He recognized the distant wail of a siren and discreetly let
himself out the back entrance to the building, peering around the
corner as the police arrived at the front, brandishing flashlights as
they surveyed the damage done to the office.
"Make the connection," he prayed. "A suicide, a break-in, all in
less than twenty-four hours. Make the connection, dammit."
He could faintly hear one of the uniformed officers speaking to
a colleague. "Must have really been desperate to get out of
something," he muttered, "killing himself, burning his records—damn,
I wonder what he was doing."
"Probably drugs," the other one said, in reply. "You know what
these rich doctors are like."
"Yeah," his partner agreed. "Probably. Okay, let's call this in."
"Dammit!" Alex swore under his breath, then turned the corner
for his car. "Mulder, where the hell are you?"
He called Scully from the car.
"Did you find anything?"
"What I expected to find—nothing. They cleaned the office out,
Dana. Records, files, tapes—everything's gone. And now, so's Dr.
Hanson. Fuck!" he said, in desperation. "The body count is piling up,
and we don't have a clue where Mulder is."
"Alex, we'll find him."
He nodded his head, suddenly feeling very tired. "How's Beth
doing?"
"About as well as can be expected. She's scared, but she's
holding herself together. A family trait, I'd say." Alex smiled into the
phone. "What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know. I need to think. I feel like is something is staring
me right in the face, and I can't see it."
"Well, don't worry about Beth. She can stay here tonight with
us. Just don't disappear yourself, ok? I want to hear from you."
"Don't worry, Dana—I got over disappearing when I left the
X-Files."
She gave a snort. "Yeah, me too. We'll have to find Mulder a
nice desk job."
After he hung the phone up, he leaned heavily against the
steering wheel. When we find Mulder, he thought, I'm going to kill
him. Then, I'll fuck him till he goes insane. Then we'll find him a
desk job.
He started the car and headed in the direction of County Road
6.
Beth lay in bed, utterly unable to sleep, but unwilling to get up for fear
of waking her hosts. Walter had been tight-lipped and angry when he
got back from the Bureau; Beth had discreetly excused herself, to let
them have some time alone, even though she was dying of curiosity.
She switched on the bedside lamp and reached over the edge
of the bed for her purse, pulling out a small leather-bound book. She
opened it up and turned a few pages, finally stopping at the entry she
had made directly after her last therapy session:
'I'm remembering, but everything seems unreal to me. Why
does this still feel like someone else's life? Why can't I remember
what happened to me?
'What happened to me?'
She picked up a pen and started to write on a fresh page:
'Everyone's disappearing around me. Fox is gone, Dr. Hanson,
even Alex's ex-wife. I didn't even know her, but I feel like we're all
bound together somehow. And if that's true, is everything happening
because of me? Or does it mean that I'm next?'
She lay back with her head on the pillow, resting the book on
her stomach. Fox, I need you.
There was nothing left there—only tire tracks that mixed anonymously
with all of the other ones that had gone past all day. The scene had
been cleared hours ago—the car towed, not even a trace of police
tape left to indicate that anything ever happened.
The warehouse was the same. There were so many stains on
the floor that it was impossible to distinguish which one might have
been caused by Juda.
Juda. Jesus.
I can't think about this. I'm sorry, Juda, but I can't.
He knew that she understood. She always understood him
better than anyone else ever did, better than he did himself. She
always knew what he needed, what he craved, when he was
unwilling to admit it to himself. Their marriage was sham from start to
finish—a cover made in desperation when a job had been going
terribly wrong—but he had made an attempt at it. It was important to
him, once, that it look real, that it become real. He wanted to want
her, and love her, and have her be his wife. She laughed at him.
"Alexei, I love you dearly, but you're a boy." She twisted a lock
of hair down over his forehead, and kissed him softly. "If you were a
man—" She shook her head. "No. Even then, it wouldn't be enough.
And I wouldn't do that to you."
He hadn't understood her then, but she was right. It was easy
to slip away, and to start a new life, and to forget, as much as you
can ever forget anything. He could make himself forget her.
"Mulder. Where are you?"
He felt his control slipping away. He wanted to crumple himself
into a ball and scream, rage, cry out—anything to feel something
other than the blank terror that overcame him. If Cancerman were
here, it would all be simple. He'd simply kill the son-of-a-bitch. There
was no question.
