From salian@magna.com.au Tue Dec 31 22:35:52 1996 See Part one from disclaimers and possible explanations. Treat this as you would any episode of the X-Files. Pick it to pieces - dispute everything. In fact, I issue a challenge, see if you can spot a discrepancy I've missed....and believe me I should know them all - I could sing this tale in my sleep (not that anyone in their right mind would want to hear me sing ). A CASE WORTH INVESTIGATING: By Sally-Ann Maslen & DJ Rout Part 4 of 7. ********************************** Humming softly under his breath Mulder steered the car south. He didn't know where he was headed......his original plan to trace the utility truck forgotten.....It was futile anyway, the truck was long gone. The discovery of the disc changed everything he thought, glancing at the black circle on the seat beside him, . He pulled to the side of the road. 10 minutes later... Back on the road Mulder drove on auto-pilot, oblivious to scenery, the ruts of the road barely registering as he reviewed each moment of the last 24 hours. The battered red Ford came out of nowhere....a side road maybe....Mulder didn't really notice, only that it was suddenly there. He drove on. The Ford kept a safe distance. Mulder finished his mental jigsaw and turned his thoughts to Scully... The impact threw Mulder into the steering wheel. Gasping for breath he looked up at the rearview mirror - the Ford had pulled back, gearing for another ram at his rear bumper. Mulder hit the gas pedal. The Camaro was good, but whatever that Ford was packing under its' hood wasn't standard - it took the challenge and kept coming......once, twice, three times it rammed the back of the Camaro. 'THUDK!' Mulder could hear the bruises on his chest forming as he scrambled for control...and his seat belt..... He sped ahead. The Ford fell back. Mulder's thoughts were wild, . The Ford was gaining, The Ford slammed into the left rear fender. The rasp of metal against metal shattered his reverie. Mulder grappled for control. The Ford hit again.....and again and again. Metallic sparks sprinkled against the crispness of the morning sky - a pretty sight.....if it wasn't for the ear shattering screech.... Mulder's hands slipped from the wheel. Without his guidance the Camaro chose its own path, spraying gravel and dust into the air as it headed for its spiritual home in the shoulder of the road. Sweatslick hands fought the steering wheel for control. The Camaro shuddered and whined in protest, but Mulder won the battle. The Ford continued it's onslaught. The next impact ripped the handle from the drivers side door. Mulder's nerve endings screamed in sympathy and he lost his grip on the wheel again. Instinctively he hit the brake - the car seared rubber across the road as it swerved out of control. He had a brief glimpse of a close cropped head and a twisted, sneering smile before the Camaro left the road and slammed into a tree. Everything went black. Scully forced her attention back to the situation. Mulder, wherever he was, could look after himself. Scully had to pay attention to everything, in case Deep Throat (somehow she couldn't say that without thinking of Linda Lovelace 'doing her thing' on scratchy, out of focus, videotape) made a slip. "Did you know the blonde man that shot you - " "Yes." "Er. . .is dead?" "I didn't know." "Where do you get such people?" Scully demanded. "He was prepared to set himself on fire to protect the secret of Delta Glen." "Well, to answer that." The grey-haired man paused - answering did not come easy to him. "To answer that - he's a fanatic. Dedicated to a cause he knows nothing about. He follows orders because they are orders." "Well, well. How do these people live? What do they do on their time off? Where do they sleep? Who do they see socially?" Scully was thinking: prove to me they're human beings! "Sir, " said Jedburgh. Blaine was coming round. He moved himself upright, trembling. He saw Scully and smiled crookedly: "Didn't see that one coming." "Are you all right?" asked Scully? "I've been worse." Blaine looked up at Jedburgh, camouflaged with his machine gun at port arms, as relaxed as a cocked sixgun. "But I don't think I've been in worse trouble." Scully held her hand up in front of Blaine, "How many fingers am I holding up?" Blaine winced as he probed the bump on his head, "3. Really...ah'm OK, Miss Scully," He looked up at Jedburgh and at Deep Throat and sighed, "Friends of yours?" Despite the situation Scully smiled, "The jury's still out on that one?". She sat beside him on the couch. Deep Throat came round to face them, bending down to pick up the tin box. Blaine was quicker, snatching up the container and cradling it protectively in his arms. "I think that b'longs to me." "Mr Paxton, the information contained in that box and in that book," he indicated the notebook Scully still held, "is the best proof we have that you and others in this county have been used as guinea pigs for decades." "If you all know so much about it - why ya need me and tha book?" Scully smiled inwardly, she was proud of him - despite his personal beliefs he wasn't about to fall for any line. She wondered where Mulder was. "Since the 1950's the government has been systematically conducting experiments in genetic manipulation on the people of Mullerville.....they have taken them from their homes and altered them....you know what they did to you....and they will continue to do it unless we can shut it down." Deep Throat's voice was sincere and convincing. Blaine shot Scully a glance. Her face was set with a look of grim determination. Mulder would have recognised the look - it said 'Trust No One'. Blaine understood. "Listen, mister, I have some quest...." Blaine stopped mid sentence. "Someone's coming.." Jedburgh was a blur as he moved beside the front window, weapon cocked and ready. Scully pulled her gun and ran low to crouch on the other side. Blaine and Deep Throat froze in place like a crazy wax tableau, one seated, one standing. Scully switched her attention from the window to the two men and saw as Blaine suddenly let out a breath and relaxed. Three seconds later the children ran from the side of the house - two boys and a girl, aged 8 or younger - calling & giggling, urging each other to run faster. They passed from sight. "Tha Jenner kids" Blaine explained, "They like ta pretend thay're brave, using this place as a shortcut." Scully came away from the window and stood beside Deep Throat, Jedburgh remained on guard. "And you knew or heard them coming," Deep Throat asked. "Sensed 'em first, then heard 'em." Blaine looked up at Scully and shrugged lightly - there was not much point denying it. "Why didn't you sense....???" Scully waved towards Jedburgh and Deep Throat. "Sometime it don't work....sometime it's just a feelin'....or I just do it....like with the cups." "The cups?" Deep Throat was puzzled. "The coffee cups," Blaine explained looking at Scully and nodding towards the cellar. "I bought 'em a week ago but didn't know why till yesterday." Scully thought of the cups as she'd first seen them downstairs - three solid, sturdy mugs with initials on them - B, F & D. She made the connection. "Blaine, Fox & Dana....you knew we would be here." "Not really, not ta yesterday" Blaine shook his head in thought, ".....funny, one time it seemed Ah always knew when someone was coming and why...." He looked up at her. For a moment Scully saw something in Blaine's face - something oddly familiar. Suddenly she realised - it was the same look Mulder would give her when he wanted her to play along some story he was setting up. She played. "But now you don't?" asked Scully. "Right." "Did this just happen suddenly, or has it been a gradual loss?" she continued. "All on a sudden, I guess. Seemed I used to know everything that was gonna happen, then - " he sliced his finger across his throat " - zip." "Mr Paxton, " said Deep Throat, "I have a truly revolutionary idea for you." And Jedburgh said: "God Bless the Republic of Texas." Scully suddenly realised she was in over her head. "God Bless the what?" Scully gasped. "The Republic o' Texas, I thought he said, " said Blaine. "Texas hasn't been a republic since - " "1840, " said Deep Throat. "One hundred and fifty years of carrying the rest of this country - through two world wars, the Depression. Four of the six largest cities in the United States are in Texas, Miss Scully. We have our own language, our own culture, the memory of the Alamo and the glorious figure of Sam Houston - " "Wait!" Scully had to interrupt this tirade. "I don't understand why you'd want this, " she indicated Deep Throat. "You, of all people." "Miss Scully, you know nothing about me. There've been times I regretted that, but regrets don't last very long. I have sometimes been loyal to the United States, and sometimes to causes greater than that, but I've never lost my love for Texas." "Neither of us have lost our loyalty to Texas, Miss Scully, Mr Paxton, " said Jedburgh. "None of us. But it seemed for some time that our quest for nationhood was thwarted at every turn. We had to stay part of the Union to protect ourselves from the Germans, then the Russians, then the goddamn Mexicans tryin' to conquer us again. Come along about 1957 and we saw we had to stay part of the Union to stop the other invasion." "Communists?" Scully snorted. "Possibly Communists, definitely aliens, " said Deep Throat. "You'll be begging my pardon, " said Blaine, "if I ast you what this's got to do with me." "Mr Paxton, the Sons of the Yellow Rose - " "Want you, " Scully finished cynically. At first there was only darkness, then slowly he became aware of it - a low throbbing sensation that was both pleasurable and painful. Very carefully, without opening his eyes Mulder lifted his head. Not a good idea - a groan escaped his lips, he carefully opened his eyes. The sunlight was streaming through the shattered windshield. He quickly closed his eyes again as the pain in his head increased. Breathing steadily for a moment, he tried again, this looking aware from the window. It worked - the headache was still pounding but his focus had improved. He sat back slowly, and