disclaimer in part one
------------------------
T h e X - F i l e s
CONSPIRACY 10/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
-------------------------
8:51 p.m.
Langly came out of the coffee shop and climbed
back in the van,
starting the engine and swinging back out into traffic. If anyone
saw
the vehicle it would look like he was the only one inside.
"How're you two doing?" he called back into
the interior.
The back of the van was the stuff hacker's
dreams were made of.
Computer terminals, recording devices and much, much more lined the
two
side walls with bolted down chairs in front of both monitors.
Bateman
was in one of them, Mulder kneeling in front of her, fumbling around
in a
medical kit Scully had presented to the LG several months ago.
He found
some antiseptic and gauze and soaked the material in it, meeting
Bateman's eyes.
"I'd be lying if I said this wouldn't sting,"
he said.
"I don't care," she mumbled in reply, tilting
her head back as he
dabbed at the bloody line across her throat. She didn't even
wince,
staring straight ahead with a blank expression.
"Where're we going?" Langly asked.
"We need to contanct Skinner and find out
what's happened to
Byers and Shelton. You said Shelton shot the -- double?"
Mulder had
trouble saying the words.
"Yeah. Not much blood, just some kind
of toxic fumes."
"Like Caitlin Brown."
"Like me."
Bateman's words were so quiet that Mulder
doubted Langly heard her.
"I've got Shelton's cellular," the long haired
man offered
sensing the awkward silence.
Mulder came forward to grab it, also taking
two cups of coffee
the Langly had purchased, handing one back to Bateman, pausing to make
sure her slack hand was actually grasping it before he let go.
Fishing out a bottle of aspirin from the medical
kit, he
swallowed two for his sore head, washing them down with the coffee
before
offering the bottle to Bateman.
Punching the number for the FBI switchboard
into the cellular, he
waited for someone to pick up. "Yeah, this is Agent Mulder, put
me
through to AD Skinner."
*************************
8:53 p.m.
Taylor strode further into the room.
"I just got a call from our
boss. Shelton and Byers are both still alive. *Langly*
isn't even in
the hospital."
"He got away," the double muttered.
"But I hit the other two.
Point blank. They should be dead."
"Well, they're not," Taylor snarled.
"Byers is already in
recovery and Shelton's wound is also non-fatal."
"I shot him in the head."
"*Side* of the head. Did he shoot you?"
"Yes. It's healed over now, except for
the surface."
"Well, toxic shock has landed him in a coma,
thank-god. If Byers
comes out of recovery before we're through, our plan isn't going to
work."
"Yeah, well, I'm not the only one who left
a witness," the double
countered. "Frohike's still alive."
"Don't remind me."
Dana had been staying very quiet over in the
corner, listening
intently to the conversation. She thought her blood might freeze
over as
she heard about Doug and Byers. How could shooting the double
cause
toxic shock?
She'd seen the double get injured before and
the blood had been
red . . . but he had said something about a surface level.
Frohike was still alive. So were Byers
and Doug. She had to
take some comfort in that.
Taylor's eyes swept the room and settled on
her, a cruel smile
twisting his lips.
"Hello, Agent Scully," he said with mock-politeness.
"My
apologies for our surroundings, but I seem to be unable to practise
psychiatry anymore. Padded rooms are hard to come by outside
of medical
circles."
She glared at him, not saying anything.
Taylor continued unabated. "I see you
and my friend here are
becoming better aquainted. Allow me to introduce you. This
is Fox Mulder."
The double smiled faintly, the amused look
in his eyes painfully
familiar.
"Who is he really?" she demanded, finding
her voice.
Crossing the room, the double crouched in
front of her again.
"Ever hear of Peter Levison?"
The name was very familiar.
"The contract killer?" She remembered
a friend in Organized
Crimes talking to her about the man. He had been rumoured to
have killed
over a dozen people but no proof was ever found. Most of the
targets had
been political but some had drug connections. Eighteen months
ago he had
vanished from observation and as time went on, the OCS believed he
had
been terminated by his employers. But he had been a short, heavy
set man,
not much larger than she was. "What's he got to do with this?"
Taylor laughed. "He's right in front
of you, Scully."
"I know, I know," the double -- Levison --
said cheerily. "I'm
taller than you thought. I get that a lot these days."
"Impossible," she said flatly. "Fingerprint
analysis put yours
at a 95 percent match with Mulder's."
"Wonderful isn't it? Your *partner*,"
Taylor put a spin on the
word that made her want to squirm. " -- should be in custody
by now for
attempted murder and those fingerprints should seal the case.
Would you
perfer if I told you Mr. Levison here was a clone, engineered by beings
not of this earth?"
She didn't answer.
"Because that *is* a part of it," Taylor carried
on, coming
closer as if he were imparting a great secret. "*I* took Peter
Levison
and molded him into a new form. I had help of course -- some
Japanese
scientists I'm assured you know quite well."
Japanese scientists . . .
The implant.
<Oh God!>
Given the context, what he was saying was
possible.
"A lovely hybrid project -- one part Levison,
one part *alien* --
" his smile widened. "And, oh yes, one part DNA taken from a
medical
exam of Agent Mulder. You'd be amazed at what can be done with
raw
materials."
She stared at Levison in shock as the man
nodded agreement,
familiar face and expression taking on a whole new cast.
Taylor's expression suddenly hardened as if
a thought had struck
him, an amused smile freezing in place, turning glacial. "Show
her."
Levison twisted his head around and smiled
uncertainly. "I
thought you didn't want to kill her yet."
"A small display." Taylor tossed him
a pocket knife. "You've
been practising.
Dana watched with entranced horror as Levison
opened the knive,
drawing the blade across his wrist, wincing slightly. The knife
edge
penetrated deeply and she was reminded of her own recent experiences.
Red blood welled immediately, dripping down
his arm and he moved
it in her direction so she was sure to have a good view. Right
behind
the blood was a green vapour, drifting up from the wound.
The vapour stung her eyes and she tried to
jerk away but the
walls behind her halted her movements. The back of her throat
was
already feeling raw and she fought the need to cough, knowing that
would
incapaciate her, but the urge was too strong.
An explosive fit of coughting erupted from
her chest, stabbing
pain radiating out from her stomach wound.
But she could still see the wound closing
over, the green mist
tapering off until all that remained was a thin slice, lined with red
blood.
**********************************
Washington General Hospital
8:55 p.m.
Skinner dug out his pager when it went off
and headed for the
nearest phone.
"FBI operator," came a neutral voice.
"This is Skinner. You paged me?"
"One moment, sir."
He heard a series of clicks.
"AD Skinner?"
The voice was Mulder's but experience had
taught him that this
didn't mean much. "Yes?"
"Sir, this is Mulder. I was attacked
when I arrived at BWI by my
double. Sir, we have reason to believe you're a target."
"Really? And who might 'we' be, Agent
Mulder?"
"Agent Bateman, myself and a man named Langly.
He was there when
Shelton and Byers got shot."
Skinner had remembered seeing a trio of men
after the Raven Crest
incident. So far only one was unaccounted for. "Is Bateman
with you?"
"Yes. Hang on."
A few seconds later, Bateman came on the line.
"Sir?"
"Bateman, what's going on?"
"Mulder and I were both attacked upon arriving
back in D.C.,
sir. He says he saw his double."
"Bateman, can you tell me with 100 percent
assurity that you are
with the real Mulder?"
She paused. "Yes, sir."
"How can you tell?"
"Instinct, sir."
"All right. The Washington PD and half
the Bureau are on a witch
hunt. If they find him, he's in bigger trouble than we can get
him out of."
"Sir, how're Doug and Byers?" Her voice
nearly caught.
"Byers is going to be fine. So's Frohike,
by the way. He IDed
his shooter as Doctor Mark Taylor."
"What about Doug?"
He sighed, softened his tone. "Shelton
was shot in the head -- "
"Christ!"
"The doctor's assured me the bullet grazed
his skull but . . .
there was some sort of toxic contaminant involved. It's been
tentatively
identified as the same thing that killed a federal agent last year
and
nearly killed Mulder."
"We ran into the same thing in L.A.
That little girl was found
dead and her body sent out toxic fumes. One of the ME's out there
is in
the hospital . . . "
"Whatever this was is more diluted than what
we dealt with last
year, Bateman, but combined with the bullet wound, Shelton's -- he's
in a
coma. I'm sorry."
"Oh dammit . . . "
"Bateman, I want you to meet me at headquarters
in forty minutes,
all right? Bring Mulder -- I promise he won't be arrested there."
"Yes, sir."
"We've got to regroup."
*********************************
9:01 p.m.
Levison didn't completly understand what was
going on.
He knew what Taylor wanted him to do with
the knife and he'd done
it. The pain had been fleeting but there was a growing uneasiness
inside
him.
There was no reason why Shelton and Byers
should still be alive.
He remembered very clearly lining up his shot and firing a bullet into
Shelton's head. At the time he thought it had felt good, but
now he
wasn't so sure.
As he watched the flow of blood and green
vapour trail off, he
tried to analyze what he was feeling, but he couldn't.
Scully had stopped coughing but still struggled
with every
breath. Her eyes were now bloodshot and rimmed with red and for
some
reason that disturbed him.
Taylor, who had waited a fair distance away,
strode forawrd
again, but someone entered the building before he got very far.
Levison hadn't even heard a car pull up and
he chided himself for
not paying attention.
The man spotted Taylor and gestured wildly,
drawing the doctor
off to one side, speaking in hushed tones. Levison turned his
head to
watch for a minute before looking back at Scully.
She was looking at him with feigned calmness,
trying to control
her breathing, face drawn with pain.
Taylor had told him how she'd gotten so severly
injured,
including some details of the situation that even she was unaware of.
His first instinctive response had been a fierce rush of regret.
He had
thought it was because he had hated her so much, that he had wanted
to be
the one inflicting the pain. But now . . . now he wasn't so certain.
She looked from him to Taylor and back again.
When she spoke her
voice was painfully harsh. "What could he have possibly offered
you?"
He shrugged. "You feds were hounding
me. This was a way out. I
enjoyed the irony of working inside the FBI."
Taylor finished talking to the other man and
crossed the room in
only a few strides, coming to a halt by dropping to a crouch in front
of her.
"Tell me all you know about Agent Bateman,"
he said.
She stared at him for a moment and Levison
got the impression she
was debating whether or not to laugh in his face. He shook his
head
slightly, saw her gaze dart over to him and then away, to rest
impassively at a point about Taylor's left shoulder.
"Up to a certain point," Taylor said in a
deceptively gentle
tone, "I can get the information through recordings made of your own
memories, Agent Scully."
Her face went pale.
"Ah -- touched a nerve, did I?" He smiled
again. "Why don't you
save me the trouble."
"You want the information -- go find your
recordings." Her tone
held contempt.
Taylor drew back his hand but Levison stopped
his downward swing,
feeling the surprised looks of both Taylor and Scully landing on him.
"What are you doing?" Taylor demanded, anger
flaring.
