UMBRA 2:ELLIPSIS
CHAPTER 7
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 7/?
Posting Date            : 29 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                : Umbra, 


ENJOY!
+=+=+=

+=
Pave Creek High School

	Kristen Scott made a "shhh" motion to her driver and 
turned up the volume on the portable police scanner she held 
in one perfectly- manicured hand. "I can't hear!" she 
complained.
	Straining to listen, Kristen could just barely make 
out the voices through the static.
	"The electronics," Lyle Traynor, her driver and 
cameraman said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the 
rear of the van, "are probably interfering with the signal."
	"Well, turn them off!" Kristen snapped.
	"You want to get there in a hurry, or you want me to 
stop and turn all that shit off?" Lyle asked reasonsbly.
	Both, Kristen thought. "Just get us there," she 
finally said. "I'll let the police brief us."
	"Whatever you say," Lyle said, applying a bit more 
pressure to the gas pedal. They'd been covering another 
story when Kristen's beeper had gone off. The news director 
of WCBY had ordered them from city hall to the high school 
to cover the shooting, and had made it more than clear that 
if Kristen wasn't in place to go live with the story for the 
noon broadcast, she'd better warm up her resume.
	With nine minutes remaining, Lyle parked the van at 
the edge of the school's property and jumped out. Running to 
the back of the van, he popped the rear doors open and 
grabbed his Sony Digital Betamax ENG camera. Kristen, the 
wireless microphone gripped in one hand, was already 
trotting towards the scene. Lyle, grunting with the effort, 
hurried after her.
	Lyle glanced around as he ran, making mental notes 
about grabbing some cut-away coverage after the whole thing 
was over. He wanted to get some shots of the police cars and 
BCI vans with their doors open and light bars flashing. 
Those sorts of images always played well.
	"Hurry!" Kristen shouted over her shoulder.

+=+=
Cafeteria

	[Eight minutes,] Mulder thought.
	Scully nodded imperceptibly. [Gonna be close, 
partner.]
	The phone rang.
	Danny Koss walked over to the cashier's station and 
lifted the reciever to his ear. He listened for perhaps 
fifteen seconds. "South door," he said, "four minutes."
	Hanging up, he turned to his accomplices. "Peter. 
South door. Four minutes. Kristen Scott and her cameraman. 
Have the cameraman strip naked if you have to, but make sure 
he's not carrying anything he's not supposed to. Have him 
turn the camera off. If he doesn't, shoot him."
	Peter nodded and left.
	"Listen up," Danny said to the group. "In a few 
minutes, a reporter from Channel 11 news will be joining us. 
I will make my statement and then she will leave. I have 
decided to extend the deadline for my demands by one hour. 
If, at fourteen hundred hours, my demands have not been 
met...well, then you all know what happens."
	[Not if I can help it, pal,] Mulder thought.
	The room waited in silence.
	The minutes ticked by, each second stretching into an 
eternity.
	Mulder opened his mind as he never had before, 
reaching out, trying to find the mind he sought. He was 
looking for the news team, wanting to find out where they 
were, how close they were to entering the cafeteria.
	He felt the tickle as the base of his brain and knew 
that he had found the mind he was looking for.
	[Pushy little kid,] he heard in a voice he didn't 
recognize. [Big gun, though. Better do what he says.]
	[Now,] Mulder thought to Scully.
	She stood, on apparently shaky legs, raising her hand. 
"Excuse me?" she asked.
	Danny Koss turned to face her. "Sit down," he said, 
not unkindly.
	"I feel...strange. Can I get a drink of water?"
	Koss actually seemed to consider it for a moment.
	"No," he decided, using the rifle to point. "Sit 
down."
	"Oh...OK," Scully said. She made as if to sit down 
again, and then collapsed with a soft moan.
	"Are you OK?" Mulder said, standing.
	"What's going on there?" Koss demanded.
	"She collapsed!" Mulder said, moving around the end of 
the table and reaching for Scully.
	"Leave her there!" Koss ordered, taking a step closer 
to the crowd.
	Mulder scooped Scully up and began walking towards the 
front of the cafeteria. His right hand slid under her jacket 
and found the butt of her pistol. He tugged once and felt it 
loosen from her holster. At the same moment, Mulder felt 
Scully's hand under his jacket, tugging his pistol out of 
its holster.
	"I said, put her down!" Koss ordered again, his rifle 
coming around to point at Mulder.
	Mulder opened his mind again, reaching for Kristen 
Scott, trying to find out where she was, how close she was, 
how much time he had.
	[God, aren't we there *yet*? I don't want to look 
sweaty on camera!]
	"Put her DOWN!" Koss ordered again.
	[Now,] Mulder thought.