looked around. The car had clipped the tree and skidded, coming to rest against a barbed wire fence. Mulder got out of the car, wincing as he added new names to his catalogue of body parts capable of bruising. He inspected the damage to the vehicle - the driver's side had taken quite a beating - he was surprised he'd was still in one piece. Mulder checked up and down the road - not a thing in sight. He pulled out his cell phone and dialled Scully. "They want your notebook, too, " said Jedburgh. "Yes, Mr Paxton, " said Deep Throat. "Records of the names and birthdates of the most psychically gifted people in the United States. Absolutely proven to be the most gifted citizens in the Union." Blaine looked from one to the other. "Surely you coulda just killed me and got that?" "You'd've seen it coming, " said Scully. "That's what we thought, " said Deep Throat. "But when the FBI began to investigate our timetable had to be moved ahead." "Mulder and I didn't know anything about this!" "We didn't know how much you knew. One of our prime sources was shot by a hick Sheriff in Wisconsin." The sudden beep of the phone startled all of them - all except Blaine that is. The young man had anticipated the call. "It's Agent Mulder" he said, "Don't worry - He's more bruised than battered" Scully's eyes widen with concern as the meaning of his words sunk in. Mulder had been hurt. She pulled her phone from her jacket pocket. "Don't Miss Scully. I don't want Agent Mulder involved.....yet." Scully fixed him with a steel blue glare, "You heard what Blaine said - he's been hurt." "He also said he wasn't badly hurt," rumbled Jedburgh. The phone continued to beep. "If I don't answer - he'll come looking." stated Scully Jedburgh and Deep Throat exchanged looks and Deep Throat nodded. Scully put the phone to her ear, "Hello." "Scully, Are you alright?" "I'm fine Mulder" "What took you so long to answer. Or shouldn't I ask..." he questioned lightly. Not that it was much indication - she'd known him start making jokes within minutes of waking from a coma. "I was down in the cellar getting some coffee." lied Scully, "Are you alright - Blaine says you had some kind of accident." "You could say that. Someone took a dislike to my choice of rental car. I take it Braidwood hasn't turned up." Scully eyed the two Texans across the room, "No...no Braidwood." "Look - I'm coming back to get you and....." Blaine was shaking his head furiously. "Just a moment Mulder - what is it Blaine?" "Tell Mr Mulder it's best we go our separate ways for now. "Mulder, Blaine says..." "Yes Scully I heard him. Does he have any suggestions?" Scully relayed the question. Blaine glanced over his shoulder at the Texas pair, "'Bout 3 miles in the opposite direction to what he was driving is a truck stop. We can meet there in about an hour." Scully passed the oddly worded directions. She realised what Blaine had done - he knew exactly where Mulder was, but didn't want the other two men to know. If Mulder thought the instructions odd he gave no indication, "Alright I'll meet you there. Don't be late." "OK Mulder - Take care." The call ended. "So, " Blaine said, "you know our timetable. Mind if I ask you one thing? How you gonna get these people to cooperate?" "Mr Paxton, in spite of some of the things I have done - and they've been things I regret - none of the Sons of the Yellow Rose are monsters. We come from the richest part of the country - funded by oil, mining, banking, insurance. . ." "In other words, bribe them?" asked Scully cynically. "Pay them. Those we can't convert, we cajole. Those we can't cajole, we compensate. Those we can't compensate, we pay. Those we can't pay, we ignore." "And those you can't ignore?" asked Scully. "Don't exist," Jedburgh said. "Think of it as a kind of Rand Corporation, Miss Scully, " said Deep Throat. (Scully baulked a little - she couldn't speak to the man and keep calling him 'Deep Throat.' Mr. . .Throat? Did that work?) "Instead of the application of intellect and science, we apply clairvoyance, telekinesis, psychometry, astral projection, the gamut of psychic abilities to problem-solving." "Presumably the problem of Free Texas, or whatever it is." "Yes, of course." said Deep Throat. Scully noticed that slip. But Deep Throat, for all that she knew little about him, didn't seem the sort of person to make mistakes like that. If he implied there was something other than the Sons of the Yellow Rose, there certainly was - but what was it? Jedburgh seemed to be a full-on Free Texan. In Deep Throat's terms, he'd been converted, not cajoled. A C-word Deep Throat had forgotten about suddenly leapt into Scully's mind. 'Compromise. 'Those we can't ignore, we compromise,' she thought. She glanced at Blaine - he was looking at her, but seemingly going to great pains to seem like he was not concentrating on her. She turned back to Deep Throat, looked him right in the eye: "Mulder would love this, " she said. "Of course he would - and I appreciate that. I'm prepared to assist him in any way to discover the truth - " "But not the whole truth, " Scully interrupted. "No, Miss Scully, not the whole truth. But what was done here is the work of evil men. The products of their experiments are not to blame for those experiments." "They're just tools to be used, " said Blaine. Mulder got back in the battered Camaro. He pondered Blaine's instructions "3 miles in the opposite to which he'd been driving" - that would take him back in the direction of the Parmentier farm. There had to be something going on. Something Blaine was trying to warn him about . He thought about Scully - the amount of time it had taken her to answer the phone, the cautious way she confirmed Braidwood's non-appearance, and most of all, those three words - 'I'm fine Mulder.' Seven times out of ten when she said those words she really was fine - but the other 3 meant the exact opposite. It had almost become a code between them, a little signal that things weren't quite as fine as they said. Fox was willing to bet that this was one of those times. Mulder started the car and turned it towards the farm. The Camaro didn't sound healthy - he would have to get rid of soon. He nearly missed it. A flash of blue hidden in the trees a little over three miles from his last location. Mulder pulled over to the side of the road. Sliding across the seat to passenger side (the drivers door having decided to stay shut), he got out and investigated. A screen of branches hid a battered land rover. Mulder tried the door - it opened. The interior smelt strangely of chilli burgers and wet dog. He checked the ignition - nothing. A short search revealed a set of tagged keys under the seat. The enamel tag read BP. Mulder grinned. He moved the 4 wheel drive out of it's hiding place and replaced it with the Camaro. Back on the road he headed for the Parmentier place. Driving steadily, Mulder kept one eye on the rear vision mirror - so far the only other traffic was a hay laden pickup truck that passed him just after he left the Camaro's hiding place. He glanced at his watch - the glass had shattered . He reached over and turned on the radio. "....by Dwight Yokam. It's 20 past the hour and coming up in the news - 4 car pile up on interstate 14, Hilary Clinton heads to Memphis to speak at the Southern Women's Health conference, Government sources warn..." Having confirmed the time Mulder turned off the radio. Scully had the certain impression that Mulder was nearby and getting closer. Recognising the feeling, she looked casually at Blaine, who was sitting quietly on the couch, one muscled forearm resting easily on his thighs. He was not looking at her, but she was starting to believe in telepathy. Normally she'd've been trying to explain this away. Of course, she thought, (or she would normally have thought, she thought) she was bound to think Mulder was close by. She wanted so badly for him to see Deep Throat. "I guess we can go, then, " said Blaine. The certainty in Scully's mind died away, but was still there, either because she remembered it or because Blaine couldn't do two things at full strength. There were limits, then, to his powers. "You've always been free to go, Mr Paxton." "How come he hasn't put his gun down?" Jedburgh obligingly rested his rifle butt first on the floor. "So, now we just go?" asked Scully. "Even though we've seen you?" "What good will that do?" asked Blaine. "These gents can sure hide theirselves." "But - " Scully had desperately to think of something to keep Deep Throat there. What was that going to be? County Sheriff's Office Braidwood didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. No one had seen the FBI agents since Agent Mulder had returned from his late snack attack the night before. When the Sheriff had gone to check on them he'd found the deputy he'd assigned to watch the hotel asleep and the agents' rented Camaro gone. Regular patrols and calls to the FBI field office in Memphis had so far produced no trace of them and Braidwood was worried. Somehow he didn't think these two had been scared off like the Doctor thought - their luggage was still at the Royale and neither had struck him as a quitter. Tom Braidwood wasn't dumb. He knew the abductions and experiments were legally and morally wrong, but when Mullin had approached for help all those years ago he'd agreed. He had know the Doc since his family had moved there when he was 6 and had always trusted the man. He had also just returned from his second tour of duty in 'Nam and was feeling angry enough at the world to do anything. Mullin's talk of making America a stronger country and besting the commies got to him and he went along readily. That ideal had long since passed but he still was working with them. Lately, however he had began to experience doubts - the disappearances had been increasing. He was beginning to suspect that the Doctor was keeping something from him; and then there was that texan colonel and the gray haired man - the one with no name. Why had they turned up so suddenly? Usually it had been left to him to deter anyone who'd started sniffing around. There was a tap on the door and Gus Mullin entered, "Found them