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The Y-Files

Case File #1Y5 - 2723: The Sky Is Falling

Part III

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

FINAL CASE REPORT: #Y 2723

ATTN: AD W S Skinner

CC: SAC Jadzia

 

FROM: SAC Sara Zeuty

 

RE: case #2723

 

Director Skinner.

 

You will find a full report attached, here is a brief summation as requested.

 

It is the opinion of this Agent that the government can assure the insurance companies requesting this inquiry that these have not been hoaxes created in order to collect for damages.

 

The ice ball which was reported to have crashed into the Straub's home was never recovered, and all reports involving said ice ball have mysteriously disappeared. The damage caused to the Straub's home has been officially listed as being the fault of a sinkhole. All insurance companies requesting our assistance have now officially declined any further assistance by the government.

 

The "witnesses" to the plane crash that supposedly occurred near the Straub's home were all killed in an automobile accident ten minutes after the charges against them and their alleged drug manufacturing and distribution were dropped. The cause of the accident is not known for sure, but police speculate that the driver lost control of the car. The local PD will continue investigation.

 

The Wal-Mart incident has been recorded as an accident involving spontaneous failure of structural integrity. What this means, exactly, will probably never be known, yes the phrase seems to fit well with the general Wal-Mart atmosphere. At your own request and at the request of local authorities, we will not be investigating this incident.

 

The pictures of the unknown object we believed to have crashed into the Wal-Mart, the container we believe contained biohazardous material, and the gun used by the false "Agent LeBarge" have all disappeared. The gun used to kill Leah Straub was found to be unregistered with no fingerprints.

 

Those injured in the Wal-Mart fiasco have all returned home in apparently good health. There have been several missing persons reports made by people believing to have lost family members in the disaster, but no bodies have been identified or returned at this time. There has also been no accurate official count of injuries or deaths. These are expected to be released within the next 24 hours.

 

The key found in Leah Straub's stomach is believed to be to a storage locker, but we have not yet been able to find out where the locker is located. This could take some time. SAC Jaythree and myself both have a copy, and we are both attempting to find the location of the locker in hopes that it will bring new and important evidence to light.

 

Upon speaking with the manager of the Comity, we believe he had no idea about the cameras hidden within the ceilings of each room. He has, however, made arrangements to have them removed. The local PD are currently investigating this case.

 

SAC Sara K. Zeuty

Y-Files division

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

I was met at the airport by two of Morley's men. I didn't know their names, but I had seen both of them before. The first man's face was impassive. The other wore an expression alternating between amusement and contempt--my reputation had obviously preceded me. He sat with me in the back seat during the long, silent drive across the city. I stared out the window at the passing scenery and contemplated the length of my life span. It would be short indeed if this meeting didn't go well.

 

The car finally stopped and the men escorted me to Morley's office. Morley dismissed them with a glance.

 

Fiona Black was perched on the arm of a maroon leather sofa, one long, elegant leg crossed over the other. She seemed surprised to see me there. She stubbed out her cigarette in irritation, as if she had lost a bet.

 

Neither offered me a chair.

 

"Ms. Black has given me a full report of your conduct in Boulder," Morley said. "I hope, for your sake, your version is less damning."

 

I told him everything. Ms. Black rolled her eyes at the mention of the CIA (I admit, it was a bit much to swallow). Morley just listened without interrupting. He sat there quietly for several minutes after I finished.

 

"So your excuse is 'bad information'?" he finally asked.

 

"Its not an excuse, Sir--just a reason."

 

Ms. Black started to say something, but Morley raised his hand and she stopped. He stood and walked to the window, his back turned to me.

 

"I should kill you," he said simply, looking out the window.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

I thought I saw a hint of a smile in his reflection.

 

"Trusting Reef was a serious lapse in judgement," he added.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

He turned around, his decision made. He gave me a long, considering look before opening his desk drawer. He pulled out a gun.

 

My gun.

 

He pointed it at me. "I don't think I have to tell you what will happen if you ever disappoint me again."

 

"No, Sir, you don't."

 

He handed me the Glock. The feel of the cool plastic in my hand again was familiar and comforting. I checked the clip--it was fully loaded. I struggled not to smile. Oh, if Reef only knew, I thought. I tucked the gun into the waistband of my skirt.

 

"My men will take you back to the airport," he said, lighting a Morley.

 

Ms. Black looked disappointed.

 

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

 

Back at the airport, waiting for my flight to Rapid City, I wandered into a gift shop to kill a little time. I saw something on a shelf that made me smile. I pointed to the bottle and asked the clerk to gift wrap it.

 

"Send it FedEx to this address," I told her, writing it on a scrap of paper.

 

The clerk smiled. "Tequila does make a nice gift."

 

"Yes it does," I said smiling back, unrepentant to the end.

 

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

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

Ms. Black looked at me. "Do you trust her?" I could tell what Ms. Black wanted to do. It was something that I, at one moment, wanted to do too.

 

"Not in the slightest," I said, lighting up a cig. "but we may be able to use her in the future. Keep an eye on her."

 

Ms. Black nodded, and she knew, without me even saying it, what I was thinking. "You want to use her to get reef." Ms. Black said, and it wasn't a question.

 

"Yes I do."

 

Morley Cigs

 

From:  reef666

 

I was already halfway to my destination, flying over the Pacific, when I received the communication from the man. I replied stating that I would not be attending the meeting in person as time was of the essence, but that I would report as soon as I knew anything.

 

I sat back and sipped on my gin and tonic. Christ, what DID I know? This informant fellow, whatever his name is, seems to have come from nowhere. This guy was good - it's almost as if he'd created an entirely new identity in order to contact Agent Jadzia. Tracking him down would be difficult, but not impossible.

 

Agent Zeuty was on her way to Hawaii with the disk, this much I knew. But what is the importance of this disk, I asked myself suddenly feeling like the low man on the totem pole. I reminded myself to take a look through some past Y-Files cases as to gain a better understanding of this disk as I took another sip of my drink. Ah screw it, I thought. Who cares what's on the disk - that's not why I'm going to Hawaii.

 

I had hacked into the FBI mainframe and found Agent Zeuty's flight and time of arrival. If all went according to plan, I'd be there a few hours before her - just enough time to set up a nice warm welcome wagon....

 

I finished my drink and pulled out my gun. The convenience of having a private airplane: no passengers to look at you funny while you clean your firearm. In two hours I'd be in Hawaii. And after that...

I let out in a fit of maniacal laughter...

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

Frohike and I arrived at the airport with no troubles. Other than the fact that the passenger behind us had brought his pet duck on board. It quacked loud and frequently.

 

When we got off the plane, the airport was deserted. Except for a large pack of clowns doing acrobatics. I looked at my watch, wondering why there was no one else in the airport. I began to get very nervous.

 

"Lets avoid those clowns, okay?" Frohike said. I nodded.

 

Our rental car was waiting, and I drove to SAC Jadzia's motel room. As I she opened the door to her room, she was grumbling about the duck infestation. I looked over at Frohike, who was wearing a clown nose. He grinned sheepishly, and said he'd stolen it from one of the clowns. I wondered how I hadn't seen that.

 

Mr. Yamamoto was in the room, with his laptop. We loaded up the disk. Finally, we had all the evidence we needed. I couldn't believe the depth of the conspiracy we had just uncovered. Believe it or not, it did in fact involve Elvis.

 

SAC Jadzia called up the President. She emailed him everything on the disk, and Morley and his gang were arrested shortly thereafter. Finally, our work here was done. I gave Frohike a big, wet kiss.

 

"Agent Zeuty, wake up. We're landing." I blearily opened my eyes, to find myself still on the plane. Frohike was elbowing me.

 

"Ugh. Dammit." I said, as I looked out the window, watching the ground rise up.

 

 

From: reef666

 

I sat silently watching the plane land. I had arrived barely two hours previously, but that was plenty of time to get things in order. All I had to do now was sit back and watch.

 

Agent Zeuty was one of the first people to get off the plane. Hmm, since when did the government spring for their agents to fly first class. To my surprise, she was followed by one of those damned Lone Gunmen - "Peaknuckle" or something. Shit, she must've gotten his ticket separately.

 

I watched quiet as a hawk as a security guard walked up to the agent. He was one of mine, a part of my crew. His job was to tell agent Zeuty that her fellow agent, Jadzia, was waiting in the airport security wing in order to prevent the all important package from being "liberated". And he did his job well. 

 

Before leaving with my man, agent Zeuty turned and said something to the Lone Gunman who then turned and walked the other way. Dammit, I thought. I should have put a mic on my man so I could have heard what she had said. I didn't necessarily need "Peaknuckle", but I didn't like the thought of him roaming around on his own.

 

But first things first.

 

I walked down a set of spiral stairs into a darkened corridor. Quickly, I stepped into a small shadowed alcove, hiding myself from sight. Soon enough, agent Zeuty and my man came walking by. I stepped from the shadows, and stood right behind the agent. I pulled out my gun, slowly raised it to the back if her head, cocked it and...

 

...quickly the agent turned and kicked me square in the head. "Jesus," I thought. "I must not have been as sneaky as I thought." My gun fell to the floor.

 

"Who the hell are you" shouted the agent, franticly going for her own gun. In the excitement it appeared that she had forgotten about my assistant who had plenty of time to reach in his coat and get his own pistol.

Unfortunately, my assistant was a horrible, horrible fighter. As he raised his gun to shoot the agent, she quickly turned around and kicked his leg in such a way that his knee now bent the other way. However, my assistant still managed to get one shot off. But, again, my assistant is a pain in my ass, as he managed to shoot me square in the chest.

 

Agent Zeuty turned and looked at me in horror as a bubbling green liquid started oozing from my chest...

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I finally pulled my gun and pointed it first at the man whose knee I just kicked out, then at the man oozing green blood, and back again.

 

"What the..." I said. It was about two seconds before I had cuffed the shooter and took his gun. I then pondered what to do about the man oozing green stuff. On the one hand, he had tried to kill me. On the other hand, I was a doctor. Then there was a third hand, flailing about desperately in the back of my mind, telling me that there probably wasn't anything a doctor could do for someone who had green blood.

 

Suddenly I felt very ill. My eyes and skin were burning. I was nauseated and getting very dizzy.

 

"Son of a..." I mumbled as I fell to the floor. It was the green stuff, it was somehow toxic. I tried to get up, but could only crawl. This was definitely something I hadn't planned on with all my paranoia. I knew that SAC Jadzia was not at the airport, so I was prepared for an attack. But not for toxic green ooze.

 

I tried to call for help, but the place was obviously empty. I was hoping to see clowns, and to wake up, but there were no clowns. I pushed myself to keep going. There was a glass door. I couldn't get up to open it. Luckily breaking things was a specialty of mine, and I threw myself against it. Of course it didn't break. The one time... I growled. It felt as though hours had passed but it had been only a few moments. Finally, I managed to claw the door open, and everything went black.

 

 

From: reef666

 

To:  M.C.

From:  r666

 

A.Z. has arrived and is in possession. Secondary merchandise is not available. Believed to have been rerouted in transit.

Information removal from A.Z. regarding bad plumbing to commence when secure location is reached.

Next report w/in 24 hrs.

 

From: reef666

 

Agent Zeuty awoke in a daze. She glanced around through blurry eyes at her surroundings. "What the hell?" she thought. "Why am I on a plane?"

 

"Care for a drink?" I asked, walking up slowly behind her. "It's going to be a long flight and you're probably a bit dehydrated after the incident at the airport." I extended my arm, handing her a vodka martini.

She glared at me with eyes o' fire and slapped the glass from my hand, knocking it to the floor. "That was Grey Goose vodka you just spilled on my carpet." I said. "It's not cheap stuff."