"Why don't you tell her the real reason she
went chasing after
Saul Eldwin?" he said mildly, seeing Scully's shocked look.
The look of anger faded, replaced by a look
of amused pleasure.
********************
9:03 p.m.
Mulder held his silence after Bateman hung
up until he couldn't
stand it any longer.
"What'd he say?"
"Byers and Frohike are going to be fine,"
she said woodenly.
Langly's wide grin could be seen quite clearly
in the rearview
mirror. "Thank God."
"Frohike even IDed his shooter."
Mulder felt his stomach tighten in apprehension.
He was afraid
to find out, but he had to know. "Who was it?"
"Doctor Mark Taylor."
That hauntingly familar punched in the gut
feeling was back.
Taylor had been Raven Crest's administrator during Mulder's unwanted
stay
there. He'd seen the man only when the latter had some scrap
of
information to torment him with. He should have suspected that
Taylor
was involved if the double was there, but he must have blocked out
that
horrifying thought.
But Taylor *was* involved and he had Scully.
If the situation had been bad before, it was
even worse now.
Langly dared a look back. "What about
Shelton?"
His question drew Mulder's attention back
to the present. "Bateman?"
Her grey eyes were beaded with tears again.
"He was shot in the
head and coupled with the damn fumes . . . he's in a coma."
Mulder squeezed his eyes shut. "Bateman,
I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Mulder," she said automatically.
"*I*'m the one who left him there," Langly
put in dourly.
That caught her full attention. "Langly,
if you'd stayed you
might be in the same situation. At least he's still alive."
Some spark
had crept back into her voice. "Skinner wants us at the Bureau.
Sounds
like he wants to take the offensive."
Mulder nodded. "Langly?"
"We can be there in twenty minutes."
"Let's go."
***************************
9:18 p.m.
Dana decided that Taylor took the word unstable
to a whole new level.
His temper changed as quickly as a four year
old's and Levison
had managed to manipulate him into talking rather than attempting to
beat
information out of her.
She didn't know what Taylor wanted to know
about Bateman, but she
vowed not to give him *anything* he wanted. She also didn't know
why
Levison had interferred, but she did now believe he was Levison.
His
little show with the knife had convinced her, but he looked so much
like
Mulder that she wanted to trust him, but she couldn't.
In any case, Levison had definitely pleased
Taylor with his
suggestion and for that reason alone, she felt fear.
"Oh, yes," Taylor said, rocking back on his
heels. "Tell me,
Agent Scully, why did you pursue Saul Eldwin? Felt that you were
doing
your civic duty?"
She started at him not sure where he was going
with this.
"Of course you did. A strong sense
of justice -- that's what
you people are chosen for after all. But really, you were careless,
going off on your own, nearly getting killed. You disappointed
a lot of
people." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Most of them
had gambled that
you would die."
"What are you talking about?" She held
her voice steady.
He leaned closer and she started to flinch
away as his right hand
darted behind her neck, resting lightly, briefly, along the faint scar
that the impant had left behind as it's legacy. His hand came
back out,
through sleight of hand holding a similar computer chip, circuitry
dead.
"You should have left it in, Scully. You might not be held together
by
suturing silk." He laughed, a cruel, empty sound. "did
you think having
it removed would solve everything?"
"I'm not following," she said coolly.
"You tripped the failsafe."
"The what?"
"Preprogrammed in your subconsciousness --
" He tapped the
bruised side of her head -- "Is a failsafe. When the implant
was taken
out, you set it off."
She nearly laughed. It all sounded so
ludicrous. "If that were
true, I would have landed in the hospital eight months ago."
Taylor shrugged. "Bet your life on that?
Tell me, Scully, until
recently how where you and Mulder getting along? OH -- not too
well
then? Pity. I know my Asian colleauges arranged for you
to drift
further apart from him. More like when you were assigned to him
--
rational, combative. A perfect skeptic. Too bad.
I thought you two
would make a wonderful partnership.
She felt sick. There hadn't been a real
reason for her and
Mulder to drift apart like they had. Their arguments, mutual
antagonism
having no real grounding. Taylor's explaination took the onus
of blame
away from them, but put it on a shadow government, controlling her.
Controlling her . . .
Her disgust must have been painfully obvious
for Taylor laughed
again. "You played your part perfectly. Originally, they
wanted you to
return and kill Mulder, but this had so much more potential.
Using your
memories to spy and then if the implant was ever found, you would
alienate your partner and then grow self-destructive. The form
of your
self-destruction was up to you -- driving too fast on winter roads,
dodging into traffic -- Eldwin was convient. A very stupid, but
noble
way to get yourself killed.
She shook her head. "No."
"You don't believe me? Well, you think
about it while I take
care of business." He stood, turning to the man who had burst
in. "Keep
an eye on Skinner and call in."
The man left and Levison joined Taylor halfway
across the room.
With her back to the walls, she shivered.
Was Taylor telling the
truth? Did he have a reason to lie? She'd never truely
discovered the
ramifications of that implant. She'd been too busy arguing with
Mulder.
Mulder . . .
If she had been manipulated, her own mind
used against her, how
could she trust her feelings for him now? Her love for him could
be as
false as her anger had been.
Not now. She couldn't dwell on it now.
When she got the hell
out of here she could think about it.
The rope holding her arms was around the cast,
forcing her left
arm against the rough plaster. While Taylor and Levison huddled
together, she slowly rotated her right arm, back and forth against
the
hemp. Either the rope would break or the cast would. She
didn't care as
long as she got loose.
Back and forth.
She could deal with her jumbled emotions later,
once she was free
and had made sure her friends were all right.
Back and forth.
_____________________
end part ten
disclaimer in part one
______________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONPIRACY part 11/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
______________________
Hoover Building
9:26 p.m.
Mulder led the others across the FBI emblem
on the floor of the
lobby, coming in the tourist entrance to ease the hassle of getting
Langly in. They'd left everything in the van except the folder
and gun
Bateman had retrieved from her bag. The security guard looked
at them in
slack jawed shock, but waved them through after ascertaining the only
thing setting off the metal detctor was Bateman's gun.
Skinner was waiting for them in his office.
"You're early," he said.
"We're inspired," Mulder replied tossing the
folder onto his
boss' desk. "There's all we've got on Caitlin Brown. It
shows she was
pretty much created just to lure us to Los Angeles."
Skinner looked briefly down, then back up.
"You're saying she
was playing a role?"
Bateman slammed her fist down onto the desk.
"No! She was
genetically *engineered* to get us out there. She never was *real*."
She looked pale, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. Mulder and
Langly
pushed her into a chair.
Mulder turned on Skinner. "You'll have
to forgive Bateman, sir.
Someone tried to kill her not too long ago."
The older man saw the blood stains on her
blouse and the dried
blood on her suitcoat. She'd left her trenchcoat in the van,
disgusted
with it. The expression playing across the ex-marine's face showed
his
feelings on the situation.
"So what do we do now?' Langly asked impatiently.
Skinner's attention turned firmly to him.
"First of all we've
got to locate Taylor."
Mulder snorted. "I doubt he's listed
in the phone book."
"*And* we've got to keep you out of jail."
"Byers won't press charges if the cops arrest
Mulder," Langly
said firmly, "and neither will I."
"As long as Doug can't drop the charges,"
Bateman said numbly,
"half the law enforcement officers in the area will be looking for
Mulder. The only reason he hasn't been arrested yet is because
there's
hardly anyone here." She looked at Skinner. "Your doing?"
He nodded. "I thought we could use some
more agents combing the
streets for Taylor -- and Mulder."
The phone on Skinner's desk began to ring
and he snatched it up.
He listened for a minute, frowning then his expression softened
somewhat. He spoke briefly and covered the reciever. "Mrs.
Scully is at
Washington General, telling anyone who will listen that there is no
way
in hell Fox could have shot Doug Shelton and that other man."
The
corners of his mouth almost twitched. "Her words."
Mulder laughed humourlessly. He hoped
Maggie was holding up well.
Skinner said a few more words into the phone
and then hung up,
turning his attention to the rather ragged trio. "Mulder, you're
our
resident expert on Taylor. Where would he go?"
"Someplace isolated or deserted. He
likes to be in control and
he likes to play headgames with people." He remembered all too
well his
own sessions with the man. He was afraid to contemplate what
was
happening to Dana right now. "But he also would still be in the
area.
He likes to keep his fingers in everything -- he probably doesn't trust
his subordinates."
"If he's still in D.C. there's plenty of places
he could be
hiding," Langly said.
Bateman nearly jumped as her cellular started
ringing, fumbling
out the phone and nearly dropping it. She glared at Mulder and
Langly.
"Not a word," she said.
Mulder felt mild relief. She was acting
more like normal, which
was better than her almost robotic behaviour earlier.
"Bateman," she said into the receiver, listening
for a moment,
then gesturing wildly to Mulder. "Yeah, he's here -- where's
Dana?"
Immediately the tension in the room skyrocketed.
Whatever the person on the other end said
was shocking because
her face went even paler, but her tone grew angrier. "Listen,
you sick
s.o.b. I don't care what's going on in that twisted psyche of yours,
except maybe to find out if putting a bullet in your head will unscramble
it -- "
"Bateman!" Skinner said sternly as Mulder
snatched the phone out
of her hand before she got the caller to hang up.
"This is Mulder."
"Mulder, hello! I do believe you missed
your last session," came
a sickenly familar voice. "Such a temper on your Agent Bateman.
And I'd
heard that *you* were such a loose cannon."
Mulder had to remind himself to stop clutching
the phone so hard,
resisting the impulse to crush it. "What do you want, Taylor?"
"I want my life back," snarled the man.
"I've had to hide for
the past year."
"I can't give you your life back," Mulder
responded.
"But I can take yours. Falling for your
partner, Mulder? I
don't think the FBI approves of that."
Mulder went cold. Taylor shouldn't --
couldn't know about that.
Hell, *Mulder* hadn't even been sure until last week. Scully
wouldn't
have told Taylor so it had to be a shot in the dark. "I'm not
following."
"You FBI agents are a thick headed bunch,
aren't you? Let me
illumniate it for you."
Mulder heard a click, sounding terrifyingly
like the cocking of a
gun, but a tape recording started to play. Him and Scully.
On the phone
last week when she'd been dying. The words 'I love you' were
never said
but were clear enough.
Bateman and the others were staring at him
and he tipped the
phone slightly so she could listen, hunching over to make it easier
on
her. She listened for a few seconds, playing keep away with Langly,
who
also wanted to listen. It only took her half a minute to realize
what
was going on. She met his eyes and nodded, stepping away and
taking a
scrap of paper and pen from Skinner's desk, writing quickly and showing
the note to Skinner and Langly. The AD shook his head.
She nodded
furiously, underlining something while Langly started searching.
Taylor turned off the tape. "Still not
sure what I'm talking about?"