But it wasn't Cancerman, not this time. It was all simpler and
much more difficult than that, because he didn't have a clue what was
going on.
"I just have to think. That's all. Something is here, and I can
find out what it is. I just have to think."
He circled around the warehouse again. There was moonlight
streaming in through the many shattered windows. It was almost
peaceful to be there, where Mulder had been—if Mulder had even
gone there at all.
The call. There must be some record of the call. No, that
would have been taken care of already.
The apartment...
He turned the car into their spot in the garage and walked up to
the apartment. He pulled his gun from its shoulder holster and eased
through the door, clearing the entire place before he turned the lights
on. Then he turned on a small transistor radio, and slowly and
methodically made his way through the apartment, checking electrical
fixtures, phones, appliances. When he was finished, several hours
later, he had a neat collection of tiny surveillance equipment piled on
the kitchen table in front of him. He doused each and every piece in
water in a small plastic dish, covering it carefully. He wanted to
smash them all, but didn't, laying his head on the table and staring
sightlessly at the innocuous collection of metal and wire swirling in
the water.
Dana watched her husband pace around their bedroom. She waited
for him to speak.
"I still don't know what the hell they're doing. I don't even think
that they're doing anything to find him." He shook his head. "For all
we know, they're behind the disappearance."
"But why would they do that now? Why wait so long after the
arrests, and the trial?"
Walter shrugged. "Payback? Cancerman's friends didn't all
die with him, and we didn't manage to lock them all up, either. Some
of them slipped by us, and maybe they've just been waiting for a
chance at vengeance."
"But why now? And why get rid of Juda?"
"According to official InSec reports, she was a terrorist, working
for a militant faction in Afghanistan. They've found papers linking
her to some high-level terrorist acts in Europe."
"And you don't believe that's true?"
"I don't believe any of it. If it was true, and they knew it and
still let her into the country, it would blow the lid off of the anti-
terrorist section."
"That would explain why they lost all record of her movements
after she arrived."
He nodded. "Exactly."
She paused a moment. "Dr. Hanson's dead."
"Beth's therapist? How? When?"
"They found the body today. The papers said it was a suicide.
Alex doesn't believe it, though. He said the good doctor's office was
ransacked, and all of Beth's records were taken."
"Jesus." He sat down heavily on the bed. Dana took his hand.
"We have to find him, Dana. And we have to face the fact that we
may be the only ones looking for him."
"Do you think he's dead?"
"I don't know." He hugged her to him. "I really don't know."
She sniffed his jacket. "Since when have you started
smoking?"
He looked at her.
"Oh, no. Not again. We can't do this again."
He put an arm around her. "No, we can't," he agreed, grimly.
"And we won't." The promise in his voice made her feel strangely
safe, when she thought she should be overcome with a sense of
dread. It was the same sort of promise that always made her think of
Mulder, and she knew this was just one of the reasons that she had
fallen in love with this man.
There was no reason at all why he didn't sleep in any one of the three
bedrooms in the apartment, except for the fact that they've made love
in each of them. And in the bathroom, on the kitchen table, in the
linen closet. Almost everywhere, in fact, except on the couch.
This couch that they've always tacitly reserved for snuggling
and necking and watching basketball and bad infomercials. They'd
never made love there, so that's where Alex slept.
He told himself that it was because it's beside the phone, even
though his own cell is ever-present. The sleep that he was able to
capture is barely worth it, just barely more than nothing—but enough
to push him forward into another day.
It's sacrelige what he needs, what he wants, what he can't
have. He should be looking for Mulder. Mulder—who's probably in
some cage somewhere, or a ditch, or a hospital bed, or a cell—
Mulder who's beaten or broken or dying or dead. He can't help it. He
needs it. He needs Mulder.
And if he can't have him, he'll have the only thing that he can
bear.
His hand snakes down and opens his fly, unbuttoning his jeans
and pushing them just far enough down that he can free his cock,
which has been so hard for so long that he's sure it will never soften
again. Just thinking of Mulder, just being in the same house that he
was in, just imagining that mouth on him, being able to still smell him,
makes him hard, and horny. The shame of that need washes over
him, but he can't ignore it anymore. He can't ignore it and go on.
It's been weeks since he's been away anywhere on business.
They've never gone more than three days without making love.
