"Umbra" 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.

Original Post  :  April 30, 1997

Archive Entry  :  Book I, Chapter 3

Classification :	Action Adventure
			Scully / Other Romance
			Mulder / Scully Romance (Eventually)
			Mythology

Rating	       :	PG-13
			Adult Themes
			Violence

Summary	       :	Picks up where chapter 2 left off.


Enjoy!
========================================================================


				       -3-

Office of Special Agent Fox Mulder
Federal Bureau of Investigation
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, DC


	"Excuse me?" Mulder said.
	"What?" Scully interjected.
	"You heard what I said," Stone remarked dryly. "My father, Matthew
Stone, Jr., was killed in a VC rocket attack in Da Nang, Republic of
Vietnam. His is the right thumbprint that was recovered at each and
every murder scene."
	Scully took a deep breath, feeling the room beginning to spin.
Mulder sat down hard, his eyes wide with disbelief.
	"What I don't understand," Scully said slowly, carefully, "is why
the Navy would allow you of all people to investigate this case. Surely
they can see the conflict of interest. Your own father!"
	Angrily, Commander Stone tossed the slide projector's remote on
Mulder's desk. "Neither of you understand. The man murdering all the
members of my team is NOT my father. My father died over twenty years
ago in Vietnam. Admiral Karn saw him die, held his hand, helped my
mother BURY him at Arlington. I don't know who is doing this, and I sure
as hell don't know HOW it's being done, but I assure you that it is NOT
my father."
	Scully nodded, the scientist in her accepting the logic. "That
makes sense. The commanding officer of NIS knows that it was your father
that died, and so..."
	"He sends the prodigal son out to catch the real killer, full well
in the knowledge that I know things about my father that no one else in
the world could. It makes perfect command sense."
	Scully nodded, the Navy brat in her agreeing with the logic of men
that commanded other men, those chosen few that had both the ultimate
gift and the ultimate curse to command men, to send them possibly,
knowingly to their deaths. Scully smiled the smile of those that had
walked the walk to Stone, letting him know that she understood. The
children of two career Naval officers shared a knowing glance.
	"I have a question," Mulder interjected softly.
	"What?" Stone asked.
	"Let's just for the sake of discussion postulate that perhaps it
is your father-"
	"I told you!" Stone interrupted. Mulder held up a placating hand.
"I heard you, Commander. Please listen to me now."
	Stone clamped his mouth shut and nodded, signaling for Mulder to
continue.
	"Let's assume that by some quirk of the universe, it is your
father, Commander Stone. What then? Are you prepared to track, arrest
and possibly having to shoot and kill your own father?"
	Stone sat down slowly, the blood draining from his face. "I never
considered that."
	Mulder shrugged. I didn't think you had, pal, he thought. That's
why I had to point it out.
	"Do you think it's possible?" Stone asked incredulously.
	Scully tilted her head to the side and shrugged. "You'd be
surprised what we've seen over the last four years," she cautioned.
"Things that defy any scientific...hell, any rational explanation.
Things that would, frankly, Commander, turn your hair white."
	Stone nodded, accepting this. "Still...have you seen anything that
would make this...scenario even remotely plausible?"
	Mulder stood and walked to one of the dozen or so filing cabinets
that ringed his office like some kind of demented metal Stonehenge.
Opening a middle drawer in one of them, he rifled through the folders
for a moment before locating and selecting the file he'd been searching
for.
	"A low priority case from about six years ago," he explained.
"Four sexual assaults in south Florida, all with...physical forensic
evidence that strongly suggested that the attacker was a single man, a
man that had been put to death in Texas four years before the attacks
began."
	Scully moved behind the desk to peer over Mulder's shoulder at the
file. "How come you never investigated it?"
	Mulder smiled. "Because I know how it was done. Or at least, I
have a very good idea how it was done."
	Stone noticed how easily Scully moved into Mulder's personal
space. He reminded himself that they had been partners for a long time.
Or are they more than partners? he wondered.
	"I'm waiting..." Scully prodded.
	"Well, the principle is not that far out. The CIA has been using
it for years. There are two ways that I know of to alter fingerprints.
The first is minute injections of silicon under the skin of the
fingertips. Lasts about a week, and can change fingerprints enough to
foil detection. But that's just enough to make a set of prints that
doesn't pop up on any computer, because basically, they don't exist.
	"The second way is a bit more complicated. What you need to do is
take a silicon casting of someone's hand. Then, you can create a very,
very thin `fingerprint glove' that the wearer can use to leave readable
prints of another person."
	"That's ludicrous," Scully protested.
	"No, it isn't," Stone corrected softly. "Mr. Mulder is...excuse
me, Special Agent Mulder is very informed. I compliment you on your
sources, sir. That method is supposed to be classified."
	"It is," Mulder said smugly. "I just happen to have very good
snitches."
	"You're forgetting something," Scully pointed out. "Whomever might
have access to this technology needs something else. Access to the
hand."
	All three of them fell silent. Mulder sat back, lacing his fingers
behind his head, his gaze once again far off. Stone opened his mouth to
speak, and Scully held up a warning hand. "Later," she mouthed. Stone
nodded, still not sure what was going on, but acclimated enough by now
to the situation to understand that these were not any ordinary FBI
Special Agents.
	After about thirty seconds, Mulder came out of it. "No," he
finally said, "They wouldn't need access to the hand. Not anymore. Maybe
six years ago, but not today. All you'd need was a high resolution
scanner, a programmable cast engine, and a copy of the fingerprints.
Like from the deceased's records. Military records, gun permits...
anything like that. The rest could be automated by computer."
	Stone considered this, and then stood. "I'll see you two in the
morning," he said, moving towards the door.
	"Where are you going?" Scully asked.
	"The Pentagon," Stone answered. "My father's records are kept
there."
	Scully didn't ask why, but started moving towards her coat. "I'm
coming with you," she stated. Her tone of voice brooked no argument, and
Stone simply nodded.
	Mulder watched as his partner and Commander Stone left his office.
	As the door clicked closed behind them, one thought ran through
Mulder's mind.
	What just happened?
	And on the heels of that, another thought occurred to him.
	Mulder snatched the phone and dialed seven numbers from memory.

