019D9C090E03@comcast.net> baaaf299   
   Title - Decoding the Enigma   
   Authors - Amy Jonas and MagsRose   
   E-mail - adjonas2000@yahoo.com or magsrose@comcast.net   
   Rating - FRT-13 (PG - 13)   
   Category - AU/Gen/Het   
   Archive - Just let us know.   
   Feedback - Yes, please. Any kind is always welcome. We just like to know   
   someone is reading this stuff.   
   Disclaimer - Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here in   
   are the property of Chris Carter, et. al. No infringements of these copyrights   
   are intended, and are used here without permission. All original characters   
   are the sole property    
   of Mags or Amy and may not be used without the author's permission.   
   Summary - In 1940, Private Investigator, Melvin Frohike thought he was working   
   on a simple missing person case but he soon found himself embroiled in   
   something far more sinister.   
   Authors' notes - After seeing the Maltese Falcon, Amy presented Mags with an   
   idea for The X-Files characters in an Alternate Universe.  Intrigued by the   
   possibilities, Mags suggested a co-authoring effort.  The result is the story   
   you see here.  Thanks    
   to Erynn and Alison for betaing this for us.   
      
      
      
      
   Chapter 19   
      
   Fletcher grinned at Harlow as he covered her with his gun.  They both knew his   
   experience with firearms was limited: he was a conman; his personal weapon of   
   choice was his ability to twist a situation to his control by using his   
   nemeses’ desires against    
   them but the gun was loaded and Harlow was unarmed.   
      
   But it didn’t make her any less dangerous, Fletcher reminded himself.  The gun   
   and the Professor, he flicked his gaze to the bound scientist, were his   
   insurance policies until Krycek returned with the box of gears.   
      
   And speaking of the F.B.I. agent, where was he?  Fletcher glanced toward the   
   door almost willing the man to appear with gears in hand.  He wanted this   
   fiasco with Harlow over and done with.   
      
   “I can’t feel my hands.”   
      
   Fletcher smirked at his captives, turning his gaze on the longhaired man.  “My   
   apologies, Professor,” he said with a false empathy in his voice. “What are   
   your plans once I allow you to leave?  A long bath?”  Fletcher wrinkled his   
   nose.  The man    
   definitely needed one.  “A hot meal?  Or maybe…”  His grin widening, thinking   
   of how the man had spent the previous night tied up.  “… a good night's sleep   
   in a soft bed?”   
      
   Langly glanced at Yves who nodded her head slightly. “Yeah,” Langly muttered,   
   “All of that but not necessarily in that order.”   
      
   “You might want to reconsider that.”  Fletcher tapped his nose and laughed.    
   He enjoyed goading the man.  He made it so easy.  “Hey!”  he yelled when  he   
   noticed Yves inching away from him.  She was probably trying to get the drop   
   on him while he was    
   busy with Langly.   “Don’t even think about it, Sweetheart.”   
      
   Yves merely smiled contemptuously.  “I have no idea to what you are referring,   
   Fletcher.”   
      
   She took another step to the side and he turned with her, keeping her in his   
   line of sight, ignoring his bound captive.  She was up to something. He just   
   wasn’t sure what and that made him nervous.   
      
   “You’re getting paranoid.”  She made a show of holding her arms out, palms   
   up.  “I’m unarmed as you can see.”   
      
   And he could see.  Her black clothes molded to her body; accentuating every   
   curve.  There was no room for a weapon, not even a knife.   
      
   “You have the gun, the professor,” she continued smoothly with just a touch of   
   annoyance in her voice, “and now the Enigma.”  She grimaced, her next words   
   bitter.  “You’ve won.”   
      
   Fletcher laughed, delighted.  Harlow had just admitted defeat; that he had   
   trumped her.  He heard soft footsteps entering the warehouse.  Finally! Krycek   
   had returned with the rest of his prize.   
      
    “I wish I could be there when you explain to your superiors how you lost the   
   Enigma…again,” Fletcher said, letting his satisfaction ooze through his   
   words.  “Tie her up, Alex.”   
      
   “I don’t think so, bub,” a hauntingly familiar voice said.   
      
   Whirling in surprise, Fletcher came face to face with the last person on earth   
   he expected to see at that point. "You!" he squawked at the man in the trench   
   coat and fedora who stepped out of the shadows.   
      
   Moving quickly, Yves neatly disarmed Fletcher who, in his shock, offered no   
   resistance.   
      
   Frohike sneered, keeping his gun aimed at the center of Fletcher's chest.   
   Reaching into his coat with his free hand, he pulled out a set of handcuffs.   
   "Here you go, Sugar," he said tossing them to Yves.   
      
   "How did you…who told…when?" Fletcher blubbered as Yves bound his hands behind   
   his back. He'd been so certain, so confident of his assessment of the   
   situation.   
      
   "You're such an arrogant bastard," said Frohike, distain dripping from his   
   words. "We knew there had to be a reason for you to be in my office on a   
   Saturday night." The picture of Maggie's still form lying on the gurney in the   
   morgue popped into his head.   
    He closed his eyes against that image but this only made it clearer.   
      
   Frohike felt the same uncontrollable rage that had caused him to beat that   
   child murderer unconscious. Once again, it threatened to overcome his common   
   sense, his reason. His heart began to race as adrenaline pumped through his   
   body. His breathing grew    
   deeper and quicker. He could feel his finger tightening unbidden on the   
   trigger of his gun. It would be so easy, so quick. He would rid the world of   
   not only a conman but a traitor and a murderer. Would anyone really blame him?   
      
   Noting the tension in his body, Yves knew that Frohike was fighting his own   
   battle at the moment but she kept her primary focus on Fletcher. "I found your   
   hidden microphone shortly after we got to his office," she told him. Flashing   
   him a rare genuine    
   smile, she asked, "Did you honestly think I wouldn't check: that I would be so   
   stupid as to walk into a situation knowing you'd been there first without   
   taking some precautions." She cast another quick glance at the private   
   detective hoping that it would    
   not be necessary to forcibly disarm him. If he didn't relax soon, she knew the   
   outcome would not be pretty.   
      
   Fletcher could feel it, too. Frohike stared at him, unblinking, his head   
   cocked to one side keeping Fletcher in his sights. "Tell him to put the gun   
   down," he begged Yves. "You've got me cuffed. What can I do now? Look at him!   
   He's crazy!"   
      
   "Can you blame him?" was all Yves said in response.   
      
   Frohike was only marginally aware of this conversation. The urge to shoot the   
   man was almost too strong to ignore. Jail would probably be inevitable this   
   time. His newfound amiable relationship with the DA would not make any   
   difference. He knew like he    
   knew his own hat size that Byers wouldn’t hesitate to toss his ass in jail for   
   shooting an unarmed man.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)