------------------------------
A New War #7: Waiting
by Lianne Burwell
February 1999
------------------------------

"Sorry, Debi, but you're not going anywhere."

"Jen?"

Debi stared in shock at the hard-faced woman pointing a gun at her. She'd 
only known Agent Jennifer Krandall for a while, since her posting to DC. 
When she'd received her assignment, Debi had posted on the inter-office 
electronic bulletin board looking for a roommate and Jen had responded. 
She was ten years older than Debi, a friendly but private woman who 
traveled a lot for the agency and rarely discussed work. All in all, 
she'd been the perfect roommate as far as Debi was concerned.

Now she wasn't so sure.

Jen pushed her towards the couch, and she sat down with a thump. Debi's 
bag and gun were taken from her and tossed in a corner, then her roommate 
perched on the arm of the chair opposite her, gun rock-steady in her hand.

"You little fool," the woman said in a light, almost mocking tone. "You 
just couldn't follow orders. And they were so simple: Keep quiet and 
don't talk to Fox Mulder. But you couldn't even do *one* properly."

A sudden burst of anger cleared the shock from Debi's head. "Then why 
post me here?" she asked angrily. "You people can obviously control 
postings, so if you didn't want me to talk to Agent Mulder then why not 
post me to Kansas? Or Alaska? Why have me posted to the same *coast*, let 
alone the same city."

Jen shook her head, a small, cold smile on her face. "We needed you... 
accessible."

Debi's blood ran cold at that. She didn't want to consider the 
implications of that statement. At least, not yet.

"So now what?" she finally asked.

"Good question. Let's find out."

Jen pulled a cellphone from her pocket and dialed a number, then brought 
it to her ear, all one-handed, the gun never wavering. "I've got her," 
she said to whoever picked up the other end. "She was about to leave."

She waited for a few moments, listening to whoever she was talking to, 
then nodded. "Understood."

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and smiled. Debi shivered. It 
wasn't a pleasant smile.

"Someone's coming to collect us. Then, you will spend some time answering 
questions. What you told Mulder and where is he tops the list. Oh, don't 
look so stubborn. There are all sorts of drugs that will loosen your 
tongue. Trust me, talk before they turn to them. Some have some pretty... 
unpleasant side affects."

Debi glanced at the clock. Scully hadn't said when they'd meet her at the 
mall. All things considered, she didn't think she'd be able to take Jen 
on, especially since the woman was larger, better trained and armed, 
while Debi was unarmed. Her best hope at this point was that Scully would 
get worried and come after her before Jen's 'friends' showed up.

* * * * *

A knock at the door, a half-hour later, got both their attention. Jen 
got up and moved closer to the door, never taking her eye off Debi. She 
murmured something through the door and waited for a reply.

Debi held her breath and prayed. It was probably too soon to be Scully, 
but... The smile on Jen's face squashed that hope. She waved Debi to 
join her.

"Listen very carefully, Debi. This time, follow orders. You will follow 
the man out there down to the van. I will be right behind you with my 
gun in my coat pocket. One stupid move and I'll shoot you. Nowhere fatal, 
of course. Just a knee, I think. Understand?"

Debi nodded, already planning on her break. She was *not* going to let 
them take her in. She just needed to pick the right moment.

The man outside the door looked like a computer geek from Kansas. Very 
tall, with a skinny neck and a beak of a nose. Thick glasses perched on 
the bridge of his nose, giving him an owlish look. He had a smile that 
seemed to encourage you to trust him. You'd look at him and think 'he 
looks like such a *nice* young man'.

Debi wasn't thinking that.

"Right this way, miss," he said with a flourish of his hand, then turned 
and headed for the emergency stairwell.

Debi followed him down the echoing steps, looking for someplace where 
she could jump him. Or Jen. Or *someone*. She felt helpless, and she 
didn't like it.

She was still looking when they reached the garage level. She braced 
herself to run as they went through the steel doors, but a very obvious 
gun-barrel was shoved in her back.

"Don't even think about it, Debi, m'dear," was the amused comment from 
behind her. The man was headed for a plain grey van near the door, engine 
still running, when a shout stopped them.

"Freeze! FBI!"