+=+=
Stoptime

Mulder: put her down gently gently gently she's down find 
Koss find a target target there he is moving he's moving 
moving left moving left track left give him some lead where 
did he go he's gone where is he WHERE IS HE he's down behind 
the counter he ducked he's there I can see him he's getting 
ready going to pop up like a jack in the box be ready Mulder 
be ready get your sights up get your pistol up get ready why 
isn't Scully shooting where's the other target I can feel 
that rifle pointing at my back oh God don't wanna die don't 
don't there he is there he is coming up up center the sight 
center mass two shots in the chest fire fire fire squeeze 
the trigger Mulder pull it there chest there chest there 
head there head there nothing he's gone where did he go he's 
shot he's down where's Scully is Scully all right?

Scully: Roll right roll right give Mulder a clear shot find 
the target Dana find the target there he is he's pointing 
that rifle at the cheerleader no you bastard no fucking way 
there you are one in the heart how does that feel another 
another another there in the head he's down where's the 
third where's the third stand up move left move left keep 
cover don't shoot a kid find the target remember your 
training two in the chest one in the head move left there he 
is running in the door the reporter is behind him come left 
get a better angle come left wait for the rifle to come up 
wait wait the reporter is right there don't execute this kid 
in front of wait she's gone where did she go where is she 
shoot shoot shoot down he's down down it's over

+=+=+=

	Pete Nelson heard the shots and moved immediately. He 
had an evidence collection kit in his pocket, just in case 
Scully had forgotten hers this morning. He doubted it; he'd 
never known Dana Scully to forget anything important, down 
to the birthdays of each team member.
	"Shots fired" a deputy called.
	"Hold it!" someone else called, probably the Sherriff.
	Pete froze where he stood, itching to get inside.

+=+=+=
Cafeteria

	Scully pivoted on one foot, searching the room, the 
pistol finding potential targets, her mind immediately 
cataloging and then dismissing potential threats. 
	"CLEAR!" she called.
	Students and teachers alike sat silently, stunned by 
the sudden outburst of violence from the two "substitute" 
teachers. Mulder moved to Koss' body, kicking the rifle away 
from his dead hand.
	"Scully," he called, indicating the body. [Get to 
work,] he tought.
	[I'm on it,] she said, ducking behind the counter, 
grateful for the cover. No one should see what she was about 
to do. Let Mulder handle the crowd.
	"LISTEN UP!" Mulder shouted. He knew that everyone's 
hearing would be dulled due to the recent gunshots. "I'm 
Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI. Please remain in your seats. 
We'll be getting you all out of here just as soon as we 
can."
	Scully reached into her jacket pocket and brought out 
a small, cuatomized evidence collection kit. She studied 
Koss' body quickly and carefully, looking for the best place 
to take a sample. Quickly donning a pair of latex gloves, 
she bent over the body and began working.
#	Mulder's head shots had wrecked the skull, but they 
left the perfect opening. Reaching into the ruined cranium, 
Scully took a small scalpel and cut away a bit of brain 
tissue and some connective tissue. Placing those in the 
first container, she moved to the four chest wounds. Pushing 
her hand into the gore, she found what she was looking for; 
a tiny piece of the pericardium. She cut it away clean and 
moved south, taking a small sample of lung tissue she could 
reach by sliding her hand in between two shattered ribs. @
	[Done,] she thought, standing.
        [Get cleaned up, quickly,] Mulder ordered.
	Scully vanished into the food prep area, searching for 
a sink.
	At that moment, Kristen Scott entered the cafeteria 
microphone first, Lyle trailing behind her. His camera was 
on and rolling.
	"This is Kristen Scott, coming to you from the scene 
of what appears to be a massacare at Pave Creek..." Her 
voice trailed off as she noticed that the only people who 
seemed to be down were the three gun-toting teenagers. 
	"What happened here?" she asked. Spotting Mulder 
standing at the head of the room with a pistol in his hands, 
she moved towards him, thrusting the microphone at him. "Who 
are you?"
	Mulder moved to cut her off, taking Kristen by the 
elbow, turning her around and guiding her back into the 
hallway outside the cafeteria. 
	"Take your hand off me!" Kristen protested, twisting 
in Mulder's grip. 
	"I'm Special Agent Mulder with the FBI," he said 
soothingly. "We need to keep this room clear until we can 
process the crime scene. We need to debrief these hostages. 
As soon as we're done here, you'll be given a statement, 
along with the rest of the press. Please, let us do our 
job."
	"The public-" Kristen started. Mulder held up a hand, 
cutting her off in mid-word.
	"Miss...?" he asked.
	"Scott," she said. "Kristen Scott."
	"Miss Scott. Please don't take this the wrong way, but 
I'm constantly amazed at reporters that use that tired old 
"the public has a right to know" line. It has never worked 
in the past, and it will never work in the future. We have a 
job to do, and you know that the press will not be allowed 
inside the crime scene until we're finished processing it. 
There is no argument that you can use that will change my 
mind. We're both professionals, and I dislike the constant 
jockying for position. Just wait outside, and as soon as 
we're finished here, I promise, you'll get a statement."
	Kristen Scott had been a reporter for almost five 
years. No one had ever spoken to her like that, least of all 
a law enforcement officer. 
	Kind of refreshing, she thought. 
	"Fine, Agent...Mulder, was it?"
	Mulder nodded.
	Kristen and Lyle turned and left, returning outside.
	[Scully...what's your status?]
	[Two minutes...give me two minutes. And you need to 
get back here; the natives are getting restless, Mulder.]
	Mulder returned to the cafeteria. Some of the teachers 
were standing, trying to regain control of the situation.
	"Will everyone please take their seats?" he asked.
	Grumbling, they did as asked.
	[Almost there...] Mulder heard in his head.
	
