Chapter 4---Continued from Chapter 3

Mulder sauntered up to the check-in counter at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas
and shot the clerk a brilliant grin. Without lifting her eyes from the 
computer screen, the platinum blonde with too much eyeliner demanded:

"Name?"

"Last name Clinton, first name Bill," he answered breezily, hefting his heavy
duffel higher on his shoulder. The clerk stared at him for a moment until she
decided that he was serious and entered the name into the computer.

From beside him he heard Scully scoff softly. He turned to her and stared,
deadpan. She cocked her head in a familiar way and lifted her eyebrows,
the corners of her mouth turning upward slightly, completing the bemused
expression.

"Here you go, Mr. Clinton." The clerk handed him two swipe cards. "Third floor."

"Non-smoking?" he asked casually, for Scully's benefit. To his delight, she
laughed quietly.

"Of course."

As they retreated into the sanctuary of an empty elevator, Scully nudged his
elbow. 

"I thought we agreed that next time *I* got to pick the names," she said in
mock-annoyance.

"Hey, you snooze, you loose honey," he countered, punching the button for 
the third floor.

"Just please tell me my name isn't Hillary," she groaned jokingly.

"Nope. Oprah," he told her as the elevator rang for their floor. She rolled her
eyes and stepped out, dragging her heavy duffel behind her.

Their entire lives were in those bags. They ditched most of the clothes at the
Roswell apartment, taking only what they needed to get from one stop to the other.
Scully had been fairly obstinant about leaving all of her nice things behind, but
Mulder had insisted. She knew it had been the right decision, but at that moment
she yearned for her soft robe and slippers, luxuries he had kindly informed her
that they couldn't afford to bring along.

When they entered the room Mulder launched himself onto the bed, grabbing her elbow
just in time to pull her down with him. They collapsed on the pile of pillows, a 
tangle of arms and legs. She laughed happily and Mulder blew a piece of her hair out
of his mouth. They lay there for what seemed like hours, until they were both 
peacefully asleep.



Las Vegas, 10 miles.

Reyes sighed with relief. She couldn't take one more moment with Doggett in that car.
He was beginning to grate on her nerves with his immature macho-man act. *And* he had
insisted on listening to Bob Dylan the entire way. Reyes closed her eyes, hoping she
could sleep through the next ten miles.

"Monica, wake up," Doggett commanded, nudging her side. "We're almost there."

"I know," she groaned.

"No, really, that's the Bellagio, right up there," Doggett said, pointing ahead.

She sat up and stretched her arms as far as she could above her head. "I'm so *stiff*,"
she complained, massaging the nape of her neck. She could feel a tension headache
looming in her temples and wished she hadn't left her bottle of Excedrin in the gas
station bathroom back in Colorado.

After they got their room keys, Doggett and Reyes made their way to the third floor.

"Do you think they're here yet?" Reyes asked him.

"I think so," Doggett said.

"How do you know?" 

Doggett bent down and picked something up. He turned it over in his hands, then 
handed it to her. It was a package of Morley cigarettes. Doggett smiled sheepishly.

"Admit it---you guys are having a helluva time playing spies, aren't you?" Reyes accused
affectionately.

He shrugged his shoulders and knocked on the door the package had been in front of.
They could hear some shuffling around inside, and after a few moments a groggy,
disheveled Scully appeared at the door. When she opened her eyes long enough to see them
a smile crossed her face and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God," she whispered, pulling Doggett close for an embrace, and then Reyes in the
same fashion. When she broke away, a single tear trickled down her cheek. "I never thought
I would see either of you again." She wiped at her face and looked behind to see that 
Mulder was approaching.

"Mulder," Doggett said in acknowledgement.

The other man stepped forward. "Come here, big guy." Mulder opened his arms and wrapped them
around Doggett. Doggett returned the hug reluctantly, giving Mulder a strong clap on the 
shoulder as they parted. He repeated the action on Reyes.

"So where've you been?" Mulder asked, stepping back to allow them into the room. "We've been
waiting for hours."

"We took a couple of detours," Doggett explained, giving Mulder a withering look. "We didn't
want to be followed."

"Thank you," Scully said. She knew John Doggett's vigilance would pay off, even if Mulder was
skeptical. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," Reyes groaned. "A lot of junk food."

