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A New War #18: Wakeup Call
by Lianne Burwell
August 1999
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It was nearly morning before Mulder had managed to doze off in the chair 
next to Krycek's bed. Then a faint groan brought him back to full alert. 
Suddenly, Krycek's eyes flew open and he tensed up.

"Don't move," Mulder immediately ordered. "Dr. Fraiser put a lot of 
effort into sewing you back together. It would be very ungrateful of you 
to rip out her nice stitches."

Krycek looked confused for a moment, but quickly regained his bearings. 
"You okay?" he asked, then winced.

"Shut up. I'm fine. But what the *hell* were you thinking? You could have 
been killed!" Krycek's expression went mulish, but he kept quiet. Mulder 
sighed. "The soldier who shot you was a Consortium spy. He's locked up 
right now, and the base is sealed."

"Why?" Krycek started to say.

"Shut up," Mulder told him again, smiling slightly. But the smile 
disappeared quickly. "The Consortium has put out shoot on sight orders. 
You, me and..." He stopped. "Shit! Scully!"

Mulder got to his feet and turned towards the door, then stopped. He 
glanced back at Krycek, chewing at his bottom lip. He reached down to 
squeeze Krycek's hand. I need to call Scully. I'll be right back, though. 
We... need to talk, I think."

Krycek nodded, a small and slightly triumphant smile spreading across his 
face.

Mulder headed out the door. There was a guard outside the recovery room, 
and a second waiting for him. "I need to talk to Hammond," he told his 
bodyguard. The man, whose name he didn't even know yet, just nodded and 
lead the way.

At this rate he was going to be able to memorize the layout of the entire 
base, he thought as the man led him to Hammond's office using yet another 
new route. He wasn't sure whether it was a deliberate attempt to keep him 
off-balance or just that the base was so complicated that everyone had 
different preferred routes.

It didn't take long to reach the base commander's office, though. The man 
behind the desk looked both pissed and exhausted. He didn't look like 
he'd gotten any sleep since the day before.

"What can I do for you, Agent Mulder?" he asked, looking up as the door 
opened.

"I need to make a phone call."

Hammond frowned. "The base is sealed, Agent Mulder. A man tried to kill 
you. I would have thought that you'd want to keep your continued survival 
quiet, at least for now."

"Yes, but I'm not the only one in danger here. I need to call my partner 
to warn her."

Hammond stared at him searchingly for a minute, then pushed the phone 
towards him. "It's the only phone that can dial out right now," he 
explained. He didn't look inclined to leave.

Mulder took the phone and quickly dialed a memorized number. It 
automatically transferred him to a second, then a third, then a fourth. 
After nearly two minutes of bouncing sign signals, he got a ring.

The other end was picked up after only one ring. "Mulder, is that you?"

"Yeah, but we can't talk long. There's a chance this could be traced. 
They've put shoot on sight orders out for the three of us; you, me and 
Krycek. You need to be careful."

"Shit." Mulder blinked. Scully didn't curse very often. "Mulder, Skinner 
was shot two days ago. He's in a coma."

Mulder froze. For a moment it felt like his heart had skipped a beat. 
"What?"

"The guys think it's a trap; a lure to draw use back to DC. And someone 
shot at us yesterday in Cascade. *Not* Consortium, though, not unless 
they've got access to a completely new type of bullet. We left Cascade 
right away. Our motel room was bombed about the same time we left the 
city."

Mulder's mind was turning over options at a furious rate. "Are you secure 
where you are?" he asked.

"For the moment. Why?"

"Hold tight, then. We need to stay here for a few days. Maybe a week."

"Mulder," Scully said, fully alert and suspicious. "Are *you* all right?"

"I'm fine. Someone else took a bullet meant for me."

There was a sigh. "How bad is Krycek?" she asked. Obviously she had no 
problem guessing who would be willing to get between him and a bullet. 
They were going to have to talk about this the next time they were 
face-to-face.

"Recovering, but off his feet for a few days. Nothing permanent." He 
heard a mutter that sounded vaguely like "Pity."

"All right," Scully finally said. "We'll loose ourselves for the time 
being. Hopefully we can figure out what to do next in the meantime."

"Watch your back," Mulder told her then hung up the phone. "Thanks," he 
said to Hammond as he turned towards the door, planning on letting the 
man get back to his work.

