From: Texas Rose Date: Sun, 5 May 2002 16:52:07 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Story Source: direct "Of Divine Destruction" By MxSRose Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and The X-Files are property of FOX, Chris Carter ... etc. Timeline: Season 5 sometime after The Red and the Black Classification: S, Mulder/Scully UST, Some Angst Extra Notes: Single quotes '....' Surround internal thoughts of the characters Dialogue is in regular double quotes "...." Summary: A scientist wishes to expose the secrets of a genetic research center. Can Mulder and Scully get to him in time to get the secrets out? NAHUM GENETIC RESEARCH CENTER 75 MILES NE OF PHOENIX SUNDAY, 10:13PM The sound of his shoes hitting the linoleum floor caused an echo through the halls. His dark figure contrasting dramatically with the surrounding of bright white lights and walls. Technicians in biohazard suits avoid his glare as he strides down the long corridor peering in the plexiglass windows as he heads toward a door at the end of the hall. He punches a code into the handset next to the door. It slides open and immediately closes after he has proceeded through. At the end of the hall is a steel door guarded by two marines behind an island-type desk in front of the door. As he approaches, the two soldiers stand with their Colt M-16s at the ready and watch as the man turns to a computer panel on the right wall. The man may be wearing a military officer's uniform, but their orders are very strict. The man removes his hat and places his right hand on a pad and leans forward so his head is directly in front of a small screen. A laser comes out from the wall and scans across the man's face as his hand is being scanned. The computer on the guards' desk begins to bleep. There are multiple screens built into the desk. One is a camera that watches the door where the man entered earlier. The second shows the results from the retina and hand scans. The last one has a red and green light above it and displays whom the person is. The green light turns on and the profile of General John Jacob Werther, U.S. Marine Corps, pops up on the screen. At this point the two soldiers simultaneously come to attention, say "General Werther!" and salute. The general salutes them and walks around to the steel door. One of the soldiers then punches in a code on a keyboard on the desk and the door opens. The walls are now made of solid cement and it's easy to tell that the corridor is proceeding underground. The general reaches the bottom of the end of the corridor, which allows you to either proceed right or left. He takes a left and this corridor has numerous steel doors on either side. The general enters one with the number 1098 above it and it appears to be an empty laboratory. There are numerous beakers, flasks, microscopes, computers and tools on the various tables. At the back of the room is an office with the door open. The general goes in and sees a middle-aged, balding man sitting at the desk. The man is fiddling with his tie as he flips through a research book, which he is reading with his glasses balancing on the edge of his nose. The man suddenly senses the general's presence in the room and stands ups nervously to put on his lab coat. "General Werther." "You said you had something important to discuss with me, Dr. Meisler." It's obvious from his demeanor that General Werther not only commands the attention of soldiers but anyone who dares ask for his audience-he is not a man to mince words and he likes to get things done directly and to the point. In contrast, Dr. Phillip Meisler looks more tired and worn out than any man at his age should. He seems tired, worn, and his eyes tell that he has seen more reports and books than a decent night's sleep in days. "Uhm, yes. Yes I did. I mean I do." "Doctor ..." "Of course. I wanted to tell you that Implantation 76126 looks promising. The fetus is maturing nicely and the mother ..." "The implantee, Doctor. These subjects are no one's mothers. You keep that in mind." "Oh yes, well either way she's progressing nicely too." "You called my office in the middle of the night and told my secretary that you have something important to discuss with me. I come here thinking that there may actually be something of some urgency to deal with and you waste my time by telling me things that I can read in a report." The general raises his voice with each word. "General Werther I do have something important to discuss with you, but I am afraid you won't like it." The general crosses his arms across his chest. The movement causes his silver stars to catch the overhead lights bringing Dr. Meisler's attention to them. "Go on." The general states in a tempered tone. Dr. Meisler opens his mouth to speak when suddenly sirens begin to go off. The two men rush out into the corridor and yellow lights are flashing along the sides of the walls. They rush to the end of the hall and through a steel door. They continue on as the corridor retains the standard whitewall hospital look. Another man in a lab coat is kneeling down and trying to examine an unconscious soldier. "What's going on here?" the general barked trying to be heard over the raucous. The young