At the sound of Dana Scully's voice, Debi threw herself to the side, 
between two cars, and ran for cover. A shoot rang out and she flinched, 
but there was no impact. In the background, she heard a van take off, 
wheels screeching.

"Debi?"

Debi breathed a sigh of relief, then stood up. The grey van was gone, and 
Jennifer Krandall was lying in a pool of blood on the ground.

"Is she dead?" Debi asked, amazed at how stead her voice was, considering 
the last half hour.

Scully crouched down and touched the woman's neck. "'Fraid so. Who was 
she?"

"My roommate, an FBI agent and probably part of this Consortium you've 
been telling me about. I think she was supposed to keep an eye on me. 
They were going to take me someplace where I was going to be questioned 
about where Mulder was. What are you doing here?"

Scully motioned her towards yet another van that was waiting. "I've been 
hanging around Mulder too long. When you weren't at the mall, we didn't 
bother waiting for you to show. We just headed straight here. We only got 
here a couple minutes ago."

Debi shuddered at how close it had been. "Thank God," she whispered, her 
knees finally deciding to go rubbery on her. "Now what?"

"Now we head for a safe-house and hole up until Mulder calls again. Then 
we make some better plans. It looks like this time there's no turning 
back."

Debi nodded, and climbed into the back of the van. The man behind the 
wheel gave her a friendly nod, but she was to busy trying to keep from 
falling apart to respond.

As they drove away, the only thought that came to mind was that she 
wished she could have gone back upstairs to get her bag. She pushed that 
regret away. Scully was right.

There was no turning back.

* * * * *

Mana was nothing like what Mulder had expected. He'd seen black-oil 
aliens, greys, shapeshifters, and humanoid types with their eyes and 
mouths sealed shut, but what he saw before him now was a tiny woman with 
dark hair pulled back into a bun and an expressionless face. Her attitude 
was completely no-nonsense, and in a way she reminded him of Scully.

Mulder fought down the urge to call his partner to share his enthusiasm 
with her. If she was right about the Consortium pulling their protection 
and actively hunting him then a phonecall would be far too risky. He'd 
wait a day or two before contacting her again, going through the Gunmen 
this time.

Chairs had been brought into Vincent's library and the room was filled 
with people. Mulder noted that most of the tunnel-dwellers who chose to 
come to the meeting were older and had grim expressions. Mulder waited 
until Blackwood had finished explaining the events of the last few days 
to Mana and the others. Then it was his turn. He explained about the 
Consortium, and his run-ins with them. The Consortium was still trying to 
cover all the bases, cooperating while trying to come up with ways of 
defeating the aliens. Whichever would gain them the most power and 
influence when everything was over.

"So," Mana said. "What, precisely, do you want from me?"

Mulder looked over at Blackwood, deciding to let him field the question 
since he already had a prior... relationship with the woman.

"Anything that we can use. How much equipment was left behind with the 
majority of the Mothren left Earth?"

Mana tilted her head to the side, giving her a slightly quizzical look as 
she considered the question. "Most of it," she finally said. "The main 
equipment was so heavily adapted to fit alongside Earth technology that 
there was no point in taking it with them."

Mulder's ears pricked up at that. He wanted to ask all sorts of questions, 
but limited himself to the most practical. "Would that equipment be able 
to detect other alien technology, by any chance?"

"Yes."

Mulder felt a grin build up. "Our main problem has always been that we 
didn't know *where* the aliens were based," he told the room in general. 
"If Ms. Mana's equipment can tell us where those bases are by locating 
their alien technology, then we'll be further ahead than we've ever been. 
Where are those sensors? Can you show us how to operate them?"

Mana looked over at Blackwood, and he nodded. "There are several 
locations where we can scan from. One is beneath this city. There is a 
tunnel that connects this system to where the base is."

Mulder immediately popped to his feet. "Let's go!"

Vincent spoke up for the first time since Blackwood had started talking. 
"Tomorrow. It's late, and everyone is tired. The machines will still be 
there in the morning."

Mulder wanted to protest, but realized that Vincent was right. Most of 
the people in the room looked half-asleep already, including Blackwood. 
Mulder sighed.

"First thing in the morning, then."

Vincent nodded, then asked one of his people to take them to the guest 
rooms where they could sleep.