yet?" Braidwood shook his head, "No. I tried calling you - where ya been all morning?" "At Sandy Paxton's - she needed a shoulder to grieve on. ......Tommy Boy, we might have a problem - Blaine Paxton hasn't been seen since yesterday morning." "Shit!," said Tom. If somehow Paxton had met up with the FBI people they were in bigger trouble than they had earlier thought. He sat thinking for a moment then stood up and grabbed his hat as he headed for the door." "Where you going ?" asked Mullin. "To find Paxton before Agent Mulder does." ***************** End of Part 4 From salian@magna.com.au Tue Dec 31 22:35:43 1996 See Part one from disclaimers and possible explanations. Treat this as you would any episode of the X-Files. Pick it to pieces - dispute everything. In fact, I issue a challenge, see if you can spot a discrepancy I've missed....and believe me I should know them all - I could sing this tale in my sleep (not that anyone in their right mind would want to hear me sing ). A CASE WORTH INVESTIGATING: By Sally-Ann Maslen & DJ Rout Part 5 of 7. ********************************** Braidwood shot out of town on the old post road, leaving noise and startled woodchucks behind him. He knew, or thought he knew, all of Blaine Paxton's haunts. There was a truck stop and diner fourteen miles out toward Parsonville where Blaine sometimes sat and chatted up Susie, the waitress. Then there was the Hatfield chicken ranch, where one of Blaine's friends lived. Then the 'coon lodge up on Chickapeck Ridge. The main thing was that Braidwood knew these places and Mulder didn't. So the Sheriff would be able to find Paxton before Mulder did. Had Mulder known the Sheriff was racing out of Mullerville in almost exactly the wrong direction, he might've been a bit calmer about his own driving. As it was, he drove a fine line between moving violation and Evel Knievel. The noise of Blaine's truck obscured the faint roar of chopper blades, so Mulder didn't look up from the road to see a black chopper cruise over at treetop height. Mulder counted off four miles by the odometer and slowed down to hunt out a track back into the woods. He found one off to his left, checked the road for any traffic, and lurched up the embanked roadside about half a mile from the Parmentier farm. He removed the keys and returned them to their place under the seat. As he did he felt the keys bump against something. He withdrew an small white envelope. It was marked 'FBI'. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a few lines of writing, 'Dear Sir, There is a backpack on the backseat. I think you may find it useful. Yours Sincerely Blaine Paxton' Mulder experienced a sudden shiver. Cryptic directions over the phone was one thing - but this was.....spooky..... He found the backpack and opened it. A pair of binoculars, a length of rope, a small first aid kit and a few other items filled it - some surprising. Buried at the bottom was a piece of paper. Mulder opened it, expecting another note. It was instead a docket from the County General Store for the purchase of the rope and the first aid kit. It was dated 3 days ago. Fox Mulder decided he didn't have time to deal with the questions it raised. He slipped the pack over his shoulder and headed for the farmhouse. Jedburgh answered a beep from a small radio clipped to his belt. "Go ahead." Scully and Blaine froze, waiting for Jedburgh to finish his conversation. Deep Throat waited patiently. not looking at anyone really, but keeping his attention focussed on Scully, Blaine and Jedburgh. Jedburgh said: "Approaching?" Jedburgh said: "Leaving?" Jedburgh said: "Proximity?" Jedburgh said: "Sir? Blue pickup approaching. Proximity one half-mile. 4WD approaching. Proximity two and one half-miles." Deep Throat turned to Scully. "I'm very proud of Agent Mulder. A very resourceful young man. I think you show a great deal of promise, too. Pickup, Colonel." Jedburgh said "Pickup," into his radio and picked up his gun. "Wait!" said Scully. Deep Throat turned back, looking his own question. "I thought you wanted to keep your presence at secret." "I do Miss Scully. That is why the Colonel and I are leaving before Mr Mulder returns." "What's to stop me telling Mulder about you?" "Nothing what so ever Agent Scully. Since we will be taking Mr Paxton with us, it is really only your word." Deepthroat nodded briefly to Jedburgh. Before Blaine or Scully could react the texan had the young man firmly in his grip. Collecting the notebooks and box from the floor Deepthroat, "In the end it doesn't matter what you tell Mr Mulder. By time he begins searching for us we will have disappeared." "Since you're already *dead* no-one will be able to prove you were here." "Very good Agent Scully." Deepthroat was pleased. Scully ignored his smile, "What about Blaine? How are you going to explain his disappearance? Another abduction? Or maybe a conveniently arranged death - like your own?" "Rest assured Miss Scully. No harm will come to the boy." Scully studied the man, "As long as he does what you want." She was still trying to stall him, willing Mulder to arrive before the two 'Sons of Texas' left. She looked up at Blaine. His face wore the blank expression she had come to associate with his 'talents'. She hoped he was urging Mulder to move faster. Sheriff Braidwood brought his car to a shuddering, smoky halt on the Dalgleish Road about four miles from the Hatfield's ranch. He thumped the dashboard in frustration: "Now, what the hell am I doin'?" he asked the car. It had suddenly occurred to him the Blaine Paxton absolutely had to be at the Parmentier farm. "Where the hell else?" he asked, spinning the car into a frantic U-turn. The siren wailed to life, then yelped its urgency along the almost deserted blacktop. He flicked the radio on. "Randy? You mobile?" "Yeah, Chief." "Get your ass out to the Parmentier farm." "You crazy, Chief? You know that place is - Well, anyways, I'm about a half hour from there." "Damnation! We gotta get more'n three deputies in this town. Do the best you can." "I'm on my way." Braidwood span right, up a steep incline to a little used firetrail that cut a switchbacked, wavy line from the Dalgleish Road to Little Elk Lane. The County fire department kept it free of debris (he hoped) and the car's high wheelbase ought to get him over the lumpier parts pretty well. Besides, he smiled, he needed the exercise. Mulder was beginning to think he didn't need the exercise. As fit as he liked to be, he found that backpacking through bourbon country was losing its appeal. What drove him on was the desire to save a man of Blaine Paxton's undeniable talents. He was less than half a mile from the Parmentier house, assuming his sense of direction was worth anything at all, because he still couldn't see it, and the unkempt bush was fighting him every step of the way. Braidwood nearly killed someone as he shot across Little Elk Lane, cutting a more or less straight line along firetrails to the North of Mullerville. Two more trails, a left turn and he would be bearing down on the Parmentier farm from the North. If Agent Mulder found Blaine Paxton, Braidwood could see a future of himself languishing behind bars at the Federal Prison in Meadowlark, Luoisiana. An ex-Sheriff in prison. . . Mulder found a rain-etched gully free of tangled underbrush and trotted down it, risking a broken ankle- hoping that wasn't a siren he could hear faintly. Braidwood swerved slightly as a small critter of indeterminate description skittered across his path. He reached and turned off the siren. In the silence he cursed both the animal and himself. It should have occurred to him to get Blaine out of the way. The removal of the monitoring discs would make it make even more difficult to keep tabs on the boy. The Project's greatest success was also it's biggest threat. The only thing that gave Braidwood satisfaction was that he had warned Doc Mullin against choosing the younger Paxton twin. The doc thought the quieter Blaine would be easier to control, but he hadn't counted on the boy's will. Even with the inhibitor Blaine Paxton seemed anticipate the Sheriff's actions. He knew Blaine had been talking to the townsfolk and spooking around the Parmentier place, but he could never catch him at it. Lost in his thoughts he didn't see the figure emerge from the stand of trees edging the fire trail. A thud and his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something dark crashing back into the trees. He braked and looked back - there was nothing to see. He contemplated getting out and going to look, but the need to find Paxton was greater. Without a backward glanced he gunned the engine and sped on. Mulder pushed himself up from tangled tree roots and gingerly felt his limbs . Not for the first time he considered a career change, something easier on the body . The temptation to just lie back and heal was overwhelming but he had recognised the vehicle that hit him. He knew Braidwood would get to the farm first but he had to get there quick. There was an ominous feeling in the air. Had Scully not already been tense she would've recognised it as a reflex of the inner ear - her body's reaction to a sudden change in air pressure. In the next second, a storm of dust blew up from the front yard, and an impressively quiet helicopter settled to the ground, rotors whipping around with a barely audible 'wht wht wht wht.' The 'copter was as black as a spider, with darkened windows and no markings. A side door slid open without anyone working it. "Mr Paxton?" asked Deep Throat. "Yes, sir?" said Paxton, not to a commanding officer, but out of Southern hospitality. Jedburgh altered his position slightly, looking as if he'd take no nonsense from Blaine, or especially Scully. "All clear, " said Jedburgh into his radio. He listened for a moment. "Vehicle moving this way, sir." "Thank you, Colonel." "I guess I'd better be movin' on, Miss Scully." "Blaine, no! Wait! How can you trust these people?" "Well, " he smiled, "it don't look as I've got much choice." Scully hated feeling so helpless. Could she draw and shoot before Jedburgh got her? Annie Oakley she wasn't. Through the window she see an armed solider exit the helicopter and stand waiting beside it. Still gripping Blaine by the arm Jedburgh gestured to Scully to open the front door. She exited, Deepthroat following, with Blaine and Jedburgh bringing up the rear. The brightness of the day was blinding after the shadowy confines of the house. Scully stopped suddenly, causing Deepthroat to pull up short behind her. It was all the distraction Blaine needed. Tipping forward slightly he made as if to fall. Jedburgh relaxed his grip a fraction, and leaned to grab him. It was enough. With all his might Blaine shoved his shoulder back - catching the now off balance Texan unawares and sending him backwards into the door frame. Scully and Deepthroat turned sharply at the sound. Blaine was already bounding over the porch railing. The guard at the copter raised his rifle - once, twice, three times he fired. 