Julia
Chapter Four

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Undisclosed location
West Virginia Mountains
June 3, 2000
9:13 a.m.


Unbidden, a line from the Apostle's Creed
drifted through her stunned mind.

'On the third day, he rose again from the
dead....'

"Fuck!"  Krycek's epithet was explosive,
shattering the eerie calm in the room.  "I
killed that motherfucker!  God damn son-of-a-
bitch!"  He was pacing, using his good hand to
rub the sweat from his face.

The Appointing Authority's speech hadn't lasted
long; he promised a return to normalcy as
quickly as possible.  He also said he would keep
the public informed with daily reports.

Cancerman - the Appointing Authority, from this
day forward - smiled as the blue-on-blue logo of
the Federal Emergency Management Agency faded to
black.

Their world had changed in two and half minutes.

"Looks like he's alive to me."  Scully's flat
voice cut through the stream of curses like a
knife.  Arms crossed, she stood flanked by the
Gunmen, all of them with accusatory stares.

"He was dead."  Krycek stopped, his eyes focused
on nothing, blank shock pounding his voice down
to a whisper.  "He was dead."

Scully snorted, dropping her arms to move
forward and grab Krycek's arm.  "Well, now he's
not.  So what the hell are we supposed to do
now?  I assume he knows about this place?" 
Shaking his arm, her words rose in volume. 
"Talk to me!"

Krycek jerked and shook her off, his sanity back
in a flash.  "No he doesn't.  This was part of
Strughold's mining company, abandoned after you
and Mulder broke in here years ago.  I kept it
up just in case I ended up on the wrong side of
the fence when...."  He broke off, his jaw
working with residual anger.

Sarcastic laughter burst from Scully.  "I should
have known you couldn't do the job right,
Krycek.  You should have kept to his side of the
fence, don't you think?"

Their host curled his hand, as if he was about
to strike her, fury darkening his face.  Scully
stood firm, her chin lifting.  Her arms crossed
again, an immovable wall in the face of his
anger.  Eyes of steel blue dared him to make a
move toward her.  She had withstood much better
blasts of intimidation, from far worthier
opponents.

They stood like roosters poised to fight for
several seconds, then Krycek said through
clenched teeth, "Don't fuck with me, Scully. 
I'm gonna bring him down if it's the last thing
I do."  He stalked away.

"Now what?"  Byers came up beside her, the
slight tremor in his voice betraying just how
frightened they were.  Not only by the message
they'd just seen, but by the impending fight
they'd almost witnessed.

She sighed, her fists uncurling, her arms
dropping.  The slight shake of her hands went
unnoticed by everyone but her; she ran her damp
palms over the seams of her too-big jeans.

"He's still alive," she said simply.  "If
Cancerman lives, Mulder lives."

Her gaze met Byers' with calm resolve.

"That's all I care about."


**********


Washington, D. C.
January 29, 2001
2:45 a.m.


Julia had no idea where the limousine was taking
them.  She had so wanted to see the lights of D.
C. once again, but was thwarted when their
escort insisted they don black hoods.

Next to her, Eliza was wheezing.  Julia slid her
hand across the leather seat until she grabbed
the other woman's; she squeezed urgently.

"I'm okay," Eliza panted, "I'm just a little
claustrophobic."

Julia crushed the rising panic; she hoped that
Eliza would make it to the end of the trip. 
Administering first aid would definitely blow
her cover, and she didn't know if she had the
heart to deny medical aid to anyone, including
Eliza.  Hoping to calm her, Julia rubbed her
thumb across the back of Eliza's hand, humming
nonsensically, like her mother had done for her
so many times, soothing hurts and banishing
nightmares.  It didn't occur to her it was quite
possibly the last time she would ever sing.

The humming unconsciously transformed into soft,
slightly off-key words.

"'And if that mockingbird don't sing -'" She
trailed off, the word 'sing' echoing in her
head.  "'If...'"

<Sing something so I know you're awake.>

"If that mockingbird...."

<You don't want me to sing.  I can't carry a
tune.>

"It's okay, Julia," Eliza said.  "You don't have
to go on.  Unless you want to." 

"I can't," Julia whispered, her throat hurting
with unshed tears.  "I can't remember the
words."

