Part 04/06
Lone Gunmen's dwellings
4:00 p.m.
"Password, please."
Mulder pounded at the door until he was afraid he would break
right through it. "I'm not in the mood for games now, guys.
Let me in." Little pig, little pig. Truth was, he hadn't the
slightest what the Gunmen's latest password was.
"Frohike, open the door," Scully said, her voice
commanding.
"For you, anything," came the reply. The door swung
open, revealing Mulder's
three paranoid friends.
"Hi buddy, why didn't you _say_ you had brought your lovely
partner?"
Mulder pushed past them, and made his way through the cluttered
room. Taking a seat on a stool by the computer, he said,
"What'd you find for me?"
Byers sat down next to him and began typing on the keyboard. A
screen popped up. "Apparently Allyanna was ended abruptly in
1978, as I told you before."
"And..." Scully inquired.
"And, for the early Allyanna at least, I came up with a
whole stack of information, but its all random. Dates, places,
first names. Nothing fits together. I even tried to decode it,
but it seems pretty straight forward. As nothing." Byers
showed them the list.
Mulder squinted in concentration. "Print me out a copy of
that, will you?"
"Sure." They did, and Mulder put the printout into his
extensive file of Marcus Berkowitz.
"I'll take a look at those later. Now what did you find
about the re-emerging Project Allyanna?"
Langly shrugged. "Not much. A legal lookin' document and
some signatures."
"On the database?" Scully asked.
"Yes. I'll print that out for you too, if you want, but it's
not too clear. It apparently was scanned on, and the nothing but
the signatures is clear."
"I think we'd be interested in those," Scully said
slowly, with a look over to Mulder, who nodded.
The printer hummed, and a single page shot out. Mulder slipped it
in his file. "Anything else?"
"Want to see what we did to our copy of Mortal Combat? It's
now interactive and you can play with up to eighty-six players,
plus you have a choice of various nuclear and biological weapons
as well as the normal machine guns and such."
"I'll take a rain check, thanks," Mulder said.
"See you, gentlemen."
"Bye Mulder."
Walking to the car, Scully had to take several quick steps to
keep up to one of her partner's long, determined strides.
"They really didn't help us much, Mulder."
He shrugged. "We'll work with what we can get. These guys
are the best, we're not going to get any better than this info
here."
Scully peered up. "I've never heard you give in so
easily."
"Well, let's just say I have a feeling we can get something
out of this."
"Yeah? Want to share with me exactly _what_?" Scully
asked. They had reached the car and she pushed Mulder over to the
passengers side.
"Are you sure your feet can reach the pedals on this car?
I'm not sure exactly what. But I know a good source for analyzing
signatures, and I think I can get something out of those dates
and stuff."
"That's still not a lot," she argued.
"Well, if we get bored, we can always go over and play
Mortal Combat."
Mulder's apartment
6:38 p.m.
"Scully, I got something."
"Hm?" Scully looked up from her own pile of dates,
places and first names. She had been getting nowhere and hoped
Mulder was having more success than she. Hearing his voice was a
great relief to her, especially saying the words "I got
something."
"Yeah. Look at this date, October 9, 1986."
"What about it?" she asked.
"All the other dates are before 1978, when the project
terminated. But this is eight years after. And I think I've seen
this date before, I'm not sure where."
"One of Kennedy's files maybe?"
Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. Can you look for it, and
I'll keep going through these? I think I've got a system to
connect the places to the dates, but I'm not sure about the
names."
Scully, hopeful she could outsmart her partner at one thing,
said, "Tell me the names, maybe I'll get it."
"Um.... Henry, Oliver, Hart, Martin, Alloicious."
She winced on the last one. "Are those any of the names that
have shown up in Kennedy's documents, or Caleb Berkowitz's?"
He shook his head.
Scully stared at the ceiling for a minute. "How about middle
names?"
"Actually, I don't know. You may be on to something. See
what you can do, okay? I'll be right back." He stood, arched
his back in a stretch, then headed for the bathroom. Closing the
door after himself, he stood in front of the sink, placed his
hands on the rim and leaned forward to get a good look in the
mirror. His eyes, he noticed, were bloodshot, and his complexion
pale. His head had been pounding for a while now, but he hadn't
wanted to mention anything, lest he startle Scully back into her
doctor mode. He let the water run for a minute, until it was as
cold as he could get it, and cupped his hands under the faucet
and brought the water up to his face. It woke him up a bit and,
after a three more splashes, he wiped his face with a towel off
the rack and returned to the living room.
