He did not see the long arm that reached in toward him but
cried out as the hooked claws caught the straps of his gun
harness, wrenching him away from the floor. Fear-induced, sweat
soaked fingers lost the uneven battle and he slammed into the
ceiling a scant few inches from the monster, barely able to
breathe through the searing pain as the broken bone in his leg
moved unnaturally. The bony alien claw whipped sideways and
with a scream of agony his body was wrenched upwards through
the hatchway. His leg slammed against the edge and, as merciful
blackness descended, his last coherent thought was that it did
not matter anyway for searing light and heat filled the
elevator shaft followed almost instantaneously by a deafening
boom... in a few microseconds it would be dead and so would he.
It was the smell that brought him back... the smell of blood...
of death. He opened his eyes blinking rapidly but the dimness
remained.
Where the hell am I?
He panted as the pain receded. He could recall the fast
approaching mangled mess of Jedburg's splattered body... impact
after falling 500m had a habit of smashing a head open like an
over-ripe melon. He gasped, his eyes widening in fear as the
memory of those claws hooking into his clothing came back. It
had moved so fast... ripping him through the hatchway and
leaping through a set of open elevator doors. The last thing he
remembered was the explosion just before the elevator hit
bottom. How had it survived? And more to the point... how had
he survived? His knowledge of explosives brought a partial
answer... the force of the explosion would have been outward at
ground zero, probably destroying the doors at the base, the
ones he and Jedburg had originally entered through, and then
vertical, contained by the walls of the elevator shaft. Even
so, the creature must have taken some of the blast and must
have sheltered him from it with its own immense bulk but none
of this answered his question... where was he? He added another
thought, more terrifying because the answer was not one he
dared contemplate.
Why am I still alive?
Baines tried to move but, apart from the one arm, he seemed
trapped. He groped around beneath him, frowning as his fingers
lighted upon something that was both soft yet unyielding. He
strained to reach out farther, groping in the semi-darkness but
pulled back suddenly as his brain placed what his hand had
encountered... matted hair and cold, dead flesh. The jerking
action sent spears of pain lancing through his chest and he
cried out, struggling to maintain his hold on consciousness as
his senses started to spin. He stilled himself, dragging his
breathing back under control as he tried to reassess his
injuries before making any further attempts to move. He felt
stickiness on the side of his head. Further probing brought
another gasp of pain as his fingers found the ragged edges of a
gash. The nausea he felt was probably a sign of concussion...
his head had slammed hard enough into the top of the elevator
to dent the metal. He laughed as he remembered one of Mancini's
comments about him having a thick-skull. At least it had
stopped bleeding.
How long does it take for blood to congeal? How long have I
been here?
It seemed as if only minutes had passed since he had started
that final ascent from the top of the elevator. He remembered
the exhaustion that tugged at his over-exerted muscles, he
remembered making the decision to dump the heavy backpack and
climb the remaining 300m with just the bare essentials... and
then he remembered those first frantic moments when the
creature had opened the elevator doors just below him. He had
fired at it several times before it had grabbed him by the boot
on his right foot, ripping him from the cable. He had felt his
leg snap by the creature's casual flicking action but it had
lost its grip and he had fallen to the top of the elevator,
smashing his head against the metal but fear had kept him
conscious. He had dropped back through the hatchway before the
monstrous creature could grab him again. But how long ago had
that happened? And where was he? And why was he still
alive?
Muzzy thoughts continued to run in circles around his
throbbing head. He tried to take a deep breath to clear away
the cobwebs... and regretted the attempt. At least one rib was
broken from where he had slammed into the ceiling of the
elevator, its sharp edges now grating with each and every
breath. Apart from that he was fine... he felt hysterical
laughter bubble its way upward.
Fine? My leg's broken, my ribs are broken, I'm probably
concussed... and I'm trapped in what looks like an air duct
with an creature from another dimension that's already
slaughtered the Colonel and several others.He squeezed his
eyes shut tight.