 

"I don't really care," she replied. "Who the hell are you, or should I say What the hell are you, and why am I here on this plane? If it's the disk you're after..."

 

"I couldn't care less about the disk," I replied. "that's not why you're here."

 

"Then why?' she asked as he reached for her holster. 'Dammit', she thought 'He's got my gun. Not that it's a smart idea to shoot him anyway...'

 

"You ask too many questions" I sighed. "why don't you just relax, have a few drinks, and enjoy yourself?" I turned and walked back to the bar and made myself a drink. "So, what can I get for you?" I asked.

 

"Just a water", she replied.

 

"One water, coming up." I said as I grabbed another glass. Walking back to my seat, I grabbed the remote control and switched on the plane's television system. The screen scrolled down from the ceiling as red, green and blue lights flickered above. Suddenly the picture on the screen became clear. A cartoon show about seven children and their little digital monster pets. "Ooh, Digimon!", I exclaimed turning up the volume. "I love this show!"

 

Agent Zeuty took her water and looked at me as if I were insane. "You're the oddest villain I've ever met." she said. "You're like some sort of cross between a cheesy James Bond super-villain and" she looked at the television screen "an antagonist from bad anime."

 

I turned to her and laughed. Oh how I laughed.

 

As I finished my drink the plane flew on... 

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I sat there, staring at the laughing man for a moment. Then I rubbed my eyes, wondering if this was all just another weird dream.

 

I hoped Frohike was okay. I told him that I wanted him to stay as far from me as possible and to sit in a crowd until I returned or until Jadzia showed up. If anything happened to him because of me and this case, I would never forgive myself.

 

I looked around the plane I was in. I rubbed my eyes again, still thinking it had to be a dream, or something. In desperation, I looked around for a parachute. I would rather take my chances jumping than stick around with this cackling maniac, especially since I had no idea what he wanted.

 

"Look," I said, "I'm a federal agent. Kidnapping a federal agent is a felony. As a matter of fact, so is kidnapping anyone, and this just makes it worse that..." I trailed off. As if he was concerned about felonies.

 

"What do you want?" I asked again. "Why didn't you just kill me? If you think I'm going to tell you anything, you're wrong. First of all, I don't know anything to tell. Except where the disk is, and you can go ahead and start cutting off my fingers and toes before I give you that little bit of information."

 

He continued to look at me, with a slight smile on his face. It was extremely unnerving.

 

I considered my options. I couldn't wound him, as that did more damage to me than him. I couldn't kill him as I had no weapon. Maybe I could just bruise him very, very badly.

 

I sighed. So much for a two hour trip to Hawaii. Suddenly the Gilligan's Island theme song started running through my head, and I giggled. I don't know why. I never giggle. But I couldn't help myself.

 

I didn't know who was piloting the plane, but I supposed that if I killed him/her, I could let the plane crash and kill us both. At least I'd have one syndicate member out of the way. There was nothing below but ocean...

 

I shook my head. That probably wouldn't accomplish much, and besides, I'd be dead. I started wondering how the case I was supposed to be working on was going. The one I was the SAC for. Hopefully Samantha was handling things alright.

 

<This bites.> I thought to myself. I didn't even know what was going on. I didn't know what was on the disk, I wasn't even familiar with the case Jadzia needed it for.

 

<Well, Agent Zeuty, what are you going to do now? Seems you're pretty well stuck.>

 

I stood up. I felt very woozy. I sat back down, took a deep breath, and stood up again. I realized this was the first time I'd ever been kidnapped. I always thought they were supposed to tie you up and keep a gun aimed at your head. In a way, this was even more frightening.

 

I walked over to the cockpit.

 

"Holy Mary, there's no one flying this plane!" I screamed.

 

The Anime-Bond man smiled. "We have computers now, Agent Zeuty.  We don't need people."

 

"Oh. Of course." I said, calming down. There were still manual controls. I sat in the "pilot's" seat.

 

"Okay then. If you don't tell me why I'm here this instant, I'm going to crash this plane into the ocean.  And if I don't like your reason, I'm going to crash this plane into the ocean.  And don't think I won't do it."

 

I stared at the controls in front of me. Though I had no idea how to fly a plane, and had never been in a cockpit before, I was pretty sure if I pushed enough buttons and pulled enough levers I could certainly crash one. Of course I had also just seen this man shot in the chest, and he seemed fine now. Maybe if I made sure it was a very fiery crash... I shook my head. Who was I kidding. I wasn't going to crash a plane. I just didn't know what else to do...

 

 

From: reef666 (so evil he glows)

 

I walked up to the control panel and switched off the automatic pilot and gave Agent Zeuty a cross-eyed glare.  "Go ahead and crash us into the ocean if you like.  I am not afraid to die."

 

Agent Zeuty's eyes widened. She looked quite surprised that I had called her bluff. Quickly her surprise turned to alarm as she realized that she was in full control of the plane and that it was beginning to descend.

"What the hell are you doing you psycho fuck?!" she screamed at me.

 

"Who told you that the disk was important?" I asked calmly as the plane plummeted. "Who is your informant? Tell me, and I'll enter the code to turn the automatic pilot back on and save both of our lives."

 

"What are you talking about?!" she replied. "What informant?!"

 

I lit a cigarette as the sound of bottles crashing from the bar were barely audible over the roar of the engines. "That ocean is getting awfully close Agent Zeuty."

 

"FUCK YOU!!" she shouted whilst giving me the finger. "I'll fly this damn plane myself!" She grabbed the steering column and began to pull. The plane, though at this point nearly vertical, began to make a slight arch back towards horizontal. Sweat began to form on the Agent's brow as she put all of her strength into righting the plane. But the ocean still loomed ever closer.

 

"Give it up Agent" I bellowed. "Your only hope is to tell me who your informant is. Don't die for this Agent Zeuty!"

 

Through clenched teeth the agent retorted, "Screw you, you half-breed, lying, psychotic, piece of horse shit! Even if I knew...even if there was an informer, I wouldn't tell a worm infested dirt-ball like you!"

 

I could tell that she meant it. So I reached in my pocket and pulled out a small electronic device, aimed it at the control panel, and switched the auto pilot back on. The plane righted itself with such a jolt that Agent Zeuty was thrown back against the real wall of the cockpit.

 

"Alright, I believe you," I said to the federal agent lying at my feet. Though I knew she was in pain, her eyes reflected none of it. All they showed was hate towards me.

 

"Why don't you get up?" I said. "C'mon, I'll make you a drink. I'm sure a few bottles must've survived through that"....

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

The familiar phrase, "When you can't beat 'em, join 'em." went through my head.  Not that I was considering joining the syndicate. But I could certainly use a stiff drink and a cigarette. I think I was starting to develop a fear of flying.

 

Bond-Anime man held out his hand to help me up. I refused it and got up by myself. I looked at my watch. So much for catching the return flight home. I still couldn't believe that I was even in this situation. I was starting to get very, very worried for SAC Jadzia. She was the one this informant spoke to, though I didn’t know if she knew his identity. I wished that I could send her psychic messages. I was even starting to wonder if the disk was actually important, or just a way to flush out the informant. Though my gut told me that from the level of encryption on it, it had to contain something.

 

I then began wondering what was to become of me now that my kidnapper knew I didn't have what he wanted. Although I had had guns pointed at me many times, this was the first time I began to seriously fear for my life.

 

I looked at my captor, and punched him in the face. He seemed unfazed. Then he smiled.

 

"So how about that drink?"

 

My fear left for a moment. Now I was just very annoyed. I balled my fist up again, although it felt like I had broken every bone in my hand, ready to haul at him again.

 

"One more time, Agent Zeuty, and I'll hit back. Let's play nice."

 

I considered this, and my hand relaxed. My temper was getting me nowhere.

 

He left for a moment. I realized that my cell phone was still in my pocket, and took it out.

 

No service. Of course not.

 

I considered my options again. There was nothing I could do until the plane landed. I would have to bide my time and wait. Unless he was planning on killing me before we landing. In which case I may as well get rip-roaring drunk.

 

Though considering I had a very high tolerance to alcohol in addition to the fact that the entire situation was extremely sobering for me, I didn't think there were enough bottles on board.

 

He returned with two drinks, one for him and one for me. I grudgingly took mine. I was so nervous after the plummeting of the plane that I felt as though my whole body was vibrating.

 

"Where are we going, and what do you think you are going to do to me?" I asked, taking a sip. He took a drink from his own glass as he looked at me. He seemed unusually calm. He also looked a lot better than when I had first laid eyes on him. I suspected he'd had a hangover, and these few drinks were making him feel better.

 

Hmmm. A few more would probably make him feel a lot better.

 

 

From: reef666 (so evil he glows)

 

Agent Zeuty down her drink in one big gulp, turned her glass over, and pounded it to the table. She looked at me wit those eyes of hate as if issuing a challenge. I accepted by gulping down my drink just as fast and -holy crap, I forgot that I put ice in my drink - started choking. I reached around and started pounding myself on my back, trying to dislodge the ice cube from my throat. Agent Zeuty began laughing uncontrollably at me as I did a strange little dance: the dance of the choking evil man.

 

Finally I managed to constrict my throat muscles in such a way as to crush the ice cube into many tiny pieces.  I spit the ice cube fragments back into my empty glass and eyed the half hysterical agent Zeuty.

 

"Okay" I said nonchalantly. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right." The agent stopped snickering and looked at me quizzically. What had I in store for her.

 

I grabbed two shot glasses and put them on the table. I opened the liquor cabinet and to my dismay, both the bottles of Canadian Club and Royal Crown were shattered. So I went to the mini freezer and to my delight found two unbroken, and quite chilled, bottles of Mescal.

 

I grabbed one of the bottles, walked back over to Agent Zeuty and declared, "Alright little miss FBI. Let's get it on."...

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I eyed the bottles as he poured two shots. I wondered if this could technically be considered drinking while on the job. I'd have to leave this bit out of my final report.

 

I looked at the man in front of me. He was tall, well built, obviously drank frequently and enjoyed it. I was 5'2", and relatively small.

 

But I was Irish.

 

I smiled at that thought and downed the first shot, staring levelly at the man across from me as he downed his and poured some more.

 

"Where is this plane going?" I asked.

 

"Where's the disk?" he asked.

 

Several more shots followed, several more questions went unanswered.

 

I started feeling a little warm and tingly.

 

Several more shots later I began singing the theme from Gilligan's island that had been going through my head since I had come to on the plane. I dissolved into laughter.

 

"You guys," I laughed, "are so EVIL!"

 

"I know!" he said. "Isn't it great?" by this time he was grinning like and idiot and jabbering about baby seals.

 

"You were gonna..." I laughed some more, and tried to catch my breath, "you were going to let me crash the plane!"

 

"And you thought you could actually fly it!"

 

At that I fell to the floor, laughing and pounding my fists. "This... is so... ridiculous!"

 

After a few more shots, I was sure that the plane was spiraling out of control, but I didn't care.

 

The bottles were almost empty.

 

"Time for the worm." he said.

 

"The worm?" I asked, completely unfamiliar with any sort of tequila rituals that didn't involve Cuervo, salt and limes. "What do you do with the worm?"

 

"You eat it." he grinned.

 

"No.."

 

"Yes."

 

I wasn't sure if this was true or not. But I slowly and deliberately swallowed the slimy thing anyway.

 

Bond-anime villain man turned a nice shade of green. I had a feeling that perhaps it wasn't so much eating a worm that bothered him, as it was watching someone else eat one. That along with all the alcohol he had just ingested...

 

Of course I had been turning more and more pink as I drank. And since he had green blood, well, who knew.

