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A New War #4
Picking Directions
by Lianne Burwell
December 1998
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"We've got company."

Three simple words, nothing special about them, but they combined to 
create an effect on the room like a dozen cold showers and too much black 
coffee. Everyone was suddenly wide awake. Outside the window, the flash 
of light repeated, almost too faint to be seen, but too bright to be 
natural.

Alex looked over to see Debi reach for the light switch. "Don't," he 
snapped, and she froze. "They already know that we're here. Kill the 
lights, and they'll know that we know about them. It might force them to 
move faster."

She nodded. Alex turned to Blackwood. "I don't suppose you have a back 
way out of this place."

The older man snorted. "Of course I do. This way."

He headed for the room with the generator, everyone following behind. 
Alex and Mulder took up the rear, guns out and ready. Alex could already 
hear the sound of a stealth helicopter, which mean that it had to be 
practically on top of them. They didn't have much time.

Harrison moved around the generator and pushed at a table sitting against 
the wall. It tilted over, part of the floor going with it. Alex smiled. 
"Paranoia. Gotta love it." Harrison glared at him.

"I've had friends killed. I'd be long dead too, if they had known where 
to find me," he snarled. "Thanks to you, now they've got their chance."

"Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean that they aren't out to get 
you," Alex replied. He felt a flicker of guilt. It did look like they'd 
lead the hunters right to the man. On the other hand, they'd wanted to 
convince him to work with them. Now he didn't exactly have a choice.

Like it or not, Harrison Blackwood had rejoined the war.

* * * * *

The trapdoor turned out to lead to an underground tunnel leading away 
from the cabin. It was cramped and damp and dark as hell. Mulder 
shuddered, remembering other similar experiences. Prison cells in Russia. 
Buried boxcars in Arizona. If this kept up, he was going to develop an 
acute case of claustrophobia.

Then a hand touched his shoulder, warm and comforting, despite the gun 
that it still held. Mulder relaxed. Strange how Scully was the only 
partner he wanted, but Krycek was the one who actually seemed to 
understand him best. At least *Krycek* had never tried to have him 
committed. He shrugged his shoulder, signaling that the message was 
understood. The hand disappeared.

He was a little nonplussed to find that he missed it.

The tunnel seemed stretch on for miles, finally emerging in the woods, a 
good distance from the cabin.

"Now what?" he asked. "Our cars are back there, and I don't think we're 
going to be able to get to them."

Harrison shook his head. "I keep a spare, well hidden. Just in case."

"Like the tunnel," Krycek said in an almost admiring tone. "I *like* you, 
Blackwood."

Mulder froze, a flash of... something running through him. It was almost 
like... No. He wasn't going there. So what if Krycek liked Harrison. It 
certainly didn't affect *him*.

Harrison set off through the woods confidently. Despite the near pitch 
blackness, he seemed to know exactly where they were going, almost as if 
he could see in the dark. Everyone else followed as best they could, 
since he obviously wasn't going to slow down for them. They could either 
keep up, or be left behind.

They had only been moving for a few minutes when the sky lit up and a 
roar filled the air. The shockwave from behind them knocked them off 
their feet. Mulder landed face-down on the ground. The explosion could 
only have been the cabin being destroyed. This was serious. The enemy was 
usually a lot more subtle than that.

"Damn." The soft exhalation was right into Mulder's ear. It was the first 
moment that he realized that he hadn't just been knocked flat by the 
explosion. Someone else was also lying on top of him, holding him down. 
Someone who sounded remarkably like...

"Krycek?" There was a grunt of affirmation. "I'd like to breath, if you 
don't mind."

"Sorry Mulder." Krycek rolled off of him, but they stayed down. 
Surprisingly, he actually *did* sound sorry.

They all stayed where they were, trying to hear any sounds of pursuit. 
After the sound of the explosion faded away, the forest was unnaturally 
quiet. No insects. No night birds. No sounds at all.

Then there were shouts in the distance, moving closer. Mulder frowned. 
They weren't speaking English. In fact, they weren't speaking any human 
language that he could recognize. Mulder held his breath and waited. This 
could be the end of his glorious quest for the truth, he told himself 
sarcastically. Killed in the New England forest, face down in the dirt 
while turning blue from oxygen deprivation.

The voices stopped getting closer. Then, miraculously, they started to 
move away again. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief, echoed around him, and 
slumped. This was the sort of night when he couldn't help thinking that 
he was getting too old for this.