"I'll sing for you, okay?"  For all that she was
a mercenary bitch, Eliza was the only friend
Julia had in the world.  They'd grown to
tolerate each other, if not like each other. 
Julia had vowed not to let anyone get close to
her again, and she thought she really should
stop this right now.  But she couldn't.

<It doesn't matter - just sing anything.>

"'If that mockingbird don't sing..."  Eliza's
voice was stronger, more pleasing to the ear. 
It reminded Julia of her mother's.  "'Mama's
gonna buy you a diamond ring.  And if that
diamond ring turns brass, Mama's gonna buy you
a....'"

Eliza's voice abruptly stopped in time with the
car.  They both felt a draft of cold air,
followed by muffled conversation.  Julia figured
it was a checkpoint of some kind, the first of
many, she was sure.  The Appointing Authority
would be nothing if not cautious.

The temporary respite from the journey had
quieted the women.  No longer did they speak, no
longer did they sing.  Instead, Julia counted
the minutes between one checkpoint and the next,
although any hope of escape was futile.  But it
didn't hurt to file the information away.

Finally, the hum of the tires changed into a
roar.  Underground, Julia thought.  A tunnel, or
parking garage.  Most likely a tunnel; she'd
always wondered if the rumor of a mile deep
elevator descending into the ground from the
White House was true.  This was probably not
beneath the White House, but it certainly proved
beyond a doubt that it could be done.

Eliza started fidgeting again.  No such luck
she'd realize she was underground; her
claustrophobia would put an end to her
excitement fairly quickly.  Julia was so tempted
to tell her, then thought better of it.  The
woman had sung to her.  The time for pettiness
was past.

"Get out."

The harsh command was barked through the
intercom before they'd even stopped completely. 
A rush of carbon monoxide accompanied the
opening of the rear door, and rough hands lifted
Julia from the seat.  Behind her, the car sped
away.

"Julia?"  The frantic cry came from beyond her
left shoulder.

"Here.  I'm here."

The two women were walked into the elevator,
where they joined hands again.  "Julia, I'm
scared," Eliza whispered.

*Now* she realizes the mess she's gotten into,
Julia mused.  Too little, too late.

"Be strong, Eliza.  This could be the feather in
your cap, remember?"

Eliza's hand jerked in hers.  Before she could
reply, the elevator glided to a stop.  They were
pushed into a warm room, their shoes sinking
into shag carpeting.

"We don't need these anymore, gentlemen."

The hoods were removed and Julia blinked several
times, adjusting to the brightly lit foyer.

"I'm Laura Boulden," the woman purred, one
elegant hand extended in greeting.  "You must be
Julia."  A thousand dollar smile accompanied the
words.

"Yes," Julia said, then timidly lowered her
voice.  "This is -"

"Eliza Marcotte, yes, I know.  I believe you
used to work out of New York, is that right?"

Swallowing her fear, Eliza's kiss-ass
personality returned with a vengeance.  "Laura
Boulden? *The* Laura Boulden?"

"Chief Administrator in charge of the escorts,
yes.  I prefer 'escorts,' by the way."  In other
words, the term 'concubines' was strictly taboo. 
"Please follow me, ladies.  The Appointing
Authority will see you shortly."

Julia thought the woman looked rather like Grace
Kelly, with her cool blond looks and pristine
accent.  Philadelphia, maybe?  Or Boston?

The three of them walked through a door flanked
by armed Guardsmen.  There was an older woman
sitting at the lone desk; she immediately picked
up the telephone.

"They're here, sir," she murmured, then gently
set the receiver back into its cradle, nodding
at the overstuffed chairs in the far corner.

It was only a matter of minutes, but it felt
like hours to Julia.  Hours spent sitting
perfectly still while Eliza smoothed her hair
into its former shining cap.  When she reached
into her pocket, the soldier in the corner
started forward, machine gun raised.

"It's only lipstick, see?" Eliza crooned, then
proceeded to apply the silvery pink shade to
Julia's lips.  "Damn, I wish I had my compact. 
You're too shiny."  They'd been relieved of
their belongings at the airport, as well as
searched thoroughly.

Julia looked into Eliza's worried gaze, stilling
her mentor's shaking hand with a cool touch.
"It'll be okay, Eliza.  Don't worry."

Eliza searched her gaze for several agonizing
seconds.  Just as she opened her mouth to speak,
the telephone buzzed.

"Sir?  Yes, sir," the secretary hung up and
faced the women.  "You may go in now."  She
gestured at the massive mahogany doors.