 

"I can't believe you... you... " and with that he hit the floor.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

I then crawled over to the cockpit, and tried to make sense of the instrument readings.  I wasn't entirely sure, but it looked as though we had been circling Hawaii the entire time. Now to land...

 

I knew that if I radioed for help it would be intercepted. An owner's manual would be pretty helpful right about now. I wondered if a plane could even land itself on autopilot. This one probably could.

 

I noticed a small computer screen with our flight path programmed in. Apparently we were scheduled to fly in circles until someone programmed otherwise, or until we ran out of fuel. Maybe if I could tell the computer what to do...

 

<Ladn> I typed.

 

<Error-Invalid command>

 

<Land>

 

<Error-no coordinates specified>

 

I blinked. I looked up the coordinates of where we took off. They seemed to be five miles away from the airport.

 

"Well there must've been a runway if we took off, right?" I thought to myself, entering those coordinates.

 

The plane lurched as it changed directions. So did my stomach.

 

"Oh. My. God." I said out loud. I raced to find a bathroom, where I hugged the toilet for the rest of the ride.

 

With a seemingly infinite amount of bumping and lurching, the plane finally landed. I started wondering where the syndicate got their funding. Probably from what should have been going to public education.

 

Once I felt as though I would be able to move without dying, I exited the plane. I was on a small runway which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. I checked my cell phone, and to my amazement it was not out of range. I dialed up SAC Jadzia after getting two wrong numbers. Finally I heard her answer her phone.

 

"Jadz.." I managed to sputter, before finally giving way to unconsciousness and passing out.

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"We haven't been able to get a hold of him, sir. Our tracking device in the plane shows it landed at a small airport, but we have not yet been contacted." The underling looked nervous.

 

"Where in the hell is he!" I knew he had a "talent" for drinking, and it had landed him into trouble before. "Find him. Send a detachment of your finest men to that airport. I want that place secured immediately. When you find Agent Zeuty, take her into custody. When you find Reef," I lit up a morley, "bring him to me."

 

The underling left. I needed that disk, and I'd be damned if I lost it now. I should never have let her live.

 

I looked at out from the harbor to the memorial. Still no sign of SAC Jadzia. For her sake she better show.

 

 

From: The A&B Man (reef666)

 

I awoke in a hazy trance that felt like thick black smoke in my brain. What the hell had I been doing? Why was I on the floor? Just what the hell was all this sticky stuff on my face?

 

Slowly it started coming back to me. Mezcal. Damn Mezcal. I was still on my plane, but it no longer felt like we were moving. I looked up and realized that there was no longer a "we', it was just me. "Oh crap", I muttered. The radio light in the cockpit was flashing, but I had no intention whatsoever of answering the call. Not in this state, and not without my hostage.

 

How long had I been unconscious? I could see daylight shining in through the open side door of the plane. Just where in the hell was I?

 

I stood up and stumbled over to the door. Daylight shone in my bloodshot eyes, burning them like ants under a magnifying glass. Too late I realized that just by getting up and walking, I had started a chain reaction inside of myself. I leaned my head outside of the plane and vomited.

 

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and looked around. I was back at my own private airfield. (Thank goodness for small miracles. In our condition we were lucky not to have landed in a Wal-Mart parking lot.) I fell out of the plane - barely missing the disgusting rank puddle that I had created not seconds before - and began a slow crawl/stumble to the hanger.

 

From the corner of my eye I saw a lump, a mound of person, lying in the middle of the field. A made a bee-line over to this mound, dry-heaving the entire way over, and to my surprise and delight, found it to be a very passed out agent Zeuty. Clutched in her hand was her cell phone. And the line was open.

 

"Christ!" I exclaimed. "They could be tracing her signal as we speak. The federal agents could be on their way here." I pulled out my gun and nudged the drunken agent with my foot (all-the-while thinking that "I can't believe she didn't take my gun while I was passed out.) She looked up at me, gave a half smile through squinted eyes, and threw up on my leg.

 

"No time for fun, Agent." I said. "We've got to get out of here." I bent over to pick her dead-weight up and heard a distant rumbling. A rumble like a dozen military vehicles bearing down on my private airfield. 'It's not the feds", I thought. 'They wouldn't pull out this much artillery for just one agent..' I began lifting the agent. "C'mon Agent." I cried.

 

She looked up at me and began to giggle. "You're funny." she said.

 

I heard a loud crashing sound, turned and saw a bevy of black military style jeeps bursting their way through my chain link security fences.

 

No time to refuel, I thought. We've got to go. Right now.

 

I began to run for the plane, dragging Agent Zeuty behind me...

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"Sir?" the underling now seemed confused. "We just received a report from the group. I don't understand it, but he is trying to flee."

 

"What?" Now I was confused.

 

"He seems to be fleeing, but I don't understand. He *has* to see our forces coming."

 

"Perhaps he does." Time for a smoke. I needed to think. Damn him. What was he doing? It was time to act fast. "Contact our the group. I don't want that plane to take off. Stay here and see if SAC Jadzia shows up. Contact me if she does."

 

"Where are you going, sir?"

 

"I'm going to that airfield, and I going to find out what the hell is going on!" This day was getting worse and worse each minute.

 

 

From: The A&B Man (reef666)

 

Running. Stumbling. Drunkenly limping towards my plane. Agent Zeuty had sobered up enough while I was dragging her to see what was going on and, just as we had reached the door to the plane, started to put up a fight.

 

"I'm not getting back on that damned plane!" she exclaimed. She released herself from my grasp easily and stood before me, swaying uneasily. She hiccuped and said, "Whether your army kills me, or you kill me, makes no difference. I'm just not getting back on that plane!"

 

"Please," I cried. "Stop shouting. My head is killing me...wait, MY army? I thought that you had called your federal friends." I looked out towards the perimeter where the black jeeps were rapidly approaching from. Indeed they wore the uniforms of black operatives - they WERE on my side. I began to wave my arms over my head to signal to the lead vehicle that I had no intention of running. Agent Zeuty took that as a cue to kick me square in the stomach. "Oof!", I exclaimed, and fell over in a heap of pain and internal bleeding.

 

I looked up through circling stars and saw the agent running towards the hanger, away from the plane and from the approaching small army. MY army.

 

I got up to my knees and put a hand over my eyes to block the sun. There was no point in my chasing after the escaping agent Zeuty, for I could see two jeeps pull away from the main pack and head towards the hanger. I sighed.

 

'Why did I have to drink so much?' I thought to myself? "And how could that little girl have out drank me?" I began to think up excuses to give to my superiors for my actions. Not excuses, explanations. Why did I kidnap this agent? How would that have helped track down the informant? Why didn't I go back after that "Peaknuckle" guy to get the disk? Did I EVER have a plan or was I just making all of this up as I went along?

 

I knew that they wouldn't kill me. That they Couldn't kill me-I was too important. But they could make me suffer. Oh yes, they could do that.

 

I looked towards the lead jeep and waved my hand in resignation. I was too drunk and in pain to put up a fight. I slumped back down on the ground to wait for the men to arrive and take me away.

From the distance I was from the lead jeep man, it looked to me as if he were talking on some sort of two way radio, receiving orders from elsewhere. Probably from Morley... The lead man signaled to a secondary jeep where a soldier appeared to grab something from under a tarp and place it on his shoulder.

 

Quizzically I sat back upright and stared at the jeeps which had now come to a complete stop about four hundred yards from where I sat under my plane. 'What the hell are they doing?' I thought. Too late I realized exactly what was going on.

 

They had seen me fleeing (drunkenly) with the FBI agent.

 

They had contacted The Man, who undoubtedly told them to ground my plane.

 

They were about to blow my ass up.

 

I heard a small explosion in the distance and saw an increasingly deafening blur trailed by a pillar of gray smoke heading straight towards me.

 

I barely had time to curse myself for choosing to sit beneath the auxiliary fuel tank as my plane exploded in a huge ball of diesel flame.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

As I ran (stumbled) toward the hanger, I realized I was still holding my cell phone. I dialed SAC Jadzia, but it was busy. I then dialed SAC Samantha, and got her voice mail. I left her some instructions for the case she was working on, because for some reason I suddenly felt very bad that I had ditched out on the case. I was about to tell her where I was when I heard something that sounded like an explosion. I looked over my shoulder, tripping as I ran, just in time to see the plane blow up. Dropping my cell phone, I used every last bit of strength to run like hell. As the shock wave hit me, I fell to the ground and skidded across gravel.

 

"Son of a..." I muttered as I rolled over. I looked over at the flaming mass of plane wreckage. I thought I saw someone running toward it, or away from it, but I couldn't tell.

 

I dragged myself back up to my feet, even though I was pretty sure that by now every single bone in my body was broken. At the rate I was going, no one would even be able to identify my body.

 

There were black jeeps closing in around me.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I managed to make it to the hangar. I circled it, looking for an entrance. Everything was closed up. Finally, I found a door that was person-sized, unlocked, and within my capabilities to open. I ran toward it, and suddenly it swung outward. I felt the cold, hard steel smack against my face. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, and for an instant I found a bit of humor in the situation as my feet left the ground. I was airborne for only a moment, before landing hard on my back.

 

I lay there for a second, staring at the sky. This had to be one of the worst days of my life.

 

Everything was still spinning, and I felt like I would fall off the earth if I didn't hold onto it. Then a blurred face appeared. A cigarette butt landed near my head, and a large foot extinguished it.

 

Morley.

 

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." he said. "Look at the mess you've caused."

 

I tried to roll over, and was rewarded with a foot on my throat. I clawed at it. "I thought you...just...shot people." I gasped. Morely smiled, as I began to black out. My last thought before unconsciousness was trying to figure out whether this was the third time I had been unconscious today, or the fourth.

 

 

From: Jadzia

 

3:05PM

 

The search teams had been deployed and were methodically searching the area, but there was still no sign of SAC Zeuty. Without warning a huge explosion sounded and a plume of smoke and fire rose into the sky.

 

"That's on the other side of our search grid," SAC Emiko exclaimed.

 

I was already running back to the car, Agent Black by my side. Agent Black threw the car into gear as I strapped on my safety belt and we roared down the dirt access road, a dozen FBI cars right behind us.

 

In less than two minutes we arrived at what appeared to be a small airfield with a hanger, a couple of smaller structures, the burning remains of a small private jet, and lots of black jeeps. And where there were black jeeps, there were Men In Black.

 

"Pull off the road," I instructed Agent Black. "Go around so we're behind the hangar". With the small dust storm that our convoy was raising, the MIBs must have seen us, but this way we at least had the buildings and the burning plane between us and them.

 

I radioed SAC Emiko to warn her about the danger, and to advise her that these men would not hesitate to injure or kill federal agents. She didn't like the sound of that at all, and honestly, neither did I. Heck, at this moment, I was just praying that Sara wasn't extra crispy and that Agent Baker wasn't in the same state.

 

The convoy halted behind the hangar and we raced out of the car. Several teams broke off to investigate the smaller structures, but my gut instinct told me to check out the hangar. Guns drawn, we made our way around to the side of the building, only to see that a door there was already open.

 

I had a team of well-trained agents backing me up and we took up positions without a word. I gave the silent countdown with my fingers.

 

Three, two, one . . .

 

We came through the doorway covering the high and the low. The MIBs inside targeted us, but a smoky figure raised his hand to stop them. When I saw his foot on my friend's throat, however, I wasn't inclined to be half as generous.

 

Keeping my gun trained on the middle of his forehead, I stepped forward and stated icily, "Hello. I'm afraid I'm a bit early for our appointment".

 

 

From: Jadzia

 

"Why, SAC Jadzia, how nice of you to join us," Morley greeted me as he reached for a cigarette. He glanced briefly at the agents behind me.