"Time to move again," came Harrison's voice from the darkness. "Dawn's 
coming, and we want to be well away from here before the authorities 
arrive."

Mulder winced, as he pulled himself to his feet. He ached enough that he 
even accepted the helping hand from Krycek. Harrison pulled Scully and 
Debi to their feet. Then they set off again.

* * * * *

The first faint gleams of false dawn were starting to show when they 
reached the parked van. It was right where Harrison had left it, covered 
with an extra large tarp in a clearing. Mulder and Krycek helped him pull 
the covering off of it, and they all climbed in.

Harrison pulled out the set of keys from their hiding spot, and breathed 
a small prayer. The god of idle cars were obviously smiling on them, 
since the van started on the third try. A quick check with Debi told him 
which route her group had used. He headed in a different direction. There 
were a million back roads in the area that had never made it onto a map. 
With any luck, they might be able to get out of the area without being 
stopped.

Debi. He still couldn't believe that she had led the Feds to him. The 
child that he remembered would never have done that.

But she wasn't that child anymore. She was an adult and a Fed herself. 
And she was a fighter. All those years ago, she had been just a kid, and 
they had tried so hard to protect her. She had so obviously resented 
that. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that she wanted to fight this time.

But why had she dragged *him* into this? Why couldn't she have left him 
alone, like he wanted? A hand crept up to touch the picture that he'd 
slipped inside the heavy flannel shirt that he'd put on as a defense 
against the cool night. The picture of himself and Paul that he'd taken 
away from the nosy one, Mulder. It was the only thing that he'd been able 
to save. Everything else was gone, along with his home. Harrison's face 
crumpled as he resisted the urge to moan his pain.

Why couldn't they have just *left* *him* *alone*?

* * * * *

Alex sighed, his eyes starting to burn. It was mid-afternoon and they 
were finally starting to approach Washington. They'd taken an even *more* 
circuitous route heading back than they had on the way to Blackwood's 
place.

After a few hours of driving, he had traded off with Blackwood. The van 
was a standard, and while driving a standard with an artificial arm was 
awkward, it wasn't impossible.

In the back, Scully and Debi were still asleep. Mulder had been awake for 
less than half an hour. Alex had trained himself to do without sleep, but 
he was coming to the end of his endurance. Someone else was going to have 
to drive soon.

Blackwood hadn't slept, either. He'd dozed a little in the passenger 
seat, but his dreams looked about as restful as Alex's. He'd whimpered 
and thrashed, then come awake with a gasp. He hadn't tried a second time. 
Now he was staring straight ahead, muttering to himself.

Finally, Alex couldn't stop himself. "What?" he snapped.

"Hmm?" Blackwood blinked.

"You've been talking to yourself for the last hour. What is it?"

Harrison frowned. "Something's bothering me." Krycek rolled his eyes. Of 
*course* something was bothering him. "The people who were searching. 
There was something familiar about them."

"What?" Mulder asked. "Searchers? The voices? The language?"

Blackwood smacked his forehead. "Of *course*. I've heard the *words* 
before."

"Was it the Mothren language?" Blackwood shook his head.

"No. That's more guttural. This was more..."

"Like a gurgling," Mulder said, his interest showing as he woke fully.

"Exactly!" Blackwood said. "And I'm sure that I've heard it before. But 
*where*?"

Blackwood opened up the glove compartment and started pulling stuff out. 
Alex watched with one eye, amazed at the amount of *junk* that appeared.

"Hah!" Blackwood shoved everything back into the glove compartment, 
keeping only... A tuning fork? Alex looked over at Mulder, who just shook 
his head. Blackwood ignored them.

He rapped the tuning fork against dashboard and held it to his ear. Eyes 
closed, Blackwood slowly moved the vibrating metal from next to his ear, 
around his face until it was held in front of his eyes. Then he repeated 
the process.

Alex closed his eyes for a second, then asked. "What are you doing?"

"Focusing." Blackwood said, not stopping the repetitive motion.

"And?" Mulder asked, shushing Alex when he would have made a biting 
comment.

"It's an old memory. Before the end of the war. Something other than the 
Mothren. But related."

Alex listened as the man worked through it. Mulder was fascinated. He 
could see it in the man's face. It figured. They find someone just as 
brilliant as Mulder, who believed in aliens, and he turns out to be just 
as *eccentric* as Mulder.

"I've got it!"

Alex glanced over. The man was actually grinning. For the first time, he 
looked like the old pictures of Harrison Blackwood. It was like he was 
coming alive before their eyes.

