:: Tales Of The Resistance ::Part Fourteen B "Can’t you override it or something?" Webb snapped at Frohike. "How?" The computer geek cried back. "The signals are complete. I can tell you when each one of the 47 charges are set to explode. I can take you to each charge but we’ve got 20 minutes before the first one blows under the dock door where the truck is. Once that goes off, you can kiss your ass goodbye because the next one under the main entrance and the next one under the door we breached both go off three minutes after…." "Will you both just stop! We have to get out of here and we have to get the supplies so I can do the blood transfusion- in the damn truck if necessary." Scully stepped between them. "Melvin, please go and lead the Rangers back here and have them start loading, this and this and this." she pointed at specific items. Carefully, she stepped between the tables holding the pain ridden, alien infected ‘test subjects.’ She couldn’t allow herself to look at them. Smith had already told her the infection was too wide spread – even if they drained Marita of all her blood, they couldn’t save even one. "Clay, please go into that empty examine room and grab anything useful." Webb balked. "I want to help Rabb." "You can’t help Rabb. You can’t get near him. Only Mulder and Smith can without fear of contamination. Victor will lead them upstairs. Now, please." Webb flashed his light across the room, sighed and pulled out the largest of the metal drawers. It was full of dressing gowns. He spared a thought to the naked women across the hall, began to swear and emptied the contents onto the floor. He opened cabinets and swept dressings, ointments, wrapped packages of syringes, empty vials, all into the drawer. He prayed he was doing some good. Scully reached around him. "Is there room for this? I’ll need it for the transfusion." Webb spared a moment to meet her gaze. "What do you think?" She didn’t even pause, but pushed him toward the hallway. "I think we have to try." Mulder and Smith were pushing a gurney out of the lab room. Rabb was strapped to it and Webb closed his eyes at the eerie calm on the flyer’s face. Galindez came out of the room, half-supporting, half-dragging the dazed Marita behind him. Webb stalked up to him and shoved the metal drawer into Galindez’s arms, causing him to let go of the blond. "Take this up with you, Dana needs it. Leave, Miss Covarrubias with me." "Webb!" Victor glared at the spy. "Go, Galindez. Get them out of here and don’t worry. I have no desire to die down here with the lovely Marita." He grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her upright. "Now." He shook her slightly and she tried to wrench away from him, but he held her tightly. "Now, now. You and I have to talk." "We have to get out," she gasped. "Oh? Why?" he asked coolly. "You know why. I heard what that man said. They’ve hit the self-destruct button." She tried to drag him to the door. "They?" He asked, his lips close to her ear. "I don’t know. It could have been Stephens at the desk or any number of people on the first floor." "Where are they now? Where are they going?" His nails bit into her skin, even through the light green sweater she wore. "I don’t know…owwww!" she cried. "Clay! Let’s go." Scully ran back down and grabbed the blue covered report and looked around. "Leave her or bring her, but we’ve only got 10 minutes to clear the building. Come on, they’ve got Rabb in the back of the truck and I’m going to start the IVs." "I thought no one but Smith and Mulder could get near Rabb." Scully touched the back of her neck. "Evidently, according to Smith, I’m immune, too." Webb grabbed her arm. "Do you trust him?" "What choice do we have? But yes, yes I do." She entered the room where the women lay strapped to the tables and grabbed a tray of instruments, found a half-full box of swabs, emptied it and dumped the surgical steel into it. "What about them?" Webb whispered. Dana stopped and touched his arm. "There’s nothing we can do." "So, we’re going to leave them to die in the explosions and fires?" He walked over to one of the women and looked down into her eyes. "I can’t." "What are you going to do, Clay? Please, we have to go." He could hear the tears in her voice. Marita said nothing and when he looked back at them, she was studying him coolly. "Get her out of here. If she gives you any trouble, kill her." Webb growled at the Ranger who had come running up to warn them to get a move on. "Webb?" "Go, Dana." He took out the Sig Sauer Skinner had given him, looked down at the woman and whispered, "God, forgive me." Scully was running when she heard the first shot. She faltered for just a moment and then screamed at the Ranger who had turned around, his grip on Marita’s arm still firm. "GO!" Two more shots rang out by the time they reached the elevator. Osgood was still slumped next to it. "Throw her in and drag him in after us." Scully put the box down and took the pistol from her waistband to point at Marita. "Please give me an excuse." she insisted. "Get him in there." "Come on, Dr. Scully." The Ranger pleaded as he pulled Osgood over the threshold. "Count to thirty, slowly." "Damn it, Dana." Marita whined, but the gun leveled at her forehead silenced her. Dana breathed a sigh of relief when she heard his pounding footsteps. "Hurry, Clay!" "Don’t wait." he yelled. "Hurry, damn you!" He fell into the elevator and jammed the close door button. "Son-of-a-bitch." He panted angrily. "Stop it." Dana bounced on the balls of her feet urging the elevator to go faster. Webb was suddenly very glad that Sarah MacKenzie and her perfect time was nowhere near. The doors ‘pinged’ open and Webb practically threw Dana, carrying the box, down the hallway. "Grab Osgood." He yelled at the Ranger. "Come on." He reached out and grabbed Marita’s wrist. "Keep up or so help me, I’ll leave you here." They ran down the corridor to the door where Mulder, Frohike and Doggett had entered. Doggett was waiting with one other Ranger. "What in the hell took you so long!" He pushed the Ranger out the door and reached out to grab Osgood's other arm. Together, he and the Ranger hoisted him out the door. They raced down the path and saw the Humvee halfway down the path. "They’ve already moved the truck out to the highway. Move!" They were barreling down the winding road when they heard the first explosion. They were just outside the deserted gate when a succession of explosions lit the night sky. They didn’t stop for nearly twenty minutes and when they did, the forest roared with fire shooting skyward. They found the truck and Scully who had been sitting on Doggett’s lap, struggled to get out. The three Rangers were standing guard; Frohike was at the wheel. "Hey, Scully, get in there. We have to move away, I think the fire is coming this way." Doggett helped her up onto the back of the truck. "Drive till you think it’s safe, but we aren’t going anywhere while the transfusion is taking place," she ordered. They found a deserted 7-11, the shelves ransacked, the premises holding nothing but two boxes of coffee for the coffee machines that the looters had missed. Doggett and the five Rangers searched thoroughly. "It’s clear, Scully. Would it be better to do it inside?" "Probably, but we can’t take the chance. I don’t want the truck to move if we can’t help it, but I sure as hell down want to have to move them if we have to go. Smith says it’s going to be touch and go. Mulder’s got to give a lot of blood, and Rabb is getting the beating of his life, from the inside out." Webb paced outside the truck. Doggett and Galindez talked quietly just outside the doors of the 7-11. Doggett had figured out how to turn on the huge machines and they all had coffee. All but Marita who sat on the ground, hands tied to one of the spokes of the wheels. The fire lit the dawn sky, obliterating the sunrise. Suddenly, they heard Scully yell. "Watch out. Get away from the truck." Webb turned in time to see the glob of black oil seep off the tailgate to pool barely ten feet from where he stood. The same dark panic that haunted his dreams, seized him. "Shit! Now what!" He cried as everyone came running toward him. "Burn it." Marita’s voice seem to hang in the air for a moment before one of the Rangers ran back to the Humvee, reached in and pulled out a flare. By the time he rejoined the circle the stick already shot out orange fire. Dropping it in the middle of the blackness, he stepped back quickly and a bright blue flame flared up engulfing the alien life form. This was followed almost immediately by a cry of pain from the back of the truck. Webb heard Marita laughing as he jumped up onto the gate in time to see the man - the alien - who had saved his life, curled up into a fetal