TITLE:  A Few Good Men
AUTHOR:  Scifinerdgrl
RATING:  R for violence
CATEGORY: X (X-File)
SPOILERS: Avatar, Existence
KEYWORDS: Character dies, Pre-XF story, Skinner
SUMMARY: Skinner is visited by Vietnam flashbacks and the ghosts
of old friends as he tries to rescue Scully and her baby.
WARNING: MAJOR Character Death. (Not the SPG)
SON OF WARNING: I started this story in August, 2001, and I
suspended it on 9/11. After I started up again in November, it
started turning unabashedly pro-military and patriotic even
though I've always been kind of anti-military and NOT a
flag-waver.  I don't understand it either but this story has a
mind of its own. 
FEEDBACK:  scifinerdgrl@mail.ev1.net
FLAMES:  whocareswhatyouthink@biteme.com

CHAPTER 1

The young marine landed on his stomach, his face down in a muddy
creek.  At first he couldn't breathe, but with a herculean
effort he turned his head and spit out the mud and twigs that
had intruded into his mouth.  He took in a tentative breath,
then opened his eyes and looked up.  Through the mist of the
jungle he could hear the muffled footsteps and calls of his
platoon, far behind him and getting further.  The bastards, he
thought.  They're leaving me here! 

He laid still for a moment, getting his bearings, making his
plans.  He could feel his gun underneath him, and visualized how
he would check his gun for damage, then run towards his platoon,
his gun out ahead of him.  Just like in boot camp, he thought. 
As he mentally rehearsed his next moves, he heard a low groan a
few feet away. 

"Walt?" the groan evolved into his name.  "Walt?  Are you here?" 
Silence, then a more plaintive cry.  "Walt?  Anybody?  I... I
can't feel my legs."

Walter S. Skinner, PFC, raised his head and looked around. 
"Hank?  Is that you?" he said in a loud stage whisper.

"Walt?" the relieved yet pained voice cried out.  "Yeah, it's
me.  I'm over here." Walter's eyes raced from point to point,
scanning for any sign of humanity.  All he could see was the
lush green foliage of the Vietnam jungle.  "Keep talking" he
whispered loudly.  "But keep it down.  I'm coming for you."

As Hank tried to comply, Walter scrambled through the
underbrush, his gun in one hand and his body as low to the
ground as he could manage.  Just like boot camp, he thought.  He
came to Hank, his best friend in the platoon, hiding in a tangle
of thick vines.  Only Hank's head was visible.  After carefully
checking around them, Walter stood up, and reached for Hank's
arms.  "I'll get you out of here, guy.  Hold on."  Hank pulled
his arms out from the vines and gripped Walter's wrists.  Walter
responded by gripping Hank's wrists forcefully.  He pulled with
steady force as Hank's uniform alternately caught and then broke
free from twigs and branches in the brush.  With a sudden surge,
he pulled Hank free and nearly fell backwards himself.  As he
regained his balance, he looked down at Hank to see a trail of
blood where his legs should have been.  A sinking feeling came
over him, but an equally strong reserve of resolve welled up
from a source he never knew he had.  

With compassion, he said "Let me carry you."  Hank looked up
plaintively.  The tone in his friend's voice told him things
were worse than he'd thought.  Walt continued, "I'll get you out
of here.  In one swift movement he pulled Hank's torso up from
the ground and threw it across his shoulders.  He steadied his
friend with one hand as he gripped his gun with the other. 
"They went this way," he said with as much determination as he
could muster. 

He ran toward the sounds of his retreating platoon and soon
caught up to them.  Breathlessly, he ran to his lieutenant. 
"Hank's hurt.  We gotta get a medic right away."  The
lieutenant, only a few years older than the two PFCs, looked up
at the tall athletic man with mud in his hair and a heroic gleam
in his eye, but he said nothing.  Walter persisted.  "We gotta
get him some help...  NOW!" 