"Find anything?" he asked.
Scully shook her head. "But I'll keep looking," she
said. "Why don't you get back to work on connecting dates to
those places."
He nodded and collapsed back on the floor, crossing his legs
Indian-style. Swallowing a yawn, he picked up his stack of
papers, slid his reading glasses on, and began working.
Mulders apartment
7:37 p.m.
Mulder sighed as he turned yet another page. He had found nothing
and the pounding in his head that had been a minor problem before
was slowly becoming a major difficulty. The words were beginning
to blur before his eyes. After all, wasnt Scully warning
him that one of these days he would get eye strain.
He squinted, and was relieved to see some of the words more
clearly than he could before. He glanced at Scully, glad to see
her engrossed in her own notes. For a minute he just looked at
her and smiled. Her eyes were quickly scanning the written text
before her, the light reflecting off her own pair of glasses. Her
hair fell into her face and she looked so involved, so
determined. So
.cute.
"Are you okay, Mulder?"
He looked up at her voice, and let the papers fall to his lap. He
felt a yawn wanting to come on, but fought it off. "Im
fine, Scully, he replied, though his voice sounded a little
weary to his own ears. He hoped Scully didnt notice.
No such luck. Immediately, she put her own papers down and turned
more of her attention toward him. "Mulder, youre
squinting."
Immediately he denied it. "No Im not."
"Yes you are."
"Im not." Mulder suddenly felt like he was about
to get himself into a game of "are, not", a game he had
last played as a child. These days it seemed less a game, more a
bargaining chip.
Scully, meanwhile had moved closer toward Mulder. She took his
glasses off, folded them neatly and placed them on a table. She
took the papers off his lap. "Mulder," she said with a
sigh, "when were you going to tell me you felt bad?"
"I feel fine," Mulder repeated beginning to hate those
words and the meaning they conveyed.
Scully ignored his words and pushed forward. "How long have
you had the headache?" she asked an a no-nonsense voice.
Mulder knew it wouldnt be long before she launched into her
"doctor" voice and the actions that came along with it.
He relented, knowing he wouldnt win. When did he ever win,
anyway?
"Not long," he admitted and she raised her eyebrows in
a look that said, "tell me the truth, Mulder." He
sighed. "Ok, well maybe a little longer than that."
Scully let her expression relax and sighed. "Mulder, this
has got us both occupied now that neither of us can think
straight."
"But were close, Scully."
"Arent we always, Mulder? Close to the truth, too
close. Mulder, I dont want to think about getting too
close. Think of all the times you got too close."
Mulder nodded, recalling the pains he endured from getting to
close to "their" plans. Of course he never thought that
the "they" he was searching for could be as close as
immediate family. Hed always known his father was involved,
he just didnt want to admit to himself that his father had
Samantha taken. He had fooled himself, and denied the truth.
Scully was next to him as soon as he slumped. "Mulder, you
need some sleep," she reasoned, "and some
Excedrin." She got up and walked into the kitchen. Mulder
heard the tap run for a second then Scully reappeared, glass and
pills in hand. She handed both to him and watched him swallow
them carefully.
"Off to bed," she said getting up and offering him a
hand. Normally he would have shrugged her hand off and gotten up
himself, but he was too tired to be macho. He accepted her hand
and she helped him regain his footing. He had barely gotten up
before Scully was steering him into his bedroom. He noticed she
had pushed the junk he usually kept on his bed off. To where, he
didnt know. She pushed him down onto the bed gently, and he
landed with a soft thud.
"Scully, you need rest too. Go home," he told her.
Scully smiled at his remark. "And leave you alone with just
your conscience to follow orders? In your dreams, Mulder."
"On the contrary, Scully. Having you stay is part of my
dreams," he teased and he thought he saw Scully do a very
unScully-like thing: blush.
"Did I just see Agent Scully blush?"
Scully smiled and pushed him down, and took his shoes off.
"I think your tired mind is seeing things." She sat
down on the edge of the bed and took a good "doctor"
glance at him. She gripped his wrist, taking his pulse, and
watching her watch.
His hand gripped her wrist as she finished. "Im fine,
Scully. Just a little tired."
"There is no such thing as a little tired for you,
Mulder," she teased as her head brushed his forehead. She
paused slightly then moved it away. Mulder knew she was checking
his temperature and trying to do it without him knowing.
