::  Tales Of The Resistance  ::

Part  Three
Flight!

AJ Chegwidden smiled benignly at the small group laughing in his dining room. He had planned one last cookout but the weather was so weird. He saw the smattering of snowflakes drift down through the afternoon light. He had made do. Bud and Harriet Roberts were alternating turns, feeding his four-year old namesake off of their plates. Harm and Mac were arguing about the case they were both working on. Gunnery Sergeant Galindez kept sneaking looks over at Francesca who was studiously ignoring him. Dear Lord. What a mess this could be. Tiner was listening to Renee with a glazed expression in his eyes. It was odd how everything had turned out. Renee and Harm were celebrating their first wedding anniversary and Mac seemed to be taking Mic’s departure with relief. When her wedding had been postponed after Rabb’s ‘deep sea’ excursion, AJ had really thought that Mac and Rabb would get together. It never happened. The wedding never happened either. At least not hers. AJ never asked. It was safer that way.

The weird snow was just one more indication of the air around them. It was just a feeling, but something was wrong. He couldn’t remember a time more tense since John Kennedy, then Dr. King, and finally, Bobby were assassinated. The IRA pulling off the coupe of the century. The Middle East a powder keg, only this time Israel had the bomb and everything that Webb had told him led him to believe that they would use it if war broke out. The strange reports of outbreaks of bubonic plague in the southwest. The snow was just one more omen - if he believed in such things. Of course, the strange whisperings in the hallways of the Pentagon made him thrilled that JAG headquarters were located far away from the place. The SecNav had a perpetual air of fear and worry that AJ had never seen before. Something wasn’t right and by God, he was going to find out what the hell it was. But, not now. Now, he was going to wish his beautiful daughter ‘Happy Birthday’ and Harm and Renee ‘Happy Anniversary.’

The phone in the hall rang. He considered letting the machine pick it up but he stood and went to answer it. "Chegwidden." he growled.

"AJ." He recognized the deep baritone.

"Walter? Walter Skinner?"

"Yes. That’s right. We have to talk, AJ." There was a strain in the voice that he had come to associate with his old friend though he hadn’t had it when they were in country together nearly thirty years ago.

"Can I call you tomorrow? It’s Francesca’s birthday. We were just getting ready to blow out the candles."

Relief flooded the other man’s voice. "Your daughter is there with you, now?"

Natural caution made him hesitate. "Yes. Why?" Suddenly in the background, Little AJ squealed in laughter.

"Who else is there, AJ?"

"Why do you want to know, Skinner?" The tension was beginning to get to Chegwidden too.

"Damn it, AJ. You owe me. Who’s there with you right now? The voice was strident but that wasn’t what shocked AJ the most. ‘You owe me.’ He did owe him. Owed him his life. Francesca wouldn’t be sitting here if young Corporal Skinner hadn’t pulled equally young Lt. j.g. Chegwidden out of that fire fight. The wound still ached when it was cold out. It ached now. But in the thirty plus years since then, they had never spoken of it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the man had come to him for a favor anytime over the past three decades, but he never had. To throw it in his face now spoke of the urgency. Still HE owed the favor, not his guests.

Silence stretched between the two old comrades. Skinner finally whispered. "Do you trust them? Each of them, AJ?"

He didn’t even think about it. "Yes. With my life."

"I don’t suppose any of them can handle themselves in a fire fight?" AJ quickly glanced at Galindez, Mac and Rabb. "One or two. Why?" He waited. Waited for the insanity to finally make some sense.

"Listen to me. Remember the code we used thirty years ago?"

"No. Are you insane!" He thought and then sighed, how could he forget. "Yes."

"Write this down."

AJ picked up the pad of paper and quickly wrote down a set of coordinates. Even after all this time he did the convoluted math and nodded to himself. "Okay, now what?"

"Go there. Take Francesca and who ever else you care about and go there. Someone will meet you. He’ll tell you the name of the hooker we fought over in Saigon – the second time." Memories washed over AJ and he remembered Soo Ming’s name instantly.

"Just like that! You expect me to convince these people to just up and leave the safety of my home and go out into the night and drive for…"

"Damn it, AJ. Yes. Particularly now, since your damn phone is probably bugged. You’re on the list, AJ. If you don’t get out tonight you will be dead by tomorrow night – and everyone in that room with you too."

AJ looked up and saw that everyone at the table was staring at him. He dropped his voice. "I just can’t get up and leave. I have responsibilities. I have people I have to answer to.

"I know, AJ. But I need you. What’s left of… AJ you have to come. You’ll understand, I promise. Come." The phone went dead. AJ stared at it like he wasn’t sure what the damn thing was.

"Sir?" Mac gently touched his arm. Francesca, a worried look on her face, was standing just behind her. Rabb, Galindez and Roberts were standing at the table, ready to do what he told them to.

"Nothing, Mac. Just…just an old friend who had too much to drink. Come on, we have a cake to cut."

Just as they reached the table, Renee, who had been clearing the plates dropped them and screamed, pointing to the patio door. AJ rushed up and flung it open in time to catch Clayton Webb as he sank to the ground, blood flowing from his shoulder. "Mac, first aid kit, under the bathroom sink." He lowered the spy to the ground and gently pulled back the ruined coat. The wound was very large and AJ realized that it was the exit wound. "Hold on Webb, we’ll call an ambulance. Roberts."

"Yes, sir." Bud raced for the phone.

Webb grabbed AJ’s shirt. "No. Don’t. You can’t. You can’t trust anyone."

"Why not, Webb?" AJ eased him up while Mac knelt next to him and began to press gauze on the wound.

She looked at the ashen face and whispered. "When were you shot, Clay? How much blood have you lost?"

He managed to shake his head. "Don’t know. How bad?"

"Oh you’ll live once we get you to a hospital."