"Let me do the talking," Eliza said.

No problem, Julia thought.  May as well get used
to it.

The stench of cigarette smoke burned her
nostrils.  He stood with his back to the door,
supremely confident in his security, admiring
the landscape of scattered street lights laid
out before him.  Julia strained to pick out
familiar landmarks, but could find none.  It
wasn't surprising; there would be no more light
creeping up the Jefferson Memorial, no lamps
bathing Lincoln's seated figure in an eerie
glow.  Those were things of the past, men of the
past.  The future didn't include monuments to
the fallen.

Laura closed the door behind them before moving
to his side, one jeweled hand coming to rest on
his arm.  Julia couldn't make out her whispered
words, nor read her lips.  The only light in the
plush office came from a single lamp on a paper-
strewn desk.

The Appointing Authority turned at last, his
eyes narrowing in the hazy glow from the lamp. 
"Come into the light."

She and Eliza started forward.

"Not you," he barked at Eliza.  "Just you."  He
nodded at Julia.

On shaky legs, she slowly walked toward him,
stopping when she heard his gasp.

"My God," he breathed.  "It's uncanny."  He
walked around the desk and took her hand in his. 
It was all she could do to stifle the flinch. 
"Julia, isn't it?"

Julia nodded, her face expressionless.

The old man fingered the silky hair that hung
around her face.  "Is this natural?" he asked
Eliza, not looking away from Julia's sky-blue
gaze.

"I think so, sir.  But even if it isn't, I'm
sure it will be no problem to touch it up -"

"Her chin is too broad.  Same determined
stubbornness, but too wide nonetheless."

"We can fix that, sir," Laura suggested.

"No, it's not good if she's too perfect.  We
tried that before, with disastrous results."

Laura nodded in agreement, falling silent once
again.

"The eyes are the same color, though almost
oriental in shape.  Was your mother a geisha, by
any chance?"

Julia remained mute.  It wasn't her place to
speak, not anymore.  He smiled at her timidity,
and faced Laura.

"She'll do.  Prepare her, Laura.  I want her
ready by seven this evening.  That gives you a
little over fourteen hours.  Can you do it?"

Laura nodded, although Julia was sure this man
didn't care if his madam could handle the rush
or not.  His orders were law; she'd better be
ready by seven this evening or heads would roll.

He returned to his contemplation of the
Washington skyline and lit another cigarette. 
From the far corner of the room, a lone figure
emerged and approached him, dismissing the women
with a cold glare before murmuring something to
the man at the window.

Julia paled and barely managed to stifle the
gasp that burst from her.

She knew this face, had seen it in some of her
worst nightmares before the Invasion.  Its hard
planes and angles reminded her of the
Frankenstein monster, making her cringe with
horror even in her dreams.  She could still hear
its flat voice, feel its arm choking her,
holding her in place while a trade was made
years ago on a Virginia bridge.

Could this be why the Appointing Authority
looked hale and hearty?  Did this shape-shifting
alien have the ability to heal like Jeremiah
Smith had?  God, maybe she'd been wrong these
past months.  Maybe Cancerman hadn't needed Mul
-

Don't think, don't think, she told herself.  He
may be able to read your mind.

She backed away quickly at Laura's insistent,
"Come."

Laura didn't have to tell her twice.

As soon as they were out the door, Eliza
breathed a sigh of relief.  "That wasn't so
hard."

Laura flashed an impatient look at the woman and
moved ahead of her, taking Julia by the arm. 
"You may choose a maid, if you wish.  A
companion, of sorts.  Someone to keep you
company when your services are not needed."

Julia paused before the elevator, facing Laura. 
"I choose her," she said, nodding toward Eliza. 
"May I, mistress?"

Laura threw disgusted look at Eliza before
answering sweetly, "Of course, my dear. 
Anything you want, just ask, and it will be
yours."

Except for my freedom, Julia thought.

Eliza was so happy, she could hardly contain
herself.  "Thank you, Julia," she whispered into
her ear as they boarded the elevator.  "Thank
you.  You don't know how much this means to me."

"You sang for me," Julia replied simply, as if
it had been the greatest gift in the world.  She
stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirrored
doors, unblinking.  Her heart cracked at the
beauty... but it wasn't her.  She would never be
herself again.  "That's all I care about."



End Chapter Four