'RUN Dana' screamed Blaine. The words came not from the throat but from the mind. Taking advantage of the confusion Scully leapt from the porch and raced across the yard. Braidwood heard the gunfire and floored the accelerator. As he came from behind the house he saw two people running. Braidwood's eyes flicked from the soldier running after the diminutive FBI agent, and the agent herself, scooting towards the insufficient cover of the ash trees gathered around the farm. The first he knew of Blaine Paxton was the solid thump he'd always dreaded hearing, then the shadow of Blaine's body rolling across the hood to smash the windshield. In less than an eyeblink Blaine had disappeared in front of the car, which came to a scraping stop. "The body, the body, " he whispered as he half-fell out of the vehicle. In one telescoped moment that seemed to drag on for a month, he felt every twitch of his muscles as he brought his gun up and stepped out from behind the driver's door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blaine's head in front of the wheel, his shoulder pinned under the tyre, but his attention was focussed on the soldier, Jedburgh, as his .357 came up level. The air was filled with a roar, for Tom Braidwood had never killed a man like this. Jedburgh was turning to the copter when he heard the car come scraping up from behind the house. He kept going. His commander was already in the chopper. He seemed to feel rather than hear the thud-thud-thud of a heavy calibre weapon being used, but he felt nothing and kept on climbing into the machine. >From Scully's point of view, running towards the trees like a frightened rabbit, the action happened at lightning speed, until Braidwood, leaping from his vehicle, seemed to genuflect to the rising helicopter, then a three jets of red mist shot out behind him and he knelt, staring fixedly at where the chopper had been before he crashed to the ground like a toppled mannequin. Scully thought she could hear his skull crack, but that was impossible. She ran back to Blaine. Blaine half under the front wheel of Braidwood's vehicle, pinned by his right shoulder. He was feebly trying to push the wheel off himself, but it looked like he was gently, timidly, stroking the tyre. "Blaine!" said Scully, kneeling beside him. With a doctor's reflexes, she reached for her cellular phone, and, not finding it, tried frantically to remember when she'd last seen it. Blaine smiled crookedly: "Didn't, " he gasped. "See. . .that one coming." "Dammit, Blaine, wait for me!" Scully yelled. "Where's a damn phone!" "Here you are, Scully." "Mulder?" "I just keep getting here a little late, don't I?" "Oh, " sobbed Scully. "Oh, dear. Mulder, you're right." She broke off into sobs again. Mulder gently prised her fingers off his phone, then quickly dialled. "This is Special Agent Fox Mulder. I'd like police and emergency services to the Parmentier farm. We have two men down. My number here is - " He was the only one at the farm who heard. His call to the emergency services complete, Mulder knelt beside Scully, "Scully? How is he?" Dana didn't answer - too intend on easing Blaine's pain. The ragged breathing indicated internal injuries. Without equipment or drugs she could do little more than hold his hand and hope the paramedics arrived in time. Fortunately that seemed enough to comfort the young man. Leaving Paxton to Scully's ministrations Mulder checked on the sheriff. It was a waste of time. Scully looked up as he returned. He shook his head, Thomas Jackson Braidwood was dead. "Scully" Mulder tried again, "What happened? That helicopter - That was here earlier wasn't it?.......the one they loaded the discs onto." Scully still didn't answer. She had no idea what to tell him. She didn't want to lie to him - earning Mulder's trust had taken time and she didn't want to lose it, but how could she tell him about Deepthroat? A siren wailed closer. "You know how much I used to want one of these things?" Langley said, drumming his fingers on the dashboard of the Corvette as Frohike made it purr along the potholed highway at just over forty miles an hour. "Now that we're driving one, you muzzle it. This is a performance vehicle!" "I know it, " said Frohike, "so if you'd like to take over the driving. . . ?" "We're cruising through Speed Trap, USA, " said Byers, predicably taking a back seat. "I guess you've considered how to explain to a cop that we rented this vehicle on a bogus Diners Club card and a forged Belgian international drivers permit?" "I hadn't." "Then let Monsieur Belloc de Lourdes keep hold of the wheel, " said Frohike, swerving the high-powered Chev around a crack in the asphalt. The other of Mullerville's two police cars came to a growling stop near the ex-Sheriff's car. Randy summed up the situation with hick's speed - two men down, two men standing. The two standing ones were the culprits. "Freeze!" said Randy, and "FBI!" said Mulder simultaneously. There was a brief pause while gun faced gun and badge faced badge. They might have remained that way if Blaine hadn't moaned. "This man needs help!" said Scully. Randy ran over to the prostrate Paxton. "Who did this?" "Him, " said Scully, pointing to the gutshot Sheriff. "Goddamn," said Randy. He walked over to the Sheriff's body. "Who did this?" "An unidentified agent flying a black chopper, " said Scully. "I can't say anything more than that. This man needs help! We've got to get him to a trauma centre." "Nobody touch nothin'" Randy said. Another siren could be heard by all four of those that could hear. "Scully, " said Mulder. "Why would the men in the helicopter shoot Braidwood?" "I don't know, Mulder. I'd better ride in with Blaine when the ambulance gets here." "Sure, fine. Whatever." "Nobody's leavin' here but him, " said Randy. "Oh, for God's sake! I'm a doctor." The only person Randy could get advice from wasn't saying much. 25 minutes later..... Mulder stood on the far edge of the driveway watching the coroner's van go past. The arrival of the ambulance & the state police had forestalled any further discussion with Scully about what happened. While Scully & the paramedics worked at stabilising Blaine's condition he tried to answer their questions. He suspected it was only his federal badge that prevented the state troopers from taking him in. As it was, they kept a careful eye on him as they assessed the crime scene. He was staring at the dirt at his feet and trying to piece together the facts he knew when he heard the quite purr of an engine and looked up in surprise as the sleek sportscar braked quietly beside him. The familiar faces of the Lone Gunmen looked out at him. "That was quick, I didn't expect to see you guys for hours yet - what did you do? Hijack a Lear jet?" Frohike gave an evil grin, "Close enough." Langley got out and leaned on the edge of the roof, 'We hitched a ride with Hilary.' 'Hilary??' 'Clinton.' Mulder vaguely remembered hearing something on the radio about the First Lady attending a conference in Memphis. He had the sudden feeling he really didn't want to know.......but he asked anyway. 'How did you manage that?' 'You know Hilary always drags the press along to when she's speeching to the masses.' answered Frohike. 'Are you trying to tell me that the Secret Service considers 'The Lone Gunmen' legitimate press? and allowed you on the same plane as the President's wife?' 'Of course not,' said Byers. 'We were representing other interests.' He reached into his pocket and produced a card "BBC World News Service" Brian Climpson Washington Bureau Langley grinned across the top of the car at Mulder, 'Byers even got an exclusive interview.' 'Yeah, CNN want to cut a deal for the footage.' added Frohike. Mulder bent down and looked into the car, noticing for the first time, the professional looking news camera on the seat beside Byers. He was right - he didn't want to know; and decided not to ask how they got the Corvette. 'How did you find me?' 'It's very easy to trace a call when you know how, Mulder.' 'That doesn't explain how you found me *here*.' 'Oh, we sewed homing devices the size of pin heads in all of your .......' Frohike started evilly when Byers, ever the sensible one, spoke up, 'We asked in town......' 'Yeah! there were these two old ladies and they looked exactly alike but one was black.' Langley was still amazed by the sight of the Bonaye Sisters. 'They suggested you might be here,' continued Byers. 'And when we saw all the police activity we knew you would be,' Frohike peered through the windscreen, 'Hey, where's your little partner?' 'On her way to hospital. No! she's not the patient.' Mulder said quickly, seeing the look on Frohike's face. 'So, Mulder. Where is it? What have you got for us?' asked Byers, getting down to the purpose of their visit. Mulder directed them to where he had hidden the Camaro, '.....remove the hub cap from the rear passenger side wheel and you'll find a black glasslike disc approx 6 inches round wrapped in cloth.' 'Clever! Do you know what it is?' 'I was hoping you could tell me, I think it might be.....' Mulder glanced over his shoulder and saw one of the state troopers heading their way. 