CHAPTER 9 

When they arrived at the monastery's complex, there were cars at the 
main gate -- state troopers' cars. The priest drove past, not even 
slowing down, as Doggett and Reyes looked over their shoulders. 

"That was close," the father Tomás noted. "I'll have to be more 
careful next time." 

"Next time?" Doggett asked incredulously. "How often do you do 
this?" 

The priest smirked and kept driving in silence. 

Monica looked over her shoulder and said, as much to herself as to 
John, "I hope this is just about the car..." 

John put his arm around her shoulder and said soothingly, "If they 
are looking for us, they'll be moving on and we'll be even safer." 

"But what about Gibson?" Monica asked, her forehead wrinkled with 
worry lines. 

"He's in the hands of pros, it seems," John smiled, pleased that she 
was worried about the boy. "They'd have to get past Mother Catherine 
and Sister Martha to get to him." 

She smiled back at him and settled into his arm. "It's just a matter 
of time before they catch up with us... whoever they are." 

"Whatever they are," the priest interjected. He pulled the van to a 
stop by the side of the road and leaned over his seat. "Those state 
troopers are okay... I know them," he chuckled. "I know them very 
well... I hear their confessions." 

"Why am I expecting a 'but' here?" Doggett asked. 

"So far the aliens don't know about us... about the Via Sub Rosa... 
about the network of telepaths around the world," the priest paused 
for Doggett and Reyes to absorb this information, then added, "a 
network that can defeat them." 

"But?" Reyes inquired. 

"But it's a matter of time, as you say. They have found out about 
the caves... so they know about the magnetite." He noted the agents' 
surprised faces and confirmed their conclusions, "Yes, we have known 
about the supersoldiers and their weakness. But we did *not* know we 
were sheltering a collaborator," he said pointedly. "Now everything 
is different. We can't be passive anymore. ...we need your help as 
much as you need ours." 

"What about Agents Mulder and Scully?" Reyes asked. "Are they okay? 
Did they survive?" 

"I don't know," he answered, shaking his head. "But Agent Mulder 
doesn't know what I've told you. He knows more than he tells, 
but..." 

"But what?" Doggett said with annoyance. 

"But he doesn't have what it takes..." he looked over the rim of his 
glasses, checking Reyes' reaction. 

"You're asking us... to join you?" Reyes asked. 

The priest nodded. 

"Now, wait a goddammed minute," Doggett shouted. "We belong to the 
FBI! Yeah, things are a little... strange right now, but we're 
federal agents, not clergy! We have jobs!" Monica jabbed her elbow 
into his ribs. "Wha--?" he exlaimed. "This isn't *us* Monica -- 
this isn't what we do... this isn't the way we operate. Stealing 
cars? Hiding from state troopers?" 

"Breaking convicts out of jail?" she answered, her arched eyebrows 
framing questioning eyes. 

Doggett sighed. "I dunno, Monica. What have we come to... What 
next?" He shook his head, refusing to look up into either her or the 
priest's eyes. 

Monica and Tomás exchanged glances, then Tomás reached out and laid a 
hand on John's shoulder. "It's not a matter of asking you to join 
*us* John... you are already one of us. It's not a matter of asking 
you to join the fight... you are already fighting." 

John looked up. "So what is this about?" 

"This is about cooperation. Joining forces." Tomás turned more 
completely in his seat, casually curling his legs underneath 
him. "This is about you helping us... us helping you..." 

"You've already helped us, and we appreciate it," Reyes said 
soothingly. 

John shot her an angry look. "So now we owe you? Is that it?" 

"No," Tomás assured him. "You owe it only to yourselves... and to 
humanity." 

"No pressure!" Doggett sneered. 

"John," Monica said calmly. "We have been fighting against people 
inside the FBI, and whoever it is they are working for... and where 
have we gotten doing it alone?" She paused as John bowed his head 
and studied his hands. "John," she reached for his chin and turned 
his face to hers. "We can't do it alone. Even if we could find 
Mulder and Scully, there would just be four of us... five with A.D. 
Skinner... against how many?" He clenched his teeth and grimaced his 
silent acknowledgement as Reyes continued. "We need them, John. We 
need all the help we can get.... Knowing what we know... finding out 
the truth... that's just a start...." 

John closed his eyes and nodded. "You're right... but..." He opened 
his eyes and studied the priest's face. "How do we know they're 
legit? How do we know they aren't really working against us?" 

Monica sighed softly then whispered, "You know. And you know *how* 
you know." 

He looked into her eyes and she held his gaze. He sensed, rather 
than saw, her trust in Tomás, and he had to admit to himself that he 
had always trusted her judgment, even when he couldn't admit why he 
trusted it. 

"Are you with us?" Tomás asked hopefully. 

Doggett nodded, and Monica smiled broadly. "Thank you for your 
offer," she said graciously. 

They returned to the monastery in time for Mass, which Tomás attended 
with them. They sat at the rear of the tiny chapel as Mother 
Catherine read from her massive Bible: 

"Give counsel, grant justice; 
Make your shade like night at the height of noon; 
Hisde the outcasts, betray not the fugitive; 
Let the outcasts of Moab sojourn amoung you; 
Be a refuge to them from the destroyer..." 
(Isaiah 16:3-4) 

The inhabitants of the rear pew heard quiet footsteps and turned to 
see Gibson, dressed in a donated KISS T-shirt. He sidled down the 
pew and sat next to Monica, who put an arm around his shoulders. "I 
was worried about you," she whispered. 

"I know," he whispered back.