UMBRA 2:ELLIPSIS CHAPTER 3 By Dawson E. Rambo Disclaimer : Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and any other tangentially mentioned characters created by Chris Carter remain his copyrighted property, the property of 1013 Productions, and the property of Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. The author believes that the use of copyrighted characters in the forum known as "Fan Fiction" is protected under the "Fair Use" statutes of US Copyright law. No infringement of any copyright is intended. Characters created by the author remain his property. Archive Title : ELLIPSIS 3/? Posting Date : 10 July 1998 Classification : SRA/MSR[m] Overall STORY Rating : NC-17 (explicit sexuality, violence) CHAPTER Rating : R Keywords : UMBRA, Mulder/Scully, Thriller Summary : Withheld at author's request. Spoilers : "Deep Throat", Umbra Casting : "LtCmdr Pete Nelson" Abraham Benrubi "CPO Ramon Cruz" John Leguizamo ENJOY! +=+= Undisclosed Location New York City April, 2003 The room was lit only by the sunlight spilling through the venetian blinds. In any other place, the light might have been called cheerful; here it was cold, remote. Twelve men sat around the antique conference table, seated in comfortable leather chairs. Each had a crystal pitcher of water and a matching glass in front of him, an ashtray, a yellow legal pad and two sharpened pencils. The pad and pencils were an affectation; no one would dare write anything down. The man at the head of the table, whom all the other members referred to as John, spoke. "Bring us up to date," he ordered. At the opposite end of the table the Smoker sat, staring somewhere in the middle distance. When he spoke, his voice sounded hollow and tired. "Mulder developed intelligence about the attempt on Oceanic 210 and was in place to thwart it. His team assaulted the plane and removed six of our operatives in a clean, surgical strike." A moment of tense silence passed, and then John spoke again. "How did he learn of our plans?" The Smoker lit his fifth cigarette of the meeting, took a healthy drag, and replied. "Obviously, he has sources inside our group." Another silent moment passed. "One of us?" John asked. "No," the Smoker replied. "If it had been one of us, Mulder would have had his UMBRA team at the Phoenix airport waiting. As it was, they barely made it by the deadline our operatives imposed." He paused. "It must be one of our support personnel. One of our drones." Heads nodded around the table. This made sense. No one wanted to consider the possibility that one of them had turned, had begun feeding Mulder information about the Project. To be suspected of such a thing was a very quick way to develop terminal health difficulties. "Mulder is once again becoming an...annoyance," John declared. The Smoker nodded. He'd predicted this. He knew what was about to happen. He'd planned for it. Counted on it. "We must take steps to remove him from the equation," John said slowly, carefully. The Smoker nodded again. "If we do so, we must remove the Scully woman as well. And the President." "Why?" one of the council asked. "Mulder has seen to it that his wife would be able to carry on in a limited capacity if he were to meet an untimely end. We have no idea how much this informant may have told Mulder. We have to operate silently, in the shadows as always, easily able to provide full deniability. Any attempt to do otherwise would draw unwanted attention to our group and our objectives." Again, the heads around the table nodded in agreement. "And his team. Are any of them...capable of continuing his work?" "No," the Smoker said. "They are thugs. Muscle. Nothing more." "I can understand Mulder and Scully," one of the men said. "But why Matheson?" "I will answer that," John interrupted. "As you know, we've had a certain...understanding with various heads of states over the years. When we needed a...storage facility in '85, the Chinese were especially helpful. Likewise the North Koreans with that...situation from the Gulf War. "Every American President since Truman has understood the need for this group and the actions that we take. They were all briefed, in one form or another..." "Reagan," one of the men pointed out. "Yes, I'm aware of that discrepancy, but his wife proved most valuable in that circumstance. And, to the matter before us, that is not relevant. The point is that Matheson refused to grant us the charter we need to operate as effectively as we have in the past. In fact, when he was given the level A briefing upon his election victory, he did not ask for the level B briefing. He ordered this group disbanded, our members scattered to the four winds." The Smoker remained silent. "We have approached the Vice President," John stated. "Is she amenable to our needs?" another voice