"Can’t." He gasped out. "Just bandage me up." He looked up into AJ’s eyes. "Sorry AJ. I didn’t know whom else I could trust. Bad trouble’s coming. Can’t trust… Thought I could trust…" His head lolled back and when AJ opened an eyelid, he couldn’t even see the pupil.

AJ stared down at the spy. "Francesca, honey come here."

"Si, papá?"

"Sit here, hold his head for me." Francesca traded places with her father.

Renee appeared from the kitchen with a towel and handed it to Mac. "Here, this should help.

"Thanks." Mac carefully rolled Webb over and cut away the coat, vest and shirt so she could get at the wound. The powder burns on the coat were not lost on her. Someone Webb had trusted had gotten close enough to put a bullet in his back. She looked up and saw that AJ noticed it too. "Easy Francesca, just hold him so I can put this bandage on him. Sir, what are we going to do?"

AJ stared at Webb lying there, nearly dead and the implications of what Skinner had told him finally sank in. "Rabb, Galindez and Roberts come with me. Tiner, take Little AJ with you into my bedroom, there’s a large duffel under the bed, fill it with jeans, sweatshirts, underwear, socks, everything but uniforms. Renee, you and Harriet go to the kitchen and pack everything edible you can find." Renee and Harriet didn’t even bother to exchange glances but hurried into the kitchen. Tiner just picked up the baby and ran to the back of the house.

Pulling his key ring from his pocket, AJ led the men into his office over to the large gun safe in the corner.

"Sir?" Rabb started.

"Not now, Commander. Please. I suspect this may be the last order I give you, but right now you are going to have to trust me."

"I do, sir." Rabb breathed.

"Me too, sir." Bud squeaked.

Galindez said nothing but waited patiently.

AJ pulled out a large canvas bag and began filling it was ammunition. He had just been to the gun shop two weeks ago for the hunting trip he was supposed to go on last weekend. It had been suddenly canceled, no explanation given. He pulled out three rifles, checking each of them as he handed them to Galindez, who carefully stored them in the bag. Then he pulled out the shotgun his father had given him on his sixteenth birthday. For just a moment he was lost in memories but quickly shoved them aside. Opening the large drawer at the bottom, he pulled out his service revolver in its holster and strapped it to his hip.

"Sir!" Rabb’s squeak sounded remarkably like Bud’s had earlier.

"Shut up, Harm." He pulled out a .45 he had bought years ago. The last time he had cleaned it he had considered selling it because he never used it. Now he was glad he didn’t. Holding it up, he asked. "Galindez?"

"Yes, sir." Without another word the Marine took the gun, checked the magazine and looked at the Admiral. "Any more ammo, sir?"

"Just the one box." He indicated the bag. Galindez opened the bag, found the box, took out a handful of shells and put them in his jeans’ pocket before returning the box to the bag.

"Take that out and put it in the back seat of my Escalade. Rabb, Roberts come with me." He led them up the stairs and through to the back of the house. Opening a door they stepped into the storage area over the garage. "Grab that stuff." He pointed to a pile of sleeping bags and a large bag that obviously contained a tent. He looked around and picked up a large cooler and motioning them out the door followed them back down the stairs.

As Bud and Rabb took the camping equipment outside, Renee saw the cooler and came for it. "Are you going to tell us what the hell is going on, AJ?" He met the anxious blue eyes and then looked down at Webb, his head cradled gently by his daughter, his wound being carefully wrapped by MacKenzie.

"Yes, Renee, as soon as we’re ready. Mac?"

"Sir?" She didn’t look up from her task.

"What’s in the back of your ‘vette?"

"Just my suitcase for my flight to California tomorrow."

"Any civvies?"

"It’s all civvies in the suitcase, Admiral. My uniforms are in my garment bag on my back door at home. I just didn’t want to have to make the extra trip in the morning." She paused and finally met his eye. I’m not going back tonight, am I, sir?"

He took a shuddering breath. "No, Mac. Not tonight."

Harriet found two large boxes in the mudroom and packed them on the counter. "Sir, I can’t lift this."

Hefting it easily, he carried it out to the Cadillac. "Harm, you and Bud go in and find towels and the comforter in my linen closet. See if you can’t make a comfortable pallet for Webb in the back of Robert’s van. Pull out the third seat so he can stretch out."

"Sir," Bud offered, "the third seat folds out into a bed."

AJ shook his head. "No, someone tried to kill him. The bed will be too high, we may have to cover him up."

"Sir." Bud continued. "This isn’t just about saving Mr. Webb’s life, is it?"

"No Bud. Now get moving." AJ ordered.

They loaded everything into the Cadillac. Rabb looked around and then went to his small SUV and pulled out the suitcase he always kept there. Then he inspected the glove compartment. Ever since Clark Palmer had entered his life with such a vengeance he had carried the .38 caliber Smith and Wesson in the car with him. He knew that whatever was going on, they wouldn’t be going back into D.C. for his service revolver.

Returning to the house he saw Tiner and the Admiral moving the dining room table out of the way so that Galindez could lay a closet door down next to Webb. Gently, Francesca and Mac managed to move the spy onto the wood. AJ and Galindez reached down and lifted it in unison. Francesca followed, keeping a damp cloth on Webb’s forehead. "We’re going to have to take him out the back and around front, Gunny. We’d have to tip the door to get through the front.

"No problem, sir."

After they had situated him in the back of the van, Mac offered. "One of us should ride in back with him."

AJ looked around and found they were all standing around the back of the van. Little AJ had fallen asleep on Tiner’s shoulder. "Okay people, I’ll make this quick. You all know something is going down. I’m not sure what, but I don’t remember it being this tense before. Someone, who is high enough to know, called me and told me to get out with the people I trust. I realize now that fate has brought us here together tonight. I can’t think of a better group to do this with. I’m not certain I trust the man who warned me, but with Webb stumbling in like this, I would have to be a fool to ignore the possibilities. I take full responsibility for your actions. I am ordering you to follow me."