* * * * *

Scully rolled over and sat up, finally giving up on sleep. Even without 
the stresses of the day, she would still have trouble sleeping on the 
couch. That was Mulder's preference, not hers. However, the couch was 
too short for Debi to stretch out on, being several inches taller than 
herself, so Scully had taken the couch and let Debi have the bedroom.

After the attempts on herself and Debi, there hadn't been many options 
open to them. They'd finally settled on the apartment that she and Mulder 
used for their meetings with Krycek. Their link to the apartment was 
buried as deeply as the Gunmen could manage, which was pretty deep. With 
any luck, they'd be safe here until Mulder contacted them.

Things were getting a little crazy. Well, crazier than usual, that was. 
They'd barely been in time to prevent the Consortium from kidnapping 
Debi. Scully didn't want to think about what would have happened to the 
kid if they'd been a few minutes later.

Kid. Scully snorted at herself. Debi was an adult, and a Quantico graduate 
and not *that* much younger than herself. Sometimes, though, she felt 
older than her years. Her abduction, nearly dying of cancer, finding and 
losing her daughter and all the other stresses that had gone with her 
tenure as Mulder's partner had left her feeling ancient.

But she wouldn't have changed a thing. Somehow it still felt like it was 
worth it in the long run, despite the pain.

From the next room, she heard sounds of movement, then a cry. After long 
exposure to Mulder, she recognized the sounds of a nightmare when she 
heard it. Pulling on a robe, she headed for the bedroom.

Debi was deep in the grip of whatever nightmare was disturbing her sleep. 
Her thrashing had pushed back the covers, and tears were running down her 
face.

"Colonel... noooooo..."

Scully sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully reached out to touch 
the other woman. You never knew how a sleeping person would react to 
being woken.

"Debi," she said gently. "Wake up. It's just a dream."

Debi, still asleep, pushed the hand away. "Ceto! Look out!"

"Debi!" Scully said a little louder, wondering who Ceto was. "Wake up." 
This time, she shook the shoulder nearest to her, and Debi's eyes flew 
open.

"Scully?" came the shaky question.

"It's all right. It was just a dream."

In an instant, Scully had her arms full with the girl, who was crying in 
deep gulping sobs. Scully held her, rocking back and forth, until the 
sobs died down. Finally, Debi was still.

"Sorry," she said, pulling away from Scully. "I shouldn't have fallen 
apart on you like that."

Scully gave a snort. "Why not? In the last week or so we've turned your 
life upside down. I'd be surprised if you *didn't* fall apart at least 
once. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Debi chewed on her lip, and looked in every direction except at Scully. 
"The dead."

Scully blinked. "What?" But Debi didn't seem to hear her.

"So many dead. Norton. Ironhorse. Ceto. Jennifer. All my friends die." 
Debi turned to Scully, finally. "You shouldn't be around me. Everyone 
dies."

"Not everyone," Scully pointed out. "Blackwood, your mother. I'm sure 
there are a lot of people you know who haven't died."

"They all do, sooner or later," was the bleak reply.

Then Debi lay back down, her eyes shutting. "I'm so tired of death," she 
said, then turned away from Scully.

Scully waited a few minutes, but Debi seemed to have gone back to sleep.

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to deal with this. Mulder, she knew 
inside and out. She knew exactly what to do to jolly him out of one of 
his black moods, how to make him laugh. Debi she didn't know well enough 
yet.

Scully stood up, and headed back out towards the couch. At the last 
moment, she swerved and headed for the kitchen. There was milk in the 
fridge. Maybe a glass of warm milk would help her sleep.

All they could do now was wait. Wait for Mulder to call. Wait for the 
opposition to find them. Wait.

Scully sighed. She wanted to talk to someone. Anyone.

No. There were three people she *really* wanted to talk to. The child in 
her wanted to hear her mother say that everything was going to be all 
right. The agent in her wanted to talk to her partner, exchange those 
jokes that they'd used for years to keep each other from falling apart. 
And the part of her that wanted someone else to tell her what to do 
wanted to hear AD Skinner's voice, to give up responsibility to someone 
else.

But she couldn't. This time there was no one to pass the buck to.

She poured the heated milk into a mug and headed back to the couch. It 
was going to be a long night.


TO BE CONTINUED