Valediction---Chapter 3

"Mulder, what is it? Mulder?"

Mulder paced back and forth for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. "It was Agent 
Doggett."

"What did he want?" Scully looked concerned. "They know it's unsafe to call us.
How did they get the number?"

"Hey hey, stop the third degree *Agent* Scully and just listen, okay?" Mulder said 
gently, sitting down next to her on the bed. He put his arms around her and drew
her into him. She settled her head against his chest and sighed.

"What's going on?"

Mulder licked his lips nervously, but said nothing. She stared at him expectantly, her blue
eyes wide as oceans with trust and love. He didn't know how to tell her what Doggett had 
just told him. He didn't know how to explain without giving her too much hope. He couldn't
bear to see her disappointed. Scully had been hurt so many times since they met. From her 
abduction to her cancer, Emily to William, his abduction and apparent death to his 
disappearance, from the lies to the truth she had lost so much. He couldn't risk breaking
her heart and spirit again.

He sighed and rubbed her back tenderly. "I love you, Scully."

She closed her eyes. "I love you, too."

"I'm so afraid to hurt you," he confided.

"What could you possibly say that would hurt me?" she asked him. 

He took a deep breath. "Scully, I'm telling you this because you need to know. You have a
*right*, a God-given right, to know. But I'm afraid of what it might do to you if things 
don't work out the way we might want them to."

"Mulder, stop dancing around and just tell me," Scully requested.

"Doggett and Reyes think they might have come across our son." He looked at her to gauge her
reaction.

"William? They went looking for him?"

"No. The way it sounds is that there was evident involvement of the super-soldiers in a 
double murder in Colorado," Mulder revealed. "A couple that Doggett and Reyes suspect to be
the people that adopted William."

"Oh my God," Scully whispered. "They've come for him."

"Scully, don't panic," warned Mulder.

"Mulder, they're coming after him. Did John say if he's safe?" Scully's voice was anxious,
and Mulder's heart ached for her, and for himself. And for his son, who's safety he could
not promise Scully.

"They can't find him," Mulder admitted. "He's missing."

Scully's lips began to tremble, and he could tell by the taught muscles in her familiar
face that she was struggling not to cry. He drew her in closer and smoothed her hair, 
kissing the top of her head softly. 

"It's okay, Scully," he told her, his own voice breaking. He felt her yield, felt her fall
against his solid chest in emotional exhaustion. She was trying to mask the sound of her own
tears, but she couldn't hide the sobs that wracked her body. Tears began to slide down his
cheeks as well, and they mingled with Scully's on her face. She reached up to wipe them
from his face, but he stayed her hand. He had never really cried for his son. He had been
too worried about being strong for Scully. This was his right. She nodded almost 
imperceptibly and snuggled closer to him, hugging his waist tightly for comfort and pressing
her face into his chest, soaking his grey t-shirt with her tears.

"Oh, Mulder," she sobbed, squeezing him tighter. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know." It was the truth. He had no answers for her. He didn't even know what was
going on. All he knew was that Doggett and Reyes needed their help. They knew more about
the conspiracy than anyone else. They alone could divine where the super-soldiers might be
taking their son. What he was afraid of was more powerful than the super-soldiers, more 
terrifying than the conspirators---Scully's fragility. He felt as though she might break
at any time, having had to endure so many hardships over the years. He was afraid that
searching for William would kill her, and losing her would kill him.

She sat up decisively and wiped her own tears away. "We have to find him, Mulder. We're his
parents---we have a responsibility to keep him safe. I thought I did that by giving him up,
but I was wrong. Now he's alone---we can't let him become just another one of their 
casualties. We *need* to protect our son."

He pressed his lips together and said nothing, only nodding his agreement. The only problem
with that was that he didn't have one damn idea how they were going to do it. Their 
situation was infinitely precarious; the umbrella of protection that his connections and 
Cancer Man had provided had been obliterated. They needed to tread very carefully, and that
would take time, planning, and opportunity---none of which they had.