'Look just see what you can find out - I'll talk to you tomorrow.' With a nod Langley got back in the car and Frohike reversed quickly out of the yard. As he waited for the trooper to reach him with the inevitable questions Mulder made himself two promises: To hell with the budget and Skinner - next time he was renting a 'Vette, and as soon as he got home he was going to check his entire wardrobe very carefully. "So you say, " the trooper told Mulder for what, to Mulder, seemed like the millionth time. "Agent Scully was here, " said Mulder exasperatedly. "Why don't you ask her?" "We will," said the trooper coolly. "Now, what did you see when you got here?" "It's not going to change since the last time I told you - five minutes ago." "It might, " said the trooper, taking out a portable dictaphone. "You never can tell." "You're probably right, " said Mulder, voice dripping with sarcasm. He wanted to be with Scully - looking after Blaine. "Sam!" said the pretty female trooper standing in the clearing at the front of the recently abandoned farmhouse. "Have a look at this." "Be right there, Cate. " Come on, Agent Mulder." Mulder started after the trooper reluctantly, then trotted ahead as he realised there might be another of the disks under that dirt. Cate pointed with her baton ('we club people with it'). "Chopper landed here." In the rut of compressed earth that had been made by a helicopter's wheel. A gleaming cartridge lay in it. "We'll get a gun ID from that, " said Sam. "That won't find the killer." "That's the FBI's job, if it looks like he's crossed a state line. And he didn't just fly in from Chickamauga." "You want a ride back to town, Agent Mulder?" asked Cate. "Thanks." "Hang around here, Sam." "Yeah. Sure." Mulder followed Cate back to the car. Fifteen minutes back to town. A lot could happen in a quarter hour. . . Scully checked the IV drip, Blaine's breathing and her watch one more time. When she had chosen pathology and the FBI for her career Dana Scully never expected to spend much time riding around in ambulances. But assignment to the X-Files had seen her spend more time in the back of a speeding medivan than she cared to count. One important thing she had learnt - no matter how fast the ambulance was going it never seemed fast enough. She glanced down at the young man on the cot. He still held her hand, his grip surprisingly strong. It had taken 10 minutes to free Blaine from beneath the car and nearly as long to stabilise his condition. A proper examination had revealed Paxton's injuries to be more extensive than she first thought. The impact of Braidwood's car had left the young man with a broken collarbone and arm and deep gash to forehead, but of more concern was the darkening bruises on his chest and the laboured breathing that spoke of heavy internal injuries. What disturbed her was how they mirrored those that killed his brother. She cast another worried look at the driver . "Only a couple of more miles now, Mam.". Scully turned to answer the pleasant faced paramedic when Blaine gave a soft moan. From the front seat came an answering whimper. They'd all forgotten about the dog. Even when Blaine was hit and the gunfire started the old coon dog hadn't stirred from the porch. However as soon as the paramedics attempted to load Paxton onto the ambulance Zeke began to howl - low, mournful and fearfully. It was only when Mulder let him into the front cabin of the vehicle that the beast stopped its' lament. The ambulance turned swiftly from the road and the County General Hospital was before them. State Highway Outskirts Mullerville. State Trooper Cate Baker kept her eyes on the road but her mind on the man beside her. He hadn't spoken since they left the farm. < I wonder how long he's in town? where was he staying? .......> "Do you know where Dr Mullin lives?" Mulder said suddenly. "About a mile from the hospital - do you want me to take you there?" At Mulder's nod she turned the car in that direction. Mullin's house was so small town America it screamed Norman Rockwell. White picket fence, bottle green shutters and an old handpainted shingle hanging from the porch. The picture postcard home of the lovable town doctor - it was, as they soon discovered, very empty. Someone - assumingly the doctor - had swept through the place like a hurricane. In every room closets and cupboards hung open, drawers were overturned and mementos tipped on the floor. Gus Mullin had clearly been in a hurry to leave. Mulder bent down and began shifting through the scattered papers on the living room floor. "Anything I can do for you Agent Mulder?" Baker asked and Mulder looked up. One part of Mulder's mind - the part that was most basically male registered the appearance of the attractive young trooper leaning above him. Tall, dark eyed, long dark hair - if he had a 'type' this was it. For a moment Mulder's thoughts were *very* unprofessional. He closed his eyes and pushed his libidinous notions away - he had work to do. "What are you looking for?" asked the trooper, very much aware of his stare. "Papers....records.....anything that could be connected to a participation in the rash of unexplained disappearances in the area." Mulder looked back down at the pile of bills in his hand, missing her startled expression. Unlike her partner back at the farm, Baker had trusted the handsome FBI agent....but Doc Mullin had delivered her - to think he had anything to do with this.........she wondered whether she should tell him of her own lost hours a mere 6 weeks ago. Dismissing the thought she knelt down to help him. ******************* End of Part 5 From salian@magna.com.au Tue Dec 31 22:35:34 1996 See Part one from disclaimers and possible explanations. Treat this as you would any episode of the X-Files. Pick it to pieces - dispute everything. In fact, I issue a challenge, see if you can spot a discrepancy I've missed....and believe me I should know them all - I could sing this tale in my sleep (not that anyone in their right mind would want to hear me sing ). A CASE WORTH INVESTIGATING: By Sally-Ann Maslen & DJ Rout Part 6 of 7. ********************************** Mullerville was too small to have a hospital that could treat Blaine's injuries, but the ambulance men assured Blaine, and an increasingly desperate Scully, that it was possible to stabilise him long enough for the air ambulance to fly him to Chattanooga. "Chopper's on its way, Miss Scully, " the ambulance man told Scully for the fiftieth time, as she pushed past him to look at the instruments. Her professional detachment was under strain, and she grabbed Blaine's hand more to comfort herself than him. For a man in pain, he seemed so sedate. Granted, he was loaded up on painkillers. "You'll be all right, Blaine." "Mm hmm." "He will." "He'd better." Frustration breeds anger, she told herself. Stop it! You're not the one in pain. The Casualty section at Mullerville hospital was staffed with nurses and interns - the only doctor in town was Doc Mullin, and he could be called on twenty-four hours a day - he lived only a mile from work, after all. If people came in after hours, they could usually wait until the next day. Shane Paxton had been the only casualty they'd had in a while - and he'd been DOA. Now the ambulance screamed up to the doors carrying nobody less than Blaine Paxton and the FBI agent! "Somebody call 'Doc Mullin!" "There's no answer." "Call the Sheriff!" "There's no answer there!" The two men lifted Blaine's gurney out of the ambulance and rolled it quickly to the triage nurse. Scully was right behind them. "Get out of my way! " Scully yelled as the triage nurse came forward. "I'm a Federal agent and a medical doctor! I want ECG and defibrillation equipment on standby now! Prep this patient for immediate surgery, find me somewhere to scrub, 30ccs of atropine, a demerol injection, who the HELL is in charge here?!" Scully looked around, imagining herself back in medical school, and spotted the charge nurse by her vicious demeanour and subordinating stare. "Who the Hell are you?" the nurse asked. "Doctor Dana Scully, Federal Bureau of Investigation, " Scully replied, suddenly aware of the incongruity. "This man is a witness to an abduction, and he's been injured in a car accident. I want some action, or do I have to start shooting?!" Teetering on the edge of hysteria, Scully looked around at a jury of shocked faces. Where was her training when he needed it? "Raelene?" said a quite male voice quietly from the gurney. "Blaine?" "You don't wanna see this lady start shootin', do ya?" The charge nurse stared at Dana, who brushed her hair back behind her ear. It was a look that excluded every male in the room - except Blaine. Magically, the gurney was whisked away to the operating room. Scully followed Raelene the nurse to where she could scrub. "What's happened to Doc Mullin?" asked Raelene. "I don't know." "But he's always been here! Why would he not be here?" "I can't tell you. Do you have a gown?" Scully donned the gown and cap, and began scrubbing. "What anaesthetic are you using?" Scully asked. "Halothane." "Any allergic reactions?" The anaesthetist just looked at her. "I'm sorry, of course you'd know what his allergies were. Stats?" "BP 90 over 70, pulse 63, HR 98% nominal." "Watch that BP! We may have internal bleeding. How many units of whole blood do we have?" "Eighteen on hand. Donors standing by." "Really?" "He had a big family." "Has! He HAS a big family." "That's what I meant." "BP 90 over 60!" "Saline! Where the hell's that whole blood? Didn't you do any X-rays?" "On the plate." Scully looked at the X-ray. Where she should've seen a clear spine shadow and the soft outlines of internal organs there was only a dark smudge. Fluid. Doc Mullin's house: The search was swift but so far failed to produce the evidence Agent Mulder seeked. But there were other secrets. The bills and papers left Mullin left scattered in his wake revealed a man with a lifestyle far removed from that of small town doctor. Few in Mullerville would be un-surprised at the knowledge that his annual visit to 'Cousin Edna' in Oregon was more likely spent in the theatres and restaurants of London or at the gambling tables of Monte Carlo. The plain wood panels of the closets and cupboards hid other surprises. For a man of his age and generation Gus