"It was a few months after we started the project. There was this android 
-- except that she was a little more than an android. She was *hunting* 
the Mothren. She helped us, saved our lives. Anyway, she said that she was 
from some sort of other dimension. When she was injured, she contacted her 
home dimension to be transported back. The language that they were 
speaking tonight *sounded* the same as the one she used while 
communicating with her own people."

Alex cringed inside. This was getting *really* out of hand. "Extra-
dimensional androids? I think I liked body-stealing aliens from another 
planet better." Harrison ignored him.

"But she helped us. Why would her people being hunting us now?" He said, 
mostly to himself, the sudden burst of energy obviously fading.

"Individuals don't always follow their organization's plans," Mulder 
said. "After all, just look at us. Or maybe they had an agenda that 
involved helping you then, but no longer."

Like the Consortium protecting Mulder, then abandoning him. Alex still 
hadn't figured out why they'd done that, or why Mulder was so important. 
Still, when the Consortium had deliberately destroyed Mulder's faith in 
his quest, Alex had done his best to restore it. He'd almost been too 
late. Mulder had actually come within a hair of killing himself.

Alex shuddered at the thought. He wasn't going to let *that* happen again.

* * * * *

When Krycek pulled over to the side of the road, everyone was awake.

"All right folks, time to decide the next move," he announced. "We can't 
just drive into Washington with Blackwood. Too many people would be 
watching."

"What do you suggest?" Harrison asked. Despite the lack of sleep, he was 
feeling remarkably awake. More awake than he had in years.

"You said that some of the Mothren decided to stay on Earth, while the 
rest left. Do you know how to contact them?" Mulder split his attention 
between Harrison and Debi. Harrison gave a slow nod.

"I know how to find Mana," he said.

"All right, then," Mulder said. "Scully, I'll go with Harrison to find 
this Mana. Can you cover for me at work?"

"Not for very long, Mulder," she said. "Skinner is going to smell a rat 
if you don't show up Monday morning."

"Tell him I'm taking a vacation."

Scully snorted. Harrison was starting to get the feeling that Mulder was 
the type who didn't have much of a life outside of work.

"I better go home too," Debi said. "They've obviously been watching me 
for years, so if I just disappear, they'll come looking." She sounded 
scared, but determined.

"Okay. Krycek?" Mulder turned to the last member of the group. Krycek was 
the one that Harrison was having the hardest time trying to pin down. The 
young man was hard, pragmatic. But the way he looked at Mulder. In a way, 
he reminded him of Paul.

"I'll come with you."

"No." Harrison ignored the way that the young man glared at him. "We're 
going to need more people involved." He pulled a piece of paper and pen 
from the messy glove compartment and wrote a memorized address on it, 
then handed the paper to Krycek.

"John Kincaid. If he isn't there, they'll know how to contact him. Tell 
him to come find us at Mana's place."

"And he'll just believe me? I doubt he's *that* stupid."

He was right, Harrison realized. A complete stranger? "Tell him..." 
Harrison frowned. "Remind him of the night at the Purple Ostrich, when I 
told him about the shelter."

Krycek snorted. "The Purple Ostrich? You're joking, aren't you?"

"Nope. Just tell him."

"If you say so. All right. There's a bus station a half-mile from here. 
Scully and Debi can call for cabs."

"And we'll see you later," Mulder concluded.

"Wait a minute. Where are you two *going*?" Scully asked.

"Better that you don't know," Harrison told her. "You can't tell anyone 
something you don't know."

She glowered at him, but a glance from Mulder quieted her down. She 
checked her pockets to make sure she had enough money for two cab-fares.

Harrison gave Debi a quick hug. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, 
Harrison, but you needed it," she said in his ear. She was almost his 
height now.

"Maybe," he said, not wanting to agree with her, but not able to honestly 
deny her statement.

"And when you talk to mom..."

"I think you'll be seeing her before too long," Harrison said. "Watch 
your back."

"You too." She turned and walked to where Scully was waiting. The two 
headed off to find a phone to call for a cab.

Krycek climbed out, then looked over at Mulder. "Watch yourself," he said 
briefly, then jogged off. Mulder watched him go. There was a mix of 
emotions on his face that Harrison found almost amusing. It would have 
been more amusing if he hadn't been so jealous. The detachment that he'd 
built over the years was being torn away from him, and he was powerless 
to prevent it.

"All right," the man finally said, climbing into the front seat. "So 
where *are* we going?"

"New York City."

TO BE CONTINUED