"Sir!" The chorus of voices assured him that the order wasn’t necessary. Even Renee looked like she would follow him into hell. He suspected that was where he was leading them.

"Mac, you ride shotgun next to me. Harriet, Bud, put little AJ between you. I’m sorry I don’t have a child seat for you to use, I know yours is built-in."

Bud pulled the side door open. "No problem, sir, we always have an extra in case we have to car pool." Grabbing it and a large bag of car toys, he ran up to the Admiral’s SUV and tossed them into the back seat.

Rabb, you drive the van. Galindez, you’re shot gun. Renee, you and Tiner have the back seat. Francesca, baby?"

Francesca hugged her father. "It will be fine, papá. I will sit in back with Mr. Webb. He needs someone to make sure he does not hurt himself."

"Okay then, there’s a gas station down the road. I want us to fill up and we should probably get some bottled water while we're there.

"Some milk too, sir." Harriet spoke up. "You didn’t have any."

"Good point, Harriet. Is there room in the cooler?"

Renee nodded. Yes, I put the meat you had in the bottom and the stuff from the fridge, but there’s room for a couple of gallons of milk."

"Good, then let's get moving. We need to come up with some signals. I don’t want to use the cell phones if we don’t have to."

"Wait a minute." Harriet cried excitedly. She ran to the van and searched the back storage pocket. "Look!" She held up two small walkie-talkies. "We use these in the mall. There’s a three-mile range. But we better get more batteries."

::  ::  ::

She had exchanged her pretty, soft green, blood soaked sweater for one of the Admiral’s Annapolis sweatshirts. And now, Mac stood behind Victor Galindez waiting for him to pay for the twenty or so candy bars he deemed necessary for their flight. The cashier was looking at him funny, but Victor just stood there waiting patiently for his charge receipt. Mac was just happy they had the case of bottled water on a special. The two cars had pulled into the gas station just down the road from the Admiral’s house. A long leather coat covered AJ's gun. Rabb's flight jacket pocket was weighed down by the .38. Both stood outside and filled the tank, but Victor had insisted that he pay for the gas. "Sir, if that ‘friend’ of yours is right about there being some kind of hit list with your name on it, then it’s better this way. No big deal, sir."

That was when AJ had insisted they all knock off the ‘sir and ma’am’ business. "Until we know better, we’re just old friends going south on a camping trip. Got it!" Tiner looked like he was going to faint, but managed to nod.

The snow had already picked up and the flakes melted as soon as they hit the ground. Off to the side of the road, away from the harsh vapor lamps, it was already beginning to stick. Mac breathed in the cold night air and shook her head at the impossibility of it. "Unbelievable."

"Yes, ma’…ac" Gunny stumbled over her name.

Noise and movement down the street caught her eye and she shifted the case to one arm and nudged Victor. "What the hell?"

"Looks like a reserve unit, Mac. Wonder where they’re going." Something made them both search for the Admiral. "Good, he has that baseball cap on." They stared at each other when they realized exactly what he was admitting.

"Shit." Mac breathed.

"Yes, ma’am."

Quickly they deposited their purchases in the back of the Cadillac. Mac pulled out several bottles of water and took them back to the Roberts’ van. Reaching in, she handed one to Francesca. "Is there anything you need, Fran?"

"No. He is very restless. I don’t want to leave him." She took one of the bottles and wet the towel that she was soothing Webb’s brow with.

Gunny climbed into the back seat. "You want me to spell you, you let me know."

"Si, Victor." She smiled sweetly.

"Ma’am?" Tiner coughed. "Excuse me, M-m-mac."

"Yes, Jason?" The Petty Officer’s eyes grew big at her use of his first name. This was really hard on the young man.

"Uhm…. we think someone’s trying to hurt the Admiral, right? And that they will hurt one of us to get to him?"

Mac backed out of the car. "I'm not sure, Jason. All I know is that he’s my CO and friend and I’m going to follow him wherever he leads."

"Oh no, M-m-mac. Th-that’s not it." His eyes flicked to the Cadillac in front of them.

"What is it Ti-Jason?" Gunny snapped. Mac smiled. The Gunnery Sergeant seemed to be having more trouble dealing with calling Tiner, Jason than he was calling her Mac. She wondered if Tiner had dared to call him Victor yet.

"Well if someone’s looking for him, don’t you think we ought to do something about his license plates?" Mac gasped and Gunny swore softly. They remembered how everyone had chipped in and bought him the vanity plates for his car his last birthday. ‘JAG-1’ had seemed like such a great idea and he had seemed inordinately pleased with it at the time.

"Shit, I mean damn."

"At ease Gunny, I know what you mean. We’re going to have to do something, but what? I don’t want to suggest we steal plates, but after seeing those vehicles go toward his house like that."

"Mac." Tiner blushed. "Find me a piece of white paper, okay?"

"Why?"

"Look over there." He pointed quickly to a car, two islands away. "See in the back window."

"Can you duplicate that?"

"Piece of cake, ma’am."

"Stay here." Mac hurried up to the SUV where Harm and the Admiral were looking at a road map, conferring on the best route into the southern Blue Hills. "Harm, AJ."

"What’s wrong, Mac?" AJ looked up.

"Get the plates off your car, sir." She left them standing there, but she was pleased to here Rabb’s heartfelt ‘Damn’ as she hurried back into the mini-mart. She found the small supply of paper goods and a heavy black marker.

Placing her purchases on the counter, she ignored the look the cashier gave her and hurried back to the van. "Here, Jason." In no time he had a very good facsimile of the ‘License Applied For’ sticker from the State of Delaware. Looking at it and at the car just pulling away, she nodded. "Well thank goodness Delaware doesn’t use orange like a lot of states. Walking quickly to the Admiral, she handed it to him and then swore softly. "Damn. Tape, we need tape." She sighed and started to return to the store when he stretched his hand and caught her arm.