asked. "Yes," John said flatly. "She understands what the level A briefing implies, and was most curious. She asked for the level B briefing." "How high have we ever gone?" a fourth voice queried. "Johnson," the Smoker interjected. "He knew the full extent of the Project from start to finish. All of it." "And his reaction?" The Smoker just took another puff, ignoring the question. "Can we use the Vice President as leverage against Matheson?" "No," the Smoker replied. "She was added to the ticket for political expediency. She has...been left completely out of the UMBRA loop and has no idea of its existence. Mulder has never been in the White House when the Vice President is present." "Still..." the fourth man continued, "Surely she has some kind of...leverage with Matheson." The Smoker ground his cigarette out and stood, walking to the window. Splitting the blinds with his fingers, he peered at the world outside. "Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. When Matheson won the election, the first thing he did was call Skinner to inform him that he was being chosen as the next director, but with one condition. Mulder was to immediately dig up anything and everything that he could on the Vice President." "COINTELPRO?" one of the man laughed. The Smoker smiled, despite the situation. "Yes, similar tactics. Matheson explained why to Skinner, and Skinner turned Mulder and Scully loose. They unearthed some very...interesting things about the Vice President, information that Matheson could use at any time to remove her from office." "But she is agreeable to our needs," John spoke up, trying to regain control of the meeting. "And therefore, Matheson must be removed." Around the table, heads bobbed in agreement once again. "So, then," John said, looking to the Smoker. "You will take care of this matter?" "Of course," he replied. "Don't I always?" "I think," John said after a moment, "in this matter, we will need to be fully briefed. We will need to know exactly how and when you will accomplish this task." The Smoker considered the request. "We must take them out at the same time. Matheson's response to an assassination of Mulder and Scully would be immediate. He would go public with what he knows-" "A fragment of the whole," John pointed out. "But still enough to damage the Project beyond repair," the Smoker rejoined. "Therefore, it must be a surgical strike against all three." "How? A bomb?" The Smoker shook his head. "After all that unpleasantness in the Graves matter, we no longer have the access to the White House that we once did. We cannot get a man inside the way we did Graves. Matheson alone can grant that kind of unlimited access, and he's chosen to give it only to Mulder and Scully." "Do we have anyone in the Secret Service?" a sixth voice asked. "No, not currently. Two of our men were transferred to Los Angeles shortly after Matheson took office. The day after, I believe." "So, how will you accomplish your mission?" John asked. "We will wait for Matheson to make a scheduled public appearance. We will take him out first, and then Mulder and Scully, at the same time, no matter where they are." "Two assassinations?" John asked incredulously. That's... difficult." "But not impossible," the Smoker replied easily. Turning from the window, he said, "I understand your desire to be involved in this matter, and I maintain my belief that our leak is not in the room at this moment. However, I think we all agree that to maintain operational security, as well as full deniability, it would be best if this operation were undertaken with the utmost of secrecy. I will report my plans to this group only when they are in motion and unstoppable. To do so beforehand would invite disaster and recriminations were Mulder, for some reason, to develop intelligence regarding these plans." "How long do your foresee this operation taking?" "Several weeks, at least. We need to locate and identify two competent professionals to carry out the task, as well as our two... patsies. After all, it has worked for us in the past." "Another Oswald? If a Presidential assassin is murdered again, the investigation would never cease. The pattern would be too obvious to ignore." "This is true," the Smoker nodded. "But in the 1960's, we did not have access to the mind control procedures that we do now. The same... technique we used on Mulder in Idaho has been refined since. We will implant the appropriate memories in our patsies and let them take the blame." He paused, and grinned. "After all, it worked in Oklahoma, didn't it?" John readjusted the legal pad in front of him. "Are we any closer to discovering the identity of the MindWalker?" he asked. The Smoker lit his sixth cigarette of the meeting and took a long, slow drag. "No," he said. "It is imperative-" John said, insistent. "I