Mullin had a fascination for gadgetry. Fax machine, scanner.....Mulder unplugged the computer CPU - he would take it back to the DC lab for examination. The big screen TV and video set-up that dominated one wall of an upstairs bedroom would have the regulars at MacHenry's Bar and Grill drooling. Mulder noted the impressive collection of video tapes housed beside the TV. The doctors' taste ran to football play-offs and war movies, though Mulder recognised the titles of a few tapes that graced his own collection. "Scalpel." Scully prepared to make a vertical incision below Blaine's left floating rib, just a small one to get some suction on the fluid. As blood welled from the wound, a bright white light flooded Scully's vision. "It ain't so bad, " a calm voice said. "You can take things easy here, Starbuck." "The future's so bright, " Blaine seemed to whisper. "Now I know everything 's gonna happen." "Tell your mother I miss her." "Don't blame yourself, Ms Scully, " said Blaine. "And you look after your sister now. . .Dana." The light dissolved to a blurry image of tiles or something. " - line!" "What?" asked Scully, squinting through - tears? "Flatline!" "Thoracic injection!" Scully shouted. "Twenty-five cc's adrenaline. Clear for electro-cardial stimulation." "Clear!" There was the thud of the capacitors discharging. "We're exacerbating the internal bleeding!" "Flatline!" "Go to 150!" yelled Scully. The charger whined up to full charge. "Clear!" Thud! Blaine jerked like fish. Whine. . . "200! Where the hell is that chopper!" "Clear!" Thud! "You're burning him!" Whine. . . "Live, Blaine, live! Dammit! Damn you, Paxton, get off your ass and - " "Flatline!" "Shut UP!" Scully could hear a dull thud behind her. She knew that sound - a helicopter coming into land, too late, too late. "Doctor?" "Never mind, " Scully croaked. "I want - retain all instruments for examination, please, Time of - time of - " But what was the use? "Time of death, " the anaesthetist said. "Doctor Scully? I'll need you to witness - " "I'll sign, I'll sign! Just. . .give me a minute." One minute became ten. Some men from the helicopter came and wheeled Blaine away. Scully didn't notice. The search had moved to the kitchen. At first glance it looked like nothing had changed since it was remodeled in the late sixties, but it came as no surprise to find every electrical appliance designated 'kitchen' tucked away in the cupboards. While Mulder went through the drawers Cate studied the old pot bellied stove that stood in one corner. She remembered that stove - it had stood in Wilson's Feed & General Store until the building was torn down in '81. As a small child she often warmed her hands before it while her daddy and old Jeb Wilson haggled over cornfeed. Doc Mullin would wander in and while her daddy wasn't looking, sneak her pieces of candy cane from the jar Jeb kept on the counter. Cate shook her head in disbelief. She was having difficulty reconciling her memories of the kindly doctor with the man she was discovering today. Focusing instead on the memories it evoked of her late father she reached out and touched the dark metal surface. "Oh!!" Mulder swung around, "What's wrong?" "It's warm!" Mulder moved her aside and touched the stove. She was right. Opening the front grill he could see the burnt remains of paper, a few embers glowing softly along the edges. Mulder's pulse quickened . He was reaching into the belly of the stove when Cate's hand stopped him. "Here, use these" She handed him a pair of kitchen tongs. With a nod of thanks he took the tongs and gently shifted the ashes. Most fell apart at his touch but within seconds he withdrew what once might have been a small spring bound notebook. Few pages remained that were not burnt beyond recognition. Through the scorch marks Mulder caught barely make out the words.. '...who could have known.....unexpected..................study Blaine.....' "Is this what you were looking for?" asked Cate. He gave her one his rare smiles, "It could be." 'Brrinng' 'Brrinng' Mulder and Baker froze as the phone rang. The answering machine clicked on, "Doctor Mullin isn't here at the moment but ...." Mulder picked up the kitchen extension. A voice began speaking "Doc? It's Raelene - where ya been? Ya gotta get down here..." "Doctor Mullin is not here right now." interrupted Mulder. "WHO is this?" demanded the voice. "Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI. Who is this?" "Raelene Carter - County Hospital." The voice sobered, "Where's Doc Mullin?" < Good question > thought Mulder, "Is Agent Scully there?" "Yes, I'll get her." He could hear Raelene calling. At first there was no answer then faintly he heard Scully respond in the distance. "Dr Scully" said Raelene "It's an Agent Mulder " "Mulder.?..oh yeah, I coming" Scully's voice sounded far away. A moment later she picked up the phone. "Mulder" "Scully - how's Blaine?" But even as he asked he knew the answer. He could hear the pain in her breathing. ".....he's dead. The internal trauma was too....." Scully broke off. "Scully" he said softly "Don't...." "I couldn't save him, Mulder......I tried....but...." Mulder could picture her standing there - breathing deeply, steadying herself, fighting the tears. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes." "Thank you, Mulder." Mulder got to his feet, carefully bagging what was left of the contents of the stove in a plastic bag for examination later. He headed to the door, only to find Cate following him. She watched him running over to the ute [assumption here] and followed more sedately. He frantically searched for the keys, checking the ignition and under the sun visor, then looked up annoyed as Cate stood there dangling them over one long nailed finger. She slid in behind the steering wheel and Mulder winced, gripping the JC bar tightly as she swung the ute around and took off down the dirt road faster than Mulder would have done, a cloud of gravel, dirt and small pebbles in their wake. Less than three minutes later Mulder strode into the hospital. Scully still stood by the reception desk . Mulder called to her softly, "Scully." Dana took a deep breath to compose herself and turned to him, "That was quick Mulder. What did you do? Break the land speed record?" "You OK Scully?" "I'm fine Mulder." Her three favourite words. Mulder studied his partner - her voice was calm & even, but her eyes held a shimmer of unshed tears. Without saying a word Fox drew her into his arms and gently held her. At first Scully resisted, but then she relaxed in his embrace - accepting the comfort and strength he offered. After a moment she pushed herself away from him murmuring her thanks. Retaining a grip on her arm Mulder walked her over to a nearby bench and sat her down . Before Mulder could ask her about Blaine she changed the subject, "Where were you?" "Doc Mullin place - he's skipped town." "That doesn't surprise me - he must have moved fast once Braidwood was dead; though how he found out so soon has me curious. " "Yeah, well at a guess I'd say Cyclone Gus was whipping through his house before Braidwood even showed up at the farm. From the paper trail we found he just bundled anything incriminating together and took off." < We? > thought Scully and looked past Mulder. Raelene and a tall brunette in a state patrol uniform were standing by the desk, both failing miserably in their attempts to appear nonchalant. "....... get the lab boys to look at it, though I think I have a fair idea what it's about....." Something in Mulder's words & tone made her look back to him. He handed her the plastic bag covered notebook. Taking it carefully from the bag she flipped through the burnt pages, reading what remained. Placing the notebook back into the bag she looked up, "Mulder - what are you suggesting?" Mulder sat down beside her, "That Blaine's psychic abilities were not the result of any experiment. He had the talent all along. Maybe the experiments enhanced it, maybe not - but combined with his other enhancements it must have made him valuable." Scully thought back to scene at the farm and the determination of DeepThroat and his co-hort to take Paxton with them . When she didn't say anything Mulder asked, "Scully, what happened with Blaine - at the farm, here?" Scully looked at him - the memory of Blaine's words as he lay on the operating table in her mind. "Mulder, can we discuss this later - I'd like to get the autopsy done as soon as possible." "May I ask, " said Dr Ramage, tugging at his left sleeve unconsciously, "what the FBI's interest is in this man?" Mulder had heard that so many times he had a mental list of pat answers: "He was a material witness in an ongoing investigations into missing persons reports from this area." "Missing persons is hardly a Federal crime." "It is if one of the missing persons surfaces interstate." "Is that all I'm going to get out of you?" Mulder smiled winningly. Ramage creased a brow that extended back to the crown of his head. He turned to the death certificate. "I'm certifying that Mr Paxton died of ventricular tachycardia, consequent of hypotension induced by a partially transcepted aorta. Any reason for the transception I should note down here?" "Vehicular impact, " Scully whispered. "That seems consistent, " he mumbled. "Didn't get much work out here. Bob and Louise Clemenger had a breach birth back in '84, but apart from that Gus Mullin did it all. Often wondered why a man that skilled didn't specialise. Would've been worth a fortune." "I guess his practice will be up for sale, " said Mulder. "Yep, guess os. Be an awful lot of goodwill in that practice. An awful lot." Mulder tried to look as businesslike as possible, balancing concern for Blaine (and Scully) with impatience to get Dr Ramage out of the way so the real autopsy could take place. Scully racked the last of the phials into a carry case. There would be no chance of moving Blaine's body to Washington. Sandy Paxton had adamantly refused to release it, much against Mulder's protestations. Still, before Blaine's body was handed over to the funeral directors, Scully could take enough samples for a toxicological study. "But these results