Mulder licked dry lips. Taylor knew
and was using his feelings
for Dana against him. Luring him and Bateman to L.A. had
been to get
them out of the way long enough for Taylor to get to her. Trying
to kill
Shelton and the Gunmen would make people believe that he'd lost it
to
grief and snapped, landing him in jail. But the double hadn't
suceeded.
They still had a chance to turn this around.
"Let me talk to Scully," he said finally.
"Oh, of course. I keep forgetting my
manners. But first we need
to discuss terms."
"What sort of terms?"
Taylor laughed. "Stop posturing Mulder.
We both know you'll
give me whatever I want."
"Which is?" He watched Langly tear the
office apart over
Skinner's objections until the older man gave in and helped.
Bateman
stood uneasily beside Mulder, glancing between the three men.
"Originally I wanted you dead but I'm a generous
man. I want you
to turn yourself in to the police."
"And you'll let Scully go?" If that
was all he wanted, Mulder
would do it in an instant.
"I never said *that*," taunted the other man.
"But I'll think
about it."
"Is that it?"
"And I want Agent Bateman."
"What?"
"Mulder -- don't!" shouted another voice,
sounding faint with
distance. "Don't do it!"
"I don't recall asking for your input, Agent
Scully," Taylor said
mildly.
"Dana," Mulder whispered.
********************************
9:46 p.m.
Dana had only been half listening to Taylor's
phone conversation,
focusing instead on trying to fray the ropes. When she heard
her own
voice, however, the phone call gained her full attention.
Taylor was holding a minuture tape deck to
the reciever of a
cellular phone, watching her reaction with delight.
She recognized parts of what were being said
on the tape, but
most of it had been lost in a wash of pain at the time. It was
a
recording of her phone conversation -- lifeline really -- with Mulder
following her disasterous encounter with Saul Eldwin.
Taylor stopped the tape, still watching her.
Levison was
watching both of them from across the room, leaning against the wall,
arms folded across his chest. She listened as Taylor taunted
Mulder.
She wasn't sure how he could have gotten that
tape, but in light
of it, several of his earlier remarks made much more sense. He'd
been
mocking her, flaunting his knowledge without coming out and saying
it.
He had to know what she was thinking now, after his revelation
about the
implant. Had to know her doubts.
Taylor kept talking, walking slowly towards
her. He wanted
Mulder to turn himself in -- presumably for the attack on Byers and
Doug.
She couldn't let him do that. Not for
her, not for anyone.
"And I want Agent Bateman," Taylor finished,
a satisfied smile
crossing his features.
Dana didn't know why he wanted Zoe but she
knew for certain that
giving her over to Taylor would get them both killed.
Quickly she sucked in a deep breath of air.
"Mulder -- don't!
Don't do it!" she called, fighting a stab of pain.
Taylor looked amused. "I don't recall
asking for your input,
Agent Scully." He knelt in front of her. "But since you
insist on
speaking up." He pressed the phone against the bruised side of
her face
but she didn't wince. "Make your case."
She didn't dare take her eyes off him.
"Mulder?"
"God -- Dana! Are you all right?"
His voice held concern,
righteous anger and affection. "Did he hurt you?"
"No -- Mulder, you can't give him what he
wants."
"I'm willing to turn myself in -- Byers won't
press charges
against me."
"But Doug -- "
"Won't either."
"Are they both all right? And Frohike?"
Taylor wasn't objecting
to her questions.
"Byers and Frohike are fine."
"And Doug."
"He's fine."
She knew he was lying, knew that tone of voice.
Doug might still
be alive but in no condition to waive the assault charges. Even
if they
could prove the double existed, Mulder would still be a vulnerable
target
in jail while they sorted it all out.
"You can't give Zoe to him," she replied.
Taylor smiled.
"I don't intend to. Dana, we're going
to get you out of this."
She needed to give him something to work with.
If she could tell
him about Levison without getting herself killed . . . There was a
way --
if he understood.
"I feel like a ghost," she said, willing him
to catch on,
sneaking a quick glance at Levison, hoping he wasn't listening carefully.
Puzzled silence. "Dana?"
Taylor was frowning.
"Someone you can't find," she whispered.
Another silence. "A phantom?"
She nearly smiled. He knew she was trying
to tell him
something. "Yes."
Taylor took the phone back. "Do we have
a deal?" He paused,
listening. "Not good enough, Mulder. I need both terms
met, not just
one . . . well get her to agree. Scully may be telling you not
to but I
can get her to beg you to agree and until she'd happily give me Bateman.
Tell me, Mulder, how hard to you think it would be to reopen the wound
Saul Eldwin left her with?"
Levison had joined them now, hands pressed
against her shoulder,
pressing her back along the wall as she attempted to squirm away from
Taylor, who caught hold of her sweater, lifting it enough to reveal
the
white gauze bandages. He shifted his grip until his two forefingers
were
pressing against the wound.
The pain was immediate and intense, a small
gasp of shock and
pain escaping from her. She hated herself for it, knowing all
too well
that the phone would pick it up.
Levison's grip on her shifted until his one
arm was free and he
pulled Taylor off of her, shaking his head sternly. Taylor glared
at him
then focused his attention to the phone, getting up and walking away.
Dana took a deep breath to steady herself,
looking at Levison in
surprise but he too got up and walked away.
The pain had faded enough for her to start
working on the rope
again, watching carefully to make sure no one noticed what she was
doing.
Back and forth.
**********************************
end part 11
disclaimer in part one
________________________
T h e X - F i l e s
Conspiracy part 12/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
_________________________
**********************************
Hoover Building
9:57 p.m.
Zoe was still standing next to Mulder and he'd
shifted the phone
again so she could listen in.
She was still shaky not exactly sure what
had happened to her.
Evidently whatever Caitlin Brown was, whatever the double was, she
was
the same thing. The figures in the bright light hadn't healed
her --
they had changed her. The intial shock had worn off but knowing
she was
the same as them -- had the same capability to injure people -- like
the
ME in L.A. -- like *Doug* -- was scaring her. But right now,
she didn't
have the luxury of having hysterics. She had to deal with it
and cope
while events took their course.
Listening to Taylor, she repressed a shudder.
"I know what you
are," he'd said when she'd answered the phone. "I know what you
can do."
And now he wanted her, threatening to hurt
Dana to get what he
wanted.
Beside her, Mulder was racked with tension,
holding himself
rigid. They both heard the soft gasp of pain and he started to
tremble.
"Taylor . . . " he growled helplessly.
"All you have to do is say 'yes'," Taylor
said simply.
"Yes," Zoe said quickly, grabbing Mulder's
elbow to stop his
abortive attempt at a protest.
Taylor laughed. "I'll call you back
with more details." The
line went dead as Langly waved frantically from the conference table.
He
was on his knees beside it and pulled a tiny device from under the
table
top. Skinner stared at it in mute shock.
It was a listening device.
"I think," Zoe said, "we should take this
elsewhere."
The other three nodded.
****************************
Langly unlocked the van, listening to the argument
that was brewing.
"Bateman, if Taylor wants you we can't give
you to him," Mulder
was saying.
"What does he want you for anyway?" Skinner
demanded, as they
climbed in.
She shot a look at Mulder. "I don't
know. But it's my decision
to make."
He shook his head in dismay. "He's not
going to let her go if
you turn yourself over to him."
"And putting yourself in jail will help how?"
she snapped.
"All right!" Skinner said sharply.
"That's enough."
Both agents turned to him, wearing nearly
identical looks of concern.
"We need a plan," the AD said calmly.
Mulder sighed. "Scully was trying to
give me a message.
Something about a ghost or a phantom -- "
"*Scully* said this?"
"Yes sir."
Skinner's brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"What could she have
meant by that?"
"There's nothing that you've been working
on that could be linked
with that, Mulder?" Bateman asked leaning forward in her seat.
"No. Not a thing."
As yet, Langly hadn't started the van, waiting
until he knew
where he was going. They were parked out in front of the Hoover
Building, and he now turned in the driver's seat.
"Could it be someone's alias?' he asked matter
of factly.
The three feds turned to him in surprise.
"Langly, I could kiss you," Bateman said with
the beginnings of a
smile. "That's got to be it."
He blushed and turned around again.
"Glad I could help."
"Not an alias, though," Mulder said with some
of his usual
intensity. "More like a code name for someone. We need
to get a rundown
of anyone who's ever used that street name 'Ghost' focussing on those
into the more high profile crimes. I don't think Scully would
have
mentioned it unless it was someone known to us."
"I can get someone to check on that for us,"
Skinner agreed. "In
the meantime, we'll have to wait for Taylor to call back."
"That's not very constructive," Mulder said
under his breath, but
loud enough to be heard anyway.
"Mulder . . . " Bateman warned.
He managed a semi-repentent look. "I'm
just worried, all right?"
Skinner used his cellular to relay his request
to agents with the
computer division. Hanging up he nodded his understanding at
Mulder.
"They say they'll have a list for us within the hour."
Langly peered out into the street and pursed
his lips. He had
noticed that one car out there when they had come out of the building,
a
dark coloured Taurus that was sitting about half a block up.
There was
someone in the driver's seat, but they weren't moving. In fact
that
somoene seemed to have his neck craned back so he could watch *them*.
"Uh, guys," Langly said.
The three were busy discussing strategy.
"*Mulder!*"
"What is it, Langly?"
"I think we're being watched."
*********************************
"Who do you think he is?" Langly asked after
he'd gotten everyone
focussed on the car up ahead of them.
"Probably one of Taylor's lackeys," Mulder
said in a low voice.
"Maybe I should go have a 'chat' with him."
Skinner laid a hand on his agent's shoulder.
"*Not* a good idea."
Zoe bit her bottom lip. "How many men
do you think Taylor has?
We know he's got the double and there were the two apes at the airport.
Think that's it?"
"Maybe. Do you think it's the same guy
who jumped you?" Mulder asked.
"The one who got away." <The one
who must have told Taylor what
I am.> It occurred to her that she might benefit from having
a chat of
her own with the good doctor. "Only one way to find out."
She started
to open the back door of the van only to have Skinner's hand close
on her
collar and yank her backwards onto her rear.
"That wouldn't be wise, Agent Bateman."
The older man was
peering past Langly's shoulder with a predatory look on his face.
"Skinner's right, Bateman. We could
use this guy to lead us to
Taylor."
"Right, Mulder, good plan. How do you
think we should do that?" She
couldn't help it; she got sarcastic and rude under pressure.
"Ask him
for directions?"
Langly risked a quick look over his shoulder
at the others.
"Make up your minds people. Sitting around like this is going
to make
him nervous."
"Start driving," Skinner said. "Stick
to the main roads and in a
lot of traffic. Don't loose him."
Langly tried not to laugh. "Don't worry
about my driving, Skinner."
Mulder swatted the back of his head.
"Assistant Director Skinner," Langly amended,
pulling out into
what was left of traffic.
The other car waited until they were almost
down the block before
tagging along behind them.
"Whan Taylor calls back," Zoe said delicately,
"what are we going
to tell him? Are we going to make him a happy little sociopath?"