 

"Don't move," I instructed him. Morley raised an eyebrow at my tone, but his hand stopped moving toward his pocket. His foot, though, pressed down a little harder on Sara's throat. She was unconscious, but I could hear slight wheezing sounds coming from her windpipe.

 

"You BASTARD," I cursed, my voice low and angry. Keeping my gun trained on his forehead, I took another step forward. I was trying hard to remain calm and clear-headed, but the desire to blow this guy away was hard to ignore. My mind whirled, examining the situation, searching for an advantage.

 

There were six MIBs in the warehouse with Morley Cigs. I had at least 5 agents in the warehouse behind me -- Black, Emiko, Operandi, Everett & Sabalore, possibly more if others had made it inside the warehouse before the MIBs had targeted us. I couldn't count on that, though. And I also had one bruised, bloodied, unconscious agent on the ground.

 

"You said you wanted to meet with me. Fine. I'm here. Now let her go".

 

"You speak as if you have some sort of power or authority in this situation, Agent Jadzia," Morley said coolly in his smoke-cured voice. "I assure you that is not the case. I hold the power of life or death". He pressed down on Sara's throat a little harder and the wheezing became more pronounced.

 

"LET. HER. GO. If I put a bullet in your head, your power won't do you any good," I grated. "And if you harm her, I'll send that disk to the seventh level that spawned you".

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"What a charming thought, Agent Jadzia. There is no need for useless threats. If you kill me, you will soon follow." This was going to be fun.

 

"I'll take my chances. I'll say it once more. LET HER GO!" She looked serious this time. It was time to end this game.

 

"You amuse me, Agent. You really think you can win. People like you think that the truth will always set the world free." I let up a morley and laughed. "You just don't get it. Some truths are made to be kept."

 

"Great, just great. If I have to listen to your rhetoric..."

 

I squeezed a little harder on Agent Zeuty's neck. "You will listen, or I will kill her. I still have the power. Don't forget such simple truths." Agent Jadzia eased off ever so softly. She was deadly serious. I knew I couldn't toy with her like I have countless others. Yes! This was going to be a great challenge.

 

"I've made it my quest to destroy people like you. If you kill her, I'll increase that quest a thousand fold!" She had such fire in her. Had I met my match?

 

"Quest? It's useless to continue this so called quest. I could have destroyed the Y-Files anytime I wanted to, but it gives me such joy to be kept on my toes." I lit up another Morley. " I love to play chess. Do you? It's such a challenging game. Move and counter move. This 'quest' is like a chess game. The difference is that I always know your move, and I always know that I will win. Why, Agent Jadzia, would you play chess if you knew you would lose?"

 

 

From: Jadzia

 

"I'm not playing your little chess game, Morley. I'm more of a Chinese Checkers girl. Not quite as sophisticated as chess, but I've never, ever lost a game".

 

Through the haze of smoke, I could see my nemesis smirk. At this point, I wasn't sure which would be more satisfying -- shooting him or taking that cigarette and putting it out in the middle of his forehead. This man had put my life and my agents' lives in danger time and time again, and he was calling it a GAME!

 

"Your complacency will be your downfall," I continued. I was playing for time. By now, I knew that the agents outside would have reorganized and be moving to surround the building. "You think you know all the moves, Morley, but you don't. I can tell. This disk is obviously important, but we've had it for awhile now. Why didn't you move to retrieve it before? Who's pulling _your_ strings, Morley?"

 

I wanted to push his buttons. When people get mad, they're dangerous, but in their anger they also make mistakes. But he wasn't about to bite. This guy was one very cool customer.

 

Morley calmly dropped the glowing cigarette butt to the ground. It landed beside Sara's head.

 

"You're asking the wrong questions, Agent. You should be asking who is pulling _your_ strings".

 

He nodded slightly, and I braced myself for a barrage of gunfire from the MIBs. Instead, I felt the cold barrel of a gun at my temple and heard quiet gasps from Operandi, Sabalore and Everett. Fighting the adrenaline coursing through my system, I forced myself to remain perfectly still and only allowed my eyes to move. If I was going to die, I was at least going to know who pulled the trigger.

 

My eyes came to rest of Agent Fiona Black.

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"Check mate, Agent Jadzia!" I said with a neat little smirk on my face.

 

"We all have to follow orders." 'Agent' Black said calmly. By now all of the Agents were stunned. The look on their faces was priceless.

 

"I told you that it was I that had the power. I had completely infiltrated your beloved FBI, and I fooled the entire Y-Files team! If only you could see your faces now." I looked for a cig but none werethere.

 

"Damn you! Damn you both!" Agent Jadzia addressed 'Agent' Black. "I'm very disappointed Agent Black -- if that's really your name. So, do you enjoy stabbing people in the back?"

 

Black cocked her gun. "Stabbing?" She gave a small chuckle. " I don't plan to use a knife." She began to pull the trigger...

 

"Stop!" I said. "Let them live. If you kill them, it would spoil my game."

 

"What?" 'Agent' Black seemed confused. "Your going to let them live. You

can't just..."

 

I interrupted her again. "Yes I can. Follow orders! Understood?"

 

"Yes sir!"

 

After she said that, I heard a faint hum in the background. A young guard rushed in. "The FBI is sending an entire assault force. ETA is about 5 minutes."

 

"All right. Gather all sensitive information. Where leaving this place in 3 minutes. Send a guard unit to get reef. Where taking him with us." I turned to the Agents. "Well I guess this is good-bye. Don't take the fact that I'm not killing you as a weakness. I will not hesitate to kill each one of you if you get in my way, but as of yet your Agents have done little to that effect. Your more like pests. Oh, one more thing. Tell Agent Zeuty that it was nice seeing her again." I grinned. "It's been fun."

 

"We'll see you again." Jadzia's eyes narrowed.

 

"Indeed." Now it was time to go.

 

 

From: Jadzia

 

Morley turned and walked away. "Agent Black" followed him without a backward look at the people she had betrayed. The MIBs covered their exit, walking backward through the hanger and keeping their guns trained on us. When they were halfway across the building, I quietly called out to SAC Emiko.

 

"Emiko? Did the rest of the team surround the hangar?" I asked, keeping my voice low. The MIBs still had their guns aimed at us, so I remained very still and hoped the agents followed my example. I didn't want any of my agents to make a sudden move that would set off the MIBs. I could head Emiko speaking into her hands-free radio.

 

A few moments later she told me, "They tried, Agent Jadzia, but they ran into some more of our MIB friends and are also being held at gun point".

 

"Any casualties?" I asked.

 

"Negative. No shots were fired". I nodded in acknowledgement. The retreating figures exited from a door on the far side of the hangar. With the danger gone, I hurried to SAC Sara's side. The wheezing had stopped when Morley had removed his foot -- a good sign that her windpipe hadn't been crushed. Gently tapping the side of her face, I tried to get her to wake up.

 

Stirring slightly, Sara mumbled, " 'Hike, rub sssscreen on my back".

 

"Time to wake up, Sara. Come on. You gotta wake up," I urged gently. Outside the hangar, I could hear the sound of jeeps starting up and leaving.

 

Glancing up toward the sound, I thought, <This isn't over, Morley. Not by a long shot>.

 

Sara came to suddenly, coughing up a storm. "What . . . the . . . hell?" she managed to gasp out between coughs.

 

SAC Emiko had already called for paramedics and firefighters. They arrived relatively quickly and whisked Sara off to the hospital. I informed then that she probably had a bruised larynx and that she'd need a saline IV and some vitamin B12 complex to avoid a nasty hangover.

 

Once Sara was safely en route to the hospital, I could stop and try to figure out what to do next.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I slipped in and out of consciousness on the ambulance ride to the hospital. The paramedics tried to keep me awake.

 

"Tell me where it hurts." One of them said.

 

I looked up. "You've got to be kidding me."

 

The medic smiled. "Just trying to keep you talking."

 

"Great subject." I sighed heavily. "Aren't you supposed to be asking me about my happy place or something?" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. Everything hurt. "I think...I think I'm broken." I said.

 

The medic smiled again. "You'll be okay. They'll get you some painkillers at the hospital."

 

The ride was a short one, and I was checked out by a very nice doctor. And very good looking, I might add. It was very sad to see him grimace every time he looked at me.

 

Eventually, after what seemed about 7 years, they pumped some painkillers into my blood and let me sleep.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

I opened my eyes to a hazy, blurry, dim world. I could make out someone reading my chart.

 

"How am I doing?" I whispered. Slowly, everything came into focus. It was Frohike. "Why are you reading my chart?"

 

He read for a moment longer before looking up. "Just wanted to see how you were." he said, seriously.

 

"Everything hurts. So does that say I'm gonna live?" I asked. Frohike nodded. "Damn." I said.

 

"Now I can understand the bruised ribs, bruised larynx, the gravel skid marks, the other various bruises and sprains, but *why* did they have to pump your stomach?" He asked.

 

"Oh god. I thought I had gotten rid of that all by myself..."

Frohike looked at me questioningly. "Never mind. You'd never believe it even if I told you."

 

"So much for a nice trip to Hawaii. Remind me never to go anywhere with you again."

 

I looked him over. "You look fine to me. And why are you still here, anyway? You had a ticket back to Boulder, you missed the flight." He didn't say anything. "You realize that now you have to stay here, because I can't afford to buy you another one."

 

He chuckled to himself. "Well it's not that hard, I can just hack into-" I held up a hand to stop him. Bad idea, that hurt.

 

"I don't want to know. I'm still a Federal Agent. At least I hope I am. But could you please get someone in here to get me some more painkillers?"

 

A short time later, a nurse came in and injected something into my IV. A short time after that, my head was fuzzy and I felt very happy. I tried to sit up.

 

"I uh, don't think you should do that." Frohike said, sounding mildly concerned.

 

"Frohike, I need you to do me a favor." I slurred, sounding very serious. "When I fall back asleep, please don't let anyone else kidnap me. I don't think I can take anymore."

 

Someone came into the room then, a woman. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Agent Zeuty. I'm sure they're through with you by now. But just in case, one of your agents is sitting outside."

 

Frohike stood up quickly, almost falling over. "Agent Scully! How nice to see you!"

 

"Frohike.." Scully smiled as if she had just been spotted by someone she'd been avoiding successfully for two days.

 

I sighed heavily, trying to grasp at consciousness. I gave up, knowing that as long as Scully was there, nothing I could say would get Frohike's attention back. My eyes closed, and I dreamed.

 

 

From: Jadzia

 

7:00PM

 

Frohike left when two local agents arrived to escort him to the airport. We had booked him on a flight back to Boulder that was leaving at 9:15PM and I had asked him to swing by the field office to handle some details first. In a nutshell, I had asked him to print out about ten more hard copies of the decrypted information, as well as saving it onto several different disks. I also asked him to make multiple copies of the decryption program that was on Kevin Yamamoto's laptop.

 

Sara had laughed for a moment when she heard my instructions to Frohike. She stopped laughing and started wincing almost immediately.

 

"Are we ALL going to end up as paranoid as the Gunmen?" she asked.

 

I had to laugh at that. My instructions did sound completely paranoid. The sad thing was that they were very necessary, and everyone in this room knew it. Frohike took another moment to leer at Agent Scully and then left with the agents who had been assigned to him.

 

After he left, I debriefed SAC Zeuty on everything that had happened from the moment she and Frohike had arrived at the airport. Agent Scully's eyebrows rose higher and higher as the story unfolded.

 

"I think your Y-Files agents do things a little differently than Mulder and I do, SAC Jadzia," was her only comment after the debrief was finished.

 

I finished looking over my notes, shrugged my shoulders and replied, "Protocol isn't always our strong point".