man in the lab coat is approximately in his early thirties and seems to cower even more so than Dr. Meisler in the presence of Werther. The young man speaks up as the sirens stop. "I saw him walk away from his post directly to this door. He was standing right in front of it and just staring in the window. Then he grabbed his head and started to yell. I came over to him to see if I could tell what was wrong but he pushed me back. Then he pulled out his pistol and aimed it toward the window. Then he just collapsed and his gun fired once before he hit the ground. That's what set off the alarm." Dr. Meisler kneels down and takes the soldier's pulse and announces, "He's dead." Suddenly there is screaming coming from inside the room. The men peer into the window and see a young boy thrashing about and screaming. Dr. Meisler takes out a keycard from his coat and swipes it along the door. The door opens and Meisler and the assistant rush in trying to catch and restrain the boy. The boy is standing on top of his bed and beating his head on the wall when suddenly, he stops. His body begins to fall as Meisler catches the boy and lays him on the bed. Meisler checks the boy's eyes as the assistant starts to look for a pulse. "Don't bother," Meisler says gravely, "his eyes are dilated and bloodshot. He suffered a severe aneurysm." General Werther is still standing in the doorway and says, "You know what to do, Doctor." and starts to walks away. Meisler stands up, heads for the doorway, and yells down to the corridor, "Yes, I know what to do! But how many times am I going to have to do it? How many is it going to take?!" Werther just continued down the corridor. His stride never faltered and his voice never wavered as he said, "As many as it takes to get it right." THE RACING SUN MOTEL PHOENIX, ARIZONA WEDNESDAY, 4:50PM "You see, Mulder, this is why I usually make the travel arrangements. I actually remember to make them!" Special Agent Dana Scully is ranting to her partner, Special Agent Fox Mulder, in the parking lot outside of the motel office. Her petite form is pacing back and forth across the asphalt behind the car while Mulder leans against the trunk wearing a blue suit with his jacket open and sunglasses on; looking like he jumped out of the folds of GQ. Scully continues, "I come into the office this morning while you rush out of it. You continue to walk away while you tell me to go home, pack a bag, and you'll be at my apartment to pick me up in an hour because we have a plane to catch. And before I can even say anything, the elevator door closes in my face. And since you didn't make the hotel arrangements when you pulled this assignment, we don't have a place to stay because who would guess there is a high school debate competition in town and every place is booked!" "Scully, I didn't know we were going to be heading here until I got in this morning and that was just enough time to get us plane tickets." The two continue their exchange when the motel manager sticks his head out of the front door. "Mr. Mulder? I just got a cancellation from one of the high schools. They won't need one of their rooms. It's yours if you want it." Mulder turns to Scully with a smile and says, "See, there's always a silver lining. I mean you'll still have your own bed, Scully, it can't be that bad." "Fine." Mulder turns and takes off to the motel office to sign the paperwork and pay for the room. He signed the registrar and took the key from the manager without even noticing that he signed for a single bed instead of a double-bedded room. He went back outside and the pair got back in the car and drove around to where their room was. When they reached their side of the motel, Mulder got out of the car first and went around to the trunk to get their luggage out. He couldn't help but notice that a few of the high school girls were staring at him. They put the phrase 'giddy as school girls' to shame. He was flattered to say the least and so he flashed the group a smile and a wave, which just brought on another bought of swoons and giggles. Scully was in the car trying to find the extra magazine she brought for her Sig Sauer when she notices the fanfare going on with the girls, and she could see how much Mulder was loving it. Scully was not. As she stood up out of the car she drew her gun and put in a magazine in full sight of the girls. That stopped everything and the girls went back into their room. Mulder didn't notice any of this take place since he was practically to their door. He finally got the key to work, opened to door, dropped the bags, and then hung his head in grief, "Oh shi..." he started. "Hey Mulder." Scully said as she was putting away her weapon. Mulder closed the door and turned to her, "Ya, Scully." He noticed her holstering her gun and suddenly had trouble swallowing. "I'm kind of hungry and I think you owe me dinner considering what you've put me through today." "Uh, sure you bet." "Maybe I should change first, I think this suit's too hot for the Arizona heat." Scully started to walk toward the door. Mulder stopped her ushering her back to the car saying, "No, no. You're fine. Besides we'll be in a restaurant anyway, and you know you'll get cold once you're in there." "Sure, okay." Scully got in the car with a confused look on her face as Mulder shut her door. He walked around to the driver's side thinking, 'I'll have to find a way to get her gun away from her. It's probably best that she be unarmed when she finds out that I stupidly didn't read the papers for the room and signed for a single bed.' MEISLER RESIDENCE SEDONA, ARIZONA WEDNESDAY, 8:20PM Dr. Meisler is sitting in his den with a brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. It was a picture perfect scene. What would appear to be a successful man in his two- story house, hardwood floors, elegant carpets and drapes, a beautiful deck that surrounds the house-picture perfect. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but in this case, those words would be a lie. Phillip Meisler is a desperate man on the verge of just giving up. He has been working at the NGRC for the past fourteen years doing the same thing, which would be okay if he actually liked his work, but he lost his drive for this job a long time ago. He was thinking about all this when his doorbell rang. He went to the door and opened it to find Benjamin Bradley, the lab assistant from the research center who found the soldier. "Hey Ben, come on in." The two men entered the house and went into the den. Meisler poured the young man a drink and they sat in silence for a few moment. Ben spoke up first. "You said that we needed to talk about something." "Yes, we do. I'm tired of this job," he says sort of nonchalantly, "How about you?" "I used to think that what we were doing could benefit someone somewhere along the way. But hell Phil, we are absolutely nowhere and I'm not even sure I'm human enough to call myself a person anymore. Besides, I can't stand all the codes and regulations. If I wanted to join the military I would have. I'm just a scientist, like you." "I know exactly how you feel, Ben, and that's why I've asked you to come here tonight. I made a call to some people that may be interested in what we're doing here. Interested in stopping it." Ben looked up from his brandy and just stared dumbfounded as if the good doctor had lost his mind. "You're not serious, Phil. Please tell me you're not serious." "Why wouldn't I be?" "That place is under the highest possible security. We are constantly under scrutiny. They'll kill you when they find out you've told others about what really goes on at the NGRC." "First of all, do you agree that we can't keep doing this?" "Yes, of course." "It's too hard Ben. Damned secret government projects. We're scientists Ben, not soldiers. I don't care how much closer we get with each new experiment. I have implanted twenty-seven women in my entire time there. Out of those twenty-seven, I have seen thirteen actual births. The woman would have had better luck at a roulette table in Las Vegas than to make it through the initial procedure and to carry the baby to term. I'm not going to watch any more women die. I'm not going to take anyone's children away. I am certainly not going to watch any more children die because of me. And if they want to kill me then they can go ahead because I've got nothing left in me!" He stands and throws his empty glass against the wall. "There's nothing left, Ben! I've got nothing left!" Ben just stared at this bare and broken man, and he thought it selfish but all he could think about was how much he didn't want to become this. "Okay, Phil, okay. So what's the plan?" Meisler composes himself and turns to the fireplace. He leans against the mantle and says, "Nothing you need to worry about. I just wanted you to know that this won't last much longer." THE RISING SUN MOTEL THURSDAY, 1:33AM "I don't want to hear another word, Mulder." Scully snapped at her partner. They had decided that since Mulder was the stupid one to get them in this situation, then he should be the one to sleep on the floor. Actually, Scully decided. Mulder just didn't have a choice. "I'm tired and I've had a long day and it turns out that you brought me all the way to Arizona to investigate stem-cell research. I checked it out, Mulder. That is what they do at Nahum Genetic Research Center and it's only research the worst we can get them for is probably cruelty to animals because that's all they test on. Besides, Mulder, it's government funded, that place isn't getting shut down unless Uncle Sam says so." "Scully when was the last time the government did something that was seemingly altruistic?" "They haven't kicked you out of the country ... yet." "Okay, seriously though, Scully, is what I'm saying so impossible?" "Mulder, you haven't even told me why we're here. Yes, I know some kind of secret superhuman genetic research, but what made you look here? Why are we here?" "I got a call Tuesday night from a woman named Gina Jansen, who recently lost her sister. And not like she passed away or abducted, Scully. This girl is just gone." "I don't understand, Mulder. This sounds like a job for Missing Persons." Mulder gets up from his position on the floor and sits next to her lying form on the bed. "Her sister, Evelyn, was working as a prostitute to support her son and her sister. I know that it isn't risk free. The initial speculation was that