"Call Doggett back," she demanded. "Call him back. Tell him we're coming for William, and 
they can't change my mind." She looked him in the eyes, taking his face in her hands. "And
neither can you."

"I'm not going to try," he promised. "I just want you to think---"

She rose from the bed and went to the bathroom, gathering things in her arms. "There's 
nothing to think about."

"Scully, there's plenty to think about. If we are going to rescue William, we need to not 
die in the process," he pointed out. She stared at him, then lowered her eyes in agreement.
"We need to be careful, and we need to be cunning. We need to outsmart them, which is going
to be hard. We need outside help."

"So we get it."

"How?"

"We'll figure that out. Right now we can't waste any time hammering out particulars," Scully
pointed out. She put the things down and took his hand, massaging his fingers lovingly.
"Mulder, this is our chance to get our baby back, to finally ensure his safety. He could not
be safer with anyone else but us now---we know what we're up against. The people who were 
taking care of him didn't know, and it got them killed."

"I know."

"We'll find him, Mulder," she said reassuringly. "I'm certain of it."



"Excuse me?" Agent Leigh approached the front desk at the Ivory County Sherriff's Department
and raised her badge. "I'm Special Agent Leigh with the FBI. May I speak to whoever's in
charge of the Ruskin case?"

The police officer pointed to a door down the hall. "That would be Deputy Parsons. He's in
right now---that's his office down the hall, there."

"Okay, thanks." Leigh made her way to the end of the corridor and knocked on the door 
softly.

"Come in."

She entered to find Parsons bent over his desk, sifting through papers with an expression of
obvious frustration on his face. He lifted his head to see her clearly and smiled in a 
friendly, noncommittal way.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely. 

She held out her hand. "Deputy Parsons, I'm Special Agent Kirsten Leigh with the Bureau. I've
come to look into the Ruskin double homicide?" She meant the last phrase to come out as a 
definitive statement, not a question, but Parsons intimidated her just a little. She berated
herself for caring what he thought---on the judicial food chain she was one of the top bannanas,
so to speak. Regardless, the fact that she was a green agent always compromised her 
professionalism and made her feel about seven-years-old.

Parsons didn't seem to notice her self-conciousness, if only because he was in the process of
becoming hostile towards her. 

"The Bureau, huh?" he demanded. "I got news for you, Agent Leigh---your people have come and 
gone without doing a damned thing for this investigation except tying up our forensic labs
for hours trying to extract prints from a smudge on a door. If you've got anything solid that
I could use here, you're welcome to stay, but otherwise . . . " He guestured towards the door.

Leigh summoned up all her courage, took a deep breath, pulled out the chair in front of Parsons
desk and sat down, crossing her legs in a no-nonsense manner.

"Deputy Parsons, I'm afraid you have been deceived," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Pardon me?"

"Those two agents, Reyes and Doggett," Leigh revealed. "They weren't supposed to be here. This
isn't even their case---well, not technically."

"No?" Parsons took a seat himself and leaned forward. "Then why were they here?"

"Agent Reyes is my partner," Leigh explained. "Or was, until she ditched me to investigate this
case with Agent Doggett. They came here without the blessing or knowledge of the FBI, so I'm 
afraid you've wasted your time with them. I've recently been contacted by an annonymous source
with some disturbing information about Reyes and Doggett and two ex-agents with whom they have
remained in close contact."

"Which is?"

"I must admit that I don't understand everything myself just yet," Leigh said, "but I do know
that these ex-agents and, consequently, Doggett and Reyes, pose a great security risk to the
federal government and are being searched for in earnest by the military as we speak."

"A manhunt? Isn't that a little extreme?" Parsons asked, tapping a pencil against the edge of
his desk in an irritated mannerism. 