ball. Scully was struggling to step over Rabb and not dislodge the tubing still trailing between him and Mulder, who looked completely out of it. Webb reached the alien first and knelt down next to him. "What the hell happened?" "I don’t know." Scully, her face streaked with soot and sweat, touched Smith gently. "Jeremiah? What is it? What happened?" Doggett poked his head around the side of the truck. "He feels it." Looking down for a second he nodded. "Marita says they’re connected somehow and some can even communicate with each other." "Will he be okay?" Scully caressed Smith’s forehead to soothe the writhing man. Doggett growled the question to Marita. Webb saw the agent’s leg swing and heard the hissed "Fuck you." He sighed. "She doesn’t know, Scully. Make him as comfortable as … what the …?" Webb surged forward in time to see the small parking lot suddenly surrounded by a dozen police cars and military jeeps. A voice boomed, "Nobody move! Drop those weapons! NOW!" Webb gracefully hopped down from the truck and stood beside Doggett. Together, they walked forward. Galindez, who was followed by three Rangers, joined them. The other two Rangers went to stand at parade rest at the truck gate. Frohike walked up to Marita and waited. Putting his hands on his hips, Webb called out, "Who’s in charge?" A young Lieutenant, perhaps even younger than Bud Roberts, stepped forward. "Lieutenant Anthony. Who are you, gentlemen?" Webb sighed and waited. A captain exited from one of the police vehicles and walked up to him. "I believe you were asked a question…sir." Webb looked at Doggett who just shrugged. The next thing Webb knew, he was flying. His progress halted by two of the Rangers stepping behind him. They kept him on his feet and he felt a handkerchief being pressed against his mouth. He tasted the iron and fear as the blood coursed down his throat. "Nice," he muttered as he gently probed each tooth with his tongue. He started to walk back to the soldier, but Doggett and Galindez stepped between them. Doggett growled out. "We’re just people trying to make our way south to friends, Captain." The man studied them for a moment but then Marita started laughing. "Yeah, right! Captain! Come here for a moment, would you?" Doggett and Galindez turned to face the woman who looked like she had been abused by the entire group and inwardly groaned. Frohike, who had started to grab her, realized what it would look like and stepped back. Only Webb, handkerchief held to his mouth, walked over to the blond and waited for the Captain to make up his mind. "What is this? Who is she?" Webb didn’t even bother to answer the Captain. "You don’t talk much do you, mister?" "Only when I need to, Captain." Webb waited for the next blow, but it never came. "Why is she tied up?" The Captain asked politely. "I’ll tell you why." Marita hissed. "They’re traitors, that’s why. Sent down here to destroy valuable research. See that fire? They started it." She struggled to kneel before them. "I tried to stop them, but they brought me with them. They’re looking for the brave men who worked in that facility who are trying to save this country." She glanced quickly around her and then whispered. "You can call President Winslow, he’ll tell you who I am. Or, call Mr. Lee. He knows me, too." The Captain studied her for a long moment. "Mr. Lee and President Winslow, huh? Barty!" A man who had a Navy SEAL patch on his shoulder came running up, he had a hand-held unit in his hand. "Sir!" Webb watched with growing anxiety. Something wasn’t right here. Since when did a Navy SEAL report to an Army captain? "Get me the General." The captain waited and studied the rest of Webb’s group. "Who’s in the truck?" Webb stood silent and it was Doggett who answered. "Two sick friends, Captain." "Indeed." He walked over to where the fire had finally petered out. "And this?" Doggett’s breath caught. The way he said it sounded like the captain knew exactly what it was. Doggett managed a shrug and pointed to the flare. "One of the men threw that over there. Still don’t know why." "Lame, mister. You got a name?" Doggett decided to follow Webb’s example and just shrugged. "How about you?" The captain almost shook in silent laughter. "Vega. Vincent Vega." Corporal Barty handed over the radio and Vega spoke into it. "This is Vega." "Parker, here. What have you got?" Galindez stiffened. It couldn’t be. General Thomas Parker had been the base commander at Fort Benning. Victor had been detailed there on a joint Marine/Army exercise almost four years ago, just before he had been assigned to JAG. "I got me some pilgrims, sir. Very untalkative, very military except for the cocky little bastard who seems to be in charge." He grinned at Marita. "I’ve got me a sweet lookin’ little blond all tied up to the wheel of the truck says they’re all traitors and how I should call President Winslow and Mr. Lee. Also, they’ve got SICK comrades." Silence stretched out into the morning, the light still dimmed by the smoke settling over them. The radio crackled, "Let me talk to him." "Who, sir?" Vega asked. "The cocky little bastard." Vega handed the radio to Webb who just shook his head. He would have to deal with this, but he’d be damned if he was going down without a fight, even if it was a fight of complete non-cooperation. "Sir, he won’t take it." Suddenly Galindez stepped forward and took the radio. "General Parker, sir. Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, reporting." Webb glared at him and Doggett hissed. But Galindez waited. "Do I know you, Gunny?" The firm voice asked softly. "Sir, no sir. We met once four years ago, I was on the MP team working on ways to handle the Haitian refugee camps." "I remember that meeting, Gunnery Sergeant. Now tell me, what the hell are you doing out in the middle of nowhere, blowing up a secret lab of the CDC?" Gunny was at a loss for words and when he looked at Webb the spy just gave him a look that said he was on his own. "Sir, I’m not sure what you’re talking about." "You’re not, huh. Gunny, the cocky bastard in charge? Tell him that if he doesn’t talk to me and right now, I’m going to have Captain Vega haul all your asses down here to Atlanta. Trust me, son. You don’t want to be here right now." Webb sighed and grabbed the radio. "General Parker. Clayton Webb. I’m the cocky bastard, though I doubt if I’m really in charge. We’re just a bunch of, as your captain called us, pilgrims trying to get warm." "So, you came from up north, Mr. Webb? Did your bring your mother with you?" Webb face went pale and he couldn’t answer. "Mr. Webb? You did get Porter out of D.C. also, didn’t you?" Webb strangled out. "I wasn’t aware that you knew my mother, sir. And to answer your question, no. I hope a friend did, but I haven’t heard from either of them." The silence stretched again. "I’m sorry, Mr. Webb. I, too, have lost contact with friends and family. So, are you part of this resistance that Micah Toblin keeps broadcasting about?" "You’ll forgive me if I don’t answer that, General." Webb was having trouble breathing. "Actually I will, if you do me a favor." "What, sir." "Can you contact him, without fear of betraying him?" Webb looked over at Frohike who nodded briefly. "Our communication expert tells me we can, General." "Good. My call letters are WKR82Y. Have him call me. I need to know what to do about this mess down here." "What mess is that, General?" Webb was cautiously elated. If all of Fort Benning had refused to follow Winslow, then there was hope that other commanders at other bases had followed suit. "We’ve got a strange disease down here. I have information that the CDC is supposed to be working on a cure, but they're on shut down and I’m unsure of what to do or how to get in. They’ve got security that I envy." Webb glanced at Frohike. "Do it." "On it." They waited while Frohike got through to the base. Listened as he explained the situation to Morris who had practically screeched her acknowledgment of his hale. Frohike handed the radio to Webb. He took it and in his fashion, muttered, "Hello?" He walked away from the group, jerking his head for Galindez and Doggett to follow him. "Webb?" they heard. "Yes, Mr. President?" "Well? Dr. Morris says you’ve got trouble." "I’m not sure, sir. No one has made any overt threatening moves." He rubbed his cheek. "At least not since Miss Covarrubias suggested they listen to her and to check with Winslow or Lee." "Webb, this is Fielding." "Yes, General." "Frohike said General Parker wanted the President to contact him. I’ve known Tom Parker my entire career. Ten days ago if he had told me we were being attacked by aliens, I would have believed him." Webb sighed. "Mr. President, General, General Parker didn’t press me for your