"Relax, Mac. We’ll improvise.

They were just getting ready to pull out of the station when three of the four military trucks came barreling down the road, speeding up the eastbound entrance ramp onto the highway. Mac looked over at AJ. "Well, that worked."

"Not for long. I’m glad Jason thought of getting rid of the license plates. I just hope that they don’t figure out I’m not on my way to Annapolis like the decoy message said.

"You don’t think they'll find our cars, do you?" Her voice hitched and he reached out and squeezed her hand.

"No reason for them to look down that little path, Mac. We’ll be fine."

"Then you’re really taking this as a coupe, aren’t you?" Harriet was sitting directly behind the Admiral and was white as a sheet. Turning around, she found Bud clutching Harriet’s hand; his other arm wrapped around his sleeping son’s shoulders. He was scared, but there was a look of determination on his face.

AJ took a deep breath. "We’ll find out soon enough. Find a news station, Mac."

::  ::  ::

John Doggett looked across the lawn; the snow was already starting to stick. He had no idea how ‘they’ had managed this, but 20 months with the X-Files had pretty much raised his tolerance for weird shit, so a snowstorm in November in Virginia didn’t even phase him all that much. He watched carefully for another 10 minutes before he saw Mulder’s signal near the front of the house. With as much stealth as he could manage across a white dusting of snow, he made his way to the back of the house. The lights had finally gone out 15 minutes ago, about two hours after Dr. Fiona Morris arrived home. Doggett was rather surprised that there wasn’t a guard or at least some dogs, but Mulder had assured him, "She doesn’t need them. According to Frohike, Morris probably has more booby traps and alarms that you can find in three hacker magazines."

"Well then, Agent Mulder, how are we going to convince her to come with us?"

"We wait. If she's as important as Frohike thinks she is, then they’ll be coming for her before she gets word of the assassinations tomorrow."

So they waited and for once, Mulder had been right. Not twenty minutes after he got into place at the back entrance, Doggett heard the low whine of an expensive car. He looked back over the way he had come only to find that he needn’t have worried, the snow already filled in his footprints. He hoped that Mulder would contact him soon.

"You there?" The whisper barely registered.

Thank you. "Yeah, Mulder."

"They only sent three of them, but…."

"What?" he hissed.

"Son-of-a…Kersh."

"Kersh, but they arrested him six months ago. You sure!"

"Trust me, I’m sure. Damn, it’s really happening." Mulder sounded completely surprised.

Doggett laid his head against the cool brick and muttered to himself. "I can’t believe he just said that. He’s the one ram-rodding this and he's just realizing this is for real."

Even from the back of the house, he heard the pounding on the door. When the lights went on in the hallway, he carefully broke the glass at the back door. As soon as he did, flashing lights and alarms went off. Quickly, he unlocked the door and ran through toward the front of the house, ducking into a small office, out of sight. Kersh and two others were standing there, guns pointing at the willowy blond Frohike had sent them to get. Mulder was standing behind the three men, shouting. "Hands up, Federal Agent." Old habits died hard.

Doggett hung back and waited. Kersh’s low modulated voice purred. "Now Mr. Mulder, that’s not quite true now, is it."

"It’s truer than you being here, you bastard."

"Regardless, Mr. Mulder, we have three guns trained on Dr. Morris. If you don’t put your gun down now…"

"Even if I put it down, you son-of-a-bitch, you’re still going to kill her." Mulder’s voice rose in excitement and Doggett sighed. There was no getting around it. Thinking of the millions of people that would die in the coming months and years, Doggett stepped out from the room, just behind the woman, his gun raised straight out. Before Kersh or the other two men could react, he put a .45 slug into the former Deputy Director’s head. Mulder shot the other two.

Fiona Morris kept looking from the bodies to the two men still standing. She was breathing hard, her ample chest rising and falling in terror.

"Come on, let’s get out of here." Mulder demanded. "We don’t know if they brought back-up or not.

Morris finally started to shake and pull back from him. Carefully, Doggett approached her and in his best hostage-negotiator voice soothed. "Dr. Morris, Melvin sent us."

She blinked up at him several times before shuddering, "Melvin? Frohike? Sent you?"

Mulder finally accepted that they would have to go carefully, but Doggett was reminded of a 12 year-old ready for the next ride. Mulder kept hoping up and down looking behind him, the gun hanging straight down.

"Doctor, please. We have to go now." John spoke as gently as he could; even he was starting to worry.

She took a deep breath. "It’s happening isn’t it? Just like he said it would." Another deep breath and then she shook her head. "Okay. I have to get my stuff."

"We don’t have time!" Mulder almost yelled. She jerked back and Doggett could have kicked his ass then and there.

"Go get the car. I’ll help her pack."

"Damn it, we’ll get her some clothes on the way, we don’t have time." Mulder whined.

"Clothes! I need my computers. If I don’t have those, you might as well shoot me in the head for all the good I will do you." Morris was suddenly all business. "Come on. I need you both."

Mulder grumbled all the way through to the back of the house where she stopped before a closed door. Punching a number into the keypad, she counted to seven and then punched it again. "Double security. The wait is the key. It changes everyday. The wait, I mean."

Pushing the door open, they were swept with a blue ‘reader’ light and a soft voice demanded. "User Id."

"It’s me, Mary Sue." This time Doggett watched her lips silently count to six before she continued. "Please, may we enter?"

"Granted."

Mulder was just standing in the doorway, almost afraid to speak. Calmly, Dr. Morris stepped forward and pointed to three large steel footlockers. "These are it. But watch it. They are really heavy. If you…"

Mulder snapped. "Never mind, Doctor. We’ll get them, just stay out of the way."