The lieutenant took Walter's arm and ushered him toward a
waiting jeep.  "There's no hurry," he said sadly.  Walter looked
at him with disbelief.  As the lieutenant turned him toward the
jeep, Walter carefully laid his friend in the back.  As he saw
the life draining out of his friend, a vision he'd seen too many
times in his young life, he grabbed the man by his shirt and
started shaking him violently.  "Don't you die on me, Hank.  Not
now!!!  You're safe now!" he shouted.  "You can go home!!  Wake
up!" 


Assistant Director Skinner groaned and rolled toward the sound
of his answering machine.  "Wake up.  A.D. Skinner, wake up," a
computer-generated voice said from the tiny speaker. He jumped
up and ran to the phone.  "Who is th " he started breathlessly. 
The synth voice of the palm pilot rang in his ears. "A.D.
Skin-ner. The fu-ture is here. You made it pos-si-ble."  The
phone line went dead and Skinner slammed the phone down. He
started pacing and running his hand over his scalp as if there
were still hair there.  Stop it, Walter, he thought to himself. 
Think.  After a few seconds of calming himself, he pulled off
his pajamas and grabbed the jeans and T-shirt he had thrown into
the hamper only hours ago.   He walked into his living room,
banging his shin on the coffee table.  He yelped in pain and
grabbed his shin.  His voice seemed too loud to him, then he
realized why.  Everything was too quiet. He couldn't hear even
the usual background hum of air conditioners.  He went to the
window and saw that the whole neighborhood had lost power. "This
can't be about me," he thought hopefully. "It's just a
coincidence." Nevertheless, he felt his way to the hall table
and picked up his gun. He went to the front door and put his ear
against it. He couldn't hear a thing. He opened the door to his
hall closet and felt for his trench coat, slipped on some shoes,
then grabbed his flashlight from the trench coat pocket. He
opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his left hand
holding the flashlight, the right hand holding his gun. He
shined the flashlight to the right, then to the left, then to
the right again. He thought he heard a "click" and whipped
around to the left again. A neighbor's door opened, and Skinner
pointed his gun at the entrance.

With a loud buzz the emergency generator came on and the exit
signs lit up. In the dim red light Skinner saw a familiar form.
He flashed his light on the form's face. "Hello, Mrs. Robinson"
he said. 

An elderly woman clutched the opening of her robe and shuffled
her slippered feet in place. "Mr. Skinner. What happened?"  

Skinner answered in a kindly voice. "Just a problem with the
power. It looks like the whole neighborhood is affected. There's
nothing to worry about." The old woman went back into her
apartment and closed the door. Skinner exhaled and suddenly
realized he had not been breathing. Despite what he'd said to
his neighbor, he was plenty worried. Whoever had the palm pilot
knew his home phone number, and probably also knew where he
lived. He locked his apartment door and then headed for the
emergency stairs. 

He passed no one on his way to the parking garage. His eyes were
by now somewhat accustomed to the darkness and he could make out
his car. Nobody seemed to be around, so he ran to his car,
opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. He checked the
back seat and found it empty. He sighed and put the key in the
ignition. His cell phone rang and he had a heavy feeling in the
pit of his stomach. He answered it. The synth voice said "A.D.
Skin-ner can you see in the dark?"

Skinner did not answer. "We know where you are. You can-not
hide." Skinner ground his teeth but resisted the urge to answer.
The synth voice continued, "You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly's
ba-by. You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly. You can-not pro-tect
hu-man-i-ty. Re-sis-tance is fu-tile. Ha. Ha. Ha." and the
connection ended.  

...Scully's baby... Scully... the words rang in his ears. He
turned the ignition and squealed out of the parking garage...