"I've gotta get outta here before it comes back."He angled his
head to glance down over his shoulder and sobbed as he
recognised the long 'golden' hair of the pretty Doctor, the
remainder of her eviscerated body barely visible in the dim
light, but he violently pushed the sight from his mind and
concentrated on surviving. His hand reached down and
encountered something slimy yet hard encasing his lower body
and left side, holding him in place. He pulled at the substance
that enwrapped him but to no avail. He was trapped like a fly
in a spider's web, thankful only that the casing had hardened
to form a cast about his broken leg, the jagged edge of bone no
longer free to grind as it bulged outward against the skin of
his leg.
A scrabbling sound echoed along the air duct and moments later,
a large bulk filled the tunnel, blocking out what little light
filtered along from that end of the shaft. Baines froze as it
reached towards him and cried out softly as its bony claw
scraped across his tattered, and heat seared, tank top. He
barely managed to muffle a cry of agony as the creature grabbed
the dead woman's body and pulled it out from underneath him,
claws dipping into the open abdomen to scoop out the remaining
soft tissue before it ripped off an arm using its powerful jaws
and sharp teeth. It 'sat' beside him, its immense size
squatting down in the large duct, massive head feeding only
inches from his own. A sideways tear at the dead flesh
splattered remnants of blood and gore across the young
lieutenant's face, the renewed sob of fear bringing the
monster's attention back to its live prey. He held his breath,
desperately trying to still the shudders of pain, fatigue and
terror as the slavering mouth rubbed against his blood-soaked
cheek but then it turned away. The sound of bones crunching
filled the air as it continued on with its grisly meal but the
Soldier had finally given way to the twin torments of pain and
absolute terror, his mind folding in on itself for protection,
drifting back to happier childhood memories... The dimly lit
duct disappeared to be replaced with golden rays filtering
through the overhead foliage of greenery. He was running
through the woods, dappled sunlight falling across him and his
playtime companion until they burst into the open. A long
stretch of wild green grass interspersed with bright clusters
of white and gold... daisies and buttercups... led towards a
sparkling blue pool. They ran side by side, glancing across at
each other, eyes intensely green, glowing with the joy of
youth, mahogany hair, streaked with golden highlights by the
strong summer sunshine, flying out behind them. So alike. Feet
left the ground and they sailed through the air before
plummeting towards the blue water. A shock of coolness
surrounding them as the water closed around their small bodies
and then they surfaced, shaking water from hair and face,
laughing and splashing...
He resurfaced once more into near darkness and silence but the
scrabbling sound that suddenly started to echo along the duct
brought fresh fear that this time it had returned for him. He
closed his eyes willing himself back to that bright summer day
when the air lay heavy and sweet with the scent of honeysuckle.
As his mind receded once more the remainder of his
consciousness flickered against the sound of human voices
raised in horror... more live victims, more meat... he let go,
not wanting to know if Zunoski had also been captured... and
drifted back to where his brother waited for him on that last
beautiful day.
This time it was a constant, steady beep that brought him back.
A new smell assailed his senses, the smell of antiseptic. His
eyes remained closed as his mind crept along the nerve endings
of his body assessing aches and dulled pain in his leg and
chest... bearable pain. Eventually he risked cracking open one
eye. The dim air duct had gone and he was lying on a bed in a
beige and white coloured room. Flicking his eyes to the side he
followed the sound of the reassuring beep and found a monitor.
Green eyes flicked upwards and followed the small clear tube
from the plastic sac down to his arm where it ended, taped to
the back of his hand. Hospital. He was in a hospital... and he
was alive.
"You're awake. Welcome back to the land of the living." The
soft feminine voice floated towards him and his blurred
eyesight made out the matronly figure of a woman dressed as a
nurse.
"Water.." His eyes opened wider in shock at the weak croak that
issued from his dry and rasping throat. Moments later a straw
was placed in his mouth and he sucked greedily on the pure
liquid. With a sigh he let go.
"Better?"
He nodded, eyelids drooping as fatigue overtook him. Another
voice, deep and most definitely male, joined the woman's but he
had neither the strength nor the inclination to fight the
drowsiness that lulled his mind and body back to sleep.