am aware of the requirement," the Smoker interrupted coldly. "If you wish me to reveal ourselves to whomever the MindWalker turns out to be..." "What if it's Mulder?" a seventh voice asked. The Smoker moved to cut that line of discussion off immediately. "No. That is simply not possible. If that were true he would have uncovered more than bits and fragments of the Project by now. You would all be sitting in jail cells or worse." +=+=+= UMBRA Headquarters Undisclosed Location Virginia Scully was buried behind medical equipment catalogs when Mulder entered their office. "How goes it?" he asked, sipping from a Styrofoam cup of coffee. He held its twin in his other hand, offering it across his desk to Scully. Taking it, she pried the plastic lid off and sipped gratefully. Sighing, she answered: "I can handle up to ten bodies. I can fit cold storage units on board for that many. Do you foresee a situation where we'd have to deal with more than that?" Mulder sat behind his desk and propped his feet up. "I doubt it," he finally said, "but have Nelson or one of the guys check into incinerator facilities in Pave Creek. If we have to, we can quickly dispose of any...hazards." Scully shuddered at her husband's words. The idea of taking the bodies of boys...teenagers, young men that had been children only weeks ago and dumping them into an industrial furnace... Remember the mission, Scully reminded herself. Matheson's words the day after his inauguration haunted her still. "Simply put," the President had informed them, "you cannot fail. You will not fail." "I was wondering something, Scully," Mulder said. She waited. "If you think the biologic agent leaves the body at the moment of death, or shortly thereafter...where does it go?" Scully thought about it a minute and shrugged. "We don't have enough data yet to answer that question. What does....he say?" "I haven't asked him yet." "Why not?" It was Mulder's turn to shrug. "Basically because I don't think he'll tell me. What I get from him is that this journey of discovery, for the both of us, is a required part of this little ritual he's forcing us to go through." Scully nodded, biting her lip. "He has told us that all will be clear by the end," Mulder pointed out. "And since he...made himself known to us, he hasn't lied." "That we know of," Scully pointed out. Mulder nodded in assent. "That's true. But until he does lie to us, I've got to give him the room he needs to operate. Just as Matheson gave us ours." Scully stood, hands at the small of her back, and stretched. Mulder's phone rang. He hit the SPKR button with the heel of his shoe. "Mulder." "Fox?" Scully wrinkled her nose at the sound of the man's voice. Mulder snatched the phone up, listened, and paled. "How long?" he asked. "What do you think we should do?" Pause. "I'm going to inform Matheson," Mulder said, his voice making it clear that he wouldn't accept a counterargument from the man on the other end of the phone. Mulder hung up and reached for the other phone on his desk. It was a twin of the one in the Command Center. Bright red, with no dial or buttons. Ominous. He lifted it and waited. "Hello?" "Mulder, sir." "Fox. What can I do for you?" "We have a situation," Mulder said. Realizing how that sounded, he hurriedly added, "not directly related to any ongoing operations, sir. But it still very important that Scully and I talk to you as soon as possible." +=+=+= The White House President Matheson, seated behind his desk in the Oval Office, snapped his fingers at his Chief of Staff. The man glanced up from the couch set perpendicular to the desk and asked a question with his eyes. "How long will you need, Fox?" Matheson asked. "Half an hour, no longer," Mulder replied. Cupping the mouthpiece with his hand, Matheson said, "Find me half an hour. Today." Andy Hunt, Matheson's Chief of Staff, grunted and opened the appointment book. "Gonna be hard," he said. "Boy Scouts at noon," "What's that?" "Buncha Eagle Scouts built a sandbag dam during the Texas floods six weeks ago. You invited 'em here to get pictures and handshakes." Matheson's political instincts kicked in. "What's my rating in Texas right now?" "Seventy, seventy-five, on the rise. Repealing the Brady Bill all but guaranteed that." Matheson grunted. "What else?" "Secretary of Commerce at twelve-fifteen. House majority leaders at one; that one looks long. They want to go over the budget surplus again." Matheson nodded. "Push them until three." To the phone, he said, "Twelve thirty, Fox. In the office." +=+=+= UMBRA Headquarters Mulder hung up the phone. "You carrying?" he asked. Scully shook her head. "We're not on alert." "Where's your weapon?" "Home." "Have Pete draw you something from the armory. From this point on, you don't go anywhere, and I mean anywhere, without a