From: mrkeller829@gmail.com   
      
   =====o============================o=====   
   "Chermera" by Mary Ruth Keller Part 19  of 45   
   E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net, mrkeller829@gmail.com   
   PG-13   X-File: Myth-arc   Disclaimed in Part I   
   Already sent to Gossamer   
   =====o============================o=====   
      
   Fenleyding, Northumbria   
   Thursday, June 11, 1998   
   4:49 pm   
      
   Alex Krycek looked up from the monitor to the white-haired man sitting a few   
   feet away. "How on earth did you keep this organization, with so many   
   connections all over the world, a secret for so long?" He had spent the past   
   few days reading over the    
   history of the Forty. Now he found he could no longer contain his admiration,   
   or his envy.   
      
   The Suebi chuckled. "High places, my young friend." He rose to cross the   
   Isfahan carpet before dropping a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Your   
   Organizations are sieves compared to us." He began ambling slowly around the   
   room. "We did not make the    
   mistake your groups did, of inflicting ourselves on innocents, outside of in   
   the most innocuous programs of education and charity. No, we went directly to   
   power, to offer knowledge." His smile was feral. "My Blessed Riata showed the   
   way. No one questions    
   a free jacket, or a warm bowl of soup, when cold, hungry, or a refugee. But, a   
   lost sister, a dying spouse, a cancer-riddled mother, all those mysterious   
   disappearances? How long did your people think they could keep that up?"   
      
   The dark-haired man pushed the antique walnut seat aside to stand. "But, we   
   have power! We are  feared!" He cringed before the cold glare. "I can show   
   you!" He was up and down the stairs before the Suebi could carefully   
   reposition the chair. Krycek    
   thrust a stack of papers into his hand. "Read this! Read through it. You'll   
   see."   
      
   A snort issued from a long nose. "Very well. You've been trying to get me to   
   read your documents since you arrived here. These are all tape transcriptions   
   your code talker made before his unexpected and untimely death?"   
      
   Now, it was Krycek's turn to chortle. "Exactly. The FBI would have been so   
   much further ahead if they had not been divided and distrusting." He crossed   
   his arms, waiting while the old man found his reading glasses, then settled   
   into a wing-backed    
   armchair.   
      
   --o-0-o--   
      
   Apartment 5   
   Alexandria, VA   
   Thursday, 11:53 am   
      
   The partners were seated side-by-side, the paper with the list of names lying   
   on the coffeetable. He pointed at the sheet. "We can't afford the time,   
   Scully. Sam." He was shivering again. "Sam." He fell to his knees, then felt   
   his partner's palm on his    
   cheek.   
      
   This might work. The auburn-haired pathologist commanded quietly, "Say her   
   name, Mulder."   
      
   He frowned up at her. "I can't."   
      
   Now, she knelt as well, dropping her hands to his shoulders. "Say her name.   
   Say the name she chose for herself." This was desperation speaking, she knew,   
   but she could not bear to see him suffering, not when they were so close to   
   closure for him.   
      
   He bent double, his teeth chattering. "I can't. She'll always be Sam." He   
   flopped bonelessly onto the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, his   
   face in the carpet.   
      
   She sprawled flat on her stomach, gripping him by the cheeks to force him to   
   look at her. "You said, back on Santorini, that you wanted to get to know the   
   woman she had become, not the little girl you lost." She pushed the coffee   
   table away, then guided    
   them both into a sitting position, she holding him upright by both shoulders.   
   "Remember? That's the key."   
      
   The thoughts becoming a lifeline, he reached to grip her arms. "Yes." The word   
   blew out as breath, not voiced, as he locked onto her green-blue gaze.   
      
   Her reply was in wisps in the air. "Then, say it, Mulder. Say her name, the   
   only one she wants."   
      
   "Sam-dra." The muscles clenched. "Samnnndra." He straightened. "Sandra." The   
   urgency of the unconscious prohibition weakened. "Sandra." His voice was   
   steady.   
      
   She released him, but rested her palm against his cheek. "Now, say it all."   
      
   "Sandra Ann Miller." There were hitches before the first and last names, but   
   it was enough. He fell limply against her lap, gasping. "Sandra, my sister."   
   He felt something deep in his nightmares shatter into tiny fragments. "My   
   sister. I can see my    
   sister." He began sobbing, long shuddering aches tearing him.   
      
   Spent herself, Scully wrapped him tightly in her arms, bending double over his   
   shoulders. It wasn't a cure, but, from here, perhaps, her partner was free to   
   begin healing from the horrors in his past. Perhaps, he could begin to find a   
   little peace.   
      
   --o-0-o--   
      
   U. S. Marshal's Headquarters   
   Arlington, VA   
   Thursday, 11:12 am   
      
   Charles Herrod, his curls more grey than brown, waved a tall man with straight   
   black hair to the seat beside the balding Director. "Don Tapping, this is   
   Assistant Director Walter Skinner."   
      
   The bespectacled AD sized up the slender Marshal before him. The younger man's   
   somber demeanor had him dispensing with pleasantries. "You know why I'm here?"   
      
   Tapping checked Herrod's face before responding. "Yes. The Senator told us   
   there is a matter on which you need our assistance. What can we do for the   
   Bureau that it can't do for itself?"   
      
   Skinner ignored the unspoken barb as he took off his glasses. "This is a   
   matter larger than any agency, Marshal Tapping. You should understand that   
   before we go any further."   
      
   Herrod's chair creaked. "We do, Sir, we do." He finished with a glare at the   
   younger man.   
      
   The Director set his teeth. "There is an Organization with several branches   
   working within the Federal Government that needs to be revealed and   
   dismantled."   
      
   Tapping shifted impatiently. "That your Agents Mulder and Scully have already   
   begun to expose, quite successfully, I might add."   
      
   Herrod found his feet to walk around his desk. "But, just two people can   
   disappear, Don, you know that. One agency can't go it alone, not anymore. We   
   know these groups have extensive air, land, and sea networks to transport   
   contraband and medical    
   experiments."   
      
   "Yes, we do." Tapping reached into his briefcase, then held a document out for   
   the Assistant Director to take.   
      
   As Skinner took it, his eyes fell on the younger man's wrist, where a rising   
   sun tattoo with twenty wavy rays, no larger than a dime, resided. He barely   
   heard the Marshal's next words. "We've tracked them over the years, as you can   
   see from this report."    
   Since the bald man was motionless, deep in thought, Tapping took the document   
   back to open it at a map of the continental US, extending the foldouts to   
   display the details. "Here we have the locations of the bases we have   
   uncovered."   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)