"I'm sorry, Sir. He awoke for a moment but..."
"That's alright, nurse. Was he lucid?"
"Yes, he asked for water. I gave him some."
"Good. At least he's shown some healthy signs. Let me know when
he wakes up again."
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you up to having visitors, Lieutenant?"Lieutenant Baines
shifted until he was seated upright against the firm pillows
and glanced towards the doorway. He smiled in greeting as his
team-mate stepped inside.
"Zunoski!"
The man reached his side in a few steps and embraced him with
one arm, the other still bound in a sling.
"Hey, buddy."
"Easy there!" he protested as damaged ribs complained at the
sudden pressure."I'll leave you two alone to talk." The Doctor
stated as he left the room. Baines watched him go and then
turned to his friend.
"They debriefed me yesterday which is probably why I'm allowed
visitors today. Trouble is, no-one would tell me much of
anything in return... except you and the Docs killed
Summerfield." Baines looked at his friend closely. "What
exactly happened after..."He paused. Zunoski sat down on the
chair by the bed and took a deep breath. Although more than two
weeks had passed his memory of that creature were still crystal
clear, his nights still filled with terrifying images. He
slowly recounted the events following the explosion in the
elevator shaft. How Shepherd had described Summerfield as a
ripe poppy filled with seeds... how they had tried to trick
Summerfield into going into the transit chamber.
Summerfield had seemed barely rational and had shot him before
collapsing. With shock they realised the creature was right
behind him, protecting him but, fortunately for them, Shepherd
arrived and blew the creature to smithereens. Baines listened
while Zunoski described how Shepherd had dragged Summerfield
into the transit chamber using a drop-kick to force the man
back onto the platform only moments before his body burst like
a ripe seed-case. The alien spawn had been caught in the duo-
tangent vortex and sent back to the desolate landscape in the
dimension the creature had originally come from. He paused.
"Just afterwards, while the vortex communications channel was
still open there was a visual—from the one they called
Marshall. You know, the woman they originally brought back. She
spoke directly to Dr Casserly... called her by name and asked
to be brought home. It sorta confirms what you said, about it
watching us. That thing was intelligent."He stopped, looking
away as guilt spread across his face.
"Once the alien contamination was considered over, the computer
discontinued with the radioactive sweep sequence. Within
quarter of an hour the clean-up crew arrived. I was barely
conscious. I was lifted out with the others so I wasn't there
when they found the bodies in the air duct... but I saw the
report."
Zunoski halted, his face pleading for understanding when he
revealed that they had presumed him dead so no-one had bothered
to search for him."If I had known... I'd never have left you
there, man. You do know that, don't you?"Baines smiled and
nodded. Yes. He knew that. Zunoski would never have willingly
left anyone to that fate... and especially not a friend... and
they were friends despite the occasional 'letting off of
steam'. Too many shared experiences where each had to rely on
the other to watch his back had ensured that.
"You know, most of the bodies had been half-eaten. Some were
facility staff who hadn't managed to get out of the area before
the doors sealed them into their laboratories... easy pickings
for the creature... and McShane... it must have gone back for
his body..."He bit his lower lip.
"I'm sorry about that Doctor. She seemed a nice kid."Baines
nodded, lips pursed together in painful memory of the young
woman he had flirted with only moments before her death, bile
rising in his throat as he remembered his last sight of her in
the air duct, her blood-matted blonde hair barely hiding the
open but unseeing eyes that had gazed up at him in forever
muted terror.
"But what I'd like to figure out is why it killed all the rest
yet it took you alive."Baines looked away. It was still hard to
talk about, let alone think about, the carnage in that tunnel.
Harder still to push away the terrifying sound of bones
crunching and snapping in those powerful jaws just inches from
his own face, however, Zunoski had given him reason to wonder
at that same question. He remained silent for a moment while
his mind processed all the new information. When he finally
spoke his voice was soft and Zunoski had to strain to hear him.