location. Frohike assures me that you can contact him without fear of discovery." Toblin answered. "Yes, Mr. Webb. As soon as we sign off, I’m calling him. This could be important." He paused. "Before I do though, are you prepared to report?" Webb looked up into the smoke-filled sky. Closing his eyes for a moment he took a deep breath and then whispered. "No, sir." He handed the radio to Doggett and walked to the edge of the parking lot. Two soldiers started to challenge him, but he heard a sharp word from Vega and they let him pass. He felt dead inside. More dead than when he really was. Cold. Hard as ice. He hadn’t felt like this even when he had killed the terrorist, Teresa Marcello in Italy, in cold blood. Thinking of Italy made him think of Chegwidden, which in turn brought Francesca to his thoughts. He hoped that Rossi would stand by her, if that was what she wanted. He realized he couldn’t go back. Not now. He had to find the bastards who made it necessary for him to put bullets in the heads of those three women who had spent the last three days in such agony only to find relief in death by his hand. He walked back to the truck and looked in. "How are they?" Dana looked up from Rabb and wiped her hand across her brow. "Well, the oil has left, as you saw. He’s resting comfortably. But he’s out of it. Smith made sure of that before…" "How’s Smith doing?" "Not good. He just lies there." She nodded to the alien still curled into a tight ball. "I hope it’s just a period of mourning or adjustment or healing. But, he doesn’t respond to me at all." "Hey." A weak groggy voice called. "Isn’t anybody going to ask about me?" Webb pulled himself up onto the gate. He knelt next to the man who given so much to save his friend. "How are you feeling?" "Tired. What’s going on outside?" "Looks like the cavalry really did ride in. And they seem like good guys." "Don’t trust anyone." Mulder weakly demanded. "I think we’re past that, partner." Scully whispered. "Mulder?" Webb touched the other man’s shoulder. "Yeah?" Mulder met his gaze. "What was it like, after?" Mulder was silent for a long time. "Pretty bad. But I’ll be there for him." "Thanks." Webb stood abruptly and jumped down from the truck. He stalked over to where Marita sat dejected, ignoring everything around her. He squatted next to her and took a fistful of hair in his hand. "Marita, look at me." "Go to hell, bastard." "Probably, dear. But you’ll pave the way if you don’t watch that lovely mouth of yours. I want them, Marita. I want them all. I want them dead." "Yeah, yeah. So did Mulder. So did Skinner. Skinner did better than most, but the aliens did the best. You’re not Skinner and you sure as hell aren’t an alien." "You know where the aliens are?" "Yeah," she sneered, "they’re all around us. Look at them. You think there’s not one in that crowd?" "You can’t tell for sure though, can you?" He challenged her. "But I don’t care, you see. I only want one thing and you’re going to tell me." "Go to hell." "We’ve been over that already Marita." His hand tightened in her hair. She struggled and he was pleased to see the tears well in her eyes." "What?" "You know what. I want to know where they went." "Let go." He only tightened his grip more, arching her head even further back. She must have seen the ice in his eyes because she shuddered and tried to nod. "Okay." Still, he didn’t let go and she openly sobbed. A shadow, defused by the smoke fell over them but Webb didn’t even look up. "Damn you! They went to Atlanta!" "Shit!" Webb finally looked up at the harassed tone of Captain Vega. "Just what we fucking need. More of the bastards." :: Part 15 ::Assessment of Priorities Mac lay luxuriating in the comfortable bed, momentarily suspecting she was still asleep on the cold hard seat of the snowplow just dreaming of comfort and AJ. But AJ had been here. She could still feel his warmth; still smell his presence. She heard the toilet flush and water being turned on in the sink of the bathroom connected to the bedroom Skinner had shown them last night. She wondered idly if AJ shaved before or after his shower. Stretching under the thick comforter she grinned and decided to wait a moment to find out. It had been 18 hours and 13 minutes since they arrived at Clews Haven and were led up the hill to meet with the President and General Fielding. The debriefing had been intense, Micah Toblin wanting to find a way to rescue the Harpers and others that might be of use to them. He turned to a pretty woman he called Samantha and snapped. "Concentrate on any Hams in the D.C. area. I want to know who is closest." The woman sighed. "Sir, remember? They’re blanketing D.C. with some kind of jamming device. We're only getting through sporadically. The look the President had given her made her sigh again, but a long-haired blond guy dressed in jeans and a Grateful Dead tee-shirt had hurried over and suggested that they set up an automatic broadcast. Toblin thought about it, and then nodded. Andy Kelly painted a bitter picture of the radio transmissions between him and his dispatcher, as well as the condition of any street away from the Mall. "I didn’t see anyone, sirs," he whispered. When he came to his father’s betrayal, he tearfully looked at AJ, "I’m not, you know. What he said." Sylvia Toblin put her hand on his shoulder. "Come with me, Mr. Kelly. Let’s go find you a bed." AJ stood up from the too-small chair, stepped in front of Andy and considered the young man carefully. Reaching out, he put his hands on Andy’s shoulders, covering Sylvia’s still resting there. "It didn’t then, and it doesn’t matter now, son." Mac fully expected the tears to flow then, but Andy surprised her. He lifted his head, straightened his shoulders and in a tone and manner that would have made her old DI proud, firmly and with no trace of tears, responded. "Yes, sir." Fido, who had curled up on Mac’s lap and slept through the entire meeting, perked his head up at that. Gently, Mac nudged him to the floor. "Go on, now. Go to your master." she whispered. The dog followed the First Lady and Andy into one of the cubicles. AJ looked at his chair, shuddered and began to pace. "What do you need me to do?" Skinner looked at Fielding and the two of them looked at Toblin who licked his lips before starting. "Well, AJ. Skinner here has the best grasp on the overall picture of the invasion. He verifies all the information coming in. If it sounds good or bad – true or false. Fielding is in charge of the security of the encampment, both here and the village at the base of the mountain and any nearby outposts. Me? I’m pretty much the figure-head." He waited until the snorts and derisive denials died down from the people around the control desk and the soldiers standing at parade rest at each of the four entrances into the room. "See. They don’t even treat me with the pomp and circumstance, I grew used to." He continued with a broad smile. "Don’t get me wrong, AJ. I understand my importance. I’m pretty good at this battle of words between me and that fucking traitor, Winslow." AJ and Mac were both taken aback, but realized he used the word for effect and noticed the other men and women around him didn’t even looked aghast - as if ‘Fucking Traitor’ was Winslow’s official title. Toblin looked at Skinner and sighed. "What we need is someone to coordinate counterattacks. Decide, with Skinner and me, what the best places to hit are. Who the people are we need to rescue. We're getting some disturbing reports out of D.C." He glared at the suddenly tense back of Morris who was leaning over Samantha. "When we can break through." Mac had felt her stomach knot and then knot again. She knew AJ, better than she realized and she knew, now that he was relieved of the constraints of normal military protocol, he would insist on going on many, if not all of the so-called ‘counterattacks.’ She would not let him go without her. But she knew she would have to work very covertly to stay by his side. She settled back and listened closely to what they would expect of him. AJ took a deep breath. He had kept in shape all these years. He had been a SEAL damn it. "What do you want to do first?" Skinner gazed at his old friend. They had known each other in Viet Nam, renewed the friendship when they had realized they both worked in D.C. He wanted desperately to have the opportunity to actually get his hands dirty with them, but during these past seven-eight, days he had come to accept that Toblin was correct. He, Mulder and Scully had the best grasp of what was going on. He had developed a sense about whom they could trust and who might betray them. Like with the Virginia police. He had ordered each of them handcuffed and put back in their cars. Soldiers had driven them far north and they were unceremoniously dumped on Dr. Kelly’s front yard. He couldn’t bring himself to kill them outright, but he had made sure that the soldiers dropped hints about where the ‘real’ ‘hideout’ was – a good fifty miles south and east of Fort Clews. And how they had all been on a foraging expedition. He had picked the subtlest of the men to drop the hints and hoped that it had worked. He had also sent men out looking for other deserted gas stations, willing to abandon the one in Allenberry if they had to. Toblin saw Skinner deep in thought and answered the question himself. "What do I want, AJ? I want Winslow dead. I want someone to go into D.C. and kill him." He smiled sadly. "But I’m not willing to waste one precious life on that." He strove to regain his emotions and again, Mac was surprised that none of the other people in the command center even stopped working though she heard a few ‘damn straights’. Before he could continue they heard from the away team. It had been good to hear Rabb and Galindez. It had been a bit of shock to hear from Webb. He had sounded pretty darn good for someone so near death. Better than he had in months, in fact. When they arrived, Francesca had met them and while she had clutched at her father and given Mac a brief hug, she seemed rather subdued and distant. When they had asked her about everyone, she told them that Rabb, Galindez and Webb had gone on a mission. That was when they had heard about Webb’s miraculous recovery. "Webb!" They had yelled in unison. "A look of intense pain flashed across her face. "Si. Jeremiah Smith brought him back from the dead." she whispered. That had been surprising enough, but her next statement floored them. "Evidently he even cured Clayton of his cancer of the brain." "Cancer!" Mac had gasped. But it was Francesca’s final, bitter outburst that had left them speechless. "Oh yes. I am very sure he feels quite invincible. What is alien black oil when you have risen from the dead? It is a pity we are all not as brave." AJ tried to take his daughter into his arms, but she had moved away. "I have to go, Papa, Mac. We are cleaning out one of the houses. Joe thinks he can fix the hole in the roof." She looked up into the snow-laden sky and before either of them could ask who the hell Joe was, she turned and ran down the street. Mac wondered where she had found the fatigues and combat boots that looked like they actually fit. It had explained some questions, but raised even more. There was a lot to learn about their new home. But the learning would have to wait. Skinner had picked up the wish list after they had signed off from the team. "We need to reconnoiter around us. We need to know who is closest to us and what kind, if any, threat they pose. That’s one mission. But first we have to get a team to Quantico." "Why?" AJ twisted the chair around and straddled it. He still looked uncomfortable. "Basically we need an assessment. After our first broadcast, we picked up a frantic radio message saying that the base was under civil war, as it were. Half the camp was hold up in the prison block. The other half was running havoc all over the base. Word of some strange disease striking perfectly healthy men and women. It sounds suspiciously like what Agent Ling ran into with Webb, Galindez and your daughter." "My daughter! Excuse me." AJ stood up so fast that the chair went flying across the room to be stopped by Fielding’s foot. "AJ, we didn’t know. We had no clue. We sent them looking for blankets. That’s all. They ran into real problems and had to fight their way out. The point is…" Skinner took a deep breath. "The point is, I know only one person who survived that infection and lived to tell the tale. That’s Agent Fox Mulder and he is on the away team. Smith says that the black oil is the alien essence and that it takes over a human host." AJ interrupted. "And turns them into those green acid spewing monsters we ran into?" "No, Admiral." Toblin stood and faced down his ‘former’ JAG. "Those are evidently the real deal. We still aren’t sure what the oil does to its human host. Smith isn’t even really sure the form they take. We really don’t want to know if we can help it. That’s what the away team is trying to accomplish. They went to find a cure for the infection. If they can’t, we have to kill the hosts. We cannot save the human components and we can’t afford to have an alien/human hybrid take root on our planet." He turned away from the aghast AJ and ran his hand through his silver/gray locks. "Sweet Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe that I accept what I just said, but I do." He turned back to AJ. "But the point is this. We have word that Wilhelm Deichmann is there, with his family and his staff. If the Secretary of the Air Force is to be saved, along with anyone else down there, we have to figure out a way to save them. Our last contact with them was four hours ago and surprisingly, no one tried to break in, then we lost radio contact in the D.C. jamming. My last words to them were to hold on. We would try and get them help." Skinner looked at his watch. "Ladies, gentlemen, it is 4:00 AM. I suggest AJ, that you meet with Captain Antonelli and the team he has assembled tomorrow at 9:00." They had stumbled to bed, both too tired to do anything but curl up into each other and fall asleep immediately. Now Mac threw off the covers and went to the bathroom. Steam filled the room and as she sat on the toilet she wondered at the hot water. ‘Thermal? Propane Gas? Would it continue?’ One more question to be added to the every growing list. Pulling back the glass door and stepping into the tub, she reached out and hugged AJ from behind. "Good morning, sir." He turned in her embrace and took her face in his hands. When their lips finally parted, she laid her head on his shoulder. "Your meeting with Captain Antonelli is in 67 minutes. That doesn’t give us a lot of time." She whispered as she reached for his growing member. He groaned and pushed her back against the tile. Caressing his hands down her arms and then up a line to her breasts. "Not even that much, darlin’. While you were in here last night, Skinner stopped to tell me that they always breakfast together in the front room here and discuss what they have planned for the day. 0830 sharp." He let his hand rest on her thigh before lifting it slightly. She grinned and bent her leg at the knee, raising her ankle to rest on his hip. He only had to lift her slightly before his cock found her opening. "Damn, Sarah." He sighed as he slid home. She threw back her head and let the pleasure slide over her. It had never been like this with any other man. The sensations were so overpowering she could barely sort them out – the tight ball in her belly that would somehow grow and explode. The heavenly tightness of her nipples, even if he ignored them completely, which he seldom did and wasn’t now. He braced her against the now hot tiles as she wrapped her other long leg around him. He supported her bottom with his arms. Reaching down he licked and worried first one firm globe and then, the other. God, it felt good - Good to be filled so completely. She had to let him do all the work, she could gain no purchase, but she concentrated on flexing her vaginal muscles and watched as the concentration left his face. Sheer pleasure replaced his resolve and he grunted and thrust and she felt his coarse pubic hair caress and worry her swollen bundle of nerves. Arching back to increase the friction, she pushed him deeper and her orgasm took her by surprise. OOOOOOHHHHH Yesssssssssssss." She cried as his teeth found a nipple, increasing her pleasure almost to the unbearable point. She felt him pulse in her and managed to open her eyes to watch him lose his famous control. AJ regained the step he had lost and embraced her against the wall, sealing their bodies and their lips. Holding her to him just like it was the last time they would do this. Because he knew it very well might be. What he had to say might make her hate him forever, but it had to be said because he had seen that look on her face last night. Breaking the kiss, he slowly lowered her till she could stand. "Sarah?" She sighed. It was funny but she knew what he was going to say, why he was going to say it, and how she would surprise him by her response. "Yes, AJ." "This breakfast meeting?" "Mmmmmm." She licked his neck and trailed her hands down his back. "You’re to come to it, too." "Okay." "Antonelli has pretty much been Fielding’s aide de camp. Running the day to day security. Working closely with Skinner and the others." "Yes, AJ." "I’m taking Antonelli with me." "I know, AJ." "You can’t come." "I know that, too." "I mean it, Mac. I can’t take you. I’m willing to throw the regs in the trash over being with you. But I can’t take you on this mission. I have to stay focused and if you come with me, I’ll only worry. I know I can’t keep you safe all the time. I know you're good…" She threw back her head and glared into his eyes. Bobbing up on tip-toe, she kissed him fiercely. "I know all that, AJ. I thought last night that I would fight you on it, but I won’t. I can’t. The battle is too important. I will play the part I need to play, now and later." He eyed her critically for a moment. He saw the passion that he had always loved about her. Not the passion for him, though that was there too, but the passion for her country and her duty to it and the people around her. She would be okay with this. Laying his forehead on hers, he sighed. "Well then, Colonel MacKenzie, I suggest we clean up and get going." :: :: ::