"Anything to keep his attention diverted off
of Dana."
Zoe saw Mulder's gaze dart over to Skinner
when he said his
partner's first name. Wouldn't do to have the boss cluing in
one what
was going on between the two of them . . . The older man seemed oblivious
-- or just focussed on more important things right at the moment.
"We'll agree to getting Mulder put in jail,"
the AD said, his
voice falling into authoritarian tones. "I've got a friend who
runs the
18th precinct. He'll listen to what I've got to say and I think
I can
convince him to let Mulder go on my say so. It won't fool Taylor
for
long, but for a little while it will make him believe that we're
acquiescing. Taylor will probably demand to meet with Bateman
while
we're indisposed of -- "
"Let him," she said simply. All she
had to do was inflict severe
bodily damage on herself and Taylor wouldn't be a threat anymore .
. . .
Where were these thoughts coming from?
Her nearly instinctive
grasp of what she could and couldn't do with her abilities was
startling. It was almost as if a river of information was becoming
available to her when she needed it, like it had been holding back,
waiting for her to become aware of it. As if her body had been
waiting
for her to discover what she could do.
She knew she was stronger then normal humans
-- stronger than
anyone had a right to be. She had never demonstrated that knowledge
but
she was sure of it, the ability lying in wait until she needed it.
She
also knew that she would be able to spot a clone or a hybrid like
herslef. The tingling she'd felt at the L.A. morgue when she'd
viewed
Caitlin Brown's body had been the tip off that something wasn't right.
Mulder was peering at her, tyring to tell
what she had in mind
just by looking at her. She tried to smile reassuringly but could
tell
he wasn't buying it.
"You've got to delay him, Bateman," Skinner
was saying. "It'll
take a bit of time for me to get this mess sorted out with the police
and
I need you to stall him as long as you can."
"Yes sir."
"Bateman -- " Mulder rested a hand on
her shoulder. "You have
to be careful."
She knew what he was really saying.
If she got herself injured she would be as
much a danger to Dana
as Taylor or the double could possibly be.
She thought of her partner, lying in the hospital.
He might
die. They all might. She didn't want to add anymore people
to the
injured list, least of all her best friend.
Taylor on the other hand could pass go and
head straight for the
morgue as far as she was concerned.
"I'll be carefull all right . . . "
_______________
end part 12
Disclaimer in part one
_____________________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONSPIRACY 13/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
_____________________________
10:18 p.m.
Taylor glanced at his watch, nodding at Levison,
before reaching
for the cellular and dialing a number.
For his part, Levison shot a look over at
Scully, still trying to
figure out what the hell was wrong with him. So far, some sort
of
impulse inside of him had made him interfere each time Taylor's psychotic
behaviour developed beyond mind games. From the quick, furitve
looks
Scully kept aiming at him, she was as much at a loss to explain his
behaviour as he was.
He certainly hadn't felt that way the first
time they had
enountered each other. In truth he had helped Taylor's men try
and kill
her, and at the time that hadn't bothered him in the least. In
fact,
he'd been *happy* when he'd thought they had succeeded. Now he
thought
back to that and nearly flushed with shame.
The more he thought about it now, the more
important it became
for him to find out precisely what Taylor had done to turn him into
a
duplicate of Fox Mulder. Find out why his aim, which had earned
him
money and respect in underworld circles, had suddenly decided to fail
him at the equivalent of spitting distance. Find out why he wanted
to
see Scully get out of this in one piece, not shipped home in a box.
Taylor was talking into the phone again, taunting
the real
Mulder, making demands that Levison didn't believe he would ever see
met. There was no way that Mulder would agree to hand over that
other
agent -- Bateman. As for Taylor's motives for wanting to get
his hands
on her -- from what Levison could piece together, he wasn't the only
person who could bleed green blood. Maybe if Taylor wouldn't
give him
the answers he wanted, Bateman would.
In fact that held some appeal in it, in effect
killing two birds
with one stone. He could offer to release Scully in exchange
for the
information, bypassing Taylor completely. The man was beginning
to act
more and more like a crackpot, not like someone who should be in charage
of an operation like this. If Levison had had his way, it would
have
been a series of organized hits, not a cat and mouse game that could
be
so easily lost.
But he didn't know if his feelings would have
let him carry out
those hits . . . .
******************************
10:20 p.m.
Mulder felt his muscles tense up as Bateman's
cellular rang. In
the back of the van, the three federal agents exchanged looks as Langly
demanded to know if someone was actually going to answer that as the
phone rang again.
Bateman took a deep breath. "Here we
go." She flipped open the
phone and spoke briefly into it. "Yes. We've already agreed
to your
terms Taylor . . . by all means . . . " She handed the phone
back to
Mulder with barely concealed hatred, looking like she'd much rather
reach
through the communication networks and throttle the man on the other
end.
Or maybe that was just Mulder projecting his
anger.
He took the receiver and put it to his ear.
"Yeah?"
"Thought it over, have you?" Taylor asked
with mock civility.
"Decided to go for my plan after all?"
"What do you want with Bateman?" Mulder countered,
trying not to
let the guy get to him and failing miserably.
"Well, if she hasn't told you, far be it from
me to spoil her
surprise." The laugh in Taylor's voice told Mulder that the one-time
psychiatrist knew precisely what Bateman was -- or rather what she
could do.
No matter how bizarre the turn of circumstances,
Bateman was
still his friend; she wasn't just a thing, or a creature. She
was still
a human being, but one extraordinarily gifted. The irony of the
matter
was, he'd spent all this time and effort chasing for proof of alien
existence and Bateman had been under his nose the whole time.
And she
hadn't known it either . . .
Taylor was still speaking, forcing his attention
back to the
matter at hand. "I want you to turn yourself in now, Mulder.
Go to the
police and let them throw you in a jail cell. You remember cells,
don't
you, Mulder? I know the one at Raven Crest didn't have iron bars,
but I
know it was close enough for you."
Mulder shut his eyes. Damn Taylor and
damn Raven Crest. He had
tried to put that behind him, the month of incarceration against his
will, fearing that perhaps he really was losing his mind. He
couldn't
let Taylor sill hold that over him, he had to move beyond it if they
were
to succeed tonight.
"And after I do that?" he asked instead.
"Well, once I know that you're doing as you've
been told, I'll
want to met Agent Bateman in person. Maybe then Scully will be
able to
visit you in prison."
Mulder nearly had to bit clean through his
lip to keep from
shooting off one of his trademark responses. He couldn't antagonize
Taylor right now. That would have to wait until the man was in
custody
and they'd found Scully.
"Run along, Mulder and tell Bateman I'll be
in touch." Taylor
hung up before he could say anything else.
Handing the phone back to Bateman, he looked
at the others,
meeting Langly's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You said you had
a
friend at the one-eight?" he asked Skinner.
"Yes. He's the captain out there."
"Then I guess that's where we're headed,"
Mulder said simply.
"Taylor didn't say how, but he did say that he'd know if I was doing
what he wanted. He must either have someone working for him in
the
police or have someone in a postion that would let them be appraised
of
my arrest." Mulder could think of a certain cigarette smoker
who would
fit that bill.
"Or," Bateman said pointedly, "it could be
that our tail is
reporting back to Taylor." She nodded at the rearview mirror.
"I guess that means you don't want me to lose
him then," Langly
said, angling the van in the direction of the eighteenth precinct.
They
were almost there, having been heading in its general direction.
"Not yet, Langly," Skinner replied, a thoughtful
look on his
face. "Was this man following you to the Hoover Building?" he
asked
suddenly.
Mulder had to think about that one but Langly
didn't.
"Not a chance," the blond man said firmly.
"I don't know, Langly," Bateman said softly.
"We weren't exactly
looking for a tail -- "
"*You* weren't, Bateman," he countered with
a ghost of a smile,
"but I *was*. I always am."
"So if he wasn't following us," Mulder said,
breaking into the
might be argument, "that means he was trailing you, sir."
"The double did say that Skinner would be
taken care of," Langly
reminded them.
"Great," Bateman said under her breath.
"Now what."
Mulder tried to look encouraged as they pulled
up in front of the
station house. "You two wait for Taylor's call. And *stall*
him." He
wagged a finger at Bateman who offered a slight smile in return.
"Whatever you say, Agent Mulder," she replied.
The look in her eyes told him that she just
might not be there
when he and Skinner got this straightened out with the police.
Part of
him wished that she would be but part of him also hoped that she would
accomplish *something*.
Following Skinner from the van, Mulder restrained
himself from
waving at their tail as the man pulled up about half a block away.
Skinner must have caught something in his expression because he too
turned to look at the other vehicle, muttering something under his
breath.
The two of them disappeared inside the station
house.
_________________________
end part thirteen
Disclaimer in part one
_____________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONSPIRACY 14/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
_____________________
Zoe watched Mulder and Skinner vanish from
sight before climbing
into the front seat next to Langly.
"What are you doing, Bateman?" he asked calmly.
"You've still got Doug's cellular, right?"
"Yes . . . "
"Well, I'm using it to call the hospital."
Digging it out of the
glove compartment, she waited impatiently for someone to pick up on
the
other end. "Yes, hello, this is Agent Bateman with the FBI.
Someone
brought in my partner, Agent Shelton, a while ago. How's he doing?"
The voice on the other end was harried and
on the verge of
impolite. "I can't give information like that out over the phone
without
confirming who you are, miss."
Zoe bit back a growl. "Is there anyone
there I could talk to?"
"Hold on a moment please."
Canned music drifted over the phone line.
Langly was watching the other vehicle in the
rearview mirror.
"Hey, Bateman, he's leaving."
"What? Oh hell . . . "
"You want me to follow him?" The Lone
Gunman looked more than
happy to oblige.
"Would he spot you?"
He shot her a look.
"Right. I guess he wouldn't . . . go
for it, Langly."
Someone came back on the line. "Bateman?
This is Agent
Carlmicheals. Skinner sent me down to keep on eye on things."
"How's Doug?"
"Nothing's changed so far. He's still
in a coma and the docs are
being closed mouthed about it. Something about them not knowing
exactly
what's wrong with him."
Zoe shut her eyes for a moment.
"Where are you anyway?" Calrmicheals'
voice had taken on a note
of suspicion. "You're not with Mulder are you, because we're
looking for
him."
"Mulder didn't shoot Doug, Carlmicheals."
"How can you be so sure, Bateman? The
man chases aliens and
ghosts for a living while the rest of us do the hard work. He's
nuts."
"Oh, grow the hell up," she snapped into the
phone. "He does his
job, the same as you and me."
Carlmicheals backed down a little. "I'm
not trying to offend
you, Bateman, but we need to find Mulder."
"No, we need to find Scully and find out what
happened to my
partner. How are the other two men that were brought in?"
"You mean John Doe number one and John Doe
number two? They've
given us about a dozen different names and not one of them leads to
anything."
"May I remind you that they are the victims,
not the suspects?"
she said angrily.