someone could have come along and killed her for all anyone knows. But, Evelyn has certain 'regulars,' and doesn't stray to far from that flock. All of their investigations have turned up nothing. So, other then the fact that there are going to be a few divorces in this town real soon, it's just not reasonable that homicide would be the case." "So why genetics?" "Well, Ms. Jansen received a phone call a few days ago from a man stating that they're working on more than lab rats at that research facility. Supposedly, they take people of the streets and experiment on them-prostitutes, vagrants, hitchhikers-the kinds of people that would most likely not have anyone wondering where they are. Evelyn Jansen may have been a prostitute, but she definitely has people that want to know if she's all right." "How can we be sure the source can be trusted?" "Apparently, this is a rumor that has been floating around these parts for some time now. No one has ever said anything about it. When Gina Jansen went to the police, they laughed at her and sent her away. She went to the FBI field office at this point and they weren't sure what to make of it either. So, they sent it on to us." "Well, I guess Nahum Genetics Research Center better watch out if you're going hunting." "Was that a crack about my name, Scully?" Scully had to smile. She knew what she was doing, and she knew exactly which buttons to push on Fox Mulder-his name is one of them. "Have I ever made fun of you about your name? It was just slip of the tongue. Now let's go to bed." Whoa. Mulder's brain was just about to burst. 'Did Scully just say something about slipping some tongue and that we should go to bed? No, no impossible. Well, not impossible but highly improbable. It's not exactly an idea that I find in anyway revolting' Mulder muses. Scully can feel her face heating with the blush she is certain is forming. 'Did I just say, what I just said? This would be my day for Freudian slips. Damn it! No more slipping, Dana. I am removing that word from your vocabulary because Lord knows you'll never be able to say it again with a straight face. He is sitting so close to me, and he's resting his hand on mine that are on my stomach. Red Alert! Abandon ship!' "Well, good night, Mulder." Thank God she had enough composure to get that statement out without sounding as flustered as she feels. "Ya, good night, Scully." Mulder moved back to his pillow and blanket on the floor. Both of them lay in their respective places trying to get some sleep, but sleep would be fitful if it arrived for either one at all that night. DISH & SAUCER CAFE SEDONA, ARIZONA 2:12 AM The restaurant looks like it's seen more bad nights than good days. There are a few truckers sitting at the counter just small talking with the waitress. A man enters dressed in jeans, dark blue shirt, and a ball cap. He spots a younger man in similar gear sitting in a booth at the far end of the restaurant, as far away from the counter and door as you can get. He strides up to the booth and sits. "He's up to something." The younger man says. "I suspected as much." The older man replies. The waitress walks over to the two gentlemen to ask if they want anything. They older man orders coffee and a piece of sweet potato pie. The young man just wants coffee and the waitress walks away. "What do you mean you've suspected? Why wasn't I warned about this?" The young man says irritated. "I suggest you watch your tone, son. Now look, don't worry about how I know, I've been doing this longer than you have I know what to look for. Whatever he has planned, he'll never go through with it." "I don't know about that. The stress involved, who knows ..." "Even if he gets the guts to do anything drastic, it will never get out. You understand that?" "Yes, General." "Security of secrets. That's the most important part of this job. Remember that." And with that, General Werther leaves the young man sitting at the table. The waitress brings the coffee and pie. She sets them on the table along with the check and says, "I guess the torch is left to you, son." The young man can't help but wonder what all that might apply to beyond the check. He spots the pie and gives into temptations and stays at the restaurant until he ate the entire piece and drank his coffee. NAHUM GENETIC RESEARCH CENTER THURSDAY, 6:30AM There was nothing unusual about this day. At least not that it should appear unusual to anyone. Dr. Meisler made his way to his laboratory, passing by and saying hello to the people that he normally would at this time of day. He was always the first scientist there and the last to leave. It would be another hour before the rest of the staff began to file in, aside from the guards. He made his way to his office and popped a disk into the disk drive of his computer. He opened a word processing document that flashed onto the screen. Meisler read it and smiled. He can't believe he actually had the guts to write it, and he couldn't believe he was actually about to do the most extreme thing he has probably ever done in his life. He attached the document to an email message that said: I TOOK THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH ... AN OATH TO DO NO HARM. NOW I AM A HYPOCRITE