"Not in this case, Deputy. I can't quite stress enough what a threat these four agents have 
become. I believe they came to Ivory for a reason, that this case has some sort of importance
to them, and I am determined to understand what that is. I believe that such insight will lead
to the apprehension of Reyes, Doggett, and the two rogue agents." Leigh pressed her lips,
together. *Please, let him believe me*, she silently pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but may I see some identification?" Parsons requested. She showed him her badge and
he nodded solemnly. "Okay, so where do I fit in?"

"I need to know exactly what happened when you took Reyes and Doggett to the Ruskin house," Leigh
told him. "And I need you to take me there, too."

"That's a pretty tall order, Agent Leigh," Parsons said.

"Why?" asked Leigh.

"Because," Parsons explained. "The Ruskin house burned to the ground last night."

"What?" Leigh exclaimed in shock.

"Left behind no trace the house was ever there, except for ashes," Parsons told her. "Lab determined
that they must've used a fast-burning accelerant---something like rocket fuel---to get the flames 
that hot."

"You mean the fire was set deliberately?" Leigh asked. "But why?" Her mind flew to Reyes' determined
expression as she left the office at headquarters. The man in the airport had warned her that Mulder
and Scully were dangerous, but she couldn't believe that Reyes or Doggett were capable of arson. They
had seemed so upstanding to her, but she brushed away those sensations now as her fresh naivite.

"I don't know," Parsons said. "To hide the truth?"



Doggett left the gas station convenience mart with a map and a six-pack of Diet Coke, Reyes'
request. They had been driving for hours, and the trip was proving exhausting for them. Reyes' 
motion sickness had kept her up for most of the night as Doggett stalwartly piloted the car
towards their target. They were meeting up with Mulder and Scully in Las Vegas, hoping that 
bright lights, big city would hide them beneath a guise of gaudy celebration.

Reyes reached for the Diet Coke as Doggett entered the car. She extracted one for herself, then
offered one to him with a soft, encouraging noise. He shook his head and grimaced, opening up
the map and spreading it across the dashboard.

"I can't believe you drink that stuff," Doggett reproached. Under any other circumstances, his
jibe would have been affectionate and teasing, but it came out as a harsh criticism to match
his sour mood. 

"Mmmmm," Reyes murmured in response, sipping the cold drink slowly. "Sure you don't want one?"

He stared at her. "I'd rather drink battery acid," he replied in a caustic voice.

Reyes shrugged her shoulders, brushing off her annoyance at his rudeness. "Suit yourself."

He traced a thick red line with his finger to a small dot on the map. "We are here."

"The question is, where is 'here'?" Reyes asked, looking around at the deslolate wasteland 
that spread as far as the eye could see in all four directions.

"Point Springs," Doggett muttered. 

"Funny," Reyes replied, smiling, "I don't see any springs at all. Where'd all the water go?"

"Who knows?" Doggett said. "We've got a long drive ahead of us, and you're probably exhausted---
why don't you nap?"

"John, you've been driving straight for hours. Let me take over for a while," Reyes insisted.

"Not a chance. You haven't slept . . . "

"Please. You need to let someone take care of you every once and a while, you know that? You've
got to *depend* on someone sometimes, or else you'll drive yourself insane, not to mention
potentially kill yourself from all that stress. Why don't you lay back and let me drive for
a while? I promise, I'll wake you up if anything good happens," Reyes said, smiling. 

"Thanks, but no thanks," Doggett said. "The sooner we get to Las Vegas, the better, but I'm not
going to stop until we get there. So stop interfering."

"Okay, fine." She settled back in her seat and tilted her head back as if to sleep. She kept her
eyes trained on him, however, and soon mumbled, "I don't know why you're so stubborn all the 
time."

"Maybe it's because *some* people won't just let things be," Doggett answered, his voice 
rising a decible with each syllable. "Drop it, Monica, I'm serious."

"What's bothering you, John? I mean really bothering you---I know I'm probably nagging the shit
out of you right now, but I get the feeling that's being eclipsed by something else, something
serious. Tell me what it is." She put her hand on his.