"I have a theory, based on what you just told me. It was
intelligent. I think it was keeping me alive to use as another
host for its spawn just in case Summerfield was destroyed
somehow."
"Sounds pretty gruesome... but plausible." Zunoski paused and
smirked at the recumbent man deciding it was time to change the
subject, to move away from the nauseating thought. "So, how's
it feel to be a hero, Lieutenant?""You mean you didn't get a
promotion outta this, Private?" Zunoski raised his eyebrows in
surprise.
"I didn't do much more than my job. I didn't merit anything
more than a Purple Heart."
Baines looked at his friend, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
As far as he was concerned he could say the exact same thing
but he had at least attempted to lead what remained of the team
after their leader, Colonel McShane, was killed. His decision
to blow himself up along with the creature must have counted
for something even though it had failed—not that he was
ungrateful for being alive. He could only be thankful that Dr
Shepherd had been around to help mop up the mess.
Zunoski broke the silence.
"So when do you get outta here?"
"Another week, then I'm on light duties until the cast comes
off." He nodded towards the encased leg that was raised in a
sling. "What about you?"
"I've been transferred to Commander Henderson's unit. Seems he
lost several men during some incident in Wisconsin. Heard
rumours of UFO's... woooooohhh" Baines laughed politely but
after what they had just experienced he couldn't dismiss
anything so lightly any more.
"When do you leave?"
"Day after tomorrow... although I'll be on light duties until
this shoulder is fixed." He smiled suddenly. "Say, why don't we
get together once you're back on your feet... call in a little
of that leave we're due. Head for the night-clubs... and get
ourselves laid."Baines grinned in response.
"You've got yourself a deal."
In the two months that had passed since the incident with the
Nexus Project Baines had worked hard to get himself fit both
mentally and physically. He spent long hours in the gym and
with the Physiotherapist rebuilding the strength in his legs;
pushing himself to the verge of collapse... only stopping when
his shaking muscles could no longer support the weights he was
trying to lift. The exhaustion kept most of the nightmares at
bay as his mind and body succumbed to fatigue but he had to
admit, if only to himself, that he was still plagued by the
nightmare image of that creature with its saliva-dripping jaws
and fetid breath only inches from his own face.
He had tried to reason with himself that the chances of meeting
up with the creature again were virtually zero and decided to
tackle the problem from a different angle. To this end he had
forced himself to crawl through dim, dank sewers hoping to
shake off this new-found fear of dark, enclosed spaces and to a
great extent he had achieved this yet, despite all his effort,
the Army Psychologist had still refused to recommend his return
to active duty... and he was getting bored and frustrated by
the lack of action.
The message found on his answer-phone earlier that day had come
as a welcome surprise... at the time. He sighed and glanced
around him. Although he had been back on his feet for a few
weeks it had taken until now for them to arrange a furlough at
the same time and in the same city... but where was Zunoski?The
club was noisy and dark, music thrummed and thumped in a steady
hypnotic rhythm. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since he
had found himself in such a place yet he, Zunoski and Mancini
had haunted such establishments during their time as team-
mates. Mancini had nicknamed him 'the Hustler' as he always
managed to find the right words or actions to ensure that he
left with a willing woman on his arm. He turned his thoughts of
Mancini aside before they could coalesce around those last few
moments of his team-mates life. Tonight he wanted to be free
from the images of death and destruction.
Baines looked over the
edge of the balcony. He was on the tier above the dance floor
and turned his attention to watching one of the paid dancer's
gyrating inside her 'cage'. He glanced at his watch for the
sixth time, his lips pursing in annoyance. They had agreed to
meet here twenty minutes ago but the man was nowhere in sight.