He knew the route to D.C. like the back of his hand, but without
any light but his own and a few others' headlights, everything
looked different. He grabbed his cellphone and dialed the first
few digits of Scully's number, then thought better of it and put
his cellphone back in his pocket. He drove on for a few minutes
until coming to a Quik-E-Mart. He parked at the gas pumps and
then got out of the car. He shined his flashlight toward where
he thought a pay phone might be, and found one. He walked to it,
turned off his flashlight, and started dialing Scully's number.
Her line began to ring, and as he waited for an answer he turned
around and leaned against the phone stand, watching for any sign
that he was being followed. He wasn't a religious man, but he
found himself praying that she would answer. 

Finally, he heard her voice say "Hello." And at that instant,
his car blew up. 

CHAPTER 2

"HELLO?!?" Scully shouted into the phone. She turned to look at
Mulder, and said "What does this sound like to you?" She gave
the phone to Mulder and he listened for a few seconds. At first
e heard a quiet crackling sound, but then he heard a huge
explosion, followed by a much louder crackling sound. He also
thought he heard what could have been screams. 

He handed the phone back to Scully. "I'm not sure." 

Scully looked at her caller I.D. as she listened to the
crackling. "It's gotten worse" she said to Mulder. "Is it the
line?"  

"I don't think so" answered Mulder. "I think I heard an
explosion." 

Scully said "I think I heard one, too, but I wasn't sure." 

Mulder leaned over to look at the caller I.D. "The call came
from Virginia, but I don't recognize he exchange."
 
Scully scanned the apartment. "Mulder, where's my cellphone?" 

Mulder looked toward the table where she usually put it. "I
dunno. I haven't seen it in awhile."
 
Scully put her finger on the hang-up button then started making
a call. "Hi, it's Agent Scully of the FBI. I need to find the
location of a number" and she read out the number. She listened
for a minute as she grabbed a pen. Mulder came up with some
paper for her. She scribbled down the address as Mulder looked
on. "Thank you." Scully said, and then hung up the phone.
"Well?" she asked Mulder. 

With obvious concern, he answered "That's in Crystal City." He
grabbed his car keys and the scrap of paper, then ran to the
door. "You stay with the baby. I'll call you when I know
anything." Scully watched him slam the door behind him, then
locked the locks. She looked nervously around the apartment,
then decided to check on the baby.

CHAPTER 3
                              
The first explosion knocked Skinner into the parking lot next
door. The second explosion knocked him even further. He was
winded and lay face-down on the ground for a few seconds before
he was able to catch his breath. He rolled over and saw massive
flames towering high into the sky. In the distance he could hear
sirens approaching, and he could hear faint voices shouting for
help. He got to his feet and looked around him. Both lenses of
his glasses were cracked, giving the effect of a kaleidoscope.
The light from the flames put everything in high relief, so that
even after removing his glasses, Skinner could make out some
tall buildings and a small wooded area. He stumbled toward the
wooded area and found a fallen log to sit on. He looked back at
the scene and shook his head.  

He needed to make a plan. A good marine makes a plan and carries
it out, he tried to tell himself. But he couldn't think of a
first step; he could only focus on the final outcome: death to
whoever did this, and destruction of the palm pilot.  His
cellphone rang, and he eagerly answered it. "Don't worry about
coming after me. I'm coming after you," he said passionately.

"Sir?" said Mulder. "It's Mulder."

"Oh, hi, Mulder," said Skinner. "What phone are you calling
from?" 

"My cellphone. I'm in my car, on my way to Crystal City. Was
that you calling Scully?" 

"Yeah. I was trying to warn her..." 

"Warn her of what?" Mulder had the sinking feeling he'd done
exactly the wrong thing. "Is she in danger?" 

"I'm not sure now." Skinner answered, exasperated yet puzzled at
the same time. "I got a warning, but it may have been a trick." 

"Where are you?" As he asked this Mulder's road turned southward
and he saw flames in the distance. "Never mind, I think I can
find you." 

"Follow the light, Mulder" Skinner said. He put the phone in his
pocket and passed out.