Monica Reyes laid nestled in Walter Skinner's embrace, one of his hands firmly cupping her breast, holding her to him. They had made sweet quiet love last night before falling asleep. They would have to get up very soon and shower if they were going to make the breakfast meeting. She had things that had to be done. She had become the defacto ‘go to’ person for anything logistical around the camp. If they ran out of fucking toilet paper they would probably come to her trying to figure out what to do. She had already sent, on her own authority, two scavenging parties out for more supplies. Now, she had to get with Renee Rabb and Mary Antonelli to see how the reclamation of the run down houses was going. Skinner murmured in her ear and she sighed. "Wish we could, Walter but it’s 8:15." "Shit!" He was out of bed and pulling her into the shower. Quickly, they washed off and as she washed her hair, he got out and shaved. By the time she had dried it off as best she could, brushed her teeth, looked in the mirror and breathed, ‘Fuck it,’ he was almost dressed in his new uniform of the day – jeans and whichever of his three button-down shirts that was clean. She wondered how Mrs. Scully managed, but the two soldiers under her direct ‘command’ jumped to whenever Maggie asked that anything be done. It was working out fairly well, but Monica missed Dana. Missed them all to be truthful, but she missed the redhead the most. They were two minutes early, but still, everyone but Harriet Simms was sitting around the makeshift table. She glanced out the window and cursed. "I know how you feel, Miss Reyes." Micah Toblin sighed as he joined her staring at the snow that was still falling. "Mr. Tiner?" "Yes sir?" The young man asked calmly. He had finally gotten used to being addressed by the President. "Report, please." "Now? Oh yes, of course." He blushed, but managed. "Three feet, eight inches on the most level part of the yard, sir. I checked it ten minutes ago. See, you can still make out my tracks." "Where’s Mr. Kelly?" Toblin picked up a coffee cup and sipped it. Monica went to the ‘side board’ – really a closet door from one of the bedrooms hoisted on makeshift horses – and made a plate of scrambled eggs with freeze-dried chives and toast with jelly. She would meet with Mrs. Scully at two this afternoon and go over what they were running low on. There were kitchens set up in each of the four houses - three of them run by Marines, this one by Maggie Scully, though they all came to her for recipes and advice. Also, the houses down the hill worked together to make sure everyone staying down there had plenty to eat, usually at the cafe. So far, it was working okay. But with Harriet Sims constantly having to rearrange people to accommodate the families trickling in, they would have to at least set up a central store, if not a dining hall. She looked out the window and sighed again. Like they could build anything in this weather. Sylvia Toblin came out of the kitchen with another bowl of eggs. "He’s still sleeping, Micah. Do you need me to go get him?" "No, it can wait, but I hope we can use that snow plow he brought to our advantage." Monica went to sit next to the newcomer, the pretty brunette who had slept with Skinner’s old friend last night. Putting her plate down, she held out her hand. "Hi, Monica Reyes, formerly of the FBI." "Sarah MacKenzie. Colonel, US Marines." Toblin walked to his place, nodded at Skinner and sat down. Walter took one last gulp of the coffee and stood. "Okay folks, let’s get started. I think you all know Admiral Chegwidden and Colonel MacKenzie. We know how deep the snow is. Monica, what’s on your agenda today?" He knew, but everyone needed to know. "Well, I’m meeting with the building team down the hill. Looks like we’ll have another two houses in some kind of living condition by the end of the week. I’m thinking we will need a team to go looking for some kind of beds we can use. A couple of the guys say with the tools that Galindez brought back from that first trip, they can jury-rig some basic stuff, but if we could find some air mattresses that would help tremendously. Olsen says that there's a hunting and fishing outfitter about 15 miles west of here. Plus, he says that there was a car dealer three towns north on the highway that carried all-terrain vehicles and a few snowmobiles. If you remember, sir, it didn’t snow last year hardly at all, he might still have them." She bit her lip and then added. "Also, we're going to have to find a source for heating oil. Most of those houses down there use it to keep warm, though many of them have wood-burning stoves and mostly dilapidated fireplaces. One of the guys was with the Corps of Engineers and he says it would be tragic to save people from the invasion only to have them die of carbon monoxide poisoning." Damn it. It's always something mundane, isn't it? "How many men do you need?" Fielding asked. "Ten. Five for each team. A couple of the women have offered to go - Mrs. Rabb and Anna Kennedy. That will help." She looked quickly at Dr. Kennedy, trying to judge his reaction to his daughter going on an away team. "I can’t keep her here." The medico sighed. He had been damn lucky to get them both out when the ten Rangers ran down the street yelling at him to come with them. "If I wasn’t still the only doctor here, I would volunteer myself. There certainly isn’t any call – yet – for my services. But that’s bound to change and soon. Dr. Scully set up the ‘hospital’ wing downstairs as well as I could. I’ve gotten an inventory of all of the medical supplies. I’m about ready to start checking the kids, just to keep in practice." Skinner looked at AJ and then at Fielding and Toblin. "I think we can spare ten men. We’ve got transport for the Quantico team. Your teams will need trucks. We got enough?" A tiny little woman who didn’t look at all like the Marine Master Sergeant her uniform proclaimed, nodded. "Yes, sir, Mr. Skinner. I’ve got ten vehicles in excellent working condition. Captain Antonelli found another gas station in the town north of here. I wanted to bring up an idea I had, sir." "Go ahead, Tydal." Skinner said. "Well I think we should spread out a little bit. Maybe put some of the supplies and some of the vehicles and even some of the soldiers in Allenberry or even Bartonsville. The town is a lot like this one, mostly deserted." "Why, damnit?" Fielding snapped. "I’ve been coming down to this part of the country for nearly ten years to fish. I don’t ever remember being in these particular towns, but they are all off main state roads. This was a popular part of the country. Why are all these towns deserted? I’m starting not to like this." "Bob." Toblin gently admonished. "I understand your feelings, but frankly, with all that’s going on, we can’t spend too much time worrying about it. What do you think of Tydal’s suggestion?" Fielding shrugged. "It’s a sound plan – if we're sure of our security. I want to make sure we have enough men guarding this position." He looked at Langley. "Can you rig up communications between the two?" Langley shook his head. "We’ve only go two more hand-held ham units. We really need more of those – and no, I don’t know where a Radio Shack is." AJ sighed. "We’ll look for one when we get close to Quantico." Fielding looked from AJ to Skinner to Toblin, who nodded. He cleared his throat and addressed Mac, dressed in the fatigues that he had sent up to them this morning. "Colonel MacKenzie." "Yes, sir, General Fielding." She gravely responded and thought ‘here it comes. I swear he is actually squirming.’ "Antonelli made most of the plans for this mission. In fact, he’s down with the men now, waiting for Admiral Chegwidden. I’m needed up here, but I need someone to handle the security, make sure that we have men posted where they need to be. Field any reports of a suspicious nature. In short I need an aide – you." "Yes, sir. Admiral Chegwidden mentioned that. No problem. Will Captain Antonelli have time to fill me in?" "No. I was brought up to speed last night. You and I will spend the day walking the line." "Yes, sir." "You have a problem reporting to an Army General?" Mac quirked an eyebrow. "Hell no, Sir!" Toblin stood up. "Well, then shall we…." They heard the door in the back of the house burst open and the Marines at parade rest suddenly came to attention. They heard the pounding feet. Bud Roberts burst into the room. "Sirs, ma’ams, you'd best get downstairs. We’ve heard from the away team and we got problems." By the time she was on her feet, Fielding was already right next to her and she heard him mutter. "Of course we do, it’s morning isn’t it?" They made it down to the control room, Morris was talking heatedly to Frohike, but she immediately relinquished the microphone to Toblin. They heard the pain in Webb’s voice when he sighed his refusal to report. Everyone kept looking from one to another while Samantha strove to make contact with General Parker who answered the hail himself. "Mr. President!" "General, it's good to hear your voice. How are things at Fort Benning?" The silence at the other end told the story. "How bad, General?" "The harsh growl shuddered through the speaker. "We were forced to abandon the base, sir." "What happened?" "We don’t know, damn it." The frustration overtook the man for a moment before he apologized. "I’m sorry, sir. It’s just…I lost a lot of men and I can’t explain why." Skinner took the mic, introduced himself and asked. "General, was it an outbreak of some disease you’ve never seen before or was it treason?" "Both!" They listened to a story they were all hearing more and more, some of the Rangers and Marines nodding sagely as they heard their own story retold. A trusted aide trying to kill him, running with his family and supporters to what they thought was a safe place on the base only to find a dense black oil infected anyone it touched. A shoot out, losing more people to an acid green mist. Parker’s story differed because it turned out that his communications officer was dating a doctor who worked for the CDC in Atlanta and had been hearing about strange goings on there and studies about a black oil that seemed to have a life of its own. :: Part 16 ::Division of Labor There was no reason why Mac couldn’t ride down the hill with AJ. She would have wished for more privacy, but at least she got to sit beside him as the Dodge truck made its way slowly down the hill. John Byers drove and pointed out several spots to Andy Kelly who paid close attention. "That spot right there. You see the rock." "Yeah, man. I see it." Andy had benefited greatly from a warm night’s sleep and, Mac suspected, a firm talking to by Mrs. Toblin. While they were waiting to leave she noticed that his eyes followed the First Lady around the room. She knew how he felt. She, too, had missed a loving mother growing up and from the little she gleaned from AJ, his upbringing must have been just as devastating as her own. "You think you can wrestle that monster up here?" Byers slowed to a crawl as they made a sharp switch back. "You mind if I knock down a couple of trees in the process?" "Me? Heck no. Hell, we’ll even find you a couple of Marines to help move the damn things. We just need to be able to get up and down the hill faster." "Do what I can, man." Susan Ling sat next to Andy. She had a determined look on her face. She was going with them to Quantico. She had personal experience with the black oil, the only one left on base who had, now that Webb, Galindez and Mulder were down south. Well, Francesca Paretti had experience too, but no one had even suggested that the high-strung young woman go with her father. General Fielding, sitting next to Mac, neatly sandwiching her between him and AJ, growled, "Ling you sure you’re up for this?" "Yes, sir. There’s little point in pressing my claim as last true Secret Service agent, is there? Your men will protect the President better than I did, anyway," she growled. Fielding sighed and met AJ’s bemused looked, but it was Mac who spoke up. "Excuse me, Agent Ling, I fail to see why you say that. You were presented with an overwhelming amount of information and reacted well when the agent tried to kill the President. It wasn’t your fault that you were shot in the head. Hell, it all happened in 14 seconds." Susan snorted. "A hell of a lot longer than that." AJ spoke up sternly. "Trust me, Agent Ling. If Colonel MacKenzie says it happened in 14 seconds, then it did, not 13 and not 15." Ling raised an eyebrow at Mac who just grinned. Finally, they reached the town that had suddenly transformed itself into a military staging post. Men ran, trucks rumbled, and an air of activity, even in the damn snow, surrounded them. One large group, at least twenty-five men, were checking small backpacks and weapons. Fielding pointed to a tall man talking to a small woman. "There’s Antonelli now. I wonder how Mary snagged a ride this early?" "Actually, sir I believe she spent the night down here. Your daughter, Carmel, stayed with the girls." Susan supplied. They had said their good byes ‘up top’ so after one long glance, AJ strode up to the men and Mac stayed with Fielding. "He’ll be fine, Colonel." "I know, Sir. Shall we begin?" They walked all over the town. He pointed out where men were stationed. "More for quick deployment if we need it. We have increased the number of men down by the old school house to six, though about ten of them are working on it now." "Sounds like a plan, General. What about the outposts? Are we manning the gas station at Allenberry?" "Very good, Colonel, you’ve obviously been listening to everyone around you." "Thank you, sir." They snagged a Humvee and Fielding took her down the small county road toward the schoolhouse to show her first hand, and to introduce her to the men who would be reporting to her. :: :: ::
AJ met the men, listened to Antonelli’s plan, made two suggestions that were well received and then allowed one of the men to escort him to a large IGA trailer. "We’re using this as storage right now, sir. The men are camped out wherever they can find spots." "What’s the total count so far?" "Of men? We’ve got fifty-five now. A lot of them are bunking down in some of the more questionable houses using sleeping bags; some are up top at one of the houses, but I hear it’s really crowded up there, too. But at least we feel fairly safe." AJ studied the young Ranger. "You meet up with this black-oil, personally?" "Me, sir? Nah, I was in the first wave as it were. I got to see the greenie explode. Caught a wiff, but didn’t get too badly burned." He added proudly. "I helped get the President here, sir." AJ jumped down from the trailer after picking out the gear and the gun he wanted. He assumed Galindez still had his, but this piece felt okay and he slid it home into its holster. "I don’t suppose you have a pair of fatigues for me?" "Should have, sir. Mrs. Scully, Mrs. Rabb and Mrs. Antonelli make sure we use the washing machines we have. In fact, Mrs. Rabb should have some at her house. I can run over there…" AJ stopped him. "No need, Rossi, I’ll go. I want to see my daughter before I leave." "Mrs. Rabb is your daughter, sir?" "No, Francesca Paretti is." He noticed how the man suddenly paled, but only spared a moment to wonder. ‘Probably thinks she’s pretty, but he wouldn’t chance a liaison with my girl. Good idea, Rossi.’ He knocked at the front door and heard something that he interpreted as "Come on in." Opening the door, he caught a flash of white blond and heard giggles. Walking down the hall, he found Harriet Sims and Renee Rabb folding a huge pile of clothes. "I can’t believe I’m doing this!" He heard Renee laugh. "I mean lord, I send everything out." A sad sigh and a frown replaced the happiness. "Well, at least I used too. Thanks for helping." "Hey, no problem. Not a lot for me to do ‘up top’ right now. Are you sure you don’t want to move up there with us? There’s still an empty room." Harriet’s back was to him but as Renee reached for another pair of fatigue trousers, she spotted him. "Hello, AJ." Renee whispered. "Should have figured it was you. Nobody else knocks." Harriet turned and her grin grew. "Hello, sir. Already got you working, I hear." AJ had been listening for any other sound in the house, but he figured they were the only ones here. "Ladies. I understand you have some clothes I can wear?" Harriet and Renee exchanged looks and began to go through the piles. Finally, they found several items that they agreed would fit. Renee reached out with them. "Here you go. You can use the first room down the hall. That’s Francesca’s." Renee blushed. "She’s not here right now. I think she’s up at the work site, making sure that Joe Rossi is repairing the roof right." AJ studied the women for a moment. "No, I believe I was just with Sergeant Rossi." Renee shrugged. "Well then, she must be getting breakfast at the café. We don’t cook here usually." He quickly changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt and studied himself in the old- fashioned floor mirror. He was pleased with the fit. He was glad he had kept in shape. He heard a door slam and hurried footsteps. "Where is he?" Suddenly the door burst open and he was glad he had dressed quickly. She stood there, her hair mused and her eyes wild. "Papa! What are you doing? You can’t be serious! You can’t go! You can’t leave me, too!" Her voice turned into a wail and he quickly stepped forward and closed the door, not before seeing Renee and Harriet standing in the hallway, looks of understanding concern on their faces. "Francesca!" He gripped her by the shoulders and gently shook her. "Stop this at once! I have to go, baby. They need me." He tried to bring her into a loving embrace. She jerked away. "I need you. I needed him, but he left me." She began to pace. "What am I to do?" She reached the far corner of the room, spun around and accused him. "This is worse than when you left us in Italy." He gasped at the cruelty of her words. She knew he had stayed away because that was what his ex-wife, Marcella, wanted. He spared a brief sad thought as he thought of the volcanic eruptions near her home in southern Italy. He wondered if Francesca had been told. "That’s not fair, Francesca." "Fair! Fair!" She raged. "Was it fair that I…" She fell to the bed and began to sob. "I’m so afraid, Papa. He hates me. He is right to hate me." He sat on the bed across from her, but didn’t touch her. "Francesca? Honey? Who hates you? Who would have cause to hate you?" He barely heard her whispered, "Clayton," but that was shocking enough. He didn’t have time, damn it. She was a woman full grown and he just didn’t have time for this now. She had worked herself into and out of problems all her adult life and never once had she asked for help. He sometimes wondered if Marcella would have even told him if she had been abducted if he hadn’t witnessed the crime. "Francesca. You have to stop this now. Nothing you could have done would make Clayton Webb hate you. Though why you should care, one way or another is something I don’t understand. I didn’t think you even knew him. But regardless, what we are doing here is too important to obsess over our own concerns. We have to win this fight or we will never be safe." "Oh, Papa. Poor stupid Papa. You don’t understand. We can’t win this. I know! I saw." She stood and gazed down at him. "Go. Go and get yourself killed – if you are lucky." She left him sitting on the bed, stunned at her quiet words. :: :: ::
Webb knelt next to Rabb and stared down at the man he had come to call friend. He hadn’t even noticed when it had happened. He wondered briefly if his will would ever surface. He had never told Rabb that he had been named executor of his will. He knew that Tim was there for Porter, but he trusted Rabb to make sure that she was taken care of. He also knew that he had always thought nothing could penetrate the Rabb shield of luck. God! He had been wrong many times in his life, but this must take the cake. He looked up at the gentle touch on his arm. "It’s not your fault, Webb." Dana Scully looked at him and saw he had that same look Skinner always had whenever he visited his problem child at the dozen or so hospital beds Mulder had occupied over the years. "Yes it is. You weren’t there. You didn’t see…" "No." she admonished. "But Galindez was and he told us everything. You didn’t push him into the ‘thing’. "I should have known." he insisted bitterly. "Bullshit." A weak voice chided. "You couldn’t have done anything except taken the oil yourself." "Which is what I should have done, Mulder. I’ve got nobody. He’s got a wife and a baby on the way. How am I going to face her?" He finished in a whisper. "Well, you’ve managed to get out of that one haven’t you, Webb." Galindez jumped up on to the tailgate. "What the hell were you thinking?" He snarled. "Back off, Galindez. The President told me…" "The President told you to send someone, not to volunteer." Galindez spared a moment to scan the truck. Smith appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Mulder was propped up on some of the bags of clothes they had stolen from the outlet mall. Rabb, though breathing, hadn’t moved a fraction that he could see. Scully sat next to her partner, dividing her attention between the three men before her. "What the hell am I supposed to tell…?" Webb snarled and spun around. He reached out to grab Galindez by the throat, but the Marine grabbed both his wrists. "You tell her nothing! You hear me, Gunnery Sergeant. She made her decision and it was a good one. She doesn’t need to know. Just tell her I…" "Tell her what? That you died out here. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, it won’t be me. I don’t know anything about any decision. Susan said something about Francesca doing something stupid. But I doubt that it's as stupid as this." Victor pushed the spy away and looked at Scully. "How’s Commander Rabb?" Webb didn’t hear her noncommittal answer. He jumped off the truck, grabbing the clothes Scully had found for him from the pile behind Mulder’s back. He stalked into the 7-11 and quickly changed. Stalking back out, he found Captain Vega waiting patiently. "What?" "We’re ready to go. You’re sure about taking the blond with us?" He jerked his head back and Webb saw Marita still handcuffed to the wheel of the truck. "Key." He snapped his fingers at Doggett who sighed, started to say something, but finally reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuff key. "You and Galindez watch out for them. Get them back safely. You know just five Rangers aren’t going to be enough if…" "Look Webb, I don’t know why the hell you are so gun-ho about doing this by yourself, but at least…" Webb took the key from his fingers and walked over to Marita who was staring at him in fear. Kneeling down before her, he ran his fingers through her tangled hair. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I’ve killed more innocents in the past 6 hours than I’ve killed or ordered killed in my entire career. I blame you for that, you and the traitorous bastards who allowed this to happen. Do you think for one moment that I won’t kill you if you cross me?" Marita looked into the icy green eyes. She had been faced with cruel men her whole life - men who would do anything to further their cause. She had never seen the quiet determination that she saw in Clayton Webb’s eyes. Her father and his friends in the Consortium had done what they did out of a fear of dying at the hands of the aliens. There was no fear of death that she could see. She sighed. "No, Mr. Webb. I’m quite sure you would gleefully put a bullet in my head if I crossed you." "Webb, come here for a minute." Vega called him over to where Doggett and he were listening at the radio. After Webb walked away, a shadow fell over her. She looked up at Galindez. Before she could speak, he snarled. "That’s where you’re wrong, Miss. He wouldn’t gleefully do it, but he will do it and it will probably…" "Galindez, get over here!" :: :: ::
AJ swung himself up next to Captain Antonelli who was sitting next to the driver of one of two transport trucks that would carry them to Quantico. They continued to go over the map that Antonelli had drawn from memory. AJ sighed. The base computer was down. Not surprising, but Dr. Morris was getting more and more frustrated because she couldn’t be of more help. He remembered her snarl. "What the hell good am I?" The blonde man, who personified computer geeks everywhere, had retorted sarcastically. "Not a damn thing really, after all who figured a way to tap into the DOD satellite? That hasn’t given us much has it?" "Okay, one thing." Morris had conceded. "Yeah, whatever. Just wait till Frohike gets back, he’ll help figure this mess out." AJ thought the man’s name might be Langley. He remembered the look of rage and longing that had flickered across Morris’ face. He turned his attention back to the map. It looked right from the last time that he had been there. It was a huge base, and he wondered if they were still hold up in the prison block. He hoped so. They wouldn’t have a lot of time to search for them. They drove past the schoolhouse and he saw Mac standing there, watching him. Even through the snow he saw her eyes were bright with tears, but as they passed, she, Fielding, and the men around them stood at attention and saluted. He closed his eyes, willing the picture to imprint on his mind. Though the one he would cherish of the Marine Colonel had her out of uniform, under him, her eyes fluttering as her orgasm swept over her. ‘Oh Sarah. God, I swear I will return to you. Please take care of yourself, darlin’.’ They had decided to go past the turn-off at the state road and continued on for three miles to the main highway. There was little sign of the trucks’ passage from two days ago when Skinner had rescued his sorry butt from that gas station. He wondered how he had managed to miss the turn off, but cut himself some slack. He had been exhausted and the snow was falling. But, he silently admonished himself, that was his one mistake. He, they, couldn’t afford any mistakes. Quietly, he and Antonelli went over where each team of three men would station themselves. The cache of walkie-talkies would come in handy and he was proud when Skinner had told him Galindez had brought them back from the ill-fated shopping spree. As they entered the highway north, they noted that the flow of traffic was still heavy going south. Antonelli pointed. "Look, see those trucks. They saw us get on and they’re getting off. We should notify them back at the base." AJ shook his head. "That’s why we’re there, Captain. If they find the school house, our people will figure it out." "Yes, sir." They rode north in silence, the crackling of the radios only occasionally breaking his reverie. He would have to talk to Francesca when he returned. He would have to make the time, no matter what. He could understand her terror. Couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her. But she had to be made to see that what they did, they did for everyone and if you were able to snatch some comfort from someone then fine, but you couldn’t clutch and hold them to you. You couldn’t keep them from danger. Damn it, what the hell had Webb done to her? What was it that she had said? ‘What is black-oil when you have been dead?’ He shook his head. It just went to prove his point, if he wasn’t there to keep things going smoothly, everything went to hell in a hand basket. Finally, he allowed himself to consider the last report they had received from Doggett. Webb had told them he would be the liaison between Parker and Clews Haven. "Why not, nothing I can do back there, anyway. This is what I do best." And that’s all the spy had said. It was John Doggett who had filled them in on what had happened. Assured them that Rabb was resting, filled them in on how to kill the black oil and the effect that the killing had on any other alien life form. It was Doggett who promised someone would go with Webb, if they had to sneak that person onto the back of a truck. "How long, Captain?" He sighed, reminding himself of the long trips he and his folks had made when he was a kid in Texas. He didn’t like waiting, though in recent years that’s pretty much all he had done. Wait for Rabb to do something that would take some explaining to the SecNav. Jesus, he hadn’t liked the man, but to be gunned down like that. "In this snow? Probably six, seven hours, if we’re lucky." AJ looked up into the grey sky. "Well that will work, we’ll get there at around 1600 hours. Should be dark. Hope the damn things can’t see in the dark." The last words he heard as he nodded off in the too warm cab were. "With our luck they can probably smell us." :: :: ::
Mac and Fielding had just finished going over the security details at the schoolhouse and were getting ready to get back into the Humvee when they heard a radio screech. "Heads up people, we’ve got a truck and Jeep Cherokee headed your way. Looks like they spotted the team getting onto the highway." "Well, Colonel MacKenzie looks like you get to see our people in action." Fielding led her back into the schoolhouse while the driver quickly pulled the Humvee out of sight. They waited for 9 minutes and 37 seconds until the first vehicle finally appeared. When the two soldiers stepped out and blocked the road, the rifles across their chests, Mac followed Fielding out to talk to the passengers of the bright red Dodge Van. A window lowered and Mac felt the tension drain from the General. "Well Mr. Secretary, I see you found us without any trouble." Mac recognized the Secretary of State. Jack Michaels grinned wearily. "Not without any trouble! That’s a laugh. I thought we’d never get out of D.C. Damn place is sealed up tighter than a drum. Thank god, Daniel here," he indicated a young teenager in the back seat, "knew a ‘secret way’ out. We haven’t discussed how he knew, but I’m grateful. I hope you don’t mind, I brought someone with us." He opened the door and walked back to the Jeep behind them. "I had to practically threaten to knock them both out, but they came. Got my Assistant and his wife to drive them." When the back door opened and she saw who climbed out, Mac almost burst into tears. Rushing to the other side of the car, she opened it and reached in to hug Priscilla Harper. "Oh thank God you came." :: :: ::
Walter Skinner paced as he listened to the harrowing story that Michaels and Harper told. People being shot for using their snow blowers to help their neighbors. Stores being ransacked by soldiers and plain clothes operatives, roadblocks keeping everyone in. And the snow! The damn snow! "Six feet, easy." Harper sighed. "The only way we got out was taking the streets they had started to plow before the order came for all the trucks to concentrate on the mall, under the guise of national security." Daniel Michaels grinned. It was still a game to him. "Yeah, dad, you didn’t want to buy the Ram, but it got us were we needed to go." Jack Michaels gazed at his son and held back his tears. He hadn’t told the boy how bad it would be in the coming months, years. He was only 15. He saw the tears in his wife’s eyes. They had waited so long for a child and now? "You were right, Danny. Now, why don’t you and your mother go and find a place to store our stuff? I’ve got plenty of work to do here. I’ll find you guys later, okay?" "Ah, dad, can’t I…" Harriet Sims touched the boy on the shoulder. "Hey Dan, do you know Tommy Fielding?" "Yeah. Oh man, he’s here." Danny shot out of his chair as only a 15-year old can and turned to Fielding. "Sorry, sir. I didn’t even ask. Are Samantha and Carmel okay?" "They’re fine. Sam’s downstairs at the control central, Carmel is with the children. You’ll see her." "Cool." He and his mother started to don their heavy coats. "Oh no need for that." Harriet grinned. "Come on. You’ll get to see the neat stuff before your dad does." She looked over at Priscilla Harper. "Ma’am? You want to come with us?" Pris shook her head. "No, thank you. I’ll wait here. I’m sure there is something I can do. I want to talk to AJ." She looked over at Mac and saw the pained look on her face. "Oh my God. Did something happen to him?" "No Pris." Mac sighed. "Not yet, anyway. We’ll get to that." Skinner filled them in on everything that had happened. Watched as disbelief, then horror, covered the newcomers’ faces when he told them of the black oil and its effect on humans. The Harpers had heard of the acid-aliens, this new ‘infection’ was terrifying to all of them. Jack Michaels sighed. "What can we do?" Skinner looked at Fielding and then Toblin who had been quiet through the entire exchange. Jack Michaels hadn’t been his first choice for Secretary of State. They had rubbed each other the wrong way most of the time, but he had been with him for nearly six years. He wasn’t one of ‘them.’ Toblin was sure of that at least, or he wouldn’t have had Samantha Fielding contact him while they still could. "Did you tell anyone else, Jack?" he finally asked. "Just a couple of close associates like Arnie here." He nodded to his aide who, after driving for nearly 10 hours on little sleep to begin with, kept nodding off. His wife and daughter sat huddled together in a corner, both had refused to leave him earlier when Harriet had offered them a bed. "Arnie was the only one who came with me, though. The others wanted to get to their families first. I can’t blame them and I told them if they couldn’t get here, then to get even further north like you said." Michaels took a deep breath. "I hope you don’t mind, but I left word for Clayton Webb too. I didn’t leave the coordinates, but I did tell him to get out if he could. Shame, Webb’s a good man." "Actually, Jack." Skinner stood and stretched. "The President suggested your name, but it was Webb who agreed with him that you should be called." "Well, where is he?" The whole room seemed to sigh. "Later, Jack. We’ll get to all that later." Toblin sighed. "Now, let’s show you the control center and get your Mr. Grace and his family to bed, shall we?" Home :: cross-overs Index :: e-mail |