Mulder's only been gone for—he steals a glance at the time on the
vcr—fuck, less than twenty-four hours. He's so hard that he can't
help touching himself.
They've had phone sex a couple of times, but Alex kidded
Mulder that he had too much respect for his phone to ever use it
seriously in such a way. Mostly it was just a tease, although the
sound of his voice could make him come. The shy, quiet quality, the
telling pauses, those lips— Dammit.
He reached in, feeling the heat of his erection. It's too much.
One touch and he'll be gone. One touch...
He can close his eyes and pretend that it's Mulder's hand on
him. He can pretend that Mulder's in the corner, watching him,
licking his lips, urging him on, pushing him over the edge. And it's
Mulder who licks the semen from his fingers, bathing each one of
them with his tongue, taking each deep into his mouth, fucking his
mouth with those fingers.
And none of it is nearly enough. It's only enough to ease him
into unconsciousness for a few minutes.
The phone, when it rings, sends him sprawling off the couch
and onto the floor.
He answers it without thinking.
"Mulder?"
"Probably not the one that you're expecting." Beth's voice
reaches out to him over the line. "I need to see you, Alex."
He checked his watch. "I'll be there in half an hour."
She paced around the kitchen. "It's me they want, isn't it?" she said,
finally.
"Beth—"
"Alex, what has he given up for me? What sort of a life could
he have had if it weren't for me?"
"None of that was your fault."
"It wasn't his fault either, but he took it all on anyway. All
of it." The hysteria rose in her voice and escaped as a strangled laugh.
"Even the stuff that his parents wouldn't take on."
"And if anything happened to you, do you honestly think that it
would be easier for him?" She was quiet. He took her arms in his.
"Beth, if it wasn't for you, I'd never even have met him."
"Alex—" All of the grief came pouring out of her.
"Shh," he soothed. "It's okay."
She gathered herself together after a while. She felt as limp in
his arms as he felt inside.
"What do you think is going on, Alex?"
He considered what he could tell her. A cleverly constructed
set of lies occured to him, but in the end he decided against it. It
wouldn't do any good to lie to her now.
"I think you're right," he said, simply. "I think it is you."
"God." She closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them
again, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and asked,
"What?"
"It doesn't make any other sense. There are a lot of people
who might have wanted Juda dead, starting with those that she
worked for. And there are a lot of people who've wanted to get rid of
Mulder. I'm sure Dr. Hanson had his demons, too. But all three of
them—Beth, the only thing that ties them together is you."
She said nothing, so he continued. "When I met with Juda the
last time, she mentioned you." Beth glanced at him sharply. "I think
that she knew who took you, or, at the very least, why you were
taken."
"The people you worked for—"
He shook his head. "Nothing is as simple as that, Beth.
Everything is carefully crafted. Everything is a cover-up. I think we
were getting too close to finding out what happened. You were
remembering, when there had never been any indication before that
you would. They probably have had you under surveillance since
you arrived at the orphanage as a child."
"I knew it! I knew the sessions were a bad idea! I wanted to
stop them, but he wanted them so badly. He needed to know, Alex,
and I couldn't say no."
"I couldn't have, either." He took her hand in his. "He's very
stubborn when he wants something. There's nothing that any of us
did wrong, except to forget who we're dealing with. We all thought
that it was over when Cancerman died, but that was just a small part
of a huge conspiracy." He laughed bitterly. "I sound like Oliver
Stone."
She smiled fleetingly. "I don't know how to believe any of this."
"It becomes second nature, after a while."
"What do we do now? What can we do?"
"I think we may have to wait for Mulder to find us."
"You think he's alive?"
"He is," Alex said, firmly. "He's alive and he's going to come
back." Dana came out to the kitchen a little while later. "Hi."
"We didn't wake you, did we?"
"No," she shook her head. "I couldn't sleep."
"Walter?"
"Like a baby," she smiled. "He thrives on this stuff. He doesn't
sleep this well when nothing's going on." She poured herself a glass
of water and sat down beside them. "So, what's up?"
"We were just talking about Fox," Beth said.
"Any news?"
Alex shook his head. He glanced at Beth, then turned to Dana.
"They bugged the apartment."
"Do you think that's how they knew where Mulder was going?"