He had scanned the room several times but could barely make out
anybody despite the lack of hot, sweaty bodies that would
normally be filling the club beyond the legal limit. An
insistent bleep came from his pocket and he pulled out the
cellphone expecting it to be his errant friend. Moments later
was deep in conversation."I wasn't ignoring you. No. Of course
I saw you, I just didn't recognise you, that's all"He smiled,
Georgia Simmons was the last person he expected to hear from
and he wondered how she had managed to get his cellphone
number. Then something she said clicked. Obviously, Zunoski was
late for a reason. Probably screwing Georgia's roommate as they
spoke. Preoccupied with trying to hear and be heard above the
heavy, throbbing beat of what passed for music he never saw the
strange woman approach but shook off the hand that touched his
in annoyance."S'excuse me, private conversation..."
He thought
the woman had moved away until he felt the hand that dropped
casually onto his as it lay on the table top. The touch of skin
on skin was electric. Frissons of energy dancing along his
nerve endings, singing through his body, igniting a slow
burning fire that spread outwards, obliterating all thought.
The cellphone slipped from his hand dropping to the floor
unnoticed. He turned slowly to face the woman. Her fingers
wrapped around his own and he found himself being led out of
the noisy club into the dark silent streets. With his brain
barely functioning on an intelligent level he followed the
woman's unspoken request and led her to his car. Some unknown
time later they were in a secluded alleyway, her hands and lips
intoxicating him, sliding over firm muscle and soft skin, his
own hands grasping and stroking her velvet flesh. Their mouths
met, open and wet, tongues battling. Hands carded through his
hair, dragging his face away as her lips bit and nuzzled down
his exposed throat. He felt her reach lower to unzip his jeans,
her fingers releasing his throbbing erection from the
restricting cloth. Moments later she was poised above him, her
hands spreading her wet nether lips through the crotchless
panties before sinking down onto his tumescent flesh. He
gasped, green eyes closing as if to shut out everything but the
tightness that engulfed him. Her mouth descended upon his once
more, devouring his kiss-swollen lips before sliding across his
cheek and down to nuzzle once more at his sensitive throat. He
sobbed and moaned in ecstasy as he felt the beginnings of his
orgasm, a warm sensation spreading outwards from his groin as
her internal muscles flexed and relaxed against his straining
erection...
The thumping on the car brought his spinning senses back to
Earth and he groaned as the tell-tale light from a Police torch
glinted through the side window. Her face turned ugly for a
moment and one, almost lucid, part of his mind wondered how he
could be so out of control with such a plain looking woman. She
left the car, straightening the mini-skirt that barely covered
her ass and walked towards the Policeman. The Cop glanced
around her, flashing the light towards him.
"You too."
He closed his eyes, groaning again and reached to zip up his
pants but suddenly the most incredible pain enveloped him. He
gasped aloud, doubling over in agony as the stabbing pain
overloaded his body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh brought
his head up and he reached out, his hand rubbing over the
steamed up window. His eyes widened as the 'woman' turned to
face him, his mind reeling at the shock of seeing... any
remaining thought was lost as the pain enveloped him completely
and he slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
It was that same smell of antiseptic that brought him back and
he opened his eyes to find a Detective seated in the chair by
his bed. The man smiled grimly. It didn't take him long to
relate what had happened. It all seemed so hazy but one thing
he was not going to mention was the fact that, for one shocking
moment, the woman had looked like a man. It was the last thing
he needed on his service record.
"Was she a pro?"
Michael Baines paused.
"She never asked for any money, in fact, I don't remember her
saying a single word."
"Would you be able to help us with a photo-fit?"
"It was pretty dark and... I can't seem to remember that much
about... any of it."
Fortunately, the Detective seemed to accept what little he said
without further questioning, mainly because the Cops had been
handed his casually discarded cellphone by the night club.
Apparently, the Barman had noticed it slipping from his fingers
but couldn't catch up with him before he had disappeared with
the strange woman. Georgia Simmons had still been connected,
her confused voice still calling his name and the Barman had,
at least, been able to pass the cellphone onto the police with
an owner's name attached. The traffic cop, who had interrupted
what had to have been the best sex of his life, had been
knocked unconscious by the man/woman but, fortunately, had not
been seriously injured. Even so, the cop couldn't identify her
either.
"We believe she may have drugged you..." The Detective paused
at the sound of the door opening. A nurse bustled into the room
carrying a small tray.
