feet, his muscles erupting
into spasms from the invasion of pain, he tossed
the flare into Londner's office.  The floor exploded
into flames as the flare contacted the soaked carpet,
killing the larvae that had been released and leaping
onto Londner's body.

Doggett watched as Londner lurched forward, his arms
and head shaking uncontrollably.  His chest burst open
in a torrent of enflamed blood, and the insect that
had been controlling Londner emerged, racing towards
Doggett.

Knowing what the creature intended, Doggett forced
himself to dash for the stairs through the smoke.
He heard the insect impact into the wall where he
had been standing.  He tried to make it to the stairs
without losing control of his movement, but the
agony in his legs left him tumbling forward.  He
was tossed and bruised as he crashed down the stairs
headfirst, his arms unable to break his fall.

He landed just within the area covered by the
searchlights in front of the building, but the smoke
from the burning building obscured it just enough that
the insect was no longer fully disabled by it.  It
dug its stinger into his left shoulder, tossing him
into the middle of the executive row.

Every instinct within his mind screamed for him to
crawl into the nearest strip of shadow, to avoid the
light and surrender to the invasive whispers that
slithered through his consciousness.  But he fought
those instincts down, driving them away, forcing his
own desire for self-reservation to maintain control.

The pain searing through his body with every motion,
Doggett forced himself to his feet as he managed to
catch the insect across its eyes with his clenched
fists.  Stumbling towards the front of the building,
where he could see the faint outline of the officers
watching for his emergence, he waved his arms to get
their attention.

Just as he reached the shattered remains of the
computer room's entrance, the insect knocked him
to the ground with a slash across his lower back.
By now, the infection in his legs had progressed
to the point that he could no longer support his
weight, and he fell to his hands and knees as the
insect landed on his back.

A sharp pain lanced into the back of his neck, and
his jaw went tight as he shouted with gritted teeth.
"Shoot it!   Kill it!"

He saw Tommy's silhouette just before the deafening
hail of gunfire erupted through the air above him,
and the weight of the insect burrowing under his
flesh disappeared as it was torn to pieces.  Its
corrosive fluids gushed down on his bare, bloodied
back, and he screamed in agony as darkness threatened
to descend.

The last thing he saw before night fell was Tommy's
face, tears rolling down his cheeks, a distant voice
repeating his name over and over, until all was
silent.

***

Washington, DC

5 Days Later

"Agent Doggett?"

Doggett stirred out of his fitful sleep, his vision
slightly obscured by a brightness that he could not
explain.  Quickly, his vision recovered enough that
he could see the room around him, and he remembered
that he was lying in a hospital bed.

"Agent Doggett?"

He turned to one side, blinking, and saw Skinner sitting
there, looking into his eyes with concern.

"Can you see, Agent Doggett?"

"Yeah," he rasped, and almost immediately coughed.
He tried to sit up, and found that he was still slightly
weak.  He slumped back into the bed, running his hand
over his face.  Something brushed against his cheek,
and he jumped slightly, pulling the hand away in fear.
He belatedly noticed that it was just the IV.

"Take it easy, John," Skinner said, patting him lightly
on the shoulder.  "You've been through a long road to
recovery.  It took a while to work on those acid burns
up and down your back."

Doggett didn't understand at first, and then the memory
returned.  "That bug, that insect...I was infected."
Doggett's eyes fell fearfully on the shape of his legs
under the sheets.  "My legs, they were infected, and
my shoulder."

"All healed completely," Skinner said, assuring his
friend.  "Agent Scully managed to confirm a method of
treatment that could be used to kill the infection before
too much tissue could be lost or damaged.  The fact that
you managed to get as close to the bright lights as you
did probably saved your legs, if not your life."

"Scully," Doggett said, clearing his throat.  "How is
Scully?  Is she-"

"She's fine," Skinner interrupted.  "She was marginally
infected, but she was cleared almost immediately."  He
pointed at Doggett's eyes.  "They had to keep you under
some very bright lights during the treatment, strong
enough to penetrate your skin deeply enough to kill all
of the infection.  They were afraid it might have some
effect on your sight."