It took three trips. The men had to carry each one together. "What the hell?" Doggett was huffing and Mulder had a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

"This better be worth it or I’m gonna kick the little troll’s ass." Mulder snarled.

"Troll? What troll?" Morris came up behind them. She had managed to run upstairs and throw on some jeans and a sweater. She had a heavy coat on, and hiking boots on her feet. "Should I put some food together while you get the last one?"

"Yeah, sure and if you can run upstairs QUICKLY you should probably throw some clothes in a bag too." Mulder snarled.

"No worries. It’s right here. Melvin told me to be prepared." She opened the door to the hall closet and pulled out a cloth suitcase in the most hideous floral pattern Doggett had ever seen.

They decided to take the Land Rover that Kersh had driven. One, it was closer and two, they both felt they had a better chance of making it up the hill once they reached Clews Haven. Mulder did reach down and carefully rub mud haphazardly over the license plate.

The only way to even the heavy load out was by lowering one half of the back seat and resting one locker on it and one of the other cases. Even so, the springs still groaned as they adjusted to the weight. Mulder shook his head. "Damn! We would never have gotten them in the Taurus.

Morris came up to them. "Well if you hadn’t been in such a hurry, we could have used my truck."

Mulder glared at Doggett and growled. "Truck?"

"Yeah, I had a special suspension put on my Suburban. We wouldn’t be riding so low to the ground if…"

The sound Mulder made reminded Doggett of Moe just before he poked Curly in the eyes. Quickly stepping between the two, he pleaded. "Mulder, just drive." Turning to face Morris, he snarled. "Get in. Please."

They almost made it down the long drive when the lights of a large oncoming truck blinded them. Mulder swerved in time to see the driver as he passed them. "Fuck!"

Doggett had only gotten a glimpse of a bounty hunter once, early in his association with the X-Files, while he had been looking for Mulder, in fact. Once was enough. He remembered what closer association had done to one agent and to Skinner. Both, in his estimation, were lucky to be alive today. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, with all this weight, we sure ain’t gonna out run him."

"If you hadn’t been in such a…"

"Not now, Dr. Morris." The two men demanded.

"Here he comes." Doggett reached for his doorknob, but Mulder grabbed his arm.

"Wait." Looking into Morris’ fear-filled eyes through the rear-view mirror, he quickly explained. "Doctor. This thing is here either for you or me. I’m bettin’ you. Get out quickly, but stay by me. Agent Doggett, try and get behind him. I hear you’re a good shot. You have to get…"

Doggett was already out of the car. "I know what I have to do, Mulder. Dr. Morris, please do what he says."

Mulder and Morris exited on the driver’s side. As he stood, Mulder glared at Doggett over the rooftop. "Don’t do anything stupid, okay? I may kill her if you aren’t around to stop me."

Morris was concentrating on the approaching man so hard she didn’t even retort. She had never seen anyone like the hard looking man who approached her. When Mulder reached out to take her by the arm, she didn’t even protest. "Don’t bother running. He can move pretty fast when he wants." His voice dropped and he pulled her closer as he backed away. "Just be sure to cover your face as soon as Agent Doggett shoots him. Trust me, you have to do this."

"Okay." She managed a whisper. The man never changed expressions but kept coming closer. They were about twenty feet from the car and the man was about ten feet away from them when Doggett stepped behind the bounty hunter and placed three clean shots in a pattern at the back of his neck.

"John! Drop!" Mulder screamed as he pulled Morris down, covering her with his body. The stench of acid filled the air and even ten feet away, Mulder felt the skin of his hand begin to blister. "Jesus…." He started coughing and tried to pull her farther away.

::  Part 4  ::

Discoveries

The afternoon had been a revelation - one that gave Skinner some hope that someone had put some thought into this whole resistance thing. Smith had shown him the trick to the hallway and led him into the side of the mountain just a few feet beyond the houses. "Each house has it’s own entrance. Once the false door has been dropped, then the keypad is revealed. Once the door is sealed on the other side, you can only open it on the other side." Smith led them through the long, dimly lit tunnel until they reached a wide open cavern stretching up so far, Skinner couldn’t see the top. A long steel tower tracked up into the darkness. Smith explained. "The world has become so accustomed to using satellite relays for communication, we have made no provisions to destroy your radio communication system.

"Yeah, so once they realize what we're doing, they’ll just sweep in with their fighter jets and destroy them." Langley pointed out.

"What fighter jets? The ones flown by your Air Force pilots? How many who survive will fight against the resistance?"

"Your attack whatevers?" Frohike sighed.

They had stood there staring at the alien until Byers breathed. "You don’t have any?"

Smith shook his head. "No. Don’t you understand? We’ve never faced this before. We haven’t fought with another race since before we claimed this planet. We are not a war-making race! We have tried everything to assimilate the two cultures. To blend our races, nothing really worked."

Skinner railed at him. "Two BILLION people are going to die and you insist that you are not a war-making race! What the hell do you call it?"

Smith looked like he was going to cry. "That’s why I, and others like me, have made the choices we made."

Skinner and Reyes made a quick inspection of the perimeter of the cave. It was lined with small cubicles, each containing two cots that shared a small head – with one other cubicle. Calling it a bathroom would be giving the steal and chrome space airs. They could hold off a siege for months, if they could find enough supplies.

Reyes asked, "Who built this?"

"The conspirators of Mr. Spender and the senior Mr. Mulder’s consortium. They hedged their bets well."

Skinner considered for a moment. "How many of them are still alive?"

"None, Mr. Skinner. You yourself killed the last one."

He closed his eyes at the pain of the memory of killing Alex Krycek. It felt good to know that he really had been part of it all. He still had nightmares about Alex being the one person who could have saved them all.

He, Reyes and Smith left the Gunmen to figure out all the ‘toys’ now at their disposal. As they were entering the hallway he heard Frohike chortle, "A fully operating transmitter! 100,000 watts! Illegal as hell! Damn! We can reach a lot of people this way."