He sighed. "I don't want to talk right now."

"Yeah? Well too bad. *I* do. Why do you always have to be so damn *manly* all the time---can't
you just open up for once? Tell me what you're feeling, so maybe I can help you. You never
know until you try."

He took his hand away from hers and put it on the steering wheel. She breathed deeply, getting
the message loud and clear, and closed her eyes, knowing that an answer would never come.



"Marita."

"I thought you were dead," the regal blond said nonchalantly.

"I was---dead to the world, at least. Dead to those men. The men who did those horrible things
to you," he answered carefully.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and laughed, but not in a jovial way. She 
laughed like she used to in the old days, in the times when he would tell her things she didn't
want to believe but couldn't deny, not in the face of the overwhelming evidence he often 
presented her.

"How did you find me?" From the moment she asked it, she knew it was a stupid question. If he 
wasn't dead, that meant he still had connections, which meant he could, and probably did, know
everything about her. *How* he was alive, that she was interested to know, so she let him in
and fixed him a drink.

"You want to know how I did it."

She sat down across the table from him. "I do. They were hard to deceive---even I couldn't get
away with it. Even Alex."

"You were an amateur, Marita. You were never cut out for this sort of thing. And Alex . . . 
Alex's own agendas got him into trouble. If he had just followed orders---"

"They would've killed him long ago," Marita said. "He lived a lot longer than they would have 
had him live."

"Surely," the old man answered, making a whirlpool form in his drink. "Rats know how to survive
in the most inclement of situations, you know that better than anyone."

"I like to think of myself as more of a cat," Marita replied, smiling ironically. 

He laughed. "Nine lives?"

She nodded. "So why come to me? You're right, I was never any good at the spy game."

"You're the only one left who understands," he told her honestly.

"There's Jeffrey---"

"Spender's boy? No, they've traumatized him enough as it is. Let him be."

"What do you want from me?"

"Your help."

"In doing . . . ?"

"In tracking down Mulder and Scully. In making them understand, too."

Marita's eyes widened. "I'd heard they were dead. Killed in the raid that took out Cancer Man for
good. Blown to smithereens."

"No. They're in hiding."

"How do you know they're not out of the country by now? It's been almost a year, and they aren't
stupid, you know."

"They're looking for them outside the country," the old man told her. "Mulder would have anticipated
that. No, they're in this country, so close I could reach out and touch them, but I have no eyes to
see anymore, no hands to extend. They've taken away my senses and left me useless---in exchange for
my freedom to think."

"I don't understand."

He sighed. "Neither do I."

She stared at him, expecting and waiting for an answer. He sighed again.

"The replacements have infiltrated the federal government, taking over high-level positions in all
the major bodies---DOD, DOJ, DOS---you saw one at Mulder's trial . . . they're unstoppable, and soon
they'll have taken over everything." He hung his head in dismay. "To think, we once thought that we 
could prevent this, that we could beat them at their own game. And now we've lost."

"There's still hope, or you wouldn't have come to me," Marita concluded, refreshing his drink.

"Yes, there is always hope," he said, taking a sip. "Always hope that someone will find the courage
to fight the future."

"Mulder and Scully."

He smiled. "They do seem the most adept at it, yes. I've always liked them both. Especially Mulder.
He was like a son to me."

"Tell me." She sat down and leaned in, staring at him as if the secrets of the universe were coded
within the lines and wrinkles of his old face.

"The date is set, Marita, for December 22, 2012. The final alien invasion, the moment that all of the
things you saw and experienced---and those that you didn't---were leading up to. The date we have
all dreaded. Spender tried to have me killed to keep me from telling Mulder and Scully everything I 
knew, but the aliens had better ideas. They felt that they needed me for some purpose and have kept
me around all these years. They have amazing healing powers and nursed me back to health within
days of my near-fatal injuries." He looked at her incredulous expression and smiled wanly. "I know,
it seems out of character, but they're like humans in a lot of ways. We are genetically similar, that
is why they want our earth. They are not pure evil---more automated, cynical and cold, perhaps---but
they have their moments."