 

Turning back to Sara, I said, "Why don't you try to rest now, Sara? The doctor said they'd just keep you for overnight observation and that if you checked out okay in the morning, you could be on a plane to D.C. by tomorrow evening".

 

"D.C.?!?! I'm running the investigation in Boulder, Jadzia!" Sara was about as indignant as I'd ever seen her.

 

"After all this," I said, with a gesture that indicated her generally mangled, bruised state, "you want to head back to Boulder?" I was a little incredulous.

 

"This isn't the only case we've got with a link to the Syndicate right now, Jadzia. I want to be out in the field, and I want to find out what's going on over there"

 

I shook my head in amazement. "Alright. If the doctors say that you're relatively fit for duty tomorrow, we'll book you on a flight back to Boulder. Until then, get some rest, okay?"

 

Scully and I left to give Sara some peace and quiet. By this time, it was past 8PM. Stifling a yawn, I turned to Agent Scully.

 

"Let's make a quick stop by the vending machines for some coffee and then we'll check on those lab reports".

 

Scully nodded in agreement, and we headed over to the lab area.

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"Did we get everything out of that base that was important?" I asked Black.

 

"Yes sir, but we never found reef." She had an odd look on her face. Something wasn't right.

 

"You mean he's dead?"

 

"No. I mean we never found anything. If he lived, then I do no why he hasn't contacted us. If he was killed, we should have found at least some sort of residue left. It just doesn't make any sense."

 

"No. It doesn't." It didn't make any sense. It was time to think. I was at my house in Hawaii, and there wasn't a better view to look at in order to think. I lit up a Morley and went out on the balcony. My house was right on the beach, and it was dusk.

 

We should know one way or another. What happened? Why haven't we been contacted by him. It was damn odd. I took a puff of my cig and looked at the ocean. What a beautiful sight, I thought to myself. I longed for simpler times. Times when I could look at this beauty with the naive eyes I once had many years ago. If only I could go back to those times. If only she had never...

 

"What should we do sir?" Agent Black asked.

 

I snapped out of my train of thought. I promised myself I'd forget those thoughts. "Keep trying to locate him. Post someone at his house in case he shows up. I doubt he is alive, but you never know."

Thiis whole damned thing was odd.

 

From:  Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

***Please refer to the Damned Fence case for more details***

 

As I stumbled along a small airfield in Hawaii, toward a hanger, I realized I was still holding onto my cell phone.

 

I made two calls. One to SAC Jadzia, whose phone was busy. The second was to SAC Samantha Jaythree. Her voice mail picked up.

 

I spoke quickly and hoped my slurring made any sense. "Sam it's Sara. I need you to take over this case until I get back, I think I'm going to be a little later than I had anticipated... Please, get someone to question the supposed Acid tripping witnesses who saw the plane crash. I want them in our custody, I think they've most likely been framed. Also - oh, shit, gotta run."

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I didn't realize that my cell phone was turned off until I was hastily eating my breakfast and I pulled it out of my pocket to make a call to the local PD. Activating it, I checked my voice mail and heard Sara's rather odd message. Repeating it to Agent Fayme, I sighed. "I'll bet she's in trouble."

 

"I thought you said she was gone on 'personal business'," a familiar male voice spoke behind me. I turned to see Langley and Byers standing behind the booth where Fayme and I were sitting.

 

"Professional, but personal business," I clarified without explaining further. "Listen guys, Agent Fayme and I are going downtown so that she can describe a suspect and see if we can develop a composite. You're meeting us there to do the same for the woman whom you saw enter Agent Mortis' room."

 

When the two started to protest, I offered to arrest them as material witnesses in the investigation of a missing Federal agent. That seemed to encourage their cooperation, and they spoke with the police artist after Fayme completed her description of the man in the car.

 

"Good," I nodded. "Now we have two ideas of the persons for whom we might be looking."

 

"Are you sure we can't be of further assistance?" Byers looked longingly at our rental car. It probably had much better shock absorbers than that VW van.

 

"No, thank you, but I would appreciate a call if Frohike turns up. That should mean that Sara is nearby."

 

"Shut up, Langley," Byers didn't even turn his head as Langley's mouth opened for another round of 'I told you so.'

 

"Fayme, come on," I headed for the car. "We have to round up the rest of our witnesses before they disappear like everyone else in this case. We have to locate Mortis. Damn, we might even have to enlist the aid of the other two Lone Gunmen."

 

 

From: Agent Mortis

 

I woke up with a foul, chemical taste in my mouth. I was sitting up. Why was I sitting up? I tried to get up, but found that I had been secured to a chair by what seemed to be an entire roll of duct tape. The only light in the room emanated from a crack close to the floor under what I assumed was a door.

 

I heard a metallic rattling that sounded like keys so I closed my eyes and played possum. I figured that if whoever was coming through that door was friend, they’d try to wake me and if foe, they would be more likely to talk if they thought I was still out from whatever that nasty tasting stuff they’d Shanghaied me with was. As the door opened, a metric ton of stale cigarette smoke boiled into the room, followed by a man’s voice.

 

“She’s still out. Why did you use so damned much of that stuff? You knew that we need her conscious and talking.”

 

“I couldn’t have her waking up on the trip here,” came a woman’s voice right behind him. “You wanted her here alive, that’s what I brought you. One Federal Agent – alive. If you disapprove of my methods, then perhaps you should find yourself another gal to do your dirty work.”

 

“Perhaps you are right,” he replied and then punctuated his sentence with a gunshot.

 

I jumped and gasped. I opened my eyes as I felt a hand grab my hair and yank my head back. Looking into the face of my captor, I saw a devastatingly handsome man in his mid- to late-thirties with beautiful green eyes. His demeanor radiated malice and I felt my blood turn to ice. “So glad to see you awake, Agent Mortis. Now let’s talk…”

 

 

From: SAMMCGEE1

 

Vern Hinkson woke with a start. Heart pounding, he groped under his pillow.

 

"Looking for something?" Hinkson froze at the sound of the voice. He saw a shape, shrouded by shadows, sitting in the corner of his darkened bedroom.

 

Hinkson wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

 

"Vern, Vern, Vern, Vern, Vern--you disappoint me," Mcgee said. "My associate and I went to a lot of trouble to bring down that plane. Imagine my surprise when I found out we crashed a plane on the wrong house."

 

Hinkson gulped. "I-I-I couldn't help it. I'm in enough trouble enough already."

 

"That you are," Mcgee said. A tiny red dot appeared on Hinkson's chest.

 

"Where do you want it, Vern, in the heart or in the head?"

 

"Please!" Hinkson begged, "I can make it up to you."

 

"Yes," Mcgee said, "I do believe you can."

 

Hinkson saw a bright flash in the corner and suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He slumped back on the bed, blood spreading across his T-shirt. Mcgee walked casually across the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

"Say goodnight, Vern." She pressed the muzzle of the Glock against his forehead and squeezed the trigger. She pulled a group of snapshots from the pocket of her leather jacket and scattered them across Hinkson's body. She patted his cheek.

 

"I don't like being disappointed, Vern."

 

 

From: SAMMCGEE1

 

From: The Boulder Times Online

BOULDER COP FOUND DEAD

 

Boulder police Sgt. Vernon Hinkson, 48, was found shot to death in his home yesterday. According to sources, several photographs of a recent small plane crash in a suburban Boulder neighborhood were found near the body.

 

Investigators from the NTSB have not yet determined the cause of the crash but they believe the plane may have been brought down deliberately. Four people were believed to be aboard the plane when it left the Boulder airport.

 

So far, only three bodies have been recovered.

 

Hinkson, a 20-year veteran of the Boulder Police Department, was just recently cleared of corruption charges. A spokesman from the District Attorney's office said the corruption investigation will likely be reopened.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I had dropped off Agent Fayme at the crash site where the house had been before the airplane had landed into it. "Talk to the FAA investigators. Talk to anybody. Find out something. Anything."

 

I left Agent Fayme with Special Agent Lemming from the Boulder field office. I had just started to turn left after stopping at the end of the long road which ran beside the crash site when I saw the familiar appearance of a VW van.

 

"Agent Samantha?" Byers head poked out of the driver's window.

 

I sighed heavily, but rolled my window farther down. "Yes?"

 

"We may have a lead on Agent Mortis. By using a series of commands and signals from our mainframe and bouncing them off various Palm Pilots in North America we managed to triangulate, track, and eliminate 95% of them in the greater Boulder area as potentially belonging to Agent Mortis. That just leaves us with 5%, and we believe one of the remaining ones belongs to you."

 

"If you could turn yours on for us for just a moment," Langly's voice yelled from the back of the van.

 

Still sitting in my car, I reached over beside me and flipped on my PDA.

 

"Got it!" Langly's voice still emerged.

 

"And do you know if Agent Fayme has her PDA?" Byers asked.

 

"I'd guess so," I nodded my head.

 

"Great!" Langly's head emerged suddenly from behind Byers. "So that just leaves us with three primary locations where Agent Mortis could be."

 

"Assuming that Agent Mortis had her PDA with her at the time she was kidnapped," Byers nodded, "and that the kidnappers are holding her in close proximity to it."

 

"Well, where are the locations?" I snapped at them.

 

"Follow us," Byers threw the van into reverse.

 

I grabbed my cell phone and hit the AutoDial. "Agent Fayme? It's Sam. I'm following a lead on Agent Mortis with the two remaining Lone Gunmen. Call me if you find out anything at all about the crash site or the missing victims. And stay with Agent Lemming, okay? I don't want to tell Skinner that we have two missing agents in Boulder...plus Sara who's probably getting the tan and time of her life in Hawaii."

 

"Hawaii?" Fayme's voice sounded understandably annoyed. "Why didn't we go on that one?"

 

"Because we're stuck in Boulder," I replied in an equally annoyed tone. Closing the connection, I put both hands on the wheel to keep up with Byers' ability to make a vehicle that old move that quickly.

 

 

From: Fayme

 

I really didn't mind staying with this agent lemming. Even though he was like 10 to 15 years older then me he was quite the looker. "Focus Fayme you are on a very important case." I told myself. Then my mind drifted of to SAC Sara who was probably in Hawaii.

 

what was she doing there? Now I was really confused.

 

"Well one thing at the time Fayme first this crash site."

 

Jeez this place was a mess. I remembered the time when I was 6 or 7 and I had seen a plane go down. If that plane would have crashed earlier me and my family would have been history. But we were lucky not like the hundreds of people who died because the plane had crashed just between two apartment buildings and they both got on fire.

 

"Wow what?"

Agent Lemming snapped me back.

 

"Is something wrong agent? he asked

 

"ah yes ah no ah no I mean. The site of this just got to me for a sec. I'm fine now. Lets go and talk to the FAA"

 

After a talk with the FAA I was still pretty clueless. They just said the plane got some engine problems. I called SAC Sam to tell her what I had found (which was almost nothing) and to see if she would know anything I forgot to ask and if she had made any progress on finding my case partner.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I nodded my head as Agent Fayme relayed her latest findings. "Well, I have a new lead," I told her over my cell phone. "Byers here found an article in this morning's newspaper about a dead police officer who was found with all sorts of interesting airplane photos spread around him. Go with Agent Lemming, and see if you two can learn if this dead officer is connected to our case in any way."

 

"We'll get right on it," Famye replied after copying the details which I read to her over the phone.

 

Hanging up, I looked over at Byers. "So have we narrowed down our leads on Agent Mortis?"

 

"Only two more locations to check out," Langly replied from the back of the van where he sat with an impressive amount of equipment surrounding him and headphones around his neck.

 

"I seriously suspect a conspiracy here," Byers began.