Mulder shouted into the cellphone.  "Skinner!" but heard
nothing.  As soon as he'd put it back in his pocket it rang.  He
grabbed it and said breathlessly "Hang on.  Where are you?"

Scully answered, "Mulder, it's me."  

Mulder said "I was talking to Skinner a second ago but got cut
off."  A light from a helicopter swept across his windshield and
he craned his neck to get a look at the source.  He wasn't sure,
but it looked military.  "Scully, something big is going on
here.  There's a huge fire in Arlington." 

Scully put William down on the sofa and picked up the remote. 
On the TV she saw a reporter behind a desk with "LIVE SPECIAL
REPORT" scrolling across the bottom of the screen.  The reporter
said, "Information is sketchy at this point, but it looks as if
there's been an explosion in Crystal City.  We're getting
reports of broken windows from as far away as Alexandria.  All
air traffic has been rerouted from National to Dulles..."

Scully could hear Mulder shouting into the phone "Scully, are
you there?"

She answered, "Yes, I'm here, Mulder."

"Don't do that to me!" he yelled.

"Sorry, I just turned on the TV.  It's hit the news already, but
they don't know much."

Traffic slowed down and Mulder slammed his brakes.  A man in
military fatigues waved him to a stop.  "Look Scully, I gotta
go.  Call Agent Doggett and get him to stay with you, wouldya?"
and he hung up before she could answer.

CHAPTER 4

His sense of hearing came back first, but all the sounds he
heard were mixing together in his head in an aural kaleidoscope. 
He lay on his back and struggled to focus on individual sounds,
eventually picking out the sounds of a crackling brush fire,
choppers overhead, shouts, footsteps in the underbrush... 

"Medic!" one of the voices shouted.  "There's another one over
here -- I think he's alive!"  A rush of footsteps followed,
getting louder, stopping just a few inches away.  He opened his
eyes just long enough to take in red, black and green images
swirling in a nauseating eddy, then shut them again groaned.

He felt two fingers on his neck.  "This one's salvageable," a
voice near him said urgently.  The same voice said "What's your
name, soldier?" with heartrending compassion.  Skinner tried to
answer, but his jaw felt like it was on fire.  He groaned and
tried to get up but felt a firm hand push down on his chest. 
"Hold on" said the kindly voice.  "We're gonna get you outta
here."  The pressure on his ribs made him cry out, and the
kindly voice yelled "We've got broken ribs here. Maybe internal
injuries.  Where's that stretcher?" he demanded.

Skinner felt a hand reaching into his shirt and the voice said
"Were you wearing you dog tags?  I can't find them."  Skinner
shook his head as best he could.  A rush of footsteps came
toward them, and Skinner felt his body being rolled onto a
stretcher.  A different voice said "We have to hurry.  HQ's
sending more napalm."  The two voices said together, "One, two
three..." and Skinner felt himself being lifted up.  After a
brief but very bumpy ride he heard the sound of chopper blades
and felt their hot breeze brushing against his skin.  The men
lifted him into the chopper and he heard a new voice yell over
the blades "Last one.  You have to get out of here!" and the
chopper rose out of the jungle.  Skinner turned his head and
opened his eyes.  He could see the flames leaping up as if to
race the chopper.  And that was the last thing he remembered.

CHAPTER 5

Scully hunted for her cellphone again, then gave up and dialed
Doggett's number on the apartment phone.  Doggett's voice
answered after one ring.  "Yeah.  What?" He said with sleepy
curtness. 

Scully answered "Agent Doggett, this is Agent Scully.  I think
A.D. Skinner needs your help.  Mulder's on his way to Crystal
City."  She paused and considered what she should say next.
"Mulder wants you to watch out for me here, but I'm all right. 
Really.  Whatever's going on in Crystal City is more important." 


Doggett woke up immediately.  "I'm on it" he said efficiently,
and hung up the phone. 