"Well, I'm famished," Mulder reported to the room. "I say we order some take-out."

He got no response, which he took as agreement, and headed in the direction of the telephone.
Just as he picked it up there was a knock at the door. 

"Now *there's* an X-File," he quipped. "The guy's at Chin's Chinese must be psychic---I didn't
even have to order, and they're already here."

"Answer the door, Mulder," Scully commanded, smiling at his joke. Doggett and Reyes were too
tired to laugh at Mulder's wit, but he always managed to cheer her up.

"Hope you didn't forget the fortune cookies," Mulder called out to the person behind the door
as he opened it. "I---"

The others couldn't see who Mulder saw, but were instantly alarmed by his silence. They all 
rose to see who it was, but the person pushed their way into the room first. They stared at
her in shock, not expecting to see anyone they knew from their old life.

"Marita Covarrubias," Scully said in a low voice. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mulder demanded of her. "Don't you know how *dangerous
this is, not just for you but for all of us? Are you crazy?"

"You'd attract a lot less attention, Agent Mulder, if you would just shut the door," the woman
pointed out, taking a seat in the nearest chair. Mulder wanted to remind her that he hadn't
worked for the Bureau in two years, but it seemed pointless. Marita Covarrubias came for a 
reason, and he meant to know what it was.

"Why are you here?" Doggett asked her.

"How did you find us?" Reyes joined in.

"What's going on?" Scully chorused.

Marita Covarrubias fixed an icy stare on all four of them. She was all business, even now, when
any professional relationship between the five was obsolete. "I'm here to help you."

"Help us how?" Mulder asked. "Last time I checked, you still worked for *them*."

"I work for only one person now," Covarrubias informed them. "And he wants to help you. He needs
*your* help."

"Oh really?" Scully looked skeptical. 

"Who is this guy?" Doggett asked.

Covarrubias looked him over once from head to toe, then inclined her head slightly towards Mulder.
It was clear that she was only willing to discuss things with him, that the message was *for* him.

"It's someone you know," she said. "Someone you can trust."

"All the people I can trust are sitting right here in this room," Mulder said. "Excluding you, of
course."

She smiled sardonically. "Of course. But I guess you'll just have to trust me anyways."

"How 'bout you say what you've got to say?" Doggett challenged. "Then we'll see if we believe you
or not."

She turned her head a little to acknowledge his suggestion, but did not look at him with her eyes.

"I was contacted recently by someone you know very well," Covarrubias told Mulder. "Someone we both
thought was dead."

Krycek's face flashed in front of his eyes. "Who?" he asked her, looking Scully in the eye. He found
no answers there; she was as clueless as he.

She smiled like a little child with a secret. "He gave me some information that you might find very
helpful."

"Does he know where William is?" Scully burst out. When the other three looked at her in a way that
said, "Be quiet, let her finish", she sat up a little straighter and lifted her head.

"You remember the SETI satellite at Aricebo?"

Mulder thought back to when the Syndicate first had the F.B.I. shut down the X-Files. He had made
his way there to find the truth, but he had come away nearly empty-handed. "Yes," he said. "I've
been there."

"I know," Marita said. "My source said that there's a laboratory nearby that, he believes, neither
the aliens nor the Syndicate managed to destroy. He says there might still be untouched research
there, something that might be helpful. The vaccine."

"But the vaccine was destroyed," Scully protested. "It hasn't been seen in years. Not since the
Syndicate was murdered by the rebel aliens."

"That's why you need to get there before the aliens do," Covarrubias said. "The aliens won't forget
about it forever. Eventually they'll discover it---you have to get there first."

"And then what?" demanded Doggett. "How much will this vaccine, which may or may not exist, help 
us get their kid back?"

"Do we even know where they're holding him?" asked Reyes.

"There are things even my source does not know," Covarrubias told them, looking directly at Mulder.
"With these people, there are always secrets. You all know that first hand."

"So what if we do get to this place, and we find this supposed vaccine. Where do we go from there?
You're leading us by a shoestring here," Doggett said. "I don't even know why we're listening to
her."

"Agent Doggett, if you don't follow my advice you'll be wasting precious time," Marita Covarrubias
exploded. "I've experienced these people first hand---I know what they are capable of. I'm not lying
to you---why would I voluntarily participate in a scheme to end your lives? They nearly ended mine.
I was a test subject for almost a year, I had that alien virus put in me. I was cured by the vaccine.
Whether or not it still exists, why would you be unwilling to look for it, on the off chance that it
might?"