"No, I'm OK, I think," Doggett replied, blinking from
the thought of losing his ability to see.  "How long was
I out?"

"Five days," Skinner answered.  "Now that you're awake,
the doctors said they want to take a final blood sample,
to be sure that everything's back to normal.  The burns
will be tender for a while, but the medics on the scene
were able to keep them to a minimum.  Virtually no 
scarring, they say."

"Good to know," Doggett said with a weak grin.  His
expression sobered.  "I imagine Kersh wants a word with
me."

"As soon as you're able," Skinner confirmed ruefully.
"He's already caught up with me and Scully.  He gave her
a bit of a hard time, but considering the circumstances,
I think he's saving the best for last."

Doggett shook his head.  "It shouldn't be this way, sir.
You know it, I know it.  I shouldn't have come to this."

"I know," Skinner agreed, his voice sympathetic.

"I just hope Kersh is willing to hear that."

***

Washington, DC

1 Day Later


"...five men confirmed dead, several others wounded,
including a number of local law enforcement officers,
the total destruction of a private warehousing real
estate."

Deputy Director Alvin Kersh glanced up from the report
held tightly in his hands, glaring at Doggett with
his typical lack of patience.

"Shall I go on?  In addition to the confirmed dead,
there are allegations by this Detective Thomas Egan
that as many as several dozen victims might have been
killed under the same circumstances over the past
few months.

"And according to your report, while you admit that
these deaths were nominally the result of actions
taken by the late Mr. Michael Londner, you go on to
say, and I quote, 'Mr. Londner was under the control
of a parasitic insect that guided his actions to the
ultimate purpose of perpetuating its species in the
New York Metro area.'

"Now, Agent Doggett, would you like to explain that
one to me in a little more detail, because unless I
am mistaken, this does not even begin to explain what
you were doing working on a case in Queens during a
requested personal leave, or why you felt the need
to burn down half a city block."

Doggett sat uncomfortably in a wooden chair, trying
to get the stiffness in his back to go away without
giving Kersh the impression that he was actually
starting to squirm.

"May I be honest, Director Kersh?"

Kersh raised an amused eyebrow.  "Oh, please do, Agent
Doggett."

"This has nothing to do with me investigating a case
while on personal leave, or Agent Scully conducting
unauthorized autopsies, or the cost in lives and real
estate that resulted from what we found up there."

Doggett leaned forward, staring Kersh down in the
process.  "I acted in accordance with the task that
I was assigned months ago when I was ordered to find
Agent Mulder.  Whether or not I took leave under false
pretenses, and you can do whatever you feel is necessary
in response to that action, I involved myself in that
case because I had reason to think that there was a
connection between the circumstances of that case and
what was left unresolved in Arizona."

"From what I can tell, Agent Doggett, the only connection
between the two cases has something to do with a similar
puddle of green liquid."  Kersh returned Doggett's intent
stare.  "What in the name of hell does a puddle of green
liquid have to do with Agent Mulder?"

Doggett struggled for some kind of response, but
ultimately, he sat back into his seat, unable to give
a reply that would satisfy Kersh.

"Sounds to me like we're back to the pie in the sky,
alien fairy tales, Agent Doggett.  And to be honest,
as much as I expected that from Agent Scully, and at
this point even Director Skinner, I would have hoped
that you might resist the urge to engage in this kind
of sloppy and frankly unprofessional nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Doggett retorted, finally losing his patience.
"All I deal in is nonsense, sir.  That's what you dropped
in my lap when you assigned me to the X-Files.  Frankly,
I am having a bit of trouble understanding exactly what
it is you are expecting from this investigation.

"Ever since Arizona, have we gotten any leads from even
one field office in the Bureau?  Have we been given the
same resources and the same level of attention that we
were afforded before things started to spiral out of
your frame of reference?

"Of course not.  Instead, we've been assigned everything
from missing children to some mechanic with X-ray vision.
What do any of those cases have to do with Agent Mulder?
At least I took the chance to go out there and find
out if there was a connection, no matter how bizarre
it might be.  It's a hell of a lot more than the Bureau
has given us to work with."