can't be used, Mulder!" she'd said. "Indulge me, Scully. Aren't you the least bit curious about Blaine?" "A little, " Scully had lied. So now she was tucking the last of an alveoli swab into a sterile cassette and packing these away. They were going to be hand luggage on the plane. She covered Blaine with a sheet, stripped her gloves and gown and threw them both into the trash. "I'm ready, Mulder." Mulder turned from Cate Baker, who had come ostensibly to get Scully's statement on Blaine's death. Cate shot Scully a fiery look over Mulder's shoulder. This time Scully ignored it. Some kind of exhaustion had settled on Scully like soot, covering her and gradually weighing her down. "Fine." "Will you be here for the inquest?" Cate asked Scully. "I'll be here." Walking back to the Royal, Mulder looked around at the town. It hadn't changed really - well, short one Sheriff, two kids and a doctor - but the way he looked at it had changed. Scully wanted to get back into Washington and back into a suit. A tape recorder clicked silently into action. "Lone Gunman." Langley listened briefly. "Fine, thank you. Goodbye." "What was that about?" asked Mulder. "We never give our right address when we get pizza delivered, " said Frohike, lying on a couch with his hands clasped over his stomach. "Just the delivery boy checking back, " said Langley. "We think, " said Byers. "And that's about as far as I'm gonna get?" asked Mulder. "Never mind. You said you had something on the black disk." "Yes and no," said Byers. "Or maybe, " said Frohike. "At first we thought we were testing for a high-density polymer, but we ruled that out pretty quickly," Langley began. "It didn't respond to any tests we were able to put it through. It was physically inert." "Solidified electricity, " said Frohike. "'Earth vs The Flying Saucers,'" said Mulder sceptically. "Electricity's only a quantum state of energy, which amounts to a form of matter anyway, " said Byers. "But that wasn't it." "We took it to the Scanning Electron Microscope Facility at University of Maryland." "Langley knows somebody, " said Frohike. "Who knows somebody, " said Byers. "So we found out that the disks are a hexo-tektoid array. Small components connected three dimensionally - maybe a billion of them in this disk, and it looks like they're made of a lanthanum carbon compound." "So?" "Connected like neurons in a human brain." "Or an alien brain, " said Mulder. Byers laughed: "How much would you expect to pay?" Langley said: "There's more." "We ran it through the SEM, and we discovered that it was almost impossible to get a clear image." "Why?" "Ah, " said Byers, "that's what we said. It turns out that this material is very highly conductive." "Super-conductive, " said Frohike. "Not quite, " said Langley, " but very close." "Room temperature superconductor?" asked Mulder. "That's way beyond our current technology." "It's the Holy Grail of speculative technology, " said Langley. "So, with that information, we tried a number of other tests." "Thermal conductivity, " Frohike said. He seemed half asleep there. "We used a high-powered laser from the same facility. We found no detectable change in thermal activity further than four millimetres from the contact point." "The theory is that the object converts the energy - then stores it." "Beyond our technology?" asked Mulder. "Not if you're in Germany, " Byers laughed. He pulled out a convenient file. "Experimental high-temperature valve, potentially for use in a fusion-torch attack plane." "Zero to orbital velocity in 18 seconds," said Frohike. Mulder was looking at a picture of some kind of appliance. He didn't understand it. "The problem is that that kind of acceleration leaves the payload a kind of smear on the inside of the plane." "Not to mention that the current state of fusion technology makes the engine a clean, but nasty, bomb." "So, we needed a guinea pig, " said Langley. "I volunteered, " said Frohike, waving at a small dish with wires coming out of it. The dish held the black disk, with electrodes taped to it that terminated in measuring devices. A multiple input oscilloscope showed wiggling lines that meant nothing to Mulder. "We began with an unambiguous stimulus, " said Langley, holding up a white card with a black 'X' painted on it where Frohike could see it. The lines on the oscilloscope wiggled a bit. "Believe it or not, that is the exact same pattern, to within 99.5% as that stimulus produces, " said Byers. "Yeah, but what is it?" "It's Frohike's brain, " said Langley. "Which proves I have one." "It measures his brainwaves?" "It receives, them, codifies them, transmits them, " said Byers, pointing upward. "That was our best guess, so we tried a more ambiguous stimulus." Langley held up a photograph of - Scully, in shorts and T-shirt, taken by telephoto lens judging by the large details in the background, jogging along the Academy's inner track at Quantico. "Where'd you get that?" Mulder exclaimed. Langley dropped the phot in front of Frohike. The lines on the oscilloscope virtually blurred. "She gives me fever, " Frohike smiled. Mulder's Office 9.11am Thursday. "...I haven't seen...ah, here he is. We'll be there." Scully hung up the telephone as Mulder entered, "That was Kim, Skinner wants to see us in 20 minutes. She says he doesn't sound happy." Mulder removed his jacket, slinging it across the back of his chair, "And that surprises you?" Scully shook her head smiling ever so faintly, "No, not really. You're late.....". "I went to see the Boys." he grinned at her, "Frohike sends his love." Scully dismissed the small Gunman with a sniff, and started organising papers on her desk, "We better get the expense accounts written up before we see Skinner." A.D. Skinner's Office 20 minutes later. "Agent Scully, Agent Mulder." The Assistant Director gestured for them to enter the office. Subconsciously both sniffed the air. The familiar smell of Morley's tobacco was missing. Skinner waited till they were seated before beginning, "I was under the impression Agent Mulder, that your presence in Mullerville was to investigate a rash of possible abductions. Within 24 hours of your arrival, the sheriff and two local residents are dead and a highly- respected local dignitary has disappeared. " Neither Agent responded. Skinner continued, "Agent Scully" Briefly and succinctly Scully filled the AD in on the events in Tennessee. "And the second man with this Jedburgh - you have no idea who he was?" "No Sir, he did not identify himself." answered Scully truthfully. "Agent Mulder - do you have anything to add?" "No Sir, not at this stage." answered Mulder. Leaning back in his chair Skinner studied the maverick agent, "Not at this stage? Would you care to explain why I had a Tennessee State Police lieutenant on the phone yesterday complaining that my agents were being unco-operative?" "In what way were we unco-operative? Sir." Mulder was careful to keep the amusement out of his voice. It didn't work. "Agent Mulder. This may amuse you but it does not amuse the Bureau." Skinner read from the folder before him, "Endangering the public, unauthorised search of property, withholding evidence. ." "Sir, the search of Doctor Mullin house was only unauthorised in the sense that it was not planned ....and I was accompanied by one of his own officers." replied Mulder. "And withholding evidence...?" Scully answered for him, "The lieutenant was not pleased that we preferred to have the doctor's notebook examined by our experts rather than the Tennessee authorities." Skinner studied the X-Files team for a moment. Neither spoke or moved under his scrutiny. "I want a full report by 9am tomorrow - and I mean a full report. Dismissed." Stepping into the elevator Dana Scully turned to her partner, "The nerve of that Tennessee idiot!! Withholding evidence....I thought you were kidding when you said he was probably a part of it, but..." "Scully," Mulder cut in, "There's something I have to tell you..." ******************** End of Part 6 From salian@magna.com.au Tue Dec 31 22:35:27 1996 See Part one from disclaimers and possible explanations. Treat this as you would any episode of the X-Files. Pick it to pieces - dispute everything. In fact, I issue a challenge, see if you can spot a discrepancy I've missed....and believe me I should know them all - I could sing this tale in my sleep (not that anyone in their right mind would want to hear me sing ). A CASE WORTH INVESTIGATING: By Sally-Ann Maslen & DJ Rout Part 7 of 7. ********************************** Mulder's Office FBI Basement a few minutes later...... "You did WHAT!?" Scully was dumbfounded. "I gave the disk to the Lone Gunmen." "Mulder, you really are crazy - you gave a valuable piece of evidence to those nuts!?" "It's perfectly safe - a lot safer with them than us." "What do you mean by that?" "Come on, Scully, how many times have I.....have we.....found something like this only to have it vanish into a vault or something next to the Ark of the Covenant" When Scully didn't say anything Mulder continued, "Look.... I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, but with everything going on at the farm it wasn't exactly the time or place; then the boys turned up to collect a lot quicker than I expected, and later, well......there were other things to deal with." Scully thought about what she was keeping from him. "So.... do the world's most paranoid have any ideas?" Mulder smiled and quickly filled her in on the Gunmen's experiments. "So you're...they're, saying the disk is some kind of recording device." "On it's most basic level. Langley & the others have only tested for visual stimuli so far, but it's likely that the disks could monitor a whole range of sensory impressions and who knows what else." "But how would the disks know who to monitor?" asked Scully. "Remember the implant Blaine had - the one that was removed. I think it acted as a kind of connection wire between him & the disks." "If that was the case, why remove it?" "I think he overloaded the circuits." Mulder put his hand out to halt her response, "While you were performing the autopsy I read through Mullin' notebook - it's pretty badly burned but what I