"As far as I know one of them might have been
the guy who shot
your partner, Bateman."
"I thought you believed Mulder did it.
Make up your mind,
Carlmicheals, and while you do let me talk to one of those men."
She was
losing her patience.
Langly, meanwhile, was trailing the other
car at a sedate
distance, glancing over at his passenger every once in a while.
He gave
her a sympathetic look and drove on.
Carlmicheals grumbled a fair bit, but finally
put someone else on
the line.
"Bateman?"
"Frohike! Are you all right?"
"Been better," admitted the rather tired sounding
voice. "Where
are you? Byers said something about Mulder's double being after
you and
Skinner."
"I'm with Langly. We just dropped Mulder
and Skinner off at a
police station -- don't tell Carlmicheals."
"Why would I?"
She grinned a tiny bit. "I have absolutely
no idea. Listen, you
said that Taylor shot you, right?"
He made an affirming noise.
"Did he say *anything* that might be a clue
where he went?"
"He didn't say anything before he opened fire.
I can't really
remember after that -- hang on, Byers wants to say something."
She heard Carlmicheals again, complaining
that he was pulling
baby-sitting duty on a bunch of lowlifes. She made a mental note
to have
a few words with him whenever she got the chance.
"Agent Bateman," said a familiar voice.
"Glad to hear you're still with us, Byers,"
she said, her spirits
lifting a little. Byers and Frohike were still alive so there
had to be
some hope that this would turn out all right after all.
"Before he left, our unexpected visitor did
say something to
Agent Shelton that might be useful."
"Such as?"
"'I've come a long way since cement overcoats'."
"That's it?"
"I'm afraid so. I don't know if that
will help."
"It might. You take it easy and don't
let Carlmicheals pester you."
"We don't intend to. How is Agent Shelton?
The staff here won't
tell us much."
"He's in a coma. He shouldn't have shot
that guy. Are you all
right?"
"I was too far away from him. He seems
to be able to control it
to some extent. The wound healed faily quickly -- much more so
than I am
able to. Any word on Agent Scully?"
"Sort of. Taylor wants to make a trade.
Me for Scully if Mulder
agrees to plead guilty to attempted murder."
"You?"
"I don't understand it myself, but Mulder's
already gone to turn
himself in."
"But I won't press charges."
"That's what Langly said, but Doug's a federal
agent and he can't
*dismiss* the charges right now. They're going to prosecute to
the
fullest extent of the law if we can't prove he's innocent."
Byers exhaled sharply. "This is turning into
a huge mess."
"Isn't it though? Look, I've got to
go." Out of the corner of
her eye she saw Langly gesturing frantically to the phone. "Langly
says
hi. We'll try to stop by later if we're still alive."
"Good luck."
"'Bye."
Langly stared at her after she hung up.
"Bateman -- "
She smiled at him. "They're both fine
and are being looked after
by one of our agents."
"The jerk you were arguing with?"
"The jerk with the gun and badge that I was
arguing with," she
corrected grimly. "That makes a difference."
***********************************
18th Precinct
10:41 p.m.
Captain Joseph Bryant looked at Walter Skinner
in disbelief. "If
he didn't do it, Walt, why is he turning himself in?"
Skinner inhaled sharply. He had already
tried to explain but
listening to himself speak he could understand why Bryant was having
so
much difficulty with it. Crazed psychiatrists, diablolical doubles
running around trying to kill federal agents and break one man's will.
If they ever got out fo this mess alive and with proof, they would
all be
able to retire from the movie royalties alone.
"He's turnig himself in because the persons
who really shot my
agent have his partner and will kill her if he doesn't."
Mulder was in a seat next to him, but Skinner
had fimly told him
to keep his mouth shut and let him do the talking. He could read
the
younger man like a book occasionally and right now was one of those
times. Mulder couldn't stop squirming in his seat and his eyes
kept
drifting to the clock above the captain's desk. Privately Skinner
agreed
with his silent assessment. This was taking too long.
"Even if that's true," Bryant continued, "I've
got a witness who
says she saw Agent Mulder leaving the scene of the crime."
"It wasn't me," Mulder broke in before Skinner
could stop him.
"Then who was it? Why won't you give
me something more to work
with. Exact doubles of federal agents? If this wasn't so
serious,
Walter, I'd suspect on early April Fool's joke somewhere in this mess."
"Joe, I need you to get the paperwork on Mulder's
arrest into the
system. Whoever has his partner is well placed enough to have
access to
it there." Skinner wasn't going to waste anymore time on explanations.
"Once they see it, we'll have some breathing room."
His cellular rang and he cursed, digging it
out of his pocket to
answer while Bryant turned his full attention back to Mulder.
"Skinner."
"Sir, this is Agent Pendrell. I've got
the information you
wanted from our computers."
He frowned. "Pendrell, you don't work
computer research, you
work computer analysis."
The younger agent sounded flustered.
"I know, sir, but I told
Agent Kilnard that I would do it. I wanted to help, sir."
Skinner sighed. He didn't have time
to deal with an agent's
infatuation. "I see. What do you have for me?"
"I found two listings of the street name 'Ghost'.
One for a
Brian Winters, a serial rapist who was just released from Attica three
months ago and one for Peter Levison, a suspected hitman from the eastern
drug cartels and from some of our local organizedd crime nests.
He
vanished from our sights over a year ago."
"Thank you, Pendrell." He listened for
a couple more minutes
then hung up. Which one was Scully talking about and which one
made any
sort of sense?
Bryant turned back to him. "Well?"
Skinner felt Mulder's expectant gaze on him
as well. "We've got
two names. Mulder, do the names Brian Winters or Peter Levison
mean
anything to you?'
He could see the younger man rack his brain
for a conection but
could tell from the hopeless look in his eyes that he was coming up
blank.
"They're what our computers came up with from
the ghost reference."
"I don't know, sir."
Bryant was watching him closely. "I'll
be damned, Walt, you're
really serious about all this aren't you? There really is a double
of
Agent Mulder here running around loose."
"Unfortunately."
"I'll be damned," the captain repeated.
"And all you want me to
do is put his name in the system?"
"Yes."
"I could lose my badge over this -- "
"My partner could lose her life over this,"
Mulder said hotly.
With a shigh, Bryant reached for the paperwork.
"Walt, you're
going to owe me big for this one . . . "
********************************
Location Unknown
11:03 p.m.
Dana looked up as Tyalor let out a triumphant
laugh.
For the past half an hour he had been staring
at his cellular
phone as though willing it to ring.
And it finally had.
"Yes, sir. Right away." He was
nodding hard enough to make her
neck ache with reluctant sympathy but he didn't seem to care.
When he
finally hung up, he gave her a positively evil look. "I thought
you
might want to know. Mulder's in jail."
Levison moved from his position against the
far wall. "That's it
then. Our part is over."
"Not quite." Taylor opened his phone
up again, dialing another
number while Dana caught Levison giving her a look she couldn't read.
"Agent Bateman . . . I think we need to get
together," Taylor
said into the phone as someone picked up the other end.
******************************
11:05 p.m.
Zoe didn't even blink when her cellular rang.
She snatched it up
and pressed it to her ear.
"What now, you bastard," she snarled into
it with such anger that,
beside her, Langly did a double take.
Taylor didn't seem bothered in the least.
"Agent Bateman . . .
I think we need to get together."
"Really?"
"I trust you can find 4356 River Street in
half an hour?"
"Is that where you are?"
"Someone will meet you there," he continued,
ignoring her
question. "Come alone."
"Let me talk to Dana."
"In half an hour."
He hung up.
She threw the phone onto the dashboard and
started swearing. She
started in Engligh and had worked her way through French, Spanish,
German, Russian and a sprinkling of Japanese before she was done.
There
was something to be said for being raised abroad.
Langly just looked at her calmly.
"Feel better?"
"Hell no!"
"Where are we going?"
She checked the clip on her gun. "*I*
am going to 4356 River
Street. *You* are going back to the precinct to wait for Mulder
and
Skinner."
"Bateman -- "
"Don't aruge with me, Langly. You're
not an agent and I won't
have getting you killed on my conscience."
He gave her a dirty look. "I can take
care of myself. I've
still got Shelton's gun."
"I don't care. Look, someone's got to
tell them where I went and
Taylor told me to come alone. Dana might get killed if he sees
you with me."
"Don't you feds have rules about not giving
in to terrorists?"
The look she gave him shut him up.
"Let me out about three blocks from there
and then go back."
"What about him?" Langly asked, indicating
the car they had been
following.
"Leave him. At best he's a loose end."
******************************
11:09 p.m.
In the other car, the second thug from the
airport watched in the
rearview mirror as the Lone Gunmen's van peeled away from him, down
a
side street.
He'd known that he had been followed from
the moment he left the
police station, but Taylor had told him to lead his tail on a nice,
leisurely drive around the city.
He called Taylor as he swung back to follow
the van, the evening
turning into one long game of tag.
"They're heading your way," he said into the
phone. "Want me to
keep following them?"
"Wait until you see them reach us. If
Bateman still has Langly
with her, kill him. If he turns back, follow him."
"Right."
*****************************
18th Precinct
11:11 p.m.
Mulder followed Skinner down the steps of
the station house
before stopping at the bottom of the stairs.
There was no sign of the van and somehow he
wasn't too surprised.
Skinner cursed under his breath and drew out
his cellular,
dialing a number and gesturing Mulder closer so that he could hear
what
was being said.
"Look you miserable s.o.b. I told you that
I'd be there and I
will," came Bateman's irate voice.
"Agent Bateman, may I remind you that I am
your superior?"
Skinner said in a tone that would have made Mulder smile under any
other
circumstance.
"Sir! Sorry, sir. Taylor called
me and asked me to meet him in
-- " a pause " -- just over twenty minutes. I'm going to send
Langly
back to get you."
"Where are you headed?"
"He told me to come alone, sir."
"Bateman," Mulder broke in, "where the hell
are you going?"
"Mulder! Jail treating you well?"
"Bateman!"
She sighed. "River Street. Forty-three
hundred block."
"There's nothing out there but abandoned buildings
and warehouses."
"Makes it a good place to hide, sir," she
said. "Listen, I don't
think he was kidding about the come alone bit -- "
"I can have over a dozen agents there and
he'd never know it."
"No offense, sir, but I don't want to risk
lives on that
assumption. It's me he wants. I'll get him to let Dana
go and then you
can bring in all the cavalry you want."
"Bateman," Skinner began, but it was too late,
she'd already hung up.
Mulder started looking around for the nearest
taxi cab.
*****************************
4356 River Street
11:31 p.m.
Levison waited outside, hands tucked in the
pockets of his
tenchcoat, breath misting in the night air. Taylor had asked
him to meet
Bateman when she arrived, make sure she was unarmed and escort her
in.
Personally, Levison thought this was an excercise
in stupidity.
If Taylor wanted this agent so bad, fine, they could have worked
something out. He sure as hell shouldn't have told her to come
straight
to their hideout.