"I'm afraid you'll have to leave now. Mr Baines needs his
rest."
"Well, if you remember anything... anything at all, then give
me a call." He dropped a card on the bedside table and then
left without any fuss. Baines heaved a sigh of relief and
pushed a strand of sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.
Three hours passed in silent monotony. The TV held no interest
and he had had enough of hospitals to last a lifetime yet every
attempt to rise brought fresh pain searing through his nerve
endings. He closed his eyes, tried to raise his right hand to
brush the damp strands of hair off his forehead before
remembering the tube tapped into the back of his hand... again.
"Becoming a permanent fixture."
A gentle knock drew his attention and he watched as two more
strangers entered his hospital room. The woman was small and
delicate looking, her red hair framing her pretty face, blue
eyes fixed on his with the same scrutiny he received from the
Doctor who had treated him. The man had the most incredible
puppy-dog face... soft, full bottom lip pouting sensuously,
hazel eyes alight with an inner, expectant glow, his short
brown hair tumbling over a tall forehead. It was the face of
obsession... of someone who cared about something deeply, maybe
even cared about him.
"Lieutenant Michael Baines?"
Baines nodded his head, a thin crease across the bridge of his
nose appeared as he eyed the new arrivals.
"FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder... and my partner, Agent Dana
Scully."
The frown deepened as he wondered what the FBI could have to do
with this... unless he wasn't the first victim... He had heard
of a new drug, Ryhypnol? Something like that... they called it
the 'Date Rape' drug and he wondered anew whether he had been
drugged as the Detective suggested. It would explain a lot.
Baines answered their questions the same way he had answered
those of the Police Detective, thankful they believed him when
he told them he had only vague memories of the time after she
had touched his hand. After all, it was the truth... he,
honestly, couldn't remember leaving the club, walking to his
car and driving to that alleyway.
The FBI Agent, Mulder, frowned in frustration. Obviously the
man had been expecting something more. His gut feeling told him
that this 'woman' was someone they were searching for and he
realised that holding back on this one vital piece of
information would seriously hamper their investigation but
there was no way that a Lieutenant in the United States Army
was going to admit that he had been with a man, at least, not
on the record. FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder took another step
closer and Baines found his hands curling around the nurse call
device. If this started to turn ugly then he was more than
willing to call for assistance.
"From the top, Lieutenant. How would you describe her?"
Baines responded, cheekily, feeling his sense of humour rise
when he realised the Agent was not trying to be aggressive."On
a scale of 1 to 10; she was a kind 3. But there was something
about her."The question the female agent posed brought him up
short. No-one had asked him about the woman's touch... the
Police had assumed he had been drugged but he had not got
around to ordering a drink. Could he have been drugged by
his/her touch? He found his mind fading away into the shadows
of the past as he tried to answer but the sharpness in Agent
Mulder's voice brought him back.
"What do you remember?"
Who the hell do you...? "Nothing actually..."The tone
changed. That monotone softening into something altogether more
persuasive as Baines heard his given name fall from those soft
lips. The impersonal interview with 'Lieutenant Baines' seemed
to have come to an end.
"Try to remember, Michael..."
Baines frowned. To be truthful, he desperately needed to tell
someone what he saw when the 'woman' turned around after
flooring the Policeman but could he trust this man and his
partner? "...Something you wouldn't feel comfortable telling the
Police on the record." "But this is off the record?"
"Absolutely."
"What did you see, Michael?"
The woman's soft voice drifted across the room and he made a
decision he hoped he wouldn't live to regret.
"After she left the car... and she was fighting with the cop...
I saw her in her clothes and she looked like..." He chuckled to
himself nervously. "...She looked like a man."
The two agents exchanged a glance which Baines could only
interpret as disbelief.
"She was a man."
It was a flat statement and Baines felt, momentarily, like
arguing with Agent Scully. He knew the difference between men
and women. After all, he'd had both. He sighed softly to
himself. It really wasn't worth the effort involved... and he
felt so tired.