 

"When don't you suspect a conspiracy?" I countered. "Let's just go, guys, okay? I would really like to find Agent Mortis."

 

"Yes, ma'am," Byers gave me a wry grin, and I sat back in my seat, wondering about where poor Mortis might be.

 

If Sara came back with Frohike, and they were both tanned, I might be seriously tempted to accuse them both of being John Delphi clones and shooting them.

 

 

From: Agent Mortis

 

I ran my dry tongue over my dry lips. My captors had not been hospitable when I refused to help them, and had left me to die in this place – where ever this was. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, days, a week? I figured SAC Sam was looking for me, but I had given up hope of ever being found alive. I couldn’t remember when I last had water. I had been drifting in and out of consciousness and was certain I was about to meet my maker.

 

I surveyed my surroundings. I saw several long tables with different tools attached to them. It seemed to be some sort of machine shop, a warehouse perhaps. Wait, no. I saw a rudder and a prop. I must be in some sort of hangar.

 

I began to rock side to side, not caring if I made any noise. The chair went over with a bang, slapping the side of my head into the cement floor. I imagined I could feel my brain ricochet around my skull. “Well, that wasn’t such a good idea, now was it?” a little voice inside my head asked me. When the throbbing subsided, I began to struggle feebly against the tape, marshalling my remaining strength in a vain attempt to escape. I would be damned before I laid down and just died without a fight.

 

 

From: SAMMCGEE1

 

Lena Tjeerdsma left her house, carrying a bag of garbage. She kept her eyes focused on the ground, muttering to herself, as she shuffled towards her trashcan. When she saw the man standing by the garbage can, she was, to say the least, surprised. Her eyes traveled up from the ground slowly. Bare feet, bare legs, bare...

 

"Ole!" she screamed, "get the gun, there's a naked man out here!" She snatched up the lid from the dented can and held it up like a shield.

 

"You stay away from me, you pervert! Ole!"

 

The man looked dazed. "I-I lost my watch," he said pointing to his wrist. "I think they took it."

 

Lena backed towards the house, still clutching the metal lid. "O-LEEE!!!"

 

The man followed her. "They took my clothes..." His forehead furrowed as he tried to concentrate. "All those tubes..."

 

Lena shrieked as he grabbed her by the arms.

 

"There was a man there," he babbled, "an evil man--so evil he glowed!"

 

He released Lena and grabbed his head. "He took me to a horrible place--they did tests..." He dropped to his knees and started to cry. "Leah--they did the tests on her, too..."

 

He raised his hands up to the old woman. "You have to help me," he sobbed.

 

Lena's eyes narrowed as she stared at the blubbering naked man.

 

"F*** you," she said. She raised the lid and smashed it over the man's head. He collapsed onto lawn, unconscious.

 

 

From: DEEPERTHROAT

 

Agent Mortis could hear footsteps approaching her from behind. She continued to struggle- to free herself from her bonds- but to no avail. The footsteps became louder as the mysterious stranger continued his slow approach...

 

"Whatever are you doing lying on the floor agent?' I said. (me, being the approaching stranger.) "That is wholly undignified for an employee of the federal government. What would your superiors say if they could see you now?"

 

Agent Mortis continued to struggle. There was no use in continuing her charade of feigning unconsciousness, I knew she was awake.

 

Slowly and deliberately I reached into my long black trenchcoat and pulled out my machete. "Hold still," I told the agent, and brought the giant knife down in one great arc.

 

Cut pieces of rope fell by Agent Mortis's side - she was free. A look of gratitude upon her face was quickly replaced by one of distrust. As she stood up, she looked me up and down. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded. "And what the hell happened to your face."

 

I tossed the agent her cell phone and unloaded weapon. "You are free to leave here now," I said, completely ignoring her questions. "But you must hurry. One of your key witnesses - one of the people you originally came out here to investigate - has been returned. But he will not be safe for long. Already factions are moving in to cleanse him."

 

Agent Mortis cut in "You mean...Straub? But... I figured them for dead."

 

"Call your fellow agents Ms. Mortis. There is not much time." I turned around and began walking towards the exit.

 

Agent Mortis called after me, "But who are you? Why are you helping me?"

 

I paused briefly before turning around. "When you find the man responsible for this cover-up and for your kidnapping, I want you to pass on a message for me." I reached in my pocket and pulled out a dum-dum lollipop. I slowly undid the wrapper and stuck the lollipop in my mouth, biting down hard on the sweet candy. I removed the stick from my mouth and dropped it on the floor. "Let him know," I continued. "that when he tries to kill a man, that he'd better make sure that that man is dead."

 

And with that, I turned back towards the door and walked away.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I had abandoned my own car for the convenience - certainly not the comfort - of riding in the van with Byers and Langly. We were down to our last possible location where Agent Mortis might be held when Byers let out a sharp exclamation followed by, "What's that?"

 

I looked up. A black sedan was turning left on a street far ahead of us, but almost directly beside us, I saw the pale and bewildered face of Agent Mortis.

 

"Mortis!" I threw open the door of the van and was out of the VW before Byers had even stopped the vehicle. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? How did you escape?"

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

I slipped around the corner and hid behind a door when I heard the approaching footsteps. A man had entered the dim room and walking towards Agent Mortis. I drew my Glock and aimed at the middle of his back--I didn't want Mortis dead--yet. He pulled out a machete--I started to squeeze the trigger--but then I saw he wasn't going to kill her. I exhaled slowly and lowered my weapon. He had come for the same reason I had.

 

I waited while he freed the agent, then I followed him out the door. He stopped in the hallway and faced me. He wasn't the least bit concerned about the Glock I now had pointing at his chest. He seemed amused.

 

"Why Ms. Mcgee, what would Morley say if he saw you here?"

 

"Probably the same thing he'd say if he knew you were here," I replied. I put my gun away and he laughed.

 

"Come, let me buy you a beer--it appears we have much to talk about..."

 

 

From: Deep R. Throat

 

A dark, low-rent, smoke filled bar. Harley bikers and leather clad lasses pounded whiskey while sucking on big fat cigars. Two shadows entered through the ghost town style saloon doors and slunk silently into a secluded booth. A haggard looking waitress came slowly up to the table, cigarette dangling from her mouth, ash half an inch long. She didn't look much more than 30, but her eyes said she was 100.

 

"What the hell ya want?" she said, clenching the cigarette in her teeth, the ash dropping to the floor. She looked at my face. "Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck happened to you?"

 

I could understand her surprise. A good three quarters of my face was covered by gauze, only my right eye and my mouth were exposed. Not that those portions of my face were all that pretty, but I had to see and speak somehow.

 

My charred and crusted lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing teeth blackened like a Twinkie in a microwave. I was about to tell the waitress where to go and how to get there when my companion spoke up.

 

"Bottle of your finest whiskey and two clean glasses with ice." I turned and looked at Sam as our waitress turned with a huff and walked away. Sam gave me a half smile as if she knew what I was thinking.

 

"No one but you knows that I'm still alive." I said. "I really hadn't planned on running into you like this. I'd really appreciate it if you could keep this fact to yourself."

 

Sam laughed. "You know that I go to the highest bidder. I can't promise you a damn thing."

 

"Dammit McGee!" I half shouted, my throat hoarse from both my injuries and my thirst. "This is no joke here. I want you to keep quiet about this."

 

"Yeah, yeah." she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I'll go along with this for now. If for no other reason than for sheer curiosity of what you have planned."

 

The waitress returned with two dirty glasses, half filled with ice, and a plastic bottle of Bourbon.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

From my hospital room in Hawaii, I placed a call to SAC Jaythree.

 

"Sam, I'll be returning to Boulder in the morning." I said after she picked up.

 

"Sara? What happened? Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah, I'm, ow, fine. I'll see you in the morning, just wanted to give you a heads up."

 

"Thank god. I don't think I could have taken another day with you know who and you know who else."

 

"Speaking of which," I said, smiling, "Could you arrange to have Frohike picked up at the airport? He's flying in tonight."

 

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a long, low sigh. "Sure, fine, whatever." Sam replied. "Remind me to kill you once you're fully recovered."

 

"Oh, come on," I grinned. "You love me and you know it."

 

Then she hung up on me. I was still grinning.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I hung up the phone, relieved that Sara was returning, happy that she was alive so I still had the possibility of killing her myself for leaving me with Byers and Langly.

 

Okay. They weren't *that* bad once I became accustomed to dealing with them. They had a unique perspective on life, I tried to remind myself. I found myself constantly reminding myself of that fact.

 

"We can't find any prints at all, Agent Jaythree." I turned to look at the Boulder forensics expert who had come to scour the site where Mortis had been held hostage. "The only thing we can find in this building that doesn't belong here is this," he handed me a small scrap of paper enclosed in an evidence bag.

 

"What is it?" I squinted at it, trying to see if there were words too faint to read, but it looked like a blank piece of paper with a few ink smudges.

 

"I think it's the bottom of a credit card receipt. See the lines there?" He pointed.

 

I looked. "And you can identify this as a credit card receipt based on that?"

 

"No, ma'am, but it's our best shot."

 

"Thank you," I nodded and smiled. I had sent Mortis to the ER with a paramedic team. We (the Boulder police and I) would finish the debriefing once I was sure that my agent was physically okay. Now Byers approached as soon as the Boulder police officer moved away from me.

 

"I found this," he held up a small stick. "You want to bag it?"

 

"Where did you find it?" I was still wearing gloves so I took it from his forceps. "Do you always carry forceps with you when you travel?"

 

"Had 'em out in the van," Langly looked smug.

 

"Of course you did," I put the stick into the bag. "It just looks like a lollipop stick to me. Could be trash."

 

"It could be," Byers nodded his head. "But this place had been otherwise wiped clean, so I'm willing to bet it was a last minute item. You could run a DNA test on the saliva."

 

I stared at Byers for a long moment. "Thanks for the suggestion," I finally replied. "Agent Zeuty called. Frohike should be landing in Boulder sometime this evening. You boys will take care of picking him up at the airport, won't you?"

 

"Absolutely," Byers nodded.

 

"He better have brought me a present," Langly added.

 

"Agent Jaythree," one of the detectives moved closer to me and threw a suspicious glance at the two civilians. "I'm headed to the hospital now for Agent Mortis' statement. Need a ride?"

 

"Thanks, don't mind if I do," I smiled at the man. "You two will take care of Frohike, right? I don't know what plane he's coming --"

 

"No problem," Lanlgy waved a hand.

 

"We'll see you at the motel," Byers added as I left.

 

"See you there," I replied and walked outside to a waiting unmarked police car.

 

"Are those men some sort of undercover Bureau agents?" The detective asked.

 

"They're unique," I replied and hoped the detective wouldn't ask me again.

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

To: Special Agent Fayme

CC: Special Agent Lemming

From: Arlene Guthmiller

National Transportation and Safety Board

 

RE: Boulder Plane Crash

 

Our preliminary analysis of the crash debris strongly indicates that the engine failure was caused either by pilot error or design, i.e., the engines were simply turned off.

 

We found a small piece of an exotic electronic device in the wreckage. The technicians were able to lift a serial number and we traced it back to the manufacturer. The device was one of several designed under a Department of Defense contract. The exact agency that received the units is classified, as is the exact function of the device.

 

It appears to a type of homing device. The technology is similar to what the military uses in "smart bombs". A targeting beacon would be used to direct the ordnance to its target.

 

We also received a statement from an eyewitness who claims he saw someone parachute from the plane before it crashed. The jumper then left the scene in a brown minivan driven by someone else. The local PD didn't bother to mention this to us until this morning. That could explain why we only found three bodies in the wreckage.

 

These findings suggest that we may be dealing with a highly sophisticated terrorist organization. The Boulder PD are investigating the homeowners for any possible links to terrorist activities.