"What about the other one, Krycek?" Mulder froze, cursing himself for his 
slip. "I thought so," Hammond said. "Which one is he? Kincaid or Armen?"

Mulder sighed. "Armen," he finally said.

"Anything else you should have told me about?" Hammond asked. The tone 
was mild, but there was a hard edge underneath.

"Not that I can think of," Mulder said. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be in 
the Med center."

"Mulder," Hammond started to say, but Mulder cut him off.

"General, what can I say? I'm caught between two enemies. My AD is in a 
hospital bed. He was shot two days ago, probably just to get me back in 
their hands. My partner was shot at with possibly alien technology 
yesterday, and some tried to kill me and almost succeeded in killing my 
other partner. I'm tired, and right now I haven't a clue what I'm going 
to do next."

Hammond's expression softened slightly. "Go get some sleep, Agent Mulder. 
We'll talk later. Planning is not something you should be trying to do 
exhausted."

Mulder nodded. He *was* at the end of his rope. But there was something 
he had to do first. He had to talk to Krycek.

Ignoring his guard, Mulder headed back to the Med center by the most 
direct route. Part of him wanted to delay, but that little voice in the 
back of his head told him that it would be cowardly to do that. Besides, 
who knew what had happened since he left.

When he reached Krycek's recovery room, his worst fears had been 
realized. Kincaid was sitting in the chair that Mulder had been 
occupying. Both men looked up as he entered the room, and he was certain 
that they'd been talking about him.

"Get a hold of Scully?" Krycek asked, already sounding better.

Mulder nodded. "They've left Cascade. Two attacks on them. And Skinner's 
been shot," he said bluntly.

"Shit," was the succinct reply.

After a moment, Kincaid got to his feet. "I'm going to get some 
breakfast," he said, looking depressingly awake. Obviously *he'd* gotten 
some sleep overnight. "Get some rest, Mulder," he said on his way out the 
door. "You look like hell."

And then Mulder was alone with Krycek.

His mouth went dry, and suddenly he couldn't think of anything to say. 
Krycek watched him patiently, then snorted.

"You do look like hell." He nodded towards one of the other beds in the 
room. "Go to sleep, Mulder."

"But..." Mulder stopped. He was definitely starting to feel fuzzy around 
the edges.

"It can wait until you're capable of coherent thought. Bed," Krycek 
ordered.

Mulder sighed, and obediently headed for the bed furthest from the door. 
Not bothering to find anything to sleep in, he toed off his shoes and 
climbed into the bed fully dressed.

As he drifted off, the last thing he heard was Krycek's voice.

"Don't worry. It's going to be all right. They'll have to come through me 
first."

Mulder wanted to say that he didn't want that, but he was already gone.

* * * * *

Kincaid followed his guide to the base cafeteria, carefully keeping track 
of the route. Sure, he was paranoid. Still, it had kept him alive for 
more than a decade, hadn't it? Even before he'd ever heard of Harrison 
Blackwood, he and his brother had been freelance agents for the 
government -- mercenaries in other words -- taking the nasty jobs that 
the government didn't want to send their own soldiers on, and they'd 
raised survival to a fine art. Then Max's death and General Wilson's 
disappearance had led him to Harrison Blackwood, just in time to see his 
old commander, Colonel Ironhorse, apparently kill himself.

At first it was for Ironhorse that he stayed with the Project, teaching 
Harrison and Suzanne how to work underground. They hadn't been prepared 
for loosing their government support. Eventually, he'd stayed because he 
believed in their fight and -- more importantly -- he believed in 
Harrison Blackwood.

Then the war ended and the world changed and someone decided that anyone 
who knew about the Mothren had to die. Harrison disappeared into the 
wilderness, and he'd helped the McCulloughs hide. Then he'd disappeared 
back into the underground. He'd spent a couple years with one of the 
survivalist camps in the mid-west, and it was during that time that he'd 
met Wolfling.

Wolfling. Unofficial head of the Hunters, a rough biker gang that could 
out-mean most gangs, but with a stronger sense of honor. They didn't give 
a shit for the laws of the land, but they didn't deal with drugs or 
prostitution. They'd been rough and mean, but had quickly accepted 
Kincaid as one of their own. It was almost like having Max back again.