She shook her head in disbelief. "And they didn't replace you?"

"No, they didn't. I was a pet to them---I had always had a soft spot for them, always hoped that we
might someday live together as bretheren and not as master and slave---and they cared for me. I might
even venture to say that they loved me, the way that they loved Cassandra Spender. They grow attatched,
you know, to certain people. Treat them well. But they keep you like an animal, caged and leashed like
a dog." He shook his head. "As an exchange for retaining who I was, I was not allowed to leave them.
They kept me locked up, so to speak, and refused to allow me outside contact. Until tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"They don't believe I can do any harm," he said. "The leader told me so. He visited me this morning
to tell me that I was free to come and go from the compound as I pleased, because they were no longer
afraid of what I know, of what I can say. They have learned how to discredit those who talk about
them well from the men who made it a science---and I will not deny that I was one of those men. They
believe they cannot be defeated, which is why I know for certain I was not followed here."

"How can you be so sure? They cannot fully trust you, especially since the first thing you did when
they let you go was come and contact me," Marita said. "Am I in danger?"

"Certainly not. You didn't tell them what you knew at Mulder's trial, and if they aren't afraid of
what I know, they certainly are not afraid of you. We're small potatoes to them now, which gives us
the advantage. We can surprise them. But we need Mulder and Scully. And we need their son."

"Why their son?" Marita asked.

"Because that boy holds the key to their downfall."

"How is that possible?"

"They're afraid of him, aren't they?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Because of the way in which he was conceived. Dana Scully was barren from the tests that they did on
here. Yet, miraculously, she became pregnant."

"I'd been told that she had been receiving some sort of artificial insemination."

"It didn't work. I had the medical records checked thoroughly."

"So how did she and Agent Mulder . . . ?"

"The normal way," the old man replied, smiling tenderly. "Love is a powerful force, Marita. You would
do well to remember that."

"You mean it wasn't the aliens who made her pregnant? Alex told me that's how it happened."

"The aliens didn't want this baby to be born. They wanted it to be destroyed. Why would they want that
if it was something they helped bring about? No, the baby is indeed a miracle, as far as I am willing
to believe in miracles, and the aliens are afraid of it. They used Jeffrey Spender mercilessly to get
Scully to give it up---they had people telling him all sorts of things, things which they knew he 
would pass on to her. I myself gave him the depressant that helped calm down William's 'special powers'
for a while, but I knew it wouldn't last forever. Now they've found him, but I don't know where they've
taken him."

"Won't they just kill him?"

"No, he's useful in some ways. They can use him to perform tests, experiment on him to discover what 
makes him so special, so threatening."

"Do you have any idea where they've taken him?"

"I might. But first things first. The old Aricebo satellite and laboratory that SETI runs has been 
continuing its research unnoticed by the aliens and the Syndicate alike. Before my unfortunate 
*accident*---" he smiled wryly "---I arranged for some samples to be sent down there. Although the 
vaccine that the Syndicate developed has been lost, along with all the original DNA samples, those
that I had transferred I believe still survive. The laboratory has been deserted for at least two
years, but as far as I can tell has not been raided or destroyed." He leaned closer to her and began
to speak in a lower voice. "I am fairly certain that the scientists working down at Aricebo found
a vaccine, one stronger than that which the Syndicate had developed. If Mulder and Scully were to
get down there, if they could get their hands on this, they might be able to use it to their 
advantage."

Marita sat still, overwhelmed by the information she had just received. "And you want me to do what,
exactly?"

"Find Mulder and Scully. Show them the way. Tell them the truth." He smiled widely. "And tell them
that Deep Throat sent you."

End of Chapter 3---Continued Chapter 4