could make out seems to suggest that Blaine's psychic abilities were not only unexpected but too much for the disks " Mulder settled back in his chair, pencil twirling between fingers - full theory mode as Scully privately called it. "Think of it Scully, here we have a technology capable of collecting and reproducing every sensory response a person has. If what we saw with Blaine is correct, Mullin and his cronies were abducting these people and enhancing their sensory capabilities and then monitoring the results. We both saw and felt how strong Blaine's talents were.......what if.....when Blaine had those premonitions - like the coffee cup thing you told me about - he actually *saw* it, in his mind but clearly enough to register with the disks; at the same time it's registering what he sees with his eyes - conflicting imagery." Mulder glanced up. Scully was watching him, arms crossed, head to one side. "Too much of a leap?" he asked with twisted grin "About halfway across Grand Canyon - maybe. You can't prove this Mulder and it still doesn't explain what the purpose of the experiments was." Mulder leaned forward. "No. Wait." said Scully, "I think I'll need a coffee for this." She headed for the doorway. Stopping by the open door, she looked back at him, "Just out of curiosity - you said the Lone Gunmen got there quicker that you expected - how did they get there?" Mulder leaned further forward, smiling widely, "Oh, you're gonna love this Scully." XFILE 0297942292 Special Agent Dana Scully Reference Nashville Field Office 42292 The events in Mullerville, Tennessee for the period 23 January to 31 January are an atypical X File, in that in this agent's opinion they do not contain any paranormal activity. There does appear to be some evidence of an advanced technology that may have been present in the town at one time, but in subsequent investigations of the so-called 2nd stage close encounter site (a site where physical evidence of a UFO is found) has only signs of recent digging, consistent with reports by Agent Fox Mulder. Investigations are being carried out into aspects of one of the 'black disks' recovered by agent Mulder, but have so far proved inconclusive. Much may be made of the late Blaine Paxton's 'psychic abilities' but in this agent's opinion there was actually very little demonstration of these 'powers'. The evidence of the three cups, for example, can be easily explained by myself and Agent Mulder's presence in the town for almost 48 hours before seeing the cups. Our names were well-known to Sheriff Thomas J Braidwood, and to Doctor August Mullin, either of whom could have informed Blaine Paxton of our initials. The evidence of the gear in the truck can be more satisfactorily explained by thorough mission planning than by prognostication. Blaine's death was clearly an accident. Sheriff Braidwood was shot by an unknown assailant presumably in order to silence him. Ballistic analysis of the bullets extracted from Sheriff Braidwood's body shows no match between the weapon used and any weapon on file in the National Crime Scene Database. No trace of Dr Mullin remains. However, Royal Canadian Mounted Police report the death of Grant Nathan Martinson, born 25 December 1925 in an automobile accident fifty miles South of Saskatoon. Fingerprints taken from the body match those found in Dr Mullin's house. The identity of 'Colonel Jedburgh' remains a mystery. Veteran's Administration have records of Col Sam Jedburgh of Norfolk, Oregon. There are also mentions of Col Darius Jedburgh, of the Central Intelligence Agency. This is a fictional character who may have supplied the pseudonym for the 'real' Col Jedburgh. Dr Mullin's hastily destroyed notes show some evidence of experimentation on the local population, but this is so far inconclusive. The closure of this investigation leaves some questions unanswered to my satisfaction: 1) What was the cause and significance of the number of twin births in Mullerville. 2) What is the real identity of 'Colonel Jedburgh?' 3) What is the purpose of the 'black disks.' Agent Mulder has his own conclusions, but this agent's summary is that there is no paranormal explanation for the events in Mullerville. But there is certainly a link between the deaths of Shane Paxton, Blaine Paxton and Thomas Braidwood. What that link may be, I am unable to say. FBI Headquarters Friday. 11.21pm Mulder popped another sunflower seed in his mouth and picked up his pen, '.............. has revealed some discrepancies in Dr Augustus Mullin's background. While it can be proven he enrolled at Oxford in 1938 I can find no evidence of him having graduated. Registration records from Oxford note an Augustus Mullin taking a leave of absence from studies to join the army in Jan 1940 but again no record can be found of him in any of the armed forces. We can confirm that Gus Mullin arrived in Mullerville in mid 1947 and set up a medical practice. A monograph produced by Mullin for an small Oxford science publication in 1939 has revealed an interest in what we know call genetic engineering. He appears to have conducted numerous experiments in selective breeding - both with plants & animals. It was Mullin's belief that it was possible to 'turn on' or 'turn off' certain individual characteristics - a somewhat revolutionary idea prior to the identification of the DNA molecule by Crick & Watson in 1953. It can be surmised that Mullin's theories must have come to the attention of either Allies or the Nazis. Certainly many of the concepts Mullin' purposed in his paper echo the theories of Heinrich Himmler and Victor Klemper. Was Mullin offered the opportunity to test his theories by the German government or the Americans? If Mullin had discovered a way to alter or enhance genetic code it would make him an extremely valuable commodity. We will probably never know who the young Gus Mullin worked for during the war, but it is reasonable to assume that he continued the experiments after the war. With the course of genetic engineering irrevocably tarnished by the revelations of Nazi experimentation, it is probable that those involved in the continuation of genetic research would be driven underground or to isolated and examinable communities. This is an explanation as to why Mullerville was chosen as the test site. It is relatively isolated and claims could be made that unique twin population of Mullerville provided excellent test subjects for the comparison of genetic material. However, county records indicate that prior to the arrival of Gus Mullin , Mullerville had produced only 2 sets of surviving twins in over 10 years - among them the Bonaye Sisters. Within 4 years of his arrival the rate of multiple live births did increase. An exhaustive search of Mullin's house and efforts to retrieve information from his computer hard disk have revealed very little linking the doctor to illegal experimentation. The doctor's medical records do reveal a large number of inoculations to townsfolk - usually referred to as 'vitamin' or 'flu' injections. A cross check has shown that these inoculations - especially to female patients - were preceded by an 'unplanned' pregnancy or unexplained absence. Among the recipients of these injections were the parents of Blaine & Shane Paxton. It is a generalisation that twins 'run in families' yet, a number of twins born in Mullerville and the neighbouring community were to families without history of multiple births. Was Blaine Paxton corrected in his views that someone was purposely breeding twins in order to produce a control and subject for experiment? And for what reason? Sources operating within the intelligence community have spoken of experiments to combine alien & human DNA . It is said that the government has only recently created the technology necessary to produce a hybrid. It was my original belief that this was reason behind the activities in Mullerville, however details of Agent Scully's conversation with the unidentified operative and Col Jedburgh, and the experiences of Blaine Paxton have led me to believe that regardless of the original motive for the experiments the aim of the 'abductions' was not to gather test subjects but to create them. Blaine Paxton believed that any psychic abilities he had were the result of the abduction incident that occurred in 1988. The notebook found in Mullin's stove, though badly burned and difficulty to decipher, refers to an 'unexpected bonus' and 'if it...... can be isolated.' It is my belief that in Blaine already possessed some latent psychic talent. It can not be determined if the genetic enhancements in anyway effected Blaine's abilities.' ...... 'click' Mulder looked up at the sound of the opening door. "You still here Mr Mulder?" Mulder smiled at the middle-aged woman, "Just finishing up Jeanie." The cleaner shook her head, "Young fella like you - should be out enjoying yourself on a Friday night, not working." She closed the door behind her. Mulder returned to his writings. 'If it was Mullin's original premise to create a stronger, faster, smarter human, would not such an person be the perfect choice for creating an alien/human hybrid. Previous attempts - such as those conducted by Dr Berube used terminally ill volunteers. Inoculation with alien viruses were successful in treating the patient's conditions and extending their physical abilities, but the ultimate expression of genetic engineering is the creation & propagation of beings superior to those created by random evolutionary processes. With extraterrestrial intelligences within the bounds of extreme possibility, interaction on a level more fundamental than a cultural exchange may hold the key to the future direction of both species. The combination of genetically healthy DNA from human and alien sources could see a hybridisation that could satisfy the criteria of both races. The question still remains as to what that criteria is - and why it was set.' THE END ******************************************************** What did you think? Did you spot a discrepancy you think I might not know about? Praise, Criticism, Flames, Gifts of money to: Sally-Ann: salian@magna.com.au Darren: hippy@onthe.net.au