Kersh slapped the report file onto his desk.  "Are you
telling me that you feel that your assignment to the
X-Files is a waste of your time?  You seem to place a
high value on your talents, Agent Doggett.  Some might
consider that a sign of arrogance."

Doggett shook his head.  "Absolutely not.  But I am
questioning why I was assigned to the X-Files in the
first place.  I'm not Agent Mulder.  I have no personal
stake in those kinds of cases, or a need to validate
the paranormal on taxpayer's dime.  And if you really
want to know, I question why Agent Scully is still
assigned to the X-Files, when there are several times
in the past seven years when Agent Scully has been
reassigned due to irregularities in the department."

"Agent Mulder's disappearance created a vacuum in that
department.  Someone needs to fill that void until his
whereabouts can be determined, and if necessary when
that time comes, a replacement can be assigned.  As
the agent in charge of finding Agent Mulder, you were
the logical choice."

"That still doesn't explain why the X-Files is even
still open in his absence," Doggett said, his voice
weary.

"That's not your concern," Kersh replied harshly.
"Execute the cases assigned to you, and let those
of us in the proper position handle the whys and
the wherefores."

"That's exactly what I was doing," Doggett snapped
back.

"As far as I can tell, Agent Doggett, you were chasing
shadows, nothing more."

"Because that's the only thing I have to work with,"
Doggett said bitterly.  He stiffly stood.  "Give me
something to work with, and maybe I'll chase something
more substantial."

Kersh pushed himself out of his seat.  "I expect you
to take that kind of initiative, Agent Doggett.  I
suggest you stop waiting for the Bureau to provide you
with a break, and do your damned job."

Doggett stared back into Kersh's eyes, for a moment,
and then nodded.  "Understood."

"Thank you," Kersh said, his tone far from pleased.
"Then I expect that you will work within channels in
the future, and avoid this kind of sloppiness.  It's 
what I would have expected of Agent Mulder, not what
I was expecting from you."

Kersh's expression softened into a patently false
smile.  "I can understand how this has been a hard
week for you.  Get some rest.  I'll try to do what I
can to minimize the damage on this end.  Dismissed."

Doggett nodded his head slightly, and then walked out
of the room, confident that the damage was far from
minimized.

***

Washington, DC

4 hours later

Doggett sat staring at the files on his desk, unsure
as to where to resume his work.  The meeting with
Kersh had been a complete waste of time, more of a
game than a true resolution, and that kind of double
speak always left Doggett with a bad taste in his
mouth.

Truth be told, he was conflicted.  Kersh had all but
ordered him to take charge of finding leads on Mulder,
and yet he had a strong feeling that he would have to
be very careful about what kind of leads he might
choose to explore.  The last thing he needed was 
another black mark in his file with Kersh.

His choices were clear.  He needed to keep his head
above the water on the X-Files while also pushing for
some kind of progress on the Mulder case.  If nothing
had surfaced on that case since the time of Mulder's
initial disappearance, then the only alternative was
to keep clutching at straws like they had been doing
every Friday night for weeks, or take a look at what
Mulder had been doing just before his fateful trip to
Oregon.

Which brought him to the file sitting on his desk.
Mulder's last case had been a solo trip to a small
town in Pennsylvania, and there were a few oddities
that might provide some kind of lead.  It was a long
shot, but at this point, it was better than nothing.

"You're working late tonight."

Doggett glanced up, and saw Agent Scully standing
by the door, her eyes reflecting his own weariness.
"I could say the same to you."

"Well, there was some paperwork thanks to Kersh
and his objections to the autopsy.  And some
issues with the hospital and my records."  She
shook her head.  "I think they know me on a 
first name basis by now."

"OPR, or the hospital?" Doggett asked.

"Both," Scully said with a slight smile, walking
over to her desk.  She tapped one of the files
as she slumped into her seat.  "Detailed results
from the chemical tests."

"I think we're long past the time for that,
Agent Scully," Doggett said, shaking his head.
"I'm not looking to revisit this one, if I can
help it.  And since it had nothing to do with
Mulder, what good would it do?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to say that," Scully said.
There was something in her eyes, a barely concealed
excitement.  "I found something very interesting."