weapon. Something big and nasty. Something that will punch a major hole in whatever you point it at." Scully sat back down at her desk. "Are you telling me or asking me, Mulder?" Mulder's eyes rose to Scully's. He wasn't sure if she was amused, angry, or both. "As your CO, I'm telling you. As your husband, I'm asking. Fair enough?" "Care to tell me why I have to carry a .45 to the grocery store?" "Apparently, our friends decided that my clever little ruse aboard Oceanic 210 indicates that I have a source inside their merry little band, and they've asked...him to facilitate our demise." Scully frowned, trying to decipher Mulder's words. "They've taken out a hit on us, Scully." After a second, he added, "Matheson, too." +=+=+= The White House 1228 hours The sleek, muscular GMC Yukon screeched to a stop by the East Entrance. Climbing out, Scully and Mulder flashed their IDs at the Secret Service, stepped carefully around the metal detector and headed upstairs to the Oval Office. They met Andy Hunt coming out. "He's waiting for you," Hunt said. As Mulder moved past him, Hunt reached out and touched him on the arm, stopping the FBI agent in his tracks. "Is it serious?" Hunt asked. Mulder knew that Matheson purposely kept Hunt out of the UMBRA loop. "Nothing we can't handle, sir," Mulder replied with a smile. Looking into the agent's eyes, Hunt knew how a field mouse felt when it spotted an eagle soaring overhead. "Very good," Hunt said, and moved off. Mulder followed Scully inside and closed the door behind them. President Ben Matheson was buried elbows-deep in paperwork. "Damn Congress," Matheson mumbled. "Sir?" "The leadership of our vaunted two-party system has realized that the budget surplus we are now enjoying, some two hundred and seventy billion dollars, could and should be well- spent in their respective districts. Instead of passing the tax cut that I asked for, they want to instead raise taxes to increase the surplus to fund such idiocies as they see fit. Instead of listening to the American people, who would dearly like to have as much money to spend on themselves and their families as possible, Senator Traynor wants to build a new Air Force base in his home state. Representative Hartwell wants more money to fund some asinine program to help drunk Eskimos, or some such nonsense." "It's lonely at the top, sir," Mulder quipped. Matheson smirked. "So, what's so important that I had to tell the Congressional leadership to readjust their schedules?" Mulder and Scully took seats in front of the desk. Quickly, Mulder brought the President up to speed. "Any idea when?" Matheson asked when Mulder was finished. "No, sir," Mulder said, shaking his head. "Agent Scully and myself have taken steps to protect ourselves as quietly as possible. Since we're both still, technically, federal agents, we'll be carrying at all times. I don't know quite what to do about you, though, sir." "How so?" "My first reaction was to get the head of the Secret Service in here and brief him in on this...but he'll want information. His first response will be not to prevent the assassination happening by reactive means, but by proactive ones. He'll want information about the shooter so an arrest can take place. And we cannot allow that to happen. To do so would tip our hand." "What do you suggest?" Matheson asked. "I was hoping to get your input on that, sir." Matheson stood and paced, hands behind his back. "Can't use military protection. This isn't some South American junta. Can't tell the Secret Service, and you have no idea when any attempt is going to be made, just that it will be in public, and timed so that you two can be taken out as well." He stopped. "For a little while, can't we just adjust our schedules to close the window of exposure?" Mulder considered this. "I had rather hoped to take one of the two assassins alive, sir. I was going to suggest that we somehow schedule a public event for all three of us. At that time, my team will be in place to...do what is required under the circumstances." Matheson nodded. "That makes sense. But the Secret Service will scream bloody murder." Mulder said nothing for a moment. "Sir, you've given me some rather broad powers..." Matheson waved his hand. He was well aware of what he'd done concerning Mulder. In the private safes of the Chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff, the heads of the uniformed services, the CIA, DIA, FBI and NSA, as well as the personal safe of the Secretary of the Treasury was an envelope that contained a single sheet of Presidential letterhead, signed by Matheson on his first day in office. Quite simply, it read: To Whom it May Concern: Fox William Mulder is hereby named Counselor to the President with all rights and duties thereto pertaining, and is also named as the undersigned's