In a way Wolfling reminded him of Harrison. Both men were bigger than 
life, dedicated and loyal. In fact, Kincaid had once propositioned the 
biker in a moment of weakness, because of that resemblance. The man had 
turned him down with a smile. Pity that Wolfling had to be so damned 
straight.

Breakfast loaded on a tray, Kincaid looked around, trying to find an 
empty spot. With the base sealed, trapping people inside, that wasn't 
easy. Finally, he saw a couple empty seats at the end of one table and 
headed for it.

Then he noticed the person sitting across from those seats smiled. Things 
were looking up.

"Are these seats taken?" he asked the attractive woman in fatigues.

"Go right ahead," she said, waving a fork at him.

He settled down, ignoring his guard taking the next seat. "John Kincaid," 
he said, holding out a hand. She shook it firmly.

"Captain Samantha Carter."

* * * * *

Spender lit another of the cigarettes that had prompted Fox Mulder to 
mocking call him Cancer Man and took a deep pull. He blew out a cloud of 
smoke, then nodded to the man standing opposite him. "Continue," he said.

The young man nodded. "No word from our people inside Mt. Cheyenne since 
reporting that Mulder, Krycek and Kincaid had shown up there. A few hours 
later, the base was sealed. One of them may have succeeded in eliminating 
them.

Spender shook his head. "I doubt it. There would be more activity and the 
base would not be so tightly sealed." Besides, he thought to himself, 
Mulder always seemed to have more than his fair share of luck on his 
side. And as for Krycek, that pretty little traitor seemed to have more 
lives that a *room* full of cats. "Keep observers around the base and let 
me know the moment anything changes. What else?"

"Agent Scully has been sighted in Cascade, Washington with James Ellison."

That caught his attention. "Was she alone?"

The man checked his notes. "There were two men and a woman with her. The 
group was at Rainier University, meeting with one of the professors in 
the Science department. Someone shot at the group. Ellison was the 
investigating officer."

He relaxed again. "Then the meeting was a coincidence. Good. Where is 
Agent Scully now?"

"Unknown," the man said, looking understandably nervous. "There motel 
room was bombed a couple hours later, but they seem to have vanished 
before that. It wasn't any of our people," he added.

Spender considered that for a moment. "Have the airports, bus and train 
stations checked. And alert agents in the closest cities: Seattle, 
Seacouver, Tacoma."

"And if they see them?"

Spender paused. "Take them alive. Mulder is the one we want. Agent Scully 
will make better bait than Skinner, I think. As well, I want to know if 
they learned anything from Ellison and his partner. And get the police 
reports on the shooting and the bomb. If it wasn't our people, I want to 
know who."

The young man nodded and left the room.

Spender blew out another cloud of cigarette smoke, considering the 
patterns it made in the air. It might be time to reevaluate the Sentinel 
project. The decision had been made to allow Ellison and the Canadian 
their autonomy, while the woman and two others were housed in various 
facilities. It might be time to bring them in, though, along with their 
partners. Spender looked forward to talking with Professor Sandburg in 
particular. His computer files made very interesting reading.

In fact, it was his master's thesis that  had brought him to the 
attention of the Consortium, and it was his research that had led them to 
their own subjects. He'd been helping their research for years without 
even knowing it.

Then he shook his head. It was too early for that move. Ellison could 
wait.

A sudden flash of light signaled that he was no longer alone, but he 
refused to show any reaction.

"They must be found. Now."

He turned his head. The woman standing there looked completely human, but 
her stiff stance and blank expression made her seem... artificial.

"Do *you* know who tried to kill them?" he asked, not expecting an answer 
and not surprised when he didn't get one. "One of the men must be 
Blackwood, and the woman Agent McCullough, but who is the other man?"

"That is irrelevant. They must be found and delivered to us. You may keep 
the other woman, Scully, but you *will* deliver the others. And you will 
deal with the man, Mulder. No resistance is allowed."

Again, there was a flash of light. When it had faded the woman was gone 
and Spender was alone again. He stared at the spot where she'd been 
standing, considering her words.

What was it about Blackwood that made them so... anxious, for the lack of 
a better word. It was a mystery, and he didn't like mysteries.

Spender turned to his computer and started making plans.


TO BE CONTINUED


(Sigh) Okay, so he just gave me material for book two. Like I really 
needed that. This series is never going to end. Oh, well. At least I know 
how this *book* is going to end.