"Still, you must have some clue for us as to where we might begin searching after we go to Aricebo,"
Mulder said. 

She nodded slightly and handed him a folded napkin. He took it apart and saw a map crudely drawn in
ink. "That's a map to the Nysarc Air Force Base. My source was very unspecific, but he did imply that
the secrets to Agent Scully's pregnancy are being held there."

Marita Covarrubias rose. "I suggest you start moving," she said. "I have left an unmarked grey van in
parking spot 4E127. In a bag in the back seat are forged papers for all four of you. Take the van and
drive to the U.S.-Mexico border. Get the first flight out of the nearest airport to Puerto Rico and
head up to Aricebo. Don't talk to anyone if it isn't necessary, and don't call any attention to 
yourself. If there is *any* sign of destruction at the laboratory, leave immediately. Don't contact
me---I'll reach you if I have any news."

With that she was gone. The four of them stared at each other in disbelief. 



"We traced them to Las Vegas," the mysterious man told her. "They're probably still there. You'd better
get over there, quickly."

"All right," Leigh said, hanging up the phone. She turned to the deputy. "My source said that they might
be in Las Vegas. I'm going to catch the first flight out there. Thank you for all your help." She rose
to leave, but he stopped her.

"Wait!" he called. He got up and grabbed his jacket. "I'm going with you."

Agent Leigh raised her eyebrows. "Aren't you a little out of your jurisdiction?" She tapped her foot
impatiently.

"Hey, if these people are in any way responsible for what happened to Elena and George Ruskin, I'm not
going to rest until they're found and punished," Parsons told her bluntly. "The Ruskin's were a real
part of this town, and I'm not gonna just let this go."

Leigh thought quickly. Without a partner she had no backup. Although she didn't really want to share this
case with a county deputy, she wasn't so sure about going into a potentially dangerous situation without
adequate assistance.

"Fine," she said. "But let's hurry---I don't think they're going to stay there long and enjoy the 
nightlife."



"Let me take over," Mulder commanded. Doggett looked at him dangerously. Mulder took Doggett's shoulders
and gently shoved him over, taking his place at the wheel. "You need to sleep."

Doggett slid into the passenger seat and stared out at the desolate gas station parking lot. A whole lot
of nothing spread out before them. They were already in Mexico, far enough from the border to begin 
feeling safe, but they all knew from experience that breathing a sigh of relief now would only endanger
them further.

Doggett was too tired to argue. He put his head against the window and closed his eyes. In front of his
face he saw Knowle Rohrer, projected on the back of his eyelids as if he were in a movie theatre. He 
watched Rohrer, once his friend, his collegue, being torn apart particle by particle by exposure to the
magnetite in the New Mexican rock quarry. He opened his eyes in horror, the memory throbbing in his brain
like an old bruise that wouldn't go away.

He watched the two women approach the car, speaking with their heads close together, their voices so low
that he couldn't hear them. He wondered what they were thinking, how they were feeling about this. 
Especially Monica. They had been through a lot in the past years, but somehow he felt better prepared for
the kind of news Marita Covarrubias had given them than he expected she would be. She didn't seem made 
for this sort of thing---alien invasion, government conspiracies and that sort. He felt better equipt
mentally for everything it entailed. And, of course, Scully and Mulder had been playing this sort of high
risk game for years. But Monica . . . Monica was used to the voodoo and witchcraft of New Orleans and the
tamer X-Files. Somehow, Doggett just felt afraid for her.

"Well, it's official," Reyes remarked as she and Scully climbed back into the van. "I'm never going to the
bathroom again."

Mulder snorted. "Why not?" he asked.

"You should have seen how *gross* that place was," Reyes replied, laying out on the center seat and closing
her eyes. "It was traumatic."

"I think you're being a little melodramatic," Scully said, taking her own place on the third seat. She 
propped a flat pillow under her head and attempted to get comfortable, failing miserably. She moaned. 
"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate chasing aliens?"

Mulder smiled. "Just a little longer. I promise, once we stop them from colonizing the planet and punish
all the men responsible for negotiating with them, we can buy a nice split-level in Roswell and raise a 
family."