+=+=
Norfolk, VA

	The Plumber was making plans.
        Given his druthers, the Plumber would have liked to 
utilize his office at the Washington Navy Yard, but 
considering the nature of the mission before him, that 
option was out.
        His basement office was softly lit from the desk lamp, 
and the Plumber had various files and notes spread out in 
front of him. Music played softly from a stereo mounted on a 
bookshelf to the Plumber's left. Next to the stereo sat a 
small TV, tuned to CNN, the sound muted.
        Something caught the Plumber's eye, and he glanced at 
the TV.
        A small graphic across the bottom of the screen made 
the Plumber frown.
        "Pave Creek, MT," it said, and next to that, "LIVE."
The Plumber grabbed the remote and quickly silenced 
the stereo and then turned up the volume on the TV.
        "...about ten minutes ago this ordeal came to an end 
as gunfire erupted in the cafeteria. Early reports indicate 
that all three teenage gunmen are dead at the hands of 
police, although details at this hour are sketchy."
        The Plumber watched as the doors to Pave Creek High 
School opened and Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully 
walked out. They waved to the police, who quickly stormed 
the building, weapons drawn.
        Mulder and Scully walked over to a tall man in a 
police uniform. As the Plumber watched, they offered their 
IDs and began speaking quietly to him, gesturing to the 
school.
        "...as you can see, police have entered the building. 
You are seeing live video from the scene of another tragic 
high school shooting. This is unedited footage folks..."
Interesting, the Plumber thought.
	Another man moved into the frame. Well dressed, tall, 
broad shoulders, a small goatee on his face.
	At first glance, he looked like another FBI agent. It 
took the Plumber a moment to realize he knew the man, 
recognizing his type rather than his specific face.
	Military, the Plumber thought.
	Some kind of operator. Special Forces, SEALs, ISA, 
something. Without thinking, the Plumber activated his VCR, 
taping the broadcast.
	The man in the police uniform seemed to be arguing 
with the two FBI agents as the third stood idly by, watching 
the crowd with predator's eyes.
	The Sheriff nodded one last time and turned, walking 
towards the wall of press that was waiting for him. They 
began shouting questions when he was twenty feet away. He 
held up his hands, waiting for silence.
	"I'm Sherriff John Adams of Pave Creek County, 
Montana," he said. "Most of you know me. I have a brief 
statement, and then I'll take a few questions. We're still 
picking up the pieces around here, so I hope you'll 
understand if we don't have *all* the answers right away." 
He paused, took a breath, and continued: "At approximately 
nine this morning, a sophomore student entered Pave Creek 
High School with a high-powered assault rifle. Apparently, 
he shot and killed the school janitor, and then proceed to 
gather his classmates together in the cafeteria.
	"At that time, the Pave Creek Sherriff's office was 
notified of a shots fired call at the school, and responded. 
During the negotiations, the student demanded access to the 
press, and threatened to begin executing hostages if his 
demands were not met. Because the student had already 
demonstrated his willingness to use deadly force, the 
negotiator brought in by the Montana State Police decided to 
seek voulenteers from the press corps. Kristen Scott, from 
WCBY-TV, voulenteered. 
	"We also had an ace up our sleeve," Adams continued. 
"What the student didn't know was that the Pave Creek 
Sherriff's office had received a tip from the FBI that such 
an incident might occur. Our plan from the beginning was to 
use the entrance of the press into the situation as a 
diversion so that two undercover agents from the FBI, posing 
as substitute teachers, could then attempt to arrest the 
student and his accomplices.
	"Sadly, when the FBI agents made their move, the 
student, and his accomplices, refused to surrender their 
weapons. The FBI agents had no choice but to employ legal 
deadly force in an effort to bring the crisis to an end. The 
result is that the student and his two accomplices are 
dead."
	Adams paused and then nodded. "I'll try to answer any 
questions that I can."
	The press exploded into a flurry of questions. Adams 
held up his hands again, silencing the rowdy reporters. "One 
at a time, please. I'm not used to this sort of thing."
	"Sheriff Adams," a voice shouted above the rest. "Why 
weren't the parents warned that a student was-"
	Adams cut her off. "The tip we had didn't name a 
specific date, Kristen. Warning the parents would have-"
	The Plumber muted the television and sat back, lacing 
his hands behind his head, thinking.
	Obviously, he thought, the two agents had obtained 
some very good intelligence. But from where?
	And what did a high school shooting have to do with 
the X-Files?
	