"I dont have a fever, Scully," he said as he
settled against the pillows most comfortably. Suddenly he was
having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
"Go to sleep, Mulder." He closed his eyes, the fatigue
catching up with him. The last thing he felt as he fell asleep
was Scullys hand again brushing his forehead.
Mulder's apartment
11:21 a.m.
Scully was long gone by the time Mulder managed to drag his
eyelids open. Actually, considering the long list of recent
injuries he had obtained, he wasn't feeling too bad. Walking to
the living room where they had been working last night, Mulder
discovered that Scully had had some progress.
On a post-it, in her neat script she had written out the names:
Henry, Oliver, Hart, Martin, Alloicious. Under that, she had
written, Thomas H. Moralis, Edward O. Sigourney, Marcus H.
Berkowitz, Benjamin M. Kahn, Alec A. Harris.
Mulder's phone was ringing. He instinctively reached to his
pocket for his cell phone, then realized a. he didn't have his
cell on him and b. the ringing was coming from the table. He
reached up and grabbed the phone and brought it to his ear.
"Mulder."
"Hi, it's me. Did you find my notes?" Scully.
"Yes, they're right here. What's all this mean though?"
She said, "Look at the middle initials on all of those
names. Each middle initial matches up with a first name on that
sheet the Gunmen gave us."
Mulder pulled himself up so he was sitting on the couch. "So
those first names are actually middle names."
"If my theory is right, yes. It's a simple way of coding who
did what but, I have to say, it did throw me off for quite a few
hours."
"A few hours?" Mulder asked. "How late were you
working."
On her end, Scully shrugged, then realized Mulder couldn't see
her and said, "I don't know. Until midnight maybe."
He frowned. "Are you home now?"
"No, I'm at work."
"Scully....."
"Don't worry, _mom_, I got enough sleep. It's pretty late,
why don't you come on over now."
Mulder glanced at his watch for the first time that day and saw
that it was, indeed, late.
"Sorry partner," he said sheepishly. "I didn't
mean to leave you with all the work. Guess I overslept."
"That's okay, you needed it. Come on over when you're ready,
I think I found something."
J. Edgar Hoover Building
12:03 p.m.
"What'd you find?" Mulder said when he stepped into the
room.
"Good morning to you too," his partner replied. She
waved him over. "Look at this. See after every name and
place here, right above the letters, is a number? Look, this is
one, and two, three, four etc. I put them in order. Then I put
all the dates out in chronological order. By using the little
numbers after the names and places, you can match them up with
whatever date comes chronologically first, or second or whatever.
Look." She handed a piece of paper to him.
May 16, 1964 Edward O. Sigourney (Oliver) Melbourn, MA
Nov. 11, 1964 Marcus H. Berkowitz (Hart) Los Angeles, CA
June 8, 1966 Benjamin M. Kahn (Martin) Fort Wayne, IN
August 29, 1969 Alec A. Harris (Alloicious) Hathaway, ML
October 25, 1971 Thomas H. Moralis (Henry) Norwalk, CT
Mulder was shaking his head. "Scully that's great, I
would've never thought of that. But what does this all mean? I
mean, what is the actual meaning of this connection between the
person, place and date?"
"Maybe the 'club's' meetings?" Scully suggested.
"I was thinking that too, but they must've met more often
than that." Mulder dropped down onto the couch and, resting
his chin on one fist, assumed the thinking position.
"Or maybe they didn't. Maybe that's how they were so
secretive, because they hardly met at all. And they kept choosing
new locations to meet. So when they "closed down", they
just met a bit more infrequently, but still continued the
work."
Mulder was silent. Scully watched him consider this, and jumped
when he stood abruptly and marched to the door. "All right,
well, I'm going on the database to see if I can find anything
else. I'll look up those places and dates..... see if I come up
with anything."
"What should I do, Mulder?" Scully asked.
He shrugged and flipped on his computer. Scully sat silently on
the arm of the couch and waited for Mulder to turn around and
give her some order. When he didn't after several minutes, she
began to wonder. Mulder had never been like this before. He
seemed sort of..... cold. She wondered if he was, perhaps,
jealous, that she had pieced together so much information when he
couldn't find anything.
"Mulder," she began.
"Not now, Scully, I need to do this."
She sighed. Partners. "Okay, well I'm going out to get some
lunch. Unlike _some_ people, I didn't get to sleep in, and I'm
ready for a break." She waited for him to turn around,
again, but he just nodded.