He shrugged. "Right now, I'm not even sure who did it. Juda
warned me about a few things 'back home', but InSec has more
detailed information on Mulder's movements than anyone at this
point, right from the time of the disappearance." He sighed. "We got
too comfortable, Dana, and forgot who we were dealing with."
"Well, Alex, there wasn't really any reason to think that we
were dealing with anyone anymore."
He shook his head. "No. We never get out of this. We just get
lazy and think we're out." He stood up.
"Where are you going?" Beth asked.
"I have a feeling I know a few people who are up at this time of
night who may just be able to help me with a little package that's in
the car."
Dana smiled at him. "You want me to come with you?"
"That might be a good idea. I know they'll be a damn sight
happier to see you than they will me."
"Agent Scully," Byers said appreciatively, opening the door. "Or
should I say Mrs. Skinner, now?"
"Scully's fine," she said, stepping into the room. "Why did I
know you'd all still be up?"
"We're always up," Frohicke said with a shrug. "What'd you
bring us, Alex?"
"Just a few toys I found lying around the apartment." He
uncovered the dish.
"Aw, Alex, you didn't have to drown them." Byers started
pulling the pieces carefully out of the water. "Hm. German stuff."
"German? I thought Japan was the big exporter for goverment
surveillance equipment," Scully said.
"You think this is government?"
"You don't?" Alex asked.
"Not ours," Frohicke said. "Unless they went shopping in the
last couple of days and forgot to tell us." He grinned. "No chance.
This isn't expensive stuff, although it packs quite a punch,
quality-wise. Whoever wanted this was not the type to spend eight
hundred dollars on a toilet seat."
"Which rules out the American goverment."
"Pretty much."
"Damn," Alex said. "I was sure Thompson was in on this
somehow. I could feel it."
"That's not to say he's not working with someone else," Langley
said, walking into the room. "There is such a thing as playing both
ends against the middle."
"Yeah, I've heard of that," Alex said, drily. "Is it traceable?"
"Unlikely. You can get this stuff over the internet these days. It
could have come in from anywhere. We can put out some feelers,
but I don't think there's much chance of getting anything conclusive."
"Well, thanks anyway, guys. You can keep that stuff, if you
want it."
"Thanks, Alex. We'll add it to the collection."
When he and Scully had gotten back into the car, he pounded his fist
on the steering wheel. She looked at him in concern. "We're getting
farther away, Scully, instead of closer. I should have listened to Juda
when she told me about Beth. We've all been drawn into this little
family drama, and we were caught totally off-guard for Mulder's
disappearance."
"You think Beth's reappearance was orchestrated deliberately
to happen when it did?"
"Absolutely. Juda said her reappearance was 'expedient' for
them. I thought she meant that they were getting Mulder involved so
that I could help her without being found out. But now I think they
were getting us all involved so they could get rid of Juda and the
doctor, and Mulder, with a flick of the wrist."
Scully leaned back in her seat. "So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"I do. You're going to get in touch with one of your old
contacts." He looked at her. "Juda couldn't have been the only one,
Alex. If she knew something about what happened to Samantha,
then there's someone there who knows even more. And while you're
doing that, I'll get access to Mulder's car, and the murder scene
evidence. If there's anything to find, I'll find it."
"They'll have cleared it all, Dana."
She shook her head. "They may think they have, but there's
always room for human error." She squeezed his hand. "We're
going to find him, Alex. He's going to be fine." After a minute's
pause, she asked, "Have you called Sarah?"
He groaned. "God, no. She'll think I killed him."
"Do you want me to do it?"
He nodded. "Would you?"
"Yeah, I'll stop by first thing in the morning, before I go in."
She glanced at her watch. "Which is almost now. I'd better get home
before Walter thinks I've disappeared, too."
"I'll drop you off." Before he started the motor, Alex reached
over for a hug. Startled, she hugged him back, feeling the tension in
his body.
In a house twenty minutes away, Sarah Mulder picked up the
telephone receiver, drawn out of a restless sleep by the insistent
ringing. "Hello?" she said, still a little groggy.
"Mom?"
Sarah
by Mona Ramsey
The plush medical offices had been ransacked; from all evidence, it
was a professional job. Alex sighed—there was nothing significant
left to be found here—all audio and videotapes gone, all important
records disappeared. They hadn't even bothered to be neat about it
- things were strewn all over in an attempt to make it appear just
another burglary. It was so much the way it had been before that he
almost refused to believe it.