+=+=
Pave Creek, Montana

	While Scully dealt with the Pave Creek Sherriff's 
office, the Montana State Police, and the Montana BCI, 
Mulder found Pete Nelson in the crowd.
	"What the *hell* are you doing here?" he asked.
	"It was Cruz's idea, boss," Nelson explained. "Backup, 
in case you needed it."
	"My orders," Mulder said, jabbing a finger into 
Nelson's chest, "were clear. None of the UMBRA team were 
supposed to be here. If you're spotted, this whole thing 
could come apart, Pete."
	Contrite, Nelson nodded. "Sir, may I speak freely?"
	Mulder glanced around. "Sure."
	"Sir, this assignment...this is the best I've ever 
had. I've never had a better boss or a better job. And I 
don't want to lose it. This was an operation that was thrown 
together kind of quickly, and...well, the best laid plans of 
mice and men and all that. I didn't want to..."
	The hair on the back of Mulder's neck stood up.
	He opened his mind, probing.
	[I didn't want to lose her,] Pete was thinking.
	With a start, Mulder realized that Lieutenant 
Commander Pete Nelson, USN, was in love with Scully.
	"...I didn't want anything to happen to...you. Or 
Scully."
	Bullshit, Mulder thought.
	"What the fuck did you think you could do here, Pete? 
If things turned to shit...what? You were going to charge 
into the school, guns blazing? Save your boss?" Mulder took 
a chance. "Save the damsel in distress?"
	Nelson's head snapped back and Mulder saw the truth in 
the man's eyes.
	"I knew it," Mulder said softly, rubbing a hand across 
his forehead. "Jesus Christ, Pete. What the hell am I 
supposed to do with you now?"
	"Please don't reassign me," Nelson said, a pleading 
note creeping into his voice. "Please, boss..."
	Speaking carefully, enunciating each word, Mulder 
said, "Return to base. Await further orders. Go. Now."
	Nelson turned on his heel and fled.
	Mulder searched for his wife, wondering what the hell 
he was going to do.

+=+=
Norfolk, VA

	The Plumber sat in front of his laptop, studying a 
list of names.
	Operators, all of them.
	Some could be bought.
	Some could be persuaded. 
	Others, threatened.
	He was looking for something, although if asked he 
would be unable to describe exactly what. He was intimately 
familiar with each of the men on this list, (and most of the 
women), and was waiting for something to jump out at him.
	And in time, it did.
	A name.
	A single name that tickled a memory for the Plumber.
	Watts.
	Michael A. Watts, Jr.
	Why was that name so familiar? 
	The Plumber ran a quick check on the name and then 
remembered.
	Admiral Mike Watts, Sr.
	A friend of the Plumber's father.
	Murdered by Danny Graves in Pearl Harbor in 1997. 
	The impetus Mulder and Scully had needed to go into 
afterburner on the Graves case. And it had panned out.
	Admiral Jake Karn, then head of NCIS, had rolled up 
Graves' network of Ronin.
	They'd believed they had gotten all them.
	They'd been wrong.
	The Plumber knew.
	The Plumber was Ronin.
	He'd hidden his tracks carefully.
	Waiting. Watching.
	And now, in a perfect irony, the son of the man that 
had started Mulder and Scully down this road would become 
the tool to orchestrate their downfall.
	Perfect.