TO THAT OATH. MAY THIS GIVE ME SOME REDEMPTION. The attachment was a compilation of files that Meisler kept over the years: the names of the implantees and everyone in the government involved with the project that he knew of; the results of every experiment; and his involvement. He made a point not to add any of the names of the technicians that worked on the project, and especially not Ben. Meisler knew that this was all his own doing and he needs to face it. He became a geneticist because he believed that one day maybe he would do something great that could help a lot of people from suffering. Instead, for the past fourteen years he's done nothing but cause suffering. He was brought to the NGRC to create the ultimate assassin, and at the time, he believed it was a worthy cause. The point was to genetically engineer a human being to have some kind of strong ESP or telekinetic ability and use it as the an untraceable weapon. The government wanted to be able to get rid of its greatest enemies with a thought. Guns are messy. Drugs can be traced. But if someone just had a heart attack, formed a growth in their brain, or had an aneurysm-things that can medically be explained as 'sometimes that just happens' was ideally what they were going for and telekinesis seemed like the way to do it. None of the tests have been completely successful. The incident with the soldier dying in front of the young boy's room was as close as they had ever gotten. That child caused that man to die of an aneurysm, but in turn the child gave itself one. Simply, the boy had a power that he couldn't control and Meisler was the one who gave him that power and actually expected him to be able to control it. He had to redeem himself. He had to make things right. Meisler clicked 'Send' and went off to make his rounds. SOMEWHERE ON AZ-288 THURSDAY 7:30AM "You're lost, Mulder. Just admit it that you're lost." Scully couldn't help but smirk as his forehead creased in his exasperation and embarrassment. Neither one has been very nice to the other this morning. They seemed to be fighting about everything and nothing. But being angry and terse with one another is easier than actually admitting the fact that last night there was something going on that neither one wanted to admit, talk about, or get anywhere near to because 'that' conversation is a dangerous place to be. Mulder was tired of the arguing and a matter of fact so was she. This wasn't even really arguing. Arguing involves ideas, points, and evidence constructively put together and delivered. This was just petty bickering. When one of them said something the other had to take the opposite side. At this point, if Mulder were to say right now that he absolutely did not believe in extraterrestrials, Scully would have to say that she did believe and that's quite a stretch. That's more than a stretch, that's a pulled muscle. Scully was saying something about how men never want to look at a map because they think they have some kind geological chart hidden in the back of they're head somewhere. Normally, Mulder would find her anger charming. As a matter of fact, he found it kind of sexy when she got passionate about something, but this wasn't passion and it most definitely was not his Scully. Mulder suddenly pulled the car over, stopped, turned off the car, got out and leaned against the hood. Scully just sat there frozen not exactly sure what to think. 'Maybe I pushed his buttons too much this morning. Well he hasn't exactly been the best companion on this trip. I am calling this a trip; I don't believe it. This is work. This is an assignment. He doesn't have to be my playmate right now, or ever for that matter. He's my co-worker, my colleague, my partner ... my Mulder. Who am I kidding? He is my companion. He's my best friend. I shouldn't try to belittle our relationship to strict professionalism because there is definitely something going on between us that has nothing to do with the professional, but it's absolutely personal.' She got out of the car and walked around to his side of the car. He was the first to say something. "Scully, why are we fighting? I mean, we normally argue, but now it just seems like we're taking cheap shots at each other whenever we can." "I know, Mulder. I guess it's just a bad day." "Oh come on Dr. Scully, the eternal skeptic that always has a 'plausible' solution, surely you can come up with something better than that." That came out more sarcastically than he intended and he wished he could take it back right then and there, but words are something that you can never completely take back. She looked genuinely hurt by that comment, and she had every right to be. He was using her science, sensibility and impeccable logic as criticism against her and they are actually all admirable qualities that he really does love about her. There was a long silence. Scully was trying to maintain her composure. She wasn't sure if she wanted to retaliate with words, a right hook, or just kiss him and get this whole thing over with. She was just so frustrated and emotionally frayed at this point it made her unsure about a lot of things and she hates that; particularly, she hates that Mulder is the one making her feel this way. Mulder could see that she was troubled by what he said and he reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away. So he tried as gently as he could to grab both of her arms and maneuver her so that she was between him and the car. She was looking anywhere but at him, and he was trying his best to keep his gaze on her. Then he said in the softest and most earnest tone, "I'm sorry, Scully." She still wouldn't face him, so he took his hand and placed it on the side of her face and slowly brought her gaze to his. He looked in her eyes and he could see the tears on the verge of spilling over. He couldn't believe what a jackass he was being. This is the last woman in the world he wanted to make cry. Heaven knows he's caused her enough pain already. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his gaze and repeated, "I'm sorry." Truer words were never spoken, nor have two simple words meant so much. In a way he wasn't just apologizing for his recent remarks and attitude, but for everything he had ever done to make her feel like this. It took her a while to get up enough courage to trust her voice and apologize as well. "I'm sorry too, Mulder. Neither one of us seems to have anything nice to say about each other. Or every little thing has to become personal." "Well, let's talk about that." "Here? Now?" Scully was shocked primarily by the fact that he wanted to address any 'personal' issues at all, let alone on the side of a road in Arizona. Also, she feels extremely vulnerable right now and isn't sure if she is ready for this conversation. "Mulder, I thought you wanted to get to this research center?" "And I do. But there's something, someone, more important I want to attend to at this particular moment, and she's standing right in front of me." 'Did I just say that? What was in that coffee this morning? I know that I meant it, but I can't believe I said it,' Mulder muses. 'Kiss him! Do it, Dana! Did you hear what he just said? He's putting aside his passion, his crusade to have 'this' conversation with you. Nothing needs to be said, just kiss him.' 'Now Dana, just think for a second. You're not the rash one. Talk is exactly what needs to be done. Just talk to him.' Scully swears she can actually feel the weight of a little devil on her left shoulder and a little angel on her right. Mulder takes her silence as frustration and indifference. At this point he realizes that he is definitely invading her space- there can't be more than two inches between them. He starts to take a step back when Dana's devil gets the last words, 'Kiss him.' And without thinking she reaches out and grabs his tie with her right hand. She just holds it for a few moments, not entirely sure if she wants to do this, but absolutely positive she doesn't want him to walk away. He returns to his position in front of her and she still has his tie in her hand. He hopes to any divinity that will hear him that he is reading her right, otherwise he might find himself lying half conscious on the side of an Arizona highway due to the graciousness of Scully's fist cracking his skull. He moves his hands to either side of her face and tilts her head upward a bit to meet his eyes again. He moves so delicately almost as if he doesn't want to frighten her away. He looks in her eyes, asking for her permission. Her eyes flit from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. Definitely granting him permission. He carefully leans his head down, almost like it's in slow motion. She closes her eyes in anticipation and ... Suddenly, there seems to be a siren going off. Both stop frozen in time for a second, each one trying to figure out if the noise is real or some kind of internal alarm going off to say that this is terribly, terribly wrong. The fire engines, ambulances, and state troopers zooming by bring them back to reality. One of the patrol cars slows down and stops next to them. The trooper rolls down the passenger window to ask them if they need any help. The two take a good three steps away from each other. Mulder asks the trooper what's going on. He replies, "Oh nothing you two need to worry about. There's a research facility just a few more miles up this road. We received a call about a fire. It's probably best if you stay away from it." At this point, Mulder takes out his badge and flashes it at the officer. "Well, I am Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI, and my partner and I were actually on our way to that facility for an investigation. Do you mind if we follow?" "Sure, not a problem." Scully was already in the car by the time Mulder turned around to get in. The trooper waited for Mulder to turn on the car and sped off with Mulder in tow. NEHUM GENETIC RESEARCH CENTER THURSDAY, 7:02AM That's the last thing he had to do. Dr. Meisler had just anesthetized and injected a lethal dose of morphine into Implantee 76126, just as he had done to the remaining experimental children. He took the woman's hand in his right, and stroked the hair on her head with the other. The only words that could come to his mind at this point are, "I'm sorry, Evelyn. I am so sorry." He never knew where they got these women, just that they showed up and were kept unconscious