"Hustling in the club scene used to be so simple..."
He missed the next look that passed between the two FBI Agents;
one resigned, the other almost triumphant, but he had more
important concerns. Baines hoped he hadn't misjudged the pair
and turned his head to face the man once more, his expression
almost pleading.
"...that's off the record."
The warmth in the hazel eyes gave him some reassurance.
"Scout's honour."
After the FBI Agents had left, Baines closed his eyes. Outside
he could hear the muted voices of the two FBI agents; the man's
was earnest, the woman's sceptical... but who could blame her.
If he hadn't been there then he might have had trouble
believing this story himself.
"...I think Don Juan in there knows the difference between the
male and the female of the species..."
Baines gave a wry grin as, gradually, the argument faded into
the distance and he was left alone with his thoughts. He
pondered at the real problem... not just the male/female issue
but also how this... 'creature' for want of a better word, had
captivated him so totally. Baines frowned, the bridge of his
nose creasing anew in consternation. He discarded the idea that
'she' had been a transsexual or a transvestite. 'She' had
seemed so female even though she was nearly as tall as
himself... her soft feminine features, her curvaceous body that
his hands had mapped so greedily. He could still feel her
tight, wet warmth enveloping as she sank down upon him yet,
during that startling moment after the attack there had been no
doubt that both face and body had altered physically to a male
configuration. The hair could have been a wig but the loss of
shape in the long legs and body, the sharper angles on the face
told a different story. If it had not happened so fast he would
have believed there had been two people present wearing a
similar set of clothes.
Yes, he knew the difference between the sexes... and he knew
what he had seen.
The man drew further back into the shadows as the two agents
walked within a few feet of him but they were too preoccupied
with their argument to notice the familiar figure. The older
man took one last drag from the cigarette held casually in his
hand and dropped the butt into a nearby pot plant. Fortunately,
there had been no staff around to remonstrate with him... not
that he would have given a damn but he would prefer to avoid a
scene. He smiled grimly. In his chosen life the nicotine haze
brought some welcome relief, steeling his nerves for the
ordeals both in the past and for those in the future. Fervently
he hoped his son would never find the need to start this filthy
habit despite the increasing pressure that would be brought to
bear over the next few years.
It had not been hard to recognise Special Agent Fox William
Mulder... after all, he had known the boy all of his life...
and knowing the interest Fox Mulder paid to the strange and
paranormal, he knew he shouldn't be surprised to find the boy
interviewing the man he had come to see. Ever patient, he
waited a little longer until he was certain the two FBI Agents
had left the floor, and then proceeded to the room.
Another knock brought Michael Baines back to the present and he
watched as an older man entered. The man smiled pleasantly.
"Lieutenant Baines. I've been reading your personal and Service
history. Both are most impressive. The son of Russian
immigrants, fluent in English, French and, of course, Russian.
A highly trained Special Forces Officer specialising in
Computers, yet more than merely proficient with a variety of
hand-held and automatic weapons... and explosives. And it seems
you have a way of attracting extra-terrestrials."
He paused, dramatically, taking in the stunned expression on
the tired face.
"I have a proposition for you that could make a difference in
the fight for the future of the Human Race."
Michael Baines pursed his lips, his green eyes blazing in
indignation and confusion.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Forgive me. My name is William Mulder."
Encounters
by Tarlan
Looking up through the open hatchway Baines could see the
creature staring down at him, its powerful jaws open revealing
a row of spiked teeth, saliva crawling up its face as the
elevator plummeted towards the bottom of the shaft. He grimaced
in fear and pain, desperately fighting to maintain his grip on
the edge of the floor hatchway. With renewed determination that
he was not going to die alone he reached across and pushed a
detonator into the small mound of C4 that was stuck to the
floor. He flicked the primer switch then gazed down through the
lower hatch at the fast approaching bottom of the shaft, too
afraid to look back up to see if the creature would get to him
first. Forcing his eyes to remain open, he counted away the
last seconds of his life in the free-falling elevator.