personal representative to the military and intelligence communities. When operating in this role, he is considered to have the Need To Know. All inquiries regarding this matter shall be addressed, after the fact, to Andrew Wallace Hunt, Chief of Staff, The White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC, 20002. With a single stroke of his pen, Matheson had signed the document that had given Mulder the broadest charter ever granted to a federal agent. In effect, Mulder could bypass any chain of command, any red tape, any rule, regulation, or policy. When operating as Counselor to the President, Mulder spoke with the President's voice. To those in the military and intelligence communities that reported to and worked with the Consortium, the document meant little. To those that were above-board and untainted by that unholy alliance, that little piece of paper opened doors and made things happen. "So, what?" Matheson asked. "You going to brief in the head of the Secret Service?" "No, sir. I believe we'll handle that after the fact. After we either have the assassins in body bags or custody, we'll inform them." "Custody," Matheson muttered. "That word again-" "Sir," Scully spoke up, "these men tend to follow a pattern in their dealings with matters of...terminal intensity. They tend to use non-U.S. nationals for their wetwork. It...furthers their ability to deny involvement. In that case, if the men we...take into custody are foreign nationals, the law is quite clear. Until their motivations are established, any attempt on your life could be considered an act of war by another sovereign power. In that case, we are quite within our rights to "detain" rather than "arrest" the suspects, and confine them to a military prison until such time as their true...associations can be determined. The US Code is quite clear on that fact. We can hold them for seven days before being required to charge them under UCMJ statutes. If, at that time, we choose not to charge them under the UCMJ, the FBI or Secret Service can then effect an arrest. At that time, their civil rights will come into play." "A week," Matheson mused. "Will that be enough time?" Mulder's smile was grim, resolved. "More than enough time." +=+=+= UMBRA Headquarters One Week Later Scully was in the middle of supervising the build out of her 18-foot PortaMorgue (as Mulder had begun calling it, much to her annoyance and frustration,) when Mulder appeared at her side. "How long?" he asked. "A week, maybe two." "How about a day, maybe two?" Mulder said. She turned to him. "What's happening?" "Apparently, our friends have decided to move the Montana operation up." Scully frowned. "Why?" "My guess? They want to test our intelligence network. See if we're as wired as they think we are." Mulder hooked his chin towards their office. Giving a few final instructions to the two grunting, sweating, frustrated men, Scully followed Mulder and closed the door. "So we're going to go?" He nodded. "We can't afford to pass this chance up. We need to know things only they can tell us." You mean their bodies, Scully thought. "We risk compromising our...friend," Scully pointed out. "I know. I've decided on a plan, though. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I like it. It's bold, audacious, and it will work, providing..." "What's your plan?" Mulder told her. Scully sat down, hard. "Mulder, you're nuts! You *cannot* be serious!" Mulder grunted. "I already ran it past Matheson. He agreed." "Matheson agreed to it?!" "With certain...provisions. We can't keep any of it. Skinner will handle the...red tape inside the Bureau. In a week or two, once the noise has died down, it will be returned, in full, and the manager will be given a very classified, very...important briefing by the President himself." "What if he talks?" "He'll be charged with violating the National Security Act and placed in a classified federal holding facility on the grounds of Fort Meade." Mulder paused. "And the key will be thrown away until this entire matter is resolved." "So...what now?" "Call the team together," Mulder grinned. "I have a late Christmas present for them." Scully sat for a moment, wondering if Mulder had finally gone too far. She was aware of the mission they had been charged with, and understood the consequences if they failed. Towards those ends, she was willing to do almost anything. But...this? Scully took a breath. Mulder waited. He knew Scully had to rationalize it out, had to deal with it in her own way. He was sure she would eventually come to see things his way, and if not, she'd come up with a better idea. "Scully?" Mulder prompted. "I'm thinking," she said softly. Scully tried to think of another plan. Mulder was right, she decided. The plan was fraught with danger, and it could end up blowing up