In some weird way, he was looking forward
to meeting this woman.
Maybe she had more answers than he did about the bond that linked them
both. If nothing else, it would certainly liven things up a bit
more.
Someone was approaching from down the street,
footsteps echoing
slightly on the pavement. The area was nearly deserted, no one
about.
Just the way Levison and Taylor wanted it.
As the figure came to a halt about fifty feet
away, Levison
became aware of a faint tingling at the edges of his perception.
It was
an odd sensation, as if someone had stuck his finger in an electrical
socket and then overloaded the systerm.
"So, you're the bastard that shot my partner,"
growled the figure.
"Agent Bateman, I presume." His posture
straightened and he felt
in his pocket for his gun.
-----------------
end part forteen
disclaimer in part one
______________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONPSIRACY 15/?
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
_______________________
11:32 p.m.
They hadn't been able to find a taxi cab soon
enough to satisfy
either of them.
Skinner had taken matters into his own hands,
invoking federal
authority and commandeering a black and white unit, sending it screaming
off into the night, sirens wailing, leaving two white faced cops standing
on the curb, staring after their rapidly receding car. He had
called for
FBI back up using the dispatcher as a messenger, sending the strong
admonishment that no one was to enter River Street until they arrived.
It was only then that they realized Bateman had neglected to give them
the exact address on 4300 block.
Mulder braced himself by clutching the dashboard
for dear life,
praying that they reached River Street in time to save Bateman from
doing
something stupid and in time to find Dana. He vowed to himself
that if
they did, he would never, *ever* run off on a case without her again.
Ever.
They weren't going to make it in their twenty
minute deadline --
they weren't even going to come close.
Skinner didn't say much, he clung to the wheel
as if he could
will the car to go faster.
They both did.
Suddenly, a dark van came screaming around
a corner that they
were about to take and Skinner had to twist the wheel around to avoid
a
collision.
"That's the Gunmen's van!" Mulder said as
soon as he got his
breath back.
The larger vehicle had come to a stop with
its front end up on
the curb and its driver sticking his head out the window.
"Langly!" Skinner yelled, rolling down his
window.
"Skinner! *Mulder*!" The skinny
Gunman all but jumped out of
the van and scampered around to the squad car. "Am I ever glad
to see
the two of you!"
Mulder got out of the car to open the back
door. "Get in. You
can fill us in en route."
Langly needed no more encouraging, throwing
himself inside the
car. Mulder barely had enough time to get in himself before Skinner
started the engine again.
"So Skinner talked you out of jail, huh?"
Lanlgy asked snidely,
fumbling around for a seatbelt that he couldn't find.
"Address, Langly, did Bateman give you an
address?" Mulder
growled through gritted teeth. "And what the hell happened to
the guy
who was tailing us?"
"We turned the tables on him before Taylor
called -- lost sight
of him when I went to drop Bateman off like she asked." A wry
smile.
"Demanded actually."
"Where?" Skinner snapped, manhandling the
car thorugh another
dangerous turn.
"4356 River Street. I dropped her off
about two blocks from there."
Mulder turned to give him an incredulous look.
"Oh right, I'd like to see you win an argument
with her," Langly
said defensively, nerously playing with the rims of his glasses.
Skinner changed tactics. "We had a hit
on the ghost reference.
Two hits actually. One's Brian Winters, serial rapist, just released
from jail, the other's Peter Levison, hit man for organized crime,
vanished last year."
"Whoa, wait up a minute. Organized crime
-- like the mob?"
"Yeah." Mulder turned to look at him
again. "That mean
something to you?"
"Bateman -- she called the hospital and talked
to Byers and
Frohike -- and some FBI drone with an attitude problem -- "
"Carlmicheals." Skinner made it a growl
not a name.
"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, before your
better half shot Shelton he
said something that Byers heard."
"Like?" Mulder was going to have to
hurt him if the Gunman
didn't come to a point soon.
"Something about giving up cement overcoats
for this."
"Cement overcoats? That's dated."
"Yeah, but what's it dated *too*?"
Skinner and Mulder exchanged desperate glances.
Organized crime.
Peter Levison, somehow, some way was their
man.
A trained hitman with both Scully and Bateman
in his sights.
A man genetically altered to be a living weapon
-- like Bateman
but without her moral standards.
Mulder wanted to be sick.
Skinner accelerated down the city street.
*******************************
4356 River Street
11:33 p.m.
Zoe saw the double's hand moving towards his
coat pocket.
Her gun had been drawn before she even approached
this desolate
warehouse on the edge of the street, hidden down at her side.
She brought it up and into position so fast
her arm ached with
the motion.
"Don't even *think* about it, you son of a
bitch," she snarled,
finger tightening on the trigger.
The double looked surprised then relaxed,
hands falling to his
sides. "This is pointless, don't you think Bateman? We
both know we
can't hurt each other this way."
"Didn't seem to stop you from going for your
weapon just now, did
it?"
He smiled, the expression somehow twisted
on the familiar
features. "Old habits die hard."
"Who the hell are you anyway?"
"That's not important. What is, is that
my boss wants to see
you."
"Taylor?" She snorted. "Give it
up. He's not anyone's boss and
you know it."
She could see that that surprised him.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think asking for me was part of the
original game plan.
No one knew about me until today -- including myself. This has
been in
the works for a long time. Taylor's changing the plan for his
own
purposes, isn't he?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Caitlin Brown."
He flinched.
"Yeah, thought you might know about her.
How long has she been
in the works? A month? Two? Since you two disappeared
last year?" She
was getting angrier, couldn't control the rage the coursed through
her.
She wanted to pull that trigger so badly that the very idea made a
wanton
pleasure race through her. Only the thought that this might not
be the
true her reacting, kept her from squeezing it. "How long have
you two
been setting Mulder and Scully up?"
The double raised his hands. "You'd
have to ask Taylor. I'm
just the hired help."
"You sure as hell didn't come looking like
Mulder and walking
around with enough chemicals in you to warrant a surgeon general's
warning label."
He shook his head. "I don't know what
he did. I was hoping you
could tell me."
"Oh, *really*?"
Goddamnit. He was giving her that same
puppy dog expression
Mulder used on Dana from time to time. She'd seen her friend
give in
under that look and had to fight against the urge to do the same.
"Listen, Bateman, you want Scully, right?"
"You need to *ask* that?" Her arm was
getting tired. She
lowered it just a little. Shooting him wasn't going to help anyway.
"I want her out of here."
"You *what*?!"
"I -- I don't want her dead."
"Christ! Where was this sentiment when
you had her shot and
dumped in the Potomac last year?"
He looked shamefaced. "I don't understand
what's happening to
me." Their eyes locked. "Can you look at me and tell me
you understand
what's happened to you?"
"I -- no," she admitted, dropping her arm
further.
"At least you're mostly still yourself.
Part of me is Mulder and
I'm afraid that that part is taking over more and more of my soul."
Great. This guy went around killing
people and feared for his soul.
Suddenly parts of the night's event made sense.
Mulder's DNA had
to be inside of the double and Mulder would never hurt his friends
and
would *never* hurt Dana. That explained the non-fatal shootings
at the
Gunmen's offices. Doug's injury was more due to the toxic chemicals
than
the bullet wound. Maybe this guy had inherited Mulder's not so
great
aim. It sure explained why he didn't want Dana to get hurt now.
"Let me see Dana," Zoe said softly.
"Maybe then we can get some
answers from Taylor."
The double nodded, reaching out his hand.
"Taylor doesn't wnat
you to be armed."
She hesitated. This was getting them
no where right now. She
didn't need a gun to take care of Taylor.
He took the weapon from her and motioned her
inside.
*************************************
11:42 p.m.
The good news was that she'd almost worked
her way through the
ropes on her arms.
The bad news was that her right arm and stomach
hurt more than
ever from the constant tension and tiny, controled motions she'd been
making. And the ropes on her ankles were going to take a little
bit of
work to get off. Tyalor would have to look the other way for
a long time
for her to get completely loose.
Zoe was going to be here any second, and Dana
didn't intend to be
used against her friend.
There came the sound of an opening door and
Taylor threw her a
nasty little look, moving further away to stand by the far end of the
room that seemed to lead a hall. She could hear two sets of footsteps.
Taylor's phone started to ring.
**********************************
11:43
Driving his car back after the police car,
the second thug was
shaking his head in disbelief. Seems the feds had a problem with
the
words 'come alone.'
Pulling out his cellualr, he punched in Taylor's
number and
relayed the bad news.
"What?!" the man nearly screamed in his ear.
"Are they mad?"
"I don't know. Do you want me to try
and stop 'em?"
There was a pause. "No. They've
brought this on themselves. I
want you to got to Washington General and I want you to kill *everyone*
connected to this. Do you understand? Byers, Frohike and
Shelton, plus
anyone else who's stupid enough to get in your way."
He didn't like this. Walking into a
hospital to kill someone
quietly was one thing, but Taylor sounded like he expected some
fireworks. "I understand, sir, but I'll handle this my way, all
right?
If I get caught, it won't exactly make our boss happy." He'd
already had
to kill his partner to keep the man from being caught and dragged to
jail. He didn't want to end up the same way.
"Just do it," Taylor snarled and hung up.
Risking an illegal turn, the man headed deeper
into the heart of
the city, car arrowing through the night to its target.
*******************************************
11:44 p.m.
Zoe followed the double into the warehouse,
every sense stretched
to its utmost. His motivation were becoming more and more wrapped
in
mystery and she was no longer convinced that she was entirely outnumbered
in this situation. She hoped that Langly had made it back to
Mulder and
Skinner by now.
Taylor was waiting for them, speaking heatedly
into a cellular
phone, his face a mask of anger.
When he saw her, he snarled one last remark
into the phone and
then threw it down, pointing a shaking finger at her.
"You bitch!" he yelled. "You were supposed
to come alone!"
"She did," the double interrupted.
"Like hell she did. Langly's on his
way here now with Skinner
and *Mulder*!"
Across the room someone began to laugh weakly,
causing Taylor to
whirl around, temper flaring wildly out of control.
"Losing control, Taylor?" Dana asked archly,
glaring at him from
her position near the far wall. Zoe nearly fell down with relief
when
she saw that her friend was still alive. "I guess your perfect
plan
isn't working so well after all."
"Watch it, Scully," Zoe heard the double whisper
nearly under his
breath. She agreed with the sentiment -- Taylor was acting like
a man
about to blow apart under the strain of his own dementia.
The ex-psychiatrist's face contorted with
anger and his hand went
under his suit coat for a minute.
And came back out with a gun.
It was around that point that Zoe decided
she had made a bad move
in giving up her weapon outisde the warehouse.
"You've blown it, Bateman," Taylor snapped.
"I could have shown
you things beyond your wildest imaginings"
"I rather doubt that."
Beside her, the double smiled faintly, still
unsure of himself.
"Instead you've killed everyone." The
gun swung around to her.
"Don't be stupid, Taylor," the double said,
moving to block his
shot. "You don't want to do that."