Scully sobered, remembering William. Mulder recognized the stupidity of his jibe the minute it flew out
of his mouth and promptly clammed up, shifting into gear and pulling out of the gas station.

To lighten the mood, Reyes whined:

"Are we there yet?"

"Yeah, sure," Doggett answered in jest. "Just down the road. Didn't you see that sign that said 'Aliens
ahead, buckle up'?"

"Yeah, you laugh now," Mulder warned. "But wait until you see what's down there at the satellite. I 
have a feeling it's something big. Bigger than big."

"Like what? A buncha broken equipment?" Doggett scoffed. "I'm sorry, Mulder, but I think this trip's
gonna get us a whole lotta nowhere---how do we even know this Covarrubias woman can be trusted?"

"She *can* be trusted," Mulder insisted. "I know her well enough to know that."

"But you did say she'd betrayed you in the past," Reyes reminded him. "Given you false leads, worked
hand-in-hand with the enemy, the Cigarette-Smoking Man. The man behind it all."

"Yes, but that was *before*," Mulder said. "She's on our side, now. She doesn't want to see anything bad
happen to this planet, either. She's not in league with them anymore---she doesn't even work for the UN
anymore."

"Which begs the question, how is she getting all this classified information?" Doggett pointed out. 
Mulder had no answer, but kept staring out at the bleak path before him.

"I have to agree with Agent Doggett, Mulder," Scully piped up. "Marita Covarrubias has betrayed us
before. What makes you so sure she won't do it again? And where's all this information coming from,
Mulder? Who *is* this source that she's protecting, who's feeding her, feeding *us* all this 
unsubstantiatable information?"

"I trust her," Mulder said, looking back at Scully. She met his eyes with hers, locking them in a
stubborn stand-off. "And I need to ask you all to trust me."

Scully cocked her head questioningly, but said nothing. She was afraid of how seriously Mulder was
taking Marita Covarrubias'insinuations. She was also afraid of who her source was---she had no idea
if she could trust what the woman was saying, even know, after they had all been through so much
and seemed to finally be fighting on the same side. Closing her eyes, she tried to push all the
negative thoughts out of her mind, hoping that Mulder was right, that Marita *could* be trusted.
Almost unconciously, she began to pray. If he wasn't right, if Covarrubias was setting them up, 
then they were all in a serious amount of danger. At that moment, Scully was seized with an 
insuppressable fear for her life.



"Excuse me," Agent Leigh said as she bumped into an impeccably dressed blond woman in the casino
of the Treasure Island Hotel. "I'm so sorry."

The woman regarded her coldly, looking her up and down. When she was satisfied of something, she 
smiled, replied, "That's all right," and moved quickly away from Leigh and Parsons, who was 
standing at the side, watching the situation with a bemused expression.

"So many damn people in these places," Leigh muttered absently. "How are we supposed find Reyes
and Doggett in this mess?"

Parsons bent down to retrieve something the blond had dropped in the collision. It was a small
piece of stationary, with "From the desk of: Marita Covarrubias, SRSG" printed on the top. 
Underneath the heading were scrawled two words: "Mulder, Belaggio".

"Look at this," Parsons said hastily, showing her the paper. Leigh's eyes widened as she turned
and began pursuing the blond, who was still in sight in a remote area of the casino. Parsons was
only a split second behind her. When the blond realized that she was being chased, she began to 
run, throwing off her high heels a the first chance and sprinting fast for the parking lot. She
raced past a security guard, who regarded her suspiciously. When Leigh and Parsons approached 
him he put his arm out, stopping their passage.

"What's going on here, folks?" the guard demanded.

Leigh extracted her badge, and Parsons did the same. "Special . . . huff . . . Agent . . . 
Kirsten . . . phew! . . . Leigh, FBI," she managed to gasp out. Parsons showed his badge
eagerly.

"We're in  . . . pursuit of a suspect," Parsons explained. "I need you to use your radio to
alert all the guards at the points of exit for that woman that just ran by---blond, dressed
in a business suit, barefoot. She might be armed, so they should be instructed to be on high
alert."

"Will do," the guard said. As he did so, Leigh took off again, hoping to chase the woman down on
foot.


Continued in Chapter 4b . . .