 

We will continue our investigation and keep you informed of any further developments.

 

Arlene Guthmiller

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

The waitress slapped the glasses and the bottle on the sticky table. I picked up one of the tumblers--the ice was even dirtier than the glass. The waitress slouched with one hand on her hip and the other extended, palm up.

"Fifteen dollars, lady."

 

I examined the bottle. "Fifteen dollars for this stuff? We'll be lucky if we don't go blind drinking it."

 

The harpy bent over the table, showing a frightening lack of cleavage. She balled up her fist in front of my face.

 

"Fifteen dollars, bimbo."

 

DRT started to chuckle. The waitress snapped at him.

 

"What's the matter with you! Are you a child?"

 

That tone--that attitude--it was so familiar... As a test, I showed her my gun. She looked at me like I was an insect.

 

"I don't want that," she snarled.

 

I looked at DRT and he shrugged. "Go for it."

 

A pop, a flash and the annoying waitress folded up and dropped to the floor.

 

DRT poured the bourbon and we silently toasted the dead waitress. I tossed the foul-tasting liquid back and barely suppressed a shudder as it burned its way down my throat. DRT sucked his down and poured another round, looking like Hannibal Lecter with a plateful of pancreas.

 

I drank the second glass. "How can you drink this crap?" I asked him. "It tastes like liquid Drano."

 

"I'm on a liquid diet," he said pouring himself another glass. "Because of my injuries, you know."

 

I filled my glass again--maybe it didn't taste so bad after all.

 

"So I take it Hawaii wasn't all Don Ho and poi, eh? What the hell is poi anyway?"

 

DRT drained his glass. His eye was starting to water. "Beats the hell outta me--if I can't drink it, I can't be bothered with it." My glass has mysteriously refilled itself.

 

"So what happened to you?" I asked him. "You look like...(careful)...uh, like not your normal self."

 

He leaned across the table, charred skin flaking off his blackened lips.

 

"Morley," he hissed.

 

I understood only too well. Who else could have scared Vern Hinkson so much that he would lie to me? Who else would have wanted to set me up? It was beginning to make sense to me now...

 

I leaned over the table and looked him straight in his one eye.

 

"We've got to get that ice ball," I whispered.

 

 

From: Deep R. Throat

 

The bottle finished along with the waitress, the conversation traveled back outside.

 

The sun was half hidden behind bronze clouds. A cold breeze blew making eerie whistling sounds through the dilapidated bar roof. The shingles rattled like the bones of a dead man waiting for his turn to be judged. "I'm gonna go underground for a while McGee." I said. "There are a few things I need to take care of before going after Morley."

 

McGee nodded in agreement. "I could tell that just by looking at you." she said. "You're in no shape to even be walking. Hell, you look like a mummified Sam Spade in that getup." We both reached into our jackets for a cigarette. Trademark Morley .

 

I took a puff and held the smoke in my lungs for a long time. Exhaling through my nose, smoke filtered by layers of bandages, I threw the barley smoked butt on the ground and put it out with my shoe. "I think it's time I changed brands."

 

McGee merely smiled at me. "I don't know" she said. "Smoking is life, it is addictive. I'm not going to quit cold turkey." She looked me up and down. "Christ," she said. "You're lucky to be alive."

 

"Nope." I replied. "I'm just that good."

 

We shared a little chuckle as the cold wind blew through her hair. I could feel the cold sting through my coverings, sending little pins and needles of gooseflesh over the course of my body. What hair I had left, the hair that had not been burnt from my flesh, stood on end.

 

"I need you to watch him for me." I told McGee. "Keep track of his actions. Find a pattern to his life. Find a weakness and get ready to exploit it when the time comes for action."

 

Mcgee nodded in silent agreement.

 

"In the meantime," I continued. "There's the matter of that Straub gentleman who I recently dumped from the project. He'll undoubtedly be picked up by local officials for public nudity and...I don't know, Insanity or something. I need you to get word to the feds investigating this case. Start to set a trap for the man."

 

McGee started to protest, but I spoke first, cutting her off. "I would do it myself but there are a few agents working this case who could potentially identify me. As it is, there are already too many people who know that I am still alive."

 

I could tell what McGee was thinking. She knew that I was including her in the list of "too many people." There was an unsaid bond that had just formed between us, a bond between liars. Neither one of us could be trusted, and we both knew that we would kill the other if it would aid in our plans. But for now we were partners.

 

As I walked away she asked, "How will I get a hold of you?" already knowing the answer.

 

"You won't," I replied. "I contact you when the time is right."

 

I walked on, feeling the cold wind more than ever.

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

Well--that was a neat trick. Now *I'm* supposed to keep tabs on Morley Cigs, a man I've never even met in person? Oh well, I thought, I do like a challenge. I hailed a cab (another neat trick in this neighborhood) and went home to clean up.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Dressed in a conservative business suit and armed with the proper identification, getting into the psych-ward at St. Vincent's hospital was a breeze. The nurses didn't seem too happy to have Michael Straub back in the hospital, nor were they pleased with the presence of yet another FBI agent.

 

The ward nurse showed me to Straub's "room", an eight by ten foot padded cell. Straub was huddled in a corner, hugging himself and nodding his head. The nurse held out her hand.

 

"I'll have to take your weapon, Agent LeBarge," she said. "He's quiet now, but he does have violent outbursts."

 

I grit my teeth and smiled thinly as I surrendered my gun. She unlocked the door and pointed to red button near the door frame.

 

"When you're finished or if he gives you any trouble, just hit that button," she told me.

 

I entered the padded room and she locked the door behind me.

 

I walked over to the cowering man.

 

"I want to help you, Mr. Straub, but you have to help me, OK? Good. Now I need you to listen very carefully." I held up a pencil. "Now concentrate on the pencil and relax--just let yourself go..."

 

Straub's eyes glazed over as he stared at the pencil. That was sure easy--the Project technicians must have done a very good job on him.

 

"Now Mr. Straub, you don't remember who took you from the hospital, do you?"

 

He shook his head. "It was an evil man..."

 

"No, Mr. Straub, you don't remember anything about leaving the hospital."

 

"I don't remember leaving the hospital," Straub repeated in a monotone voice.

 

"Very good. Now, the man responsible for your abduction is called Morley Cigs. He's a very dangerous man and its important that you tell the FBI agents that he gave all the orders. Everything that happened to you and your wife was ordered by Morley Cigs. Can you remember that?"

 

Straub nodded, a thin rope or saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth.

 

"Morley..." he said slowly.

 

I patted his head. "Very good. Now I'm going to count to three and you're going to take a little nap. When you wake up, you'll remember everything we talked about, but you won't remember me. One, two, three..."

 

Straub fell over, sound asleep.

 

I buzzed the nurse and she let me out of the room.

 

"Mr. Straub sure is popular today," she said nodding towards the desk. I looked down the hall--DAMN! The real FBI.

 

"Where's my gun?" I asked quickly.

 

"Oh dear," she said, "I must've left it at the desk."

 

I looked down the hall. The agents looked back at me, suspiciously. There was no other way out. I followed the nurse to the desk. I smiled and shoved the nurse into them and ran like hell.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I had picked up Agent Mortis from the ER at Boulder General and then proceeded to Saint Vincent to see if the man picked up by authorities was really Michael Straub. If so, he had quite a few questions to answer.

"I'm positive that it *is* Mr. Straub," the nurse nodded her head at me as Mortis and I stood by the nursing station. "I was working the trauma unit when he was initially admitted to St. Vincent's the first time."

 

"Wait a minute," Mortis protested, her face still rather pale. The ER doctors had released her, but the fact that she had suffered a mild concussion had made her account of events during her kidnapping somewhat inconclusive. "I interviewed the hospital staff who said there was no record of the Straubs or --"

 

"Computer glitch," the nurse shrugged. "It's been happening to lots of our data. One minute the records are there. The next minute, they're gone."

 

Mortis and I looked at each other and nodded. Delphi clones. If they were attacking the hospital's systems, who knew what would be their next target?

 

"My goodness, Mr. Straub must be involved in a very important case to be receiving so much FBI attention." The nurse added.

 

"What do you mean?" Mortis asked.

 

"Agent LeBarge is talking with Mr. Straub right now. Didn't you know that?"

 

I looked at Mortis. Mortis looked at me. I turned back to the nurse. "Is -- 'Agent LeBarge' still with Mr. Straub?"

 

"Why, there she is now," the nurse pointed to a woman in a conservative suit who was walking down the hallway towards us with another nurse beside her.

 

"I think we should speak with Agent...ah...LeBarge, don't you, Mortis?" I was already reaching back for my weapon as the woman approached us.

 

The unknown agent appeared calm and non-threatening until she and the nurse beside her reached the nursing station. At that point, the woman shoved the nurse beside her into Mortis and me. I heard running footsteps echoing down the hallway.

 

"Check on Straub!" I yelled at Mortis. I took off in the direction which the unknown woman had last been seen. I saw an emergency exit slowly swinging shut ahead of me. Grasping the edge of the door, I stepped inside and found myself in a stairwell. I looked up and down, listening for footsteps. Hearing the faint clatter of what sounded like heels striking concrete, I hurried down the staircase in pursuit -- I hoped -- of this mysterious 'agent' on the case.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I ran down the stairs as fast as I could, thankful again that I never wore heels except for formal affairs. I could hear the clatter of footsteps below me. Then they stopped. I nearly smacked into the interior concrete wall as I also stopped to listen. With my gun already out, I pointed it over the rail and peered cautiously below me.

 

I could just make out the edge of a door swinging shut. Pushing back into high speed, I ran the rest of the way down to the level where I had seen the door closing. Taking a deep breath, I flung open the door and led the way out with my gun...

 

...into a covered parking garage. I looked, but there was no sight of anyone running away. While there were plenty of cars, the area looked otherwise deserted. I took a few hesitant steps into the dimly lit structure.

 

Taking another deep breath, I quickly sprinted, gun held down but ready, the length of the lower level of the parking garage. It was hopeless. I saw no one, and the number of places to hide were too many for a single agent.

 

Returning my weapon to its holster, I walked slowly back to the stairwell door to climb back up to see if Agent Mortis had learned anything, and if our witness, Michael Straub, were still alive.

 

 

From: Sara Kathryn Zeuty

 

MESSAGE TO: All Investigating Agents on Case #Y-2723

FROM: SAC Zeuty

RE: Briefing

 

I just wanted to let you all know I have returned to Boulder, alive, well and untanned.

 

I'd like to call a meeting at the Comity ASAP, so that I can be updated on the status of investigations thus far, and we can determine how best to proceed.

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

I reached the psychiatric ward of St. Vincent's. I was slightly winded, but nothing like a good run to remind you that you're still alive. "Where's Agent Mortis?" I asked the duty nurse.

 

"She's in Mr. Straub's room," the woman pointed back down the hall.

 

"Thank you," I nodded my head and started walking in that general direction. I wasn't sure what Mortis had found in the room...a crazed patient, a dead body, or merely a burn mark of the floor where our witness had last stood? At this point, I would discount nothing.

 

::RR--iing RR--iing::

 

"Samantha," I answered my cell phone after flipping it out of my pocket.

 

"It's Sara," the voice on the other end sounded too relaxed for me at the moment. "I'm back in Boulder. Where are you?"

 

"I'm at St. Vincent's. Working on this case and not spending sunny afternoons on the beach with Frohike."

 

There was a pause. "Do you feel better now?" Sara remarked rather dryly.

 

"Yeah, sorry," I sighed. "I just had a potential suspect get away. I didn't mean to take it out on you. Someone was posing as an agent and using that to visit Michael Straub. He turned up again, naked and incoherent, in a Boulder suburb."