"Just remember, Bateman, when you're attending
the funeral for
your partner that it's your fault." Taylor swung his gun hand
around
again, this time aiming for Dana.
From down the corridor came the sound of a
door banging open and
running footsteps.
Zoe tensed to jump Taylor from behind, but
the double made his
move first.
**************************************
11:45 p.m.
Mulder was out of the car before Skinner had
brought it to a full
and complete stop, almost losing his footing as his shoes slid on the
pavement, catching himself against the car frame, straightening and
dashing for the door to the warehouse, ignoring the shouts that came
from
behind him.
Skinner watched him go with a fierce wave
of anger building
inside of him. Mulder wasn't even the target of his wrath this
time
around. As he started to get out of the car, he realized that
Langly was
stuck in the backseat -- squad cars weren't meant to be easily abandoned
by those trapped in the back of them.
"Hey!" the long haired man bellowed, pounding
on the window.
"Skinner."
Sighing, the assistant director back tracked
long enough to opent
he back door of the squad car.
By the time they got themselves sorted out,
Mulder was already
inside.
And then they heard the gunshot.
****************************************
end part fifteen
From larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Fri Sep 13 14:52:04 1996
Path:
news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!newsfe
ed.internetmci.com!info.ucla.edu!unixg.ubc.ca!larchiba
From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: REP:CONSPIRACY 16/18
Date: 13 Sep 1996 19:52:04 GMT
Organization: University of British Columbia, Vancouver, B.C., Canada
Lines: 302
Message-ID: <51ce14$7cq@nntp.ucs.ubc.ca>
NNTP-Posting-Host: netinfo.ubc.ca
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL2]
disclaimer: Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 Productions.
No
permission given, no infringement intended and I fall on the mercy
of the
courts. Story, Bateman, Shelton, Taylor and Levison belong to
the author.
__________________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONSPIRACY
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
__________________________
Levison couldn't account for the strange feelings
that were
coursing through him, but he didn't agrue with them. Instead
he went
with the flow.
As Taylor's finger squeezed the trigger, he
flung himself at the
man, knocking him down and to the left, the bullet coming out of the
gun
and striking the wall above Scully's head at a strange angle, ricocheting
to hit another side wall as both men landed in a tangled heap on the
floor.
Bateman edged her way around the pair to get
to her friend and
Levison lost sight of them as Taylor flung a desperate elbow into his
face.
"You've signed your death warrant, Levison!"
the man shrieked.
"Shut up, Taylor!" he snapped.
"Dana! Bateman!" Another voice,
nearly identical to his own,
heralded the arrival of another player.
Levison snapped his head halfway around to
see Mulder come into
the room at speeds approaching Mach One, grabbing the door frame to
slow
his forward progress.
Beneath the hit man, Taylor moved.
Levison barely heard Scully's warning cry.
"Levison! Look out!"
And then something sharp and deadly was in
Tayor's hand, a hand
that was coming up from around his side to slam into the base of his
skull.
As the world faded away, Peter Levison realized
that he had
given in to the right impulses for once in his life.
And the world went black.
*****************************
Dana lost sight of Levison and Taylor as Zoe
arrived at her side
in a flurry of activity.
"Dana, Christ, are you all right?" demanded
the other woman,
fumbling for the ropes behind her.
"Fine," she replied distractedly, bringing
her hands forward on
her own, feeling the ache of muscles forced into awkward positions
for
far too long.
"Been busy, I see," Zoe commented, switching
to the ropes on her
legs.
"I had some time to kill."
Mulder came tearing into the room, calling
out their names.
Zoe offered him an insolent wave. "See,
G-Man, no major disasters."
Dana saw Taylor reaching into the inside pocket
of his jacket as
Levison shifted to shoot a glance over at Mulder. The ex-doctor's
hand
came out with a weapon of some sort, long and rounded, with a blade
that
extended with a fainst whooshing of air.
"Levison!" she yelled. "Look out!"
Too late.
Taylor suceeded in slamming the weapon down
into Levison's skull
and the other man collapsed on top of him bonelessly, green fumes
beginning to leak from the back of his head.
Dana felt her eyes misting over as Levison
died and told herself
ruthlessly that it was just the fumes.
But deep inside she knew it wasn't.
Mulder backpedaled. "Bateman!"
"I know, I know." Zoe got the last of
the ropes undone with a
quick yanking motion that seemed to work out the last knot. "C'mon,
Dana, we've got to get out of here."
The fumes were beginning to spread and Dana
brought her good hand
up over her nose and mouth as Zoe drew her to her feet.
It hurt to move like that, but staying was
not an option.
Mulder risked coming halfway around the body
to grab Dana by her
good arm as the two women made their way around.
Just as he caught hold of her, Taylor emerged
from under
Levison's body to slam into Zoe, knocking her back and away from the
others.
"Zoe!" Dana yelled, regretting it instantly
as the fumes filled
her lungs.
"Dana, we've got to go!" Mulder said insistently,
dragging her
out of the room, forcing her to move.
"But Zoe will die in there!"
Mulder shook his head. "Trust me, Scully."
And then they were out the door of the room
that was filling
rapidly with green fumes.
Deadly green fumes.
*********************************
"This isn't over yet," Taylor snarled in her
ear.
Beneath his weight, Zoe could barely see Mulder
and Dana leaving
the room, but she silently cheered Mulder. They couldn't stay
in here
any longer.
But she had no such problmes.
"You in that big a hurry to die, Taylor?"
she demanded, trying to
dislodge him.
Except he wasn't coughing or choking on the
green tinged air.
But she hadn't reacted to him the way she
had to the double of
Mulder. There was no way he coud be another hybrid.
"What the hell are you?" she gasped, shoving
him off, coming to
her feet, taking a deep breath of the tainted air.
He was on his feet as well, the odd looking
stiletto in his
hand. "Oh, I'm not half the 'man' you are, Agent Bateman,
but I thought
it would be rather inopportune to fall prey to my own creations, don't
you agree? It is possible to become immune to the effects of
the toxin,
but you have to work at it for quite some time. Let's just say
you took
the easy route."
So she was still stronger than he was.
That was a plus in her book.
Only he still had that weapn and he acted
like he knew how to use
it.
********************************
Langly was right behid Skinner as they made
for the door to the
warehouse, Shelton's gun tucked into the small of his back as the older
man brandished his out in front of him.
They almost ran into Mulder, who was coming
out with a rrather
ragged looking Scully in tow.
Both of them ended up collapsing to their
knees, coughing as if
they'd been caught in a fire, Scully' scoughs mixed with pained wheezing.
Skinner knelt between them, looking from one
to the other before
seizing on Mulder as the most likely to have answers.
"Where's Bateman?"
"In -- inside with Taylor." Mulder reached
out and grabbed hold
of Skinner's arm before his boss could go charging in. "Leviosn's
dead.
We need a HazMat team to get in there."
Scully nodded her agreement, raising her head
and Langly hid a
gasp. She looked terrible, eyes the same shade of red usually
seen on
bad photographs. "Levison's blood -- it's toxic."
"Bateman -- it'll kill her." Skinner
looked appalled.
Mulder shook his head. "I think there
might be another way out.
Fire codes usually ensure that. Maybe -- "
Skinner didn't need eny further encouragement.
He turned on
Lanlgy. "Get that police dispatcher on the line and tell her
to get my
people to move in." With that he sprinted around the side of
the building
like man half his age.
Langly ran back to the squad car, not seeing
Mulder reach out and
grasp Scully by the shoulders before pulling her into a heartfelt embrace.
And neither men saw the uncertain look that
crossed her features.
***********************************
Zoe skipped backwards as Taylor swung the blade at her, lunging
full out
to the left and coming up with the gun that had been dropped in the
earlier fight between him and Levison.
"Back off, Taylor," she snapped, raising it
and aiming.
He sneered. "Did I mention that these
fumes don't react well to
a spark from a gun."
"Liar."
He came at her again.
She pulled the trigger.
And plunged them both into hell.
*****************************
Skinner was at the back door to the warehouse
when the whole
thing went up in flames.
The force of the explosion knocked him over
backwards, straight
into the Potomac, where he went under the water.
It took him a minute to come up for air.
When he did, part of
the river's surface was ablaze with debris and he could see a figure
staggering around in the midst of all the flames, before toppling into
the river several feet away from him. He swam out to the spot,
but there
was no sign of whoever it had been.
*******************************
Mulder flung himself flat as the building exploded
behind him,
shielding Dana and praying the Langly was safely in the car.
The heat of the flames was a strong presence
behind him and he
had to fight no to seize up with fear. He'd always hated fire,
but there
wasn't time to indulge in that fear now.
Chunks of the building were showering down
on them and he tried
not to cry out when something hit him in the back, driving him closer
to
the ground. Beneath him, Dana gave a cry of protest that ended
as
quickly as it began.
As the initial rush of heat and flame began
to fade a bit, other
agents began arriving to pull the two away from the building, still
others starting a hasty search for Skinner.
In the dubious shelter of the far side of
the squad car, Mulder
checked that Langly was all right before coming to kneel in front of
his
partner.
There were tears in her eyes.
"Zoe -- ?"
"Nothing yet," he said, wondering at the truth
himself. How much
protection was being half alien when a buildig exploded with you still
inside?
She wiped her eyes with her good hand, cradling
the right against
her stomach.
"You all right?" There was so much more
he wanted to say.
She nodded then shook her head.
Sirens were wailing in the distance.
********************************
They found Skinner just as the ambulance was
set to take Scully
to Washington General.
"Mulder!" The AD was soaking wet, but
no less the dignififed man
that had been such a mainstay in the Bureau for so many years.
"Are you
and Scully all right?"
Mulder turned away from the ambulance
and Scully, who was busy
refusing to be taken anywhere until they found out what had happened
to
Bateman.
"Just a little bruised, sir. You?"
"Add in wet and that's close enough."
Scully climbed out of the ambulance, her face
set in a determined look.
"Scully -- " Mulder sighed, exasperated, but
loving it.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly.
"Agent Scully," Skinner said in a calm voice,
"you *are* going to
that hospital if I have to take two agents off this detail to escort
you,
is that understood? And I don't think you want to be wasting
anyone's
attention right now."
"Dana," Mulder said in a quiet tone.
"Please? I'll stay here
and let you know if we find her. Please go to the hospital."
He dropped
his voice even lower. "I need to know that you're all right."
A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips.
"I thought you needed to
know the truth."
He shrugged, a slight smile of his own emerging.
"Close enough
right now."
****************************
About a mile down the river, a figure was pulling
itself out of
the water to lay on a dirt coated bank, looking up at the sky and taking
deep breaths.
Zoe Bateman opened her eyes with no recollection
of how she'd
gotten there after the warehouse had exploded and no idea how Taylor's
little toy had gotten wrapped in her hand, but it was there, as real
as
the pain that coursed through her from the superficial burns that covered
her face and hands. All other damage, if there had been any,
was healed
now, and even the burn pain was lessening as she lay there.