::  ::  ::

Now, in the late afternoon, he sat on a much more comfortable couch in a much more comfortable room. He was in one of the larger houses just beyond the one where he, Scully, and Reyes had spent the incredible night before. This house had three large bedrooms. One room had a king-size bed in it and Dana had announced that she, William and Maggie could stay there for the time being. After looking at Skinner longingly, Reyes had co-opted the smallest of the three rooms. Its bunk beds and decor showed it to be for teenage boys. That left him with the guestroom, complete with his own bath and simple queen bed. He wondered if last night would have turned out any different if he had gotten them to this house instead of the other

The gunmen opened up one of the other houses saying they could turn it into a men’s dormitory if needed. Frohike assured him that he would leave for Crews Haven in a few hours and wait for Skinner’s old friend from Viet Nam

He sat and listened to the small radio they found. The reports had been spotty at best. More outbreaks of violence in the Middle East. The German Prime Minister had shot himself in the head over some scandal. Virginia wasn’t the only state getting racked by early snowstorms. All over the U.S. and Canada, airports were closing. Seattle-Tacoma International, which had never closed because of snow in twenty years, had already reported 15 inches of the damn stuff with no end in sight. Chicago had announced that no one except fire, police and emergency workers were to report to work. Washington was just starting to feel the pinch, but forecasters were advising that ‘a storm of epic proportions’ was on its way. Vague reports of volcanic activity in Italy and Indochina foretold how those parts of the world would be destroyed. "Who the fuck needs attack whatevers?" Skinner sighed into his Jack Daniels

At least they knew why the cell phones didn’t work even where there was no interference. It was Frohike who explained. "They managed to send a worm to kill both operating systems of MCI’s and Sprint’s satellites. The Internet has been affected too. Of course, when all hell starts to break loose, a lot of .com shoppers will have better things to do than jam the ether. When Fiona gets here, she’ll know what to do." Skinner noticed the wistful yet anxious look on the gunman’s face and was surprised that the little man kept looking at him fearfully

He couldn’t cope with Frohike’s anxiety right now. He had enough of his own. Picking up the bottle of Jack from the floor beside the deep club chair, he poured his last drink for the night. Two was his limit. Not only because he couldn’t afford a hangover tomorrow, but if he drank it all tonight, he wouldn’t have any left. He would have to start organizing ‘raiding’ parties, he thought sourly. He should have told Chegwidden to bring supplies. Hell, he wondered if the former SEAL would really show up? He wondered about a lot of things, but mostly he stared out into the growing darkness and the ever- falling snow trying to think up a plan. Frohike was penning all his hopes on the mysterious Dr. Morris and her computers. But Skinner, while not against computers per se, wanted a more concrete plan for survival. The cavern, of course, was their main hope, and the transmission tower their beacon. But, they needed a draw. They needed someone who could rally the country and the remnants of the military. They needed the President and here Skinner sat, knowing the man would be killed tomorrow

"Walter?"

Skinner sighed and looked up. "Hi." Monica stood in the doorway, her raven hair framing her pale face. The urge to bury himself in her was there, just where it was supposed to be, secure in the recesses of his soul

"We just gonna let it happen?"

"What, the invasion?" He stared back into the fire.

"No damn it! I know we can’t stop that, but the President!" She came and knelt beside his chair and laid her head on his knee. "We have to try. We need him."

"She’s right, Walter." Dana came and sat on the wide stone hearth. Monica started to move away, but Skinner ran his fingers through her hair and met Scully’s glare dead on. She had made the choice she felt she had to live with. He had tried to talk her out of it, but while he wouldn’t hold it against her and he would continue to protect her as he always had, he wouldn’t toss Monica aside because of Scully’s decision.

"What do you suggest, Mon?" Skinner asked softly.

"Can’t we call someone close to him and warn them?"

"Who?" He and Scully shared knowing grimaces. He doubted that either of them could get passed the switchboard.

This time when Monica moved away he let her go, dropping his hand to his thigh. "I know someone. Tommy Edwards is on the First Lady’s security detail. Surely, they wouldn’t have tried to kill or reassign all the old agents. It would have been suspicious."

Scully brightened for a moment, then sighed. "What can one agent do? Besides, how would you contact him? You don't think that every White House phone is bugged. I doubt that his cell phone is working any more than Mulder’s works."

"I can call him at home from the land line. I'm pretty sure he works late for some reason." Monica stood ready to go to the telephone."

"Okay. Though it would be nice to contact Doggett or Mulder to help." Skinner sighed.

"Fiona’s will work." The three turned and saw Frohike standing in the doorway. "I was just getting ready to leave. I don’t know how long it will take to get down that damn hill. Most of the way is pretty protected, but the snow is really starting to pile up. We’re gonna need to score some snow mobiles."

Skinner snorted. "I’ll put that on the list. But what’s this about Dr. Morris’ cell working? She got special dispensation?"

"Nah." Frohike unwound the scarf around his neck and reached into his coat pocket. Holding up what appeared to be a cell phone, he grinned. "Portable ham radio."

"Okay, we get in touch with Dr. Morris who supposedly is now with Mulder and Doggett. You said she was the key to beating the aliens at their own game, though I still don’t see how." He eyed the little man carefully. "Even if this Edwards buys into the story. What’s he going to do? Kidnap the president? Talk him into walking out of the White House? What about Mrs. Toblin? You’ve seen them on TV? You think he’s going to leave her? Say…" He thought for a long time, chewing his lower lip. "Mon, try. Frohike, use that thing, see if they even found Dr. Morris."

::  ::  ::

The green pool seemed to shimmer even in the darkness as Fiona Morris took one last look at it before returning to the car. She had already wrapped Mulder’s hand and put gauze over Doggett’s cheek where the fumes had eaten their skin.