 

"Any ID on the mystery agent?"

 

"She identified herself as an Agent LeBarge. Apparently showed the nurse a badge that looked genuine. We have the suspect's gun which she left at the nursing station."

 

"This doesn't sound good," Sara observed. "What about Straub?"

 

I peeked through the small observation window. I could see Mortis talking to the man, but I couldn't hear if he was replying.

 

"Straub is still alive," I felt slightly better. "Don't know if he has anything useful to say, but he's still alive."

 

"When you're finished there, meet me back at the Comity. I want to review the evidence."

 

"Sure thing. Agent Fayme was with Agent Lemming from the Boulder office. And the two stooges were supposed to pick up the third at the airport. Give us another half hour here, and we'll head back towards the Inn. Oh, and Sara?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Sorry I was rude earlier. Forgive me?"

 

"Not a chance."

 

"I didn't think so," I smiled. "What if I buy dinner for everybody tonight?"

 

"You're forgiven."

 

 

From: Fayme

 

Boulder morgue

 

"Agents Richard Lemming and Fayme Rach."

 

Agent Lemming said while we flashed our badges and they let us through.

"Ah could you show us the body of Sgt. Vern Hinkson?" Agent Lemming asked

"Of course" the lady said.

 

"Ah Ma'am I'd like to do another autopsy on the body. To see if the last one was conclusive." I said.

 

"Well knock yourself out" the lady replied to me.

 

"Where are the victim's belonging's because they are really important to this case." Agent Lemming said

"well the local PD has them" the lady said really irritated.

 

"Well I'll go and pick them up while you do the autopsy and I'll meet up with you here again.'' Agent Lemming said

 

"Sure" I replied.

 

So I changed into some latex gloves, some eye protectors and a white coat and I was ready to go.

 

"18-2-2000 5.34 PM starting autopsy on the late Vern Hinkson, a 48 year old male." I sighed.

"Probable cause of death: a bullet was shot through the scull with a revolver which was found next to the body but without a serial number along with some crash site pictures.

Before he was shot he was badly abused but survived the punches and was after that shot. Bla bla bla........."

 

Just when I was ready agent lemming showed up again with the pictures. He dropped me off at the Motel and gave me the pictures along with my autopsy report. And he went off to his own home.

 

When I knocked on Sac Sam's door to my surprise Sac Sara opened the door.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

"Come on in," I heard Sara say to someone at the door to my room. "We moved the meeting into Sam's room. Somehow her room looks bigger than mine, don't you think?"

 

"The rooms all look the same to me," Fayme replied. "Oh, this is Agent Lemming."

 

I turned to look at the tall agent whom Fayme had just introduced.

 

"That's SAC Sara Zeuty," Fayme was making the introductions for us, "SAC Samantha Jaythree, and that's --" pointing at Mortis who was just emerging from the miniscule bathroom in the motel room, "Agent Mortis."

 

"Okay, people," Sara immediately took charge. "We have few facts, and the facts we do have seem to keep disappearing. Any clues on who kidnapped Agent Mortis?"

 

"Negative," I shook my head. "Other than the fact that our rental car was stolen, our rooms are being taped, and our witnesses keep disappearing, no direct evidence from the crime scene."

 

"However," Mortis picked up the thread, "Michael Straub was trying to tell us something. He kept mentioning the word Morley. Do you think he means the cigarette? Do you think it's important?"

 

Sara and I exchanged a glance. Agent Fayme nodded her head as well.

 

"Morley? It's a popular brand," the lone male voice spoke up. Agent Lemming was obviously not well versed in the work of either the X Files or the Y Files. Then again, he was probably hoping for a position on the fast track to advancement within the Bureau.

 

"The gun which was left at the nursing station provided us with fingerprints, but those prints are not on record in any local or national database," I continued. "I gave a description of the woman who posed as an agent to the Boulder police, and they're supposed to see what they can do to locate this woman."

 

"What about the gun itself?" Sara shot back at me.

 

"Serial number had been filed away. We can't trace it, either."

 

"And Leah Straub is still missing," Mortis added.

 

"So basically," Agent Lemming leaned back in his chair beside the small table. "We have no suspects, no evidence, and no leads." He shrugged. "Doesn't sound like we have anything to go on at all."

 

::knock, knock::

 

Sara looked at me. "Are you expecting anyone?"

 

"Who do I know in Boulder?" I replied and went to the door. Even with a room full of agents, I checked before opening the door. "It's Byers."

 

Opening the door, I looked at his serious face which seemed even more serious than usual. "What happened?"

 

"You'll never believe me if you don't see this for yourself," he grabbed my arm and hauled me back into the room. Langly was right behind him.

 

While Lanlgy closed the door and locked it, Byers released my arm and went to the television set. Flipping it on, he switched to a local station which was covering breaking news on the other side of Boulder.

 

 

From: SamanthaJ3

 

The brown-haired anchorwoman on the TV cleared her throat,

 

"From the CNN News Desk in Atlanta:

 

"This news just in from our affiliate station in Boulder, Colorado. What appears to be a large meteorite or other unknown substance has just fallen literally from the sky and landed two miles south of the downtown Boulder district. A Wal-Mart store was hit, collapsing the roof of the structure, and trapping victims inside.

 

"The FAA has neither confirmed or denied that there was any airplane activity in the area at the time of the crash. Investigators are en route to the site even as emergency crews are staging search and rescue operations.

 

"We'll keep you posted with more news as it becomes available--"

 

Byers flipped off the TV set. "Well? You can see the conspiracy involved here?"

 

I looked at Sara and the others. "No," I shook my head. "What conspiracy?"

 

"The government is testing a new smart bomb tracking system," Byers seemed serious enough.

 

"And they're testing it by launching fake meteorites from the Space Shuttle in orbit, and plotting the trajectories so that the missile-meteorites will land in certain locations," Langly continued.

 

"For what purpose?" I asked in disbelief.

 

"The ultimate first strike system," Byers responded. "No government but ours has the shuttle. And no other government is going to risk firing its missiles at every bit of space junk orbiting the planet."

 

"You guys watch too much TV," Sara shook her head. Turning to me, she added, "We can't help at a disaster scene, but we can track down any data from satellites just prior to the crash."

 

"Fine, but I want a guard stationed outside Michael Straub's room. Mortis, take first shift, and someone will relieve you in a few hours. Fayme and Lemming, go to the crash site. Stay out of the way, but see if there are any eyewitnesses to whatever crashed. Sara, you and I will see if anyone tracked that thing as it was coming in.

 

"Let's do it," I replied, and we dispersed to handle our various assignments.

 

 

From: Sam Mcgee

 

When I got back to my room at the Hyatt, I dropped my shoes into a garbage sack (heels! what was I thinking!). The brown wig and glasses were next. I dropped onto the bed and turned the TV on. The day had been an interesting one. I was surprised that Agent J3 had fallen for the old swinging door trick. She ran straight out into the parking garage without even bothering to check under the stairs...

 

Losing my Glock had been unfortunate, but in a way it may turn out to be useful. The gun itself could never be traced, but slugs from the gun could be matched with those taken from Hinkson and the dead waitress. And if Straub tells them Morley Cigs was behind his kidnapping, the two murders and the plane crash could also be connected to him. That should keep The Man busy.

 

I called room service for a nice bloody steak and turned on the shower. But something on CNN caught my eye. A meteorite had just taken out a Wal-Mart. Poetic justice or ...?

 

I looked through my closet. What does one wear to a Wal-Mart disaster?

 

 

From: Deep R. Throat

 

As the bandages were peeled from my face, a small glimmer of light began to seep through into my left eye socket.  My good right eye looked up in an attempt to see the man who was performing the un-bandaging act upon me, but could only make out a blurry shape. My ears could hear the sound of sharpened metal upon metal as the wrappings on my head were snipped away and discarded. My mind struggled to comprehend the situation - where was I? What was going on?

 

A voice from the darkness -"Don't worry sir, we're almost finished here." Could they read my mind? Could they feel my fear, my hatred, my craving for a drink?

 

A sharp pain in my right arm, a blinding flash of light. I rubbed my good eye with a gloved hand cautiously avoiding my left eye socket where only an empty hole remained. Too gross to touch. "Where am I?' I said out loud.

 

"You're home sir," came a voice from behind me. I turned slowly and beheld a man who, if not for my horrible disfigurements, would have looked like my twin.

 

"Nine Thousand-One?" I asked. The man nodded, a smirk on his lips. I sighed and looked around. Tanks of green liquid, tubes and wires and hoses akimbo, flasks and beakers. I stood and walked across the lab towards the far wall where a full length mirror hung.

 

I looked myself over for a long time. My clothes were ripped and covered with filth. The gloves which were supposed to be covering my grotesque hands were missing several fingers, which reminded me of...who? Someone I had seen recently? The thought disappeared as quickly as it came. I looked at my face, or lack thereof. My left eye was gone, this much I had known, but my ears -my god, my ears- were burnt and black like bat wings. My once handsome head of hair was now a fried green tomato of a scalp. Bubbly and pus-filled.  A lone tear began to form in my cavernous left eye.

 

How had I even gotten back to my lab? What the hell had happened to my clothes? I heard a low cough, turned around and saw myself (it's not myself, it's Ninethousand-One) holding a scalpel. It caught the light and sent out sparks of starlight.

 

I nodded my head in consent as he smiled at me. I grinned back at him with coal black teeth like diamonds at midnight, took the scalpel from his hands, and began to cut my face from his skull. As blood splashed over my face, silent green tears dripping from my brow, I began to laugh.

 

Oh, how I laughed.

 

 

From: Morley Cigs

 

"Sir?" A young lieutenant asked.

 

"Yes. What is it?" Was it more bad news? By the look on his face, I already knew the answer.

 

"We've received a report for one of our operatives working for the FBI It appears that Michael Straub is talking." He seemed hesitant to go on.

 

I knew it was going to be bad news. "What's he saying?"

 

He seemed even more hesitant. "Ummmm. He' seems to be talking about you, sir."

 

"He what! He doesn't even know me. How the hell could this have happened?"

 

"I don't know, sir."

 

It was time to calm down. This wasn't my week. I've had a mole in my ranks, a gun to my head, a missing\dead operative, and now someone is trying to set me up. I needed a smoke, and I needed one badly. I lit one up. All right, time to get down to business. "Give me all of the information we have to date."

 

Ms. Black took this one. "What we know is that someone had entered Mr. Straub's room before a group of FBI agents arrived. The agents gave the individual a brief chase, but they were unable to catch her. Before this person 'visited' Mr. Straub, he had said nothing about you, but after that incident he began talking."

 

"You said 'she'? We know it was a woman?"

 

"Yes we do. The agent that chased her and the nurse identified this person as a woman. The name she gave was Agent LeBarge, but I'm sure it's bogus."

 

A woman? This was interesting. "What two operatives do we have in the field?"

 

"We have Martini Drinking Man and Sam Mcgee. Are you suggesting...?"

 

"That at least one of the operatives is trying to back stab me? Yes I am. I want you to go to Colorado, Ms. Black. Discover who is doing this. I will inform both Sam Mcgee and MDM to expect you. Understood?"

 

"Yes sir, but what are we going to about what Mr. Straub is saying?"

 

I gave a small chuckle. "What is he saying that is of any harm to me? He is talking about a person named Morley Cigs. That's not even my real name, and besides he seems quite mad. No one will believe him, but I want to know who gave him my name."

 

"Yes sir." She turned to leave.

 

"Ms. Black." I called for her. "Yes?" She answered.

 

"Find this person..." I took a long drag on my smoke. "...and kill them."

 

"Yes sir!"

 

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