She hung up and paced the floor until the pain from William's
birth became unbearable.  She sat on the sofa, put William in
her lap, and channel-surfed for more news of the fire.  She
wondered why Mulder had told her to call Agent Doggett, and
tried to suppress the feeling that she'd just made a mistake.
One station showed an aerial view, with tall flames leaping up
from a pitch black background.  The only other lights in
Arlington were at the Pentagon, making the Pentagon look like a
big bulls-eye that had narrowly been missed. 

Scully was watching so intently that the knock on her door made
her leap.  "Who is it?" she yelled, half-hoping it would be
Doggett.  "It's me, sweetie."  Scully went to the door, looked
through the peep-hole, then unlocked the door and opened it. 
"Hi Mom." Maggie Scully came in and immediately started cooing
over the baby.  "May I?" she asked, arms outstretched.  Scully
grinned.  "Sure." and handed the baby over to her mother.  Her
mother cradled the baby and rocked side to side.  "Something
told me to check on you.  I saw the light, and I..."

"It's okay, Mom.  I haven't been sleeping much lately."  It
wasn't a complaint.  She was glad to sacrifice a little sleep
for the baby she'd wanted so desperately.

"Where's Fox?"  Maggie asked.  Scully smiled at her mother's use
of Mulder's first name.  She still doesn't get it, she thought. 
"There" Scully said, and looked toward the images of flames on
the television.

Maggie Scully looked at her daughter with concern and
compassion. "Why don't you stay with me until he comes back.  If
he's dealing with THAT" she nodded toward the TV "he'll be gone
for a good while.  And I can take care of William while you get
some sleep."  Scully hated to admit to herself that she liked
the idea, but the fear she'd been suppressing overcame her pride
and she immediately said "Let's go."

Scully wrote a note for Mulder as her mother put together an
overnight bag, then they headed down the stairs.  Mrs. Scully's
car was already equipped with a car seat, facing backwards in
the rear seat.  "Mom," Scully started.  Maggie cut her off "I
was a girl scout, remember?  Always prepared."  She expertly
strapped William into the seat as Scully gingerly sat in the
passenger seat.  A glint from the cup holder caught her eye and
she reached for the object.  It was her cellphone. At about the
same time, neighbors heard thuds and muffled screams coming from
Mrs. Scully's house... 

CHAPTER 6

John Doggett pulled on some clothes, grabbed his gun and his
notebook, and headed out the door. As he drove toward Crystal
City,  he could see a glow on the horizon.  

He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed a
preprogrammed number. A sleepy agent Reyes answered. 

"Agent Doggett here.  I hate to wake you.  There was an
explosion in Crystal City, and I gotta bad feeling about this --
not what you think, just a cop's instincts. A.D. Skinner lives
in Crystal City." As he listened he could hear sirens and the
glow on the horizon turned into a tall cylinder of fire.  "I'm
going down there" he said. "And I could use some help."
 
"Just say where" Reyes answered, and they chose a meeting place
and time. 
 
As Doggett crossed the bridge into Arlington, he saw the
choppers, the flashing lights of sirens, and the eerie darkness
all around. Smoke from the fire was starting to waft toward him,
and the light from its own flames gave it a pinkish color.
Soldiers waved him away from his route and he found himself
being directed to Arlington National Cemetery. He rolled down
his window and said "I'm with the FBI. I need to get to Crystal
City." 

The soldier looked at his badge and said "No sir, we need you
here. Follow me." The soldier walked into the cemetery, with
Doggett following closely behind in his car. They passed dozens
of rows of plain white grave markers, and the sounds of choppers
and sirens grew quieter. Eventually the soldier signaled him to
stop at a row of graves that looked just like any other.

"Get out of the car" he ordered. Doggett followed him to a grave
that read "PFC Joseph McKinney, March 12, 1951 - August 27,
1969" Doggett pulled his flashlight from his pocket and read the
grave marker. He turned around, saying "What does this..." and
realized the soldier was gone.