Doggett was already sitting in the ‘shotgun’ position and Mulder held the door open for her. Just as she was climbing in, they heard the disembodied voice of Melvin Frohike. XGKO1 calling CGVR2, come in CGVR2."

Mulder jerked back in surprise and Morris fumbled in her coat pocket. Pulling out a small appliance, she screamed. "Melvin! You’re okay!"

Mulder reached out and grabbed the instrument from her. "Frohike! You made it. Is Scully okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. No problems but hold on, the big guy wants to talk to you."

"Mulder. I take it you got Dr. Morris away without any trouble. How far south are you?" Skinner’s deep rumble was only slightly diluted by the small speaker.

"Well, not without trouble, but we’ve got her and were leaving her place now."

The silence on the other end was so long that Mulder had just started to call him again. "Have you been listening to the radio reports?"

"Not for the past couple of hours, sir. We’ve been kinda of busy. Found a new way to kill bounty hunters though." He grinned boyishly at Doggett who just shook his head and came around the car to stand behind Morris.

"You know what they’re planning tomorrow at the Canadian Prime Minister’s funeral?"

"Yeah," Mulder sighed, "Smith told us in North Carolina."

"We need to try and save him. I’m too far away."

Mulder stared at the radio like it has suddenly turned into a writhing snake. "Sir! He’s in Canada! No way we can…" He was so agitated his hand slipped from the talk button.

"No, there was a change in plans. We’re not sure why, but he’s flying out tomorrow morning. He and the First Lady will attend the funeral and then, supposedly, fly right back."

"Only they’ll never leave the cemetery alive." Doggett growled.

"I still don’t see what we can do, sir. I kinda doubt I can walk up and announce, ‘Hi. Name’s Spooky Mulder…"

Doggett grabbed the radio from him. "What’s the plan, sir?"

::  ::  ::

Traffic was heavier than normal on the Beltway and AJ decided to turn off onto VA 619. They would pass Quantico that way and AJ had a plan. He knew the commandant of the base and thought a quick stop might net him some valuable intel. He was rather surprised at how crowded the roads were. Just south of Fairfax, the traffic stopped and AJ noticed a car that had passed them earlier turn around and go back north on the other side of the four-lane highway. "Oh, oh." They inched along; AJ kept in touch with Rabb using the walkie-talkies. They had agreed on an unusual channel to avoid chatter.

They were within ten cars of the bottleneck when Mac opened the moon roof and stood up on the seat and leaned out. Quickly, she returned to her seat, dusting the snow from her hair. She looked back at Harriet. "Sorry."

Harriet lifted the blanket off Little AJ. "No problem, Mac. He’s sound asleep. What did you see?"

Mac looked quickly at AJ. "It’s a road block, sir…AJ."

"Damn." He picked up the walkie-talkie. "Harm."

"Here."

"It’s a road block."

"Any idea why?"

AJ didn’t bother to answer. He saw the three Marine guards in the road. They were checking for something or someone and no one was going south, everyone was being turned around on an ‘emergency vehicle only’ turnaround. He wondered if there was an alert at Quantico and they were closing the road, or if it was something even more sinister.

Bud leaned forward. "Sir…sorry…AJ, look up to the car in front of the car in front of us."

AJ waited for the Jeep in front of him to pull ahead and then eased over slightly. "Mac! Is that?"

"Oh my God, that’s the SecNav’s limo."

AJ snorted softly. "Well, this ought to be interesting."

::  ::  ::

Doggett turned north. Mulder and Morris had tried to come with him, but Skinner put the kibosh on that. "You’re needed here, Dr. Morris. Mulder, Edwards knows Doggett. If he can convince the First Lady of the seriousness of the threat and can get her to get the President to insist on a drive before going to bed, then we have a chance. If not, we tried. I don’t have enough men to throw away on a snowball’s chance in hell. I just wish I could get there in time to help."

Doggett had agreed that waiting by the Lincoln Memorial in the Taurus was their only chance. Edwards would either convince the other agent in the car with him to flee with the President or if necessary, he'd kill the man. Then they'd have to get away from the two escort vehicles pretty damn fast. Then, Doggett could signal them and lead them to Clews Haven. It wasn’t until they had signed off, that Morris mentioned the truck again. "You know its bullet proof."

Doggett sighed and promised himself that he would find another bounty hunter to kill instead of taking out his frustrations on the scientist. The Suburban rode like a tank. Hell, he bet the damn tires were bullet proof. He hoped so. He really didn’t think the plan – such that it was - would work. Certainly not with just him and Special Agent Edwards. But, it was worth a try and there were a couple of cops in D.C. he thought would make decent additions to the resistance. He would look them up if the plan failed.

Up ahead he noticed the roadblock on the southbound side of the road. Most of the cars had already turned around and he quickly turned on the all-news station in time to hear the latest directive. "No southbound traffic on 95 or 619 or 720 is being permitted. Authorities are not saying why at this time, but we are investigating further and hope to have more information on our 9:00 broadcast." Doggett had just pulled abreast of the two Humvees and a canvas covered truck when he noticed someone being pulled from the back of a limousine and knocked to the ground. He slowed down to watch and was surprised that a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out of a Cadillac SUV, two cars back. Suddenly, the Jeep between the two vehicles did an abrupt U-turn and sped across the grassy slope between the two directions of traffic. Doggett had to stop to avoid being hit. He instinctively ducked when shots rang out and hit the ‘fleeing’ car. A bullet must have hit the gas tank because it burst into flames. Without thinking, Doggett started to open his door to help the driver of the burning car, but the door opened and a Naval officer ran away from the car. More shots rang out and the man crumbled. Doggett turned and was further shocked to see two more men jump from the van just behind the Cadillac. Both men had rifles and were pointing at the soldiers.

The bellow from the SUV's owner was probably heard in DC. "Hold your fire. That’s a goddamn order."