+=+=
Aboard VC-20 Tail Number N913998
Enroute to Andrews Air Force Base

	Mulder sat in his comfortable leather seat, staring 
out the window, wondering what he was going to do about Pete 
Nelson.
	"Penny for your thoughts," Scully said.
	No time like the present, Mulder thought.
	"We have a personnel problem," he stated flatly.
	"Nelson? He was just worried about us," Scully said 
softly. "He wanted to be there in case we needed him."
	"He's in love with you," Mulder said without preamble.
	Scully opened her mouth to object, and then closed it. 
"Are you sure?" she asked.
	"Positive," Mulder said, and by the tone of his voice, 
Scully knew what had happened.
	"So the question is," Mulder continued, "what the hell 
do we do with him? He can't continue to serve on the active 
team, that much is obvious."
	"Why not?" Scully asked reasonably.
	Mulder turned to face his wife. "I shouldn't even have 
to tell you why, Scully. If he's thinking about you like 
that, he can't be trusted to put the mission first. If we 
get into a tight spot, he's going to want to ride to your 
rescue, potentially putting the mission in jeopardy, 
possibly putting *you* in jeopardy."
	Scully waited a beat. "And you wouldn't?" she asked.
	"That's different," Mulder snapped. "I'm your 
husband."
	"Are you jealous?" she asked, her voice even, calm.
	"No."
	[Mulder?]
	[Ok, maybe a little.]
	"You have no reason to be jealous," Scully said. "And 
I think you know that." Scully reached out and touched her 
husband's arm gently. After a moment, he smiled.
	"Yeah, I do. I just...I never planned for this, 
Scully. I have no idea how to deal with it."
	"Well, the solution is quite simple," Scully said. 
"Let me deal with it. I'll talk to him."
	Mulder hesitated. "Pending the outcome of your 
discussion with him, he's still on the team. But, 
Scully...one mistake...one mistake, and he's history. I'll 
have Karn transfer him to the Artic Circle before I let his 
hormones endanger your life or this mission."
	
+=+=
Norfolk

	The Plumber had made a telephone call, and within an 
hour an officer courier had shown up on his doorstep with 
another blank manila envelope. This one had contained the 
complete 201 file of Lieutenant Commander Michael A. Watts, 
Jr., including his confidential psychological profile.
	It made for interesting reading.
	Watts had entered the Navy shortly after his father's 
death, via an ROTC commission. He'd applied for and was 
granted a regular comission, his father's questionable 
record not being held against him.
	He'd asked for and been granted a transfer to Naval 
Special Warfare.
	He'd also applied to join something called DEVGRU 12. 
	A little more digging had revealed that DEVGRU 12 was 
a classified military unit, the actual name of which the 
Plumber had been unable to discover. Still more digging had 
revealed that over 2,000 sailors, soldiers, airmen and 
Marines had tried to join DEVGRU 12. Working backwards, the 
Plumber checked the current status of all military personnel 
that had tried to join the unit.
	All but six had a current status that was verifiable.
	That meant that the six missing names, of course, were 
the unit in question.
	Turning to his laptop, the Plumber accessed the 
military records of the six, including digitized 
photographs.
	And hit paydirt.
	The fourth picture that popped up on the Plumber's 
laptop was the face he'd seen Mulder talking to in the crowd 
at Pave Creek High School.
	Lieutenant Commander Peter Nelson, USN. Navy SEAL. 
Sniper qualified. Veteran of SEAL Team Eight, and a later 
assignment to Team Six.
	There was a notation in Nelson's file that any 
questions should be directed to OP-O6G. Plans and Policy, 
the Plumber thought. A cover for this classified military 
unit.
	Turning to Watts' psychological profile, the Plumber 
discovered that Watts was incredibly angry at having been 
turned down for DEVGRU 12, so angry that he'd considered 
resigning his comission.
	Interesting, the Plumber thought.
	Very interesting.
	Why would Watts want to work for the man and woman 
that had been, at the very least, indirectly responsible for 
his father's death?
	There was one obvious conclusion.
	Watts wanted to bring Mulder and Scully down.
	Payback.
	Revenge, the sweetest of motivations for the Plumber's 
needs. Someone bent on revenge wouldn't want money, and 
wouldn't ask too many questions. Like a loaded weapon, the 
Plumber would only have to point Watts in the right 
direction and let him loose.
	Forcing Mulder and Scully to deal with the son of a 
man they'd killed...
	It was beautiful.
	Elegant.
	Perfect.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=
END CHAPTER 7