"Sure, Scully," he said, eyes glued to the screen.
Scully grabbed her jacket off the coat tree and left.
1:30 p.m.
"Damn it!"
Mulder wanted to throw his computer through the wall, and if it
didnt help him soon, he just might. The dates and names
drew blanks. According to what he could find, Project Allyanna
might as well have never existed. He sighed. It was so
frustrating! He slammed his hand on the desk, barely missing
pounding his coffee mug into a million tiny pieces.
These man had normal jobs. They had families and wives. They were
part of the community, even donated money to the PTA. They were
the last people anyone would suspect were involved in dirty
government business. They were the perfect next-door neighbors,
the ones with the perfect children and the perfect dog.
But Mulder knew looks could be very deceiving. The
"perfect" children grew up to be in therapy and became
drug addict because of the lack of love they received from their
parents. The "perfect" dog was a neglected animal, only
cared by the children, who turned to it for their only sense of
love and comfort. The money donated to the PTA wasnt always
"clean" money, and it always had a few strings
attached. Their "wives" were detached, and sought other
men to satisfy them. Yes, Mulder knew the game well.
He looked back at his glaring computer and saw his reflection in
the screen as the black screen saver came up. A thirty seven
year-old man who still didnt know the secrets of his
childhood. A man with nightmares of his sisters
abduction. One who may be smart, but was never smart enough to
find his sister. One who never seemed to get it right.
He shook his head and picked up his coffee cup, downing some of
the cold liquid inside. He was failing Samantha, but that
wasnt what bothered him as much; what bothered him was that
he was failing Scully.
Scully. His partner. The person who, since she had been partnered
with him, had been abducted, had been through cancer, and had
discovered a daughter that was never meant to be.
Maybe if he found out how his father was involved in the big
web of things, he could find his sister. But at the
very least he wanted to give Scully answers. He wanted answers.
The thoughts made his head swim. Answers came with a big price
tag today, and Mulder was unsure of his credit card limit before
it cut in two.
He had been lucky. Found some breaks. But those breaks usually
came with a near death experience. Nearly dying on the ice and in
Eisenhower Field and seizures from getting a hole drilled in his
head with just a couple. Scully was right, as soon as he good
close, he was in danger. They were both in danger.
He glanced around his office and he eyes fell to the filing
cabinet. He slowly got up, wincing as a unexpected pain hit his
head, and walked to it. He bent down and opened the drawer and
located the file he wanted. Well, the files he wanted.
Samanthas and Scullys. He looked at both folders in
his hand and sighed. A headache was definitely coming on. He took
both folders back to his desk, intending to go other thoroughly,
hoping to find something he missed the other thousand times he
had looked at them. He dropped them on the desk and jumped as he
heard a ping. A glance toward his computer screen told him it was
his e-mail alert. He frowned and clicked on the icon to open it.
He paled at the words the e-mail contained.
A warning, Mr. Mulder. A warning before its too late.
J. Edgar Hoover Building
1:47 p.m.
Scully strolled into the building, a take-out bag in her hand.
She had gone back home and taken the shower shed skipped
this morning, then decided to bring take-out to Mulder in the
office. He was distant, and Scully hoped he wasnt going to
get himself in trouble. She always tried to stop him, but Mulder
got himself deeply involved, always routed to his search. It
would take a crowbar to get him away.
She took the elevator down to the basement, watching with a
half-interested eye as the numbers lit up. The doors opened and
let her into the basement. She quickly made her way toward the
office, not surprised to find the door closed when she reached
it. She gently turned the knob.
"Mulder, I brought lunch," she said as she walked in,
but got no response.
She walked in further and found him staring at the computer, a
file in his hands, which seemed to be trembling just a bit.
"Mulder?" she said, hoping to get his attention.
He looked up at her, his face blank and pale, and immediately
Scully felt concern for him. "They know, Scully," he
said softly, almost a whisper. He let the folder drop back onto
the desk.
"Who knows, Mulder?" she asked as she approached his
desk to get a good look at him. His eyes seemed slightly dilated,
though Scully knew that could be because of the computer. He
looked slightly flushed, though not any more than last night, and
he had only been mildly warm then. Nothing much to worry about so
she let it drop. But he was pale and did look a bit shaken.
"_They_ Scully, he repeated and Scully gripped his
wrist.
"Mulder, your pulse is racing. What happened?"