"Now *that* is a handy ability," she murmured
to the sky, rolling
over and pushing to her feet, water running down what was left of her
clothing. "I'm gonna get arrested for indecent exposure . . .
"
Something was nagging at her.
She started weaving her way back to the fire
that she could see
burning as an offering to the night sky.
What was it Taylor had said?
<Just remember, Bateman, when you're attending
the funeral for
your partner that it's your fault.>
A car raced past her, then stopped with a
squeal of brakes.
<Oh my God,> she thought with dread certainty.
<What the hell
happed to that second goon?>
"Hey Bateman! Bateman!"
The voice belonged to another agent who was
out of his car and
coming around to her.
"You okay? Oh God, what the hell happened
to you?" the man was saying.
"Hastings," she said, focussing on him.
"Hastings, I need to get
to the hospital."
"No kidding. Hang on and I'll call for
an ambo."
"No time." She wanted to scream at him.
"I need to go now."
"Okay, okay, get in."
*********************************
Skinner's cell phone was ringing.
He'd left it on the squad car and Mulder picked
it up as he
stared at the newly arrived fire teams who were struggling to put out
the
blaze.
"Yeah?" he rasped into the receiver listlessly.
"Mulder, I -- "
"Bateman!!" He almost choked as he heard
her voice and from a
few feet away, he saw Skinner looking over at him with a curious
expression. "Wha -- what happened?"
"I -- um -- I was lucky." The flat tone
of her voice told him
there was more to this than luck.
"Right."
"Listen to me, Mulder. Taylor said something
to me and the
double before you came in. He said it would be my fault that
everyone died."
"Bateman, where are you?"
"I'm en route to Washington General.
Shut up and listen. He
told me that when I attended my partner's *funeral* to remember that
it
had been my fault. He found out that you were coming."
"How -- "
"That other goon from the airport. He
must have circled back and
followed Langly. Mulder, I think he's heading for the hospital."
"Are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure! If I was, I wouldn't
be talking in if's and
maybe's!"
After the stress of the evening, Mulder was
shocked that he could
still muster up enough adrenaline to get his heart pumping at warp
speeds
again. "Bateman, Dana and Langly left for the hospital
nearly ten
minutes ago."
He nearly missed her soft curse. "Oh,
this is getting better and
better. Meet you there, Mulder."
With that hse hung up and Mulder climbed back
in the squad car as
Skinner came over to lean in the window.
"That was Bateman. She's alive and heading
for the hospital.
Seems that Taylor mentioned something about everyone getting killed."
Skinner's brow furrowed. "He sent someone
there to take care of
any witnesses?"
"Look like."
The AD made it around the side of the car
in record time. "Let's
go."
__________________________
end part sixteen
From larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Fri Sep 13 14:52:56 1996
Path:
news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!newsfe
ed.internetmci.com!info.ucla.edu!unixg.ubc.ca!larchiba
From: larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca (Jess Archibald)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: REP:CONSPIRACY 17/18
Date: 13 Sep 1996 19:52:56 GMT
Organization: University of British Columbia, Vancouver, B.C., Canada
Lines: 248
Message-ID: <51ce2o$7cq@nntp.ucs.ubc.ca>
NNTP-Posting-Host: netinfo.ubc.ca
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL2]
disclaimer in part sixteen
______________________
T h e X - F i l e s
CONSPIRACY part 17/18
by Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
______________________
Washington General Hospital
12:42 a.m.
"Mom, I'm fine. Really."
Margaret Scully ignored her daughter's protests
and hovered
around the young intern, who was looking a little overwhelmed between
the
two women. Langly was down a little ways getting a cut stitched
up along
the side of his head. He was carrying the wound, caused by the
building
blowing up, like a sign of honour, and was busy regaling a young,
attractive nurse with the story.
Dana squeezed her eyes shut for about the
billionth time. Her
mother had been waiting for the ambulance at the entrance to the
emergency room and had flatly refused to leave when approached by some
of
the e.r. staff. Dana was just so tired, she hadn't the energy
to waste
soothing her mother, who was usually the last person in the world to
give
in to the hysterics that were threatening. All the younger Scully
wanted
to do was close her eyes and get some rest, before dealing with the
emotional turmoil that clung to her as surely as the smoke from the
fire
had worked its way into her clothing. She had nearly shied away
from
Mulder outside the warehouse, she wasn't up to dealing with him right
now
and it was just as well that he had remained behind at the scene to
look
for Zoe.
Zoe . . .
There was one of the reasons that she couldn't
rest yet, not
until she received some news.
The other was that she had to get a look at
Doug and the other
two Lone Gunmen before she was conivnced that they were really all
right. Mulder and Langly had both skillfully dodged the question
of
Doug's status.
Not a comforting sign.
The intern finally gave in, throwing his hands
up and pronouncing
her as fit as she was likely to be and recommending several days, if
not
weeks, of rest.
Dana nodded and levered herself off of the
examining table.
"Dana, maybe you should take it easy," her
mother said. "There's
nothing you can do for poor Doug Shelton right now."
Dana felt her expression freeze. "What,
exactly, is wrong with
Doug? No one told me much of anything."
Margaret looked at her, then away, then back
again. "He's in a
coma."
"Where?" The question came out with
a whispered breath. Taylor
hadn't been lying about that -- had he been telling the truth then
about
everything else? The 'chip, what it had forced her to do, what
it might
have made her feel?
She forced those thoughts aside, straightening,
ignoring the
twinges of pain, waiting for her mother's reply.
"ICU."
"Langly," Dana called, moving slowly in the
direction of the
elevator. "Feel like making the rounds and seeing how everyone's
doing?"
The blond man tore himself away from the nurse
with a sigh and a
half smile, joining both Scullys and heading for the lift.
**********************************
It had taken him nearly an hour to reach the
hospital and work
his way up to the ICU floor without drawing too much attention to
himself. By the time that he had, he realized that there was
no way he
could get at Shelton without getting caught himself. Taylor would
have
to settle for the guy being in a coma and hope for the best.
In the
meantime, he was going to take out the other two instead.
As he headed down the hall, the elevator door
opened and three
people got out.
The older woman he didn't recognize, but the
other two -- Scully
and Langly. Taylor had made sure all of his operatives knew who
they
were after.
Backpedaling, the man headed back down the
corridor, looking for
a room he could duck into.
And then Langly started to shout.
**********************************
Zoe was out of the car before Hastings had
brought it to a full
stop. She had explained what was going on as they drove over,
breaking
several speed limits and numerous traffic rules.
"Stay here and wait for Mulder," she said,
not sure why she felt
the imperative to go in on her own, but giving in to it, running for
the
doors to the emergency room, hitting them with her shoulder and barging
in.
As soon as she cleared the door, several employees
tried to
offer their assistance, taking in her burned skin and wrecked clothing
and
recognizing someone who needed help.
She waved them off, fishing for a badge that
was too ruined to be
recognizable.
"I'm a federal agent," she said, brushing
off two of them and
heading for the stairs. "What floor is ICU?"
"Forth, but -- "
"Thanks." And then she vanished up the
stairwell.
***************************
Dana was taken by surprise when Langly stopped
after getting off
the elevator.
"Scully!" he cried in a stage whisper, pointing
an unsteady
finger at a man up ahead who was walking quickly away from them.
"That
guy! He was at BWI tonight! He tried to kill Bateman!"
"Wha -- "
Before she could get any further than that,
Langly started
shouting at the man, beginning to run forward, drawing a *gun* out
from
under his shirt.
"Mom, go find security," she said, starting
after the two men,
fighting past the pain to keep moving.
The man had darted into a stair well, with
Langly close behind.
Dana reached it nearly a full thirty seconds later, opening it in time
to
see Langly disappear around a bend in the stairs twenty feet below.
"Langly!" she shouted, wanting to warn him
to be careful,
wondering where the hell he got that gun from.
Up above, she heard the sound of a closing
door.
"Langly!" she called, again, taking the stairs
up as many at a
time as she could manage. "He went up, not down!"
Below her, she heard him turning around and
swearing.
*************************************
Carlmicheals had stepped away from the door
to the room housing
John Doe One and John Doe Two, looking for a vending machine where
he
could get some coffee, when the door to the emergency stairwell was
flung open and a man emerged, running full tilt.
There was a gun in the man's hand.
Carlmicheals reached frantically for his own
gun as the man came
tearing down the hallway, nearly slamming into him. Their eyes
locked
for a second and the man seemed to recognize his intent, raising the
gun,
bringing it up to fire as the stair door opened again.
All Carlmicheals heard was the explosion of
the gun going off and
all he felt was the fierce sting of pain as the bullet tore into his
left
arm, the force and shock spinning him halfway around before he slid
to
the floor with a grunt.
The man kept moving, going for the room that
Carlmicheals had
just left unguarded, disappearing inside before the agent had managed
to
fumble out his gun. He tried to get to his feet, but the world
seemed to
tilted at an odd angle.
"Carlmicheals!" Scully knelt in front
of him, a worried look on
her face as she took a quick, professional look at the wound.
"You'll live."
"Scully, what are you doin' here?" he asked
in a voice that was
rapidly losing lucidity.
"Never mind that now," she said quickly, reaching
for the gun
that had done him scant good, taking it a little awkwardly with her
left
hand, right still in a cast, standing and moving as fast as she could
to
the room just down the hall.
Carlmicheals lost sight of her as the world
spun and faded.
***********************************
Mulder pulled up outside the hospital, right
next to where
Hastings was waiting by his car.
"There you are," the agent said, coming over
to meet him.
"Bateman took off into the hospital and told me to wait for you."
"Idiot," Mulder growled, getting out of the
squad car and
sprinting for the door.
"Hey, watch it, Spooky!" Hastings called after
him, turning back
to his car in time to see AD Skinner coming around the side of the
police
car. "Uh -- sir!"
Skinner fixed him with a cold look before
moving past to follow
Mulder inside the hospital.
**************************
Langly ran back up the flight of stairs that
he had just gone
down, sucked in a deep breath and then set out up the next flight,
dimly
aware of the running footsteps behind him, Shelton's gun feeling like
a
very heavy weight in his hand.
"Langly!" called a raspy voice and he turned,
almost falling to
see a battered Bateman rounding the turn in the stairs.
"You look like hell!" he said stupidly, staring
at her in abject
shock, a state that he was rarely in. Her clothing was mostly
a
collection of tattered rags that Frohike would have taken a strong
interest in, with soot and grime smeared liberally across her features,
some of the skin on her face and hands blistered and a painful looking
pink.
"Really, thanks for filling me in," she said
with remarkable calm
under the circumstances, the look in her eyes showing the only hint
of
emotion, an anger that was burning brightly. "What are you doing?"
"I saw the other goon from the airport.
Scully and I chased him
into the stairwell and I went the wrong way."
Bateman went to brush past him, stopped and
took the gun from
him. "Excuse me, while I borrow this."
"It's all yours."
"What floor did