Doggett looked far less excited.  "And what would
that be?"

Scully opened the file, paging through the results.
"Remember that unknown organic compound that I
mentioned?  The one you thought was the liquid
extracted from the Amazon?  Turns out that it was
something else.

"The organic compound was a by-product of the
degeneration of a particular type of retrovirus.
It's very unique, but I've seen it before.  So
have you.  It was the same retrovirus that Skinner
was infected with in Arizona."

Doggett found himself unable to respond.  He walked
over to Scully's desk, scanning the pages of results
himself, and then shook his head.  "Are you trying
to tell me that those bugs were somehow related to
that alien bounty hunter business?"

Scully sighed, hearing that familiar tone of
disbelief in his voice.  "No.  I'm saying that the
insects might have been the result of an experiment
utilizing the tissue or DNA from something similar
to the bounty hunter.  There's plenty of evidence
of similar experiments involving human subjects
in the X-Files."

"And there are just as many reports of bizarre and
seemingly alien insects and diseases coming out of
the Amazon and other remote areas every week," Doggett
replied, much more harshly than he intended.

Scully took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"The experiments are on record.  It's just a matter
of taking the leap-"

"It wasn't too long ago that you were telling me
how you couldn't take those kinds of leaps anymore,
that you couldn't keep trying to be Mulder," Doggett
said, holding back his frustration as much as possible.
"This is not the way to find him, Agent Scully."

"I have to trust my instincts," Scully replied.  She
looked him in the eye.  "I'm asking you to trust my
conclusions.  Can you do that?"

"It's not a matter of trust, Agent Scully," Doggett
shot back.  "As a partner, I trust you.  I know you
think you're doing the right thing, taking the right
approach.  But this is not a matter of trust.  It's
a matter of faith.  A matter of belief."

"Belief in what?" Scully asked.

"In Mulder's methods," Doggett answered.  He gestured
towards the file cabinets.  "You try to be Mulder 
because you've learned to believe in his methods, in 
his cause.  But I can't operate that way.  I have to 
have something concrete to work with, something I can 
understand and follow without making these leaps you 
keep talking about.  Or as you put it, keeping an open 
mind."

Doggett shook his head.  "I can't put my faith in alien
bounty hunters and experiments using alien DNA.  If I
did, I would be lying to myself, and then I'd be guilty
of exactly what Kersh was accusing me of."

"And what was that?" Scully asked.

"Chasing shadows," he replied.  He sighed heavily,
unwilling to continue the argument.  "So how did your
personal business go while I was away?  Do you mind
if I ask what you were doing?"

Scully thought about the news she had received, and
the unexpected revelation of her sudden good fortune.
"Chasing shadows," she said finally, with a slight
smile.

Doggett wanted to press, like he always wanted to,
but once again he let it drop.  "Not sure how to
take that, but I'll take what I can get."

Scully smiled, a signal of her appreciation.  "Are
we still on for tonight?  I think the boys are waiting
impatiently to find out what I'm going to wear next."

"Just watch for the digital cameras," Doggett said with
a wink.  Then he glanced at the file on his desk, and
shook his head.  "No, I think that's something I'll skip
this time around.  Like I said, I need to work with
something a little more concrete for a while.  And
I could do with a weekend without Langley."

"They'll be so disappointed," Scully said wistfully.
She glanced at the file, unable to read the title.
"Anything I can help you with?"
"No, not at the moment," Doggett said evasively.  "I
just need to catch up after my time in the hospital."
He looked her over, and saw the careful way she was
holding herself, her slightly stiff posture.  "Why
don't you get away for a few days, take it easy?"

"I think I'll do that," Scully said, her smile far more
genuine.  "I could do with a weekend without Frohike."

They laughed together, and moments later, Scully left
for the night, leaving Doggett to his thoughts once
again.  He opened the file on his desk, scanning the
report once again, and then started filling out the
vehicle requisition forms he would need to start the
trip the next morning.

Maybe this would give them the answer they needed,
or maybe it would just give him some sense of purpose
and progress.  Either way, more than ever, he felt as
though he was on the right track.  He would find Mulder.

For Scully's sake, and for his own, he had to.


THE END