Mulder shook his head as if to clear it and pointed to the
computer. "That, Scully. I got that e-mail a little while
ago."
Scully let go of Mulders wrist and turned to read the
screen. She sighed at the words.
"They could just be trying to scare-"
"No, Scully. They know what I want." He sighed and
leaned back against his chair. "They are going to bury
themselves deeper. If I go any further, theyll take action.
And not just against me. That would be too easy."
Scully nodded, understanding. The unspoken risks were left to air
out in the moment of silence that passed by them.
"So, were more careful," Scully said finally.
"Careful is only a word, Scully."
"Then we play it their way."
"Their way?" Mulder asked, sitting up.
"Well, usually in this kind of fight, one person is left
standing. Well have to make sure its us."
"Thats harder than you think, Scully."
"Everything is harder then you think, Mulder. But weve
both got something on our sides that may help."
"Whats that?"
Scully leaned in closer toward Mulder, her cross dangling. She
grabbed Mulders hand. "Faith. In each other."
Mulder's Apartment
6:17 p.m.
That night, back at Mulder's apartment, the two agents were
spread out on the floor reviewing paperwork with large cups of
cold coffee by their sides when the phone rang.
"Mulder."
"Agent Mulder, is Agent Scully there with you?" Mulder
recognized the gruff voice as Skinner.
"Sure, sir, here you go." He handed the phone over to
Scully who gave him a look like "how'd he know I was
here?"
"Sir?" Scully asked. She pulled herself up and sat
crossed-legged, her back against the wall. When she leaned her
head back, her hair spilled stark red against the white, and she
seemed to be studying the ceiling as the AD spoke. Mulder watched
her listen silently until she said, "But sir, I..."
Skinner apparently cut her off and then Scully said resignedly,
"All right. Yes, sir. Bye."
She handed the receiver to Mulder who reached over and hung it
up. "What'd he say?" he asked.
Scully sighed. "Evidently someone in VCS overheard that I
was presently free and partnerless, and they want me to do the
pathology report on one of the cases they're in the middle
of."
"Partnerless?" Mulder echoed.
"Yes, you, mister, are on vacation, remember?"
"Oh yeah, how could I forget?" He mumbled. "So
when do you have to leave?"
"Well the case is in Fairfield so they want me down there
tomorrow morning."
"Fairfield...."
"Connecticut."
Mulder pulled out his folder which was beginning to get dog-eared
from constant reviewing and traveling. "Scully, the last
meeting that the 'club' had was on October 25, 1971 in Norwalk,
CT. That's right next to Fairfield, isn't it?"
"I think so. What are you saying, Mulder?" She asked
slowly, not wanting to encourage her partner's idea in anyway
until she knew what exactly he had in mind.
"I'm saying how about I go with you? I could say its a trip,
not a business trip, but just a trip on my vacation, and I could
check out the town where they had their last meeting while you
work on the pathology report for the VCS. Then at night we could
conference and you could help me. Hey, were you able to connect
any name to that set of place and date?"
"Yeah, Thomas H. Moralis, referred to as 'Henry' in the
documents."
Mulder sat still for a moment, trying to think of what the
documents had said about "Henry". His photographic
memory was pulling a blank on him at that moment. "Scully,
I'm going to go through and see what these say about 'Henry' and
then pack. You go home and get some sleep and I'll meet you
tomorrow morning at the airport."
"Mulder, wait, _wait_," she ordered. He stopped from
where he had begun sorting madly through the files, trying to
find the one he wanted.
"What?"
"Mulder," she said. "You _can't_ go to Connecticut
with me. First off, you're still recuperating, and second, I have
no idea how long this is going to take. What if we're still away
in Connecticut and Skinner calls up and orders you to come back
on duty and you're not at home? Huh?"
"Then I'll come home," he said patiently. "Go,
Scully. You need all the rest you can get. What time did Skinner
say your flight was?"
Scully stood and shrugged into her jacket. "Eight-thirty
five," she said. "Look, Mulder...."
"No buts about it, Scully, this is perfect. See you
tomorrow." With that, he pulled open the door, gently shoved
his partner through it, and slammed the door.
Time Unknown
Place Unknown
"He's going where?" The voice was calm, as always, and
surrounded in a shadow of smoke.
"Norwalk, Connecticut."
"Our meeting," the calm voice said. "It was too
long ago, he won't find a thing."
"But sir," the other was getting nervous. "He's on
to us. He's too close. We _need_ to do something about
this."
End Part 04/06