Doggett watched in sick horror as one of the Marines called back. "Drop your weapons or you will be shot. We’re under Marshall Law and no one is allowed past this point."

The man, dressed in a leather coat and blue jeans, still exuded a presence not to be ignored. "Well, son, that’s all very well and good, but you just pulled the Secretary of the Navy from his car. You want to explain that?" That was when Doggett saw the officer in charge of the squad sort of shimmer for a moment. For just a second the bounty hunter’s face was clearly visible, but then the Major’s face was firmly back in place. Stepping forward, the man raised his gun and aimed it at the man who had dared to yell at his men. Doggett heard a woman’s scream, but two bullets struck the Major’s chest, pushing him back, doing little damage. Except of course, the Marines standing near him dropped their weapons and began choking and rubbing their eyes. The Major/bounty hunter shot the man lying on the ground. Again shots ran out to no real effect.

Doggett finally reached a position where he could get a clean shot. "Please Lord, one more time." As he fired he screamed, "Hit the dirt! Cover your faces."

The head exploded quite nicely, the green acid vapor seemed to rise in the sky for a moment before being returned to earth by the ever-present snow. Doggett waived off the people in the cars and walked around the smothering melting corpse.

He walked up to the SUV's owner, a shapely brunette, and the two men with rifles standing by her side. Both weapons were now trained on him. Few other people had gotten out of their cars to come and stare at the sight. The baseball cap came off and the bald man came forward, the surly look somehow reminiscent of someone. "What the hell is that thing?"

"Alien bounty hunter. Who the hell are you?" Doggett stared at the obvious military man.

"Alien bounty… Fuck. Skinner was right." His face went ashen and the brunette went to him and put her hand on his arm.

"Sir?"

"Skinner?" Doggett stared at the group. "You know Skinner?"

The man quickly regained his composure. "No. I…we are on our way south. As I expect a lot of the people behind us are. I don’t…"

Doggett raised his gun and pointed it at the man. "Sir. I need to know. You mentioned my boss’ name. Who are you and how do you know Walter Skinner?"

"Your boss. You’re that fruitcake, Mulder?" The man was incredulous.

"No, sir. I’m that fruitcake, Doggett. Now, who are you?"

"AJ Chegwidden. I received a call from Skinner about three hours ago. He said there was a list and my name was on it. Evidently, so was Alexander Nelson’s."

Doggett surveyed the group behind him. The people in the cars behind the van were scurrying back to their own cars and carefully pulling around them. He eyed the two men with rifles. "Who are you two?"

The taller of the two stepped forward. "Co…Harmon Rabb. This is Victor Galindez."

Doggett shook his head. He couldn’t ask for help. It wasn’t fair and he didn’t know these people. "Skinner told you where to go?"

Chegwidden eyed him cautiously. "Yes he did and it wasn’t back the way you were going, unless he sent you to find us."

Doggett sighed and pulled out the ham radio. "CGVR2 calling XGKO1, come in XGKO1."

"I’m here, John." Skinner’s voice was unmistakable. "You there already?"

Doggett sighed. "No, sir. I’ve run into some friends of yours."

"What?"

Doggett handed the radio to Chegwidden. "Walter? It’s me, AJ."

"No fucking way."

Chegwidden managed a tired laugh. "I believe the proper response is ‘Way.’"

"How in the hell?"

"Long story." Chegwidden looked at Doggett. "I assume there’s a reason you called him?"

Doggett took back the radio. "Skinner. Who is this guy?"

"A friend."

"Someone you trust?"

"Oh. I see what you mean. Yeah. You can ask him. In fact he probably knows him. Give him back the radio, but can anyone else hear?"

"Just his guard dogs, sir."

"Guard…"

"My men. They were at my party. What’s this about, Skinner?"

"I can’t explain over this thing, AJ. But I trust Doggett and I told him I trust you. Make up your mind, but I just hope you make it out alive. I want to see your ugly face again, you old bastard."

::  ::  ::

Doggett explained the plan and AJ immediately told him that he, Doggett, was out of his fucking mind but that he, AJ, was in. Harm chimed in, as did Victor and Mac. Doggett raised an eyebrow and waited, but she didn’t explain. AJ shook his head. "No. Not all of us."

‘Sir. I’ll go. Victor can drive." Rabb stood even straighter than he had been.

"Excuse me, sir, but I’m a better shot than you." Victor ground out.

Mac sighed. "And, I’m a better shot than anyone here, but AJ. So, sir? Who’s going?"

They would have continued the argument, but Renee came up. She touched Harm’s arm gently, but addressed her concerns to the admiral. "AJ. Francesca is getting worried. Webb’s temperature is going up. Either we get him to a hospital or we get a doctor to him. He’s not doing very well."

AJ nodded. "Harm, you’re the speed demon. Get him to the rendezvous."

"Sir!"

"Rabb, damn it. I won’t order you, but you and I studied the maps. You know the short cuts. I can’t take the time to tell them all to Mac. Gunny, you’re on me. Mac…" He looked long and hard at her. He wanted to pull her to him and kiss her soundly before throwing her into the car. But they could use her. She was a good shot and this was important. "…go on. You can drive."

"Yes, sir." She went back to the SUV and pulled out the canvas bag.

"Bud, you drive the SUV. Harriet, watch your son."

Harriet came up and gave him a hug. "Be careful, sir."

AJ walked back to the van. "Francesca?" Crawling in the back seat, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Li amo la mia figlia."

"I love you too, papá. Come back to me safe."

Looking down at the deathly still spy, he remembered all the times that Webb had pissed him off. "Take good care of him for me, Francesca." He whispered. "I owe him my life."

As he walked to the Suburban, he considered what they were about to do and remembering how they had rescued Tim Fawkes, found himself wishing Webb was with them on this ridiculously impossible mission.

Part 5 - 6

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