through the majority of their treatment. He always made sure to get their names; the least he could do was let them remain human in that aspect. The door opens to the room and in walks General Werther holding some papers and rye smile on his face. "What do you think you're doing?" he inquires Meisler. At this point, Dr. Meisler realizes that he doesn't have much left to lose other than his life, and this leach standing in front of him sucked that out of him a long time ago. For the first time in his life, he grew a backbone in front of a four star general. "I'm through, Werther. There aren't going to be more experiments. No more implantations or researching. It's over. I crashed my computer and the whole database. Everything that was on paper disintegrated in a vat of acid so you can't continue the research unless you start from the ground up. And furthermore, the whole world will know what's been going on here soon enough." "Yes, your 'redemption.'" Werther said amused. Meisler was shocked, "How do you know?" "I know everything. Do you take us for idiots, Doctor? Do you honestly believe that every single thing you have done for the past fourteen years hasn't been monitored? In particular, that email coming out of this place, and your personal home computer as well, isn't read and then passed on if impartial? Meisler was horrified. His redemption would land on false ears, or worse, deleted from all existence. "I don't believe it." This was the only phrase the good doctor could utter. "Oh believe it, Meisler. And since you've decided to defect from our little research project, I'm afraid you'll have to die." Without hesitation, General Werther pulls a gun from under his coat, points it at Meisler and fires. The shot goes clean through his chest and out his back. Werther forgot one thing in his moment of glory in crushing this poor scientist ... the oxygen tanks in the back of the room. Upon exiting Meisler, the bullet hit a pair of oxygen tanks on the far wall creating a massive fireball that filled the room and spread through hall to the laboratory across the way. The fire set off a chain reaction as chemicals burned and the whole place turned into one giant lab experiment gone wrong. The people in the facilities above felt a jerk, like a bomb went off underneath the building. Automatically, the computers notified the local emergency centers. 7:37AM Mulder and Scully finally pull up to the building behind the state troopers. They get out and proceed to the building. They approach a man who appears to be the one in charge of the facility and show him their badges. "Hello, there. I'm Special Agent Mulder, and this is my partner, Agent Scully. We're with the FBI and were sent here to investigate a case involving Nahum. Can you tell us what happened here? Was anyone injured?" The young man looked concerned by the agents' presence but not about what was happening inside. He looked cocky enough that he would light a cigarette by the flames. "Apparently there was an explosion in the basement. We do keep a lot of hazardous chemicals around. One of the containers must have cracked and mixed with something else. No one was hurt except for the guards who were on watch, although it may be difficult to find their remains after this incineration. But, the fire fighters seem to be controlling the blaze well enough. " Mulder wasn't buying it. Including the fact that this scientist wouldn't be upset about his research going up in flames. "Exactly what kinds of experiments go on here?" Mulder queried. "Various types of genetic research. I really can't be more specific than that. Most of what we do is classified. This is a government owned facility, so certain things have to stay under wraps. You understand ... Security of secrets." Mulder can't help but smirk at the young man. "Yes, I understand perfectly. Thank you, Doctor ... I'm sorry but I didn't catch your name." "Lt. Colonel Benjamin Bradley, U.S. Marines." "Of course. Well, thanks." And with that Mulder turns abruptly and walks off toward the car with Scully trying to catch up. When they get to the car, Scully turns to her partner and asks, "What was that all about?" He just stares straight ahead at the burning building and says slightly irate, "There's no sense in even trying on this one, Scully. They've already started cleaning it all up. Whether or not that explosion was an accident, I'm sure it took whatever was really going on in there down with it." Scully placed a hand on his arm to give him some support. She hated to see him defeated like this. "Do you know where the word Nahum comes from, Scully?" "It sounds familiar, from the bible maybe?" "Nahum was a biblical prophet. The Book of Nahum foretells the destruction of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire. It speaks of the city's destruction by a divine vengeance. I can't help but paint a picture in my mind of that destruction to look something like this." Mulder takes her hand from his arm and squeezes it back. He knew he had her support. She made that clear by just staying with him for the past five years. He loved her for that. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was a thank you for the past and a promise for the future.