in all their faces, but it was the only way. "I'll get the team together," she mumbled. +=+=+= The meeting room was cramped, even by military standards. Mulder stood at the front of the room, in front of a greaseboard containing a floor plan drawn in red. The UMBRA assault team filed in. There would be no air element to this mission, so Carol Kusche and her team were absent, as was the ground security commander. Mulder closed the door and began. "This meeting, and everything associated with it, is classified." There were scattered laughs around the room. *Everything* associated with the UMBRA team was classified, even down to the number of rolls of toilet paper they purchased. "You guys have trained hard over the last two years. The Phoenix operation came off without a hitch. I spoke with the President shortly after we got back from Arizona, and he wanted me to convey to you his personal appreciation for a job well done, and the pride he feels being your commander in chief." *That's* laying it on a little thick, Scully thought. "That being said, we have a new problem." Mulder's eyes went from man to man, focusing on each one in turn, holding their gazes. He believes, Scully thought, smiling to herself. He's the rarest of leaders, the kind that truly, deeply believe in what they are asking the men and women that they command to do. "The Montana operation has been moved up. It will occur next Monday. Today is Wednesday. I will be giving a rather lengthy briefing on your role in that mission in a moment. After the briefing, you all have 48 hours liberty. You will report back here on Friday at 1600 hours for a final mission briefing, and then we will begin our transit to Montana." Pete Nelson raised his hand. "Why so early?" Mulder grinned, turning to the greaseboard. "I'll answer all questions at the end, Pete." "Intelligence has determined that our friends are suspicious that they have a turncoat in their midst." He paused. "As you know, they are right. Therefore, to test our ability to develop intelligence and act upon it in a timely manner, they have moved the Montana operation up by four weeks. If Scully and I go through with the original plan, suspicion would be too great. It might compromise our source. Therefore, you six will infiltrate into Montana over the weekend. You will use the first set of cover identities that we have created for you. Those include driver's licenses, credit cards, social security numbers, the works. You will rent cars and motel rooms. You will obtain certain weapons fully within the law. I'm thinking that AK47s will do nicely, and some handguns. You will purchase very specific kinds of ammunition. "Shortly after nine in the morning on Monday, you six will enter the First Montana National Bank and commit an armed robbery, absconding with as much cash as you can obtain from the tellers' drawers. You will not make an attempt at the vault. I want you in and out in less than two minutes. "Scully and I will be in town. The cover story will be that we are acting on a tip, but did not know the specific location of the bank in question. When the school incident occurs, she and I will be in perfect position to take advantage of the situation." Silence blanketed the room. "Questions?" Mulder asked. ============= END CHAPTER 3 +=+=+= QwikGloss(tm) COINTELPRO - The FBI's highly illegal COunter INTELligence PROgram in the 1960's designed to discredit prominent members of the peace and civil rights movement; included bugging prominent activists and compiling huge dossiers on the subjects in question, such as the rumor that Martin Luther King, Jr. was having an affair. Fort Meade, MD - Headquarters of the National Security Agency. It has long been rumored that there is a classified federal holding facility on the grounds where people suspected or accused of revealing national secrets are...detained, sometimes for sincerely long periods of time. Since the NSA is cloaked in more layers of secrecy than a dozen CIAs or KGBs, this rumor has never been proven. Or, for that matter, disproven. UCMJ - Uniformed Code of Military Justice. The laws, and policies and procedures relating to those laws, that govern the US Military. Webnotes: ---------------------------------------------------- Please make note of the following addresses: http://www.azstarnet.com/~drambo/index.html (1) http://www.azstarnet.com/~drambo/ellipsis.htm (2) http://www.azstarnet.com/~drambo/u2doc.zip (3) http://www.azstarnet.com/~drambo/u203.doc (4) http://www.azstarnet.com/~drambo/u2txt.zip (5) Legend: (1) My main site. All novels, short stories, FAQs, etc. (2) The Ellipsis home page. All chapters currently available. (3) The entire NOVEL TO DATE, zipped in Word97 format. (4) The current CHAPTER in Word97 format. (5) The entire NOVEL TO DATE, zipped, in TEXT FORMAT.