				       ***

	"Lone Gunmen," Langley answered.
	"It's Mulder. Turn off the tape," Mulder ordered. Langley
considered for a moment and then acquiesced, reaching over and thumbing
the huge reel-to-reel into stillness.
	"What's up, Mulder?"
	"I need an ID check run, very quietly."
	"On who? Don't tell me Skinner revoked your NCIC rights again."
	"No, I just don't want to go through official channels."
	"Ok, Mulder, but you owe us. What's the dude's name?"
	"Commander Matthew Stone, US Navy. Assigned to NIS."
	"Whoa," Langley said softly.
	"Find me everything. Every last thing about him you can."
	"You owe us, Mulder. Big time. Talk to you in about an hour."


				       ***

	Mulder sat back, his hand still on the phone receiver. Why did I
just do that? he wondered. Somehow, he felt it was more than just his
knee-jerk reaction to anything military. There was something about
Commander Matthew Stone that Mulder just did not like.
	Forcing thoughts of Stone and Scully sharing the long car ride to
the Pentagon from his mind, Mulder turned his attention to the
unfinished expense account reports that Skinner was always moaning
about.
	It was a long time before Mulder was able to concentrate.

				       ***

River Entrance
The Pentagon

	Matt Stone parked his NIS-issued Chevy Caprice in the NIS-only lot
just outside the River Entrance to the Pentagon, directly across the lot
from the helipad that the various high-ranking officers used when they
needed to get to Andrews Air Force Base quickly.
	"Must be nice," Scully remarked. "Not having all that distance to
walk that the mere mortals do."
	Stone thought about responding in kind, but decided against it.
He'd enjoyed the drive over. Dana Scully was an interesting, fascinating
woman, a woman with a razor-sharp mind, a woman who could keep her own
in conversation, and wasn't shocked when a salty sailor like him used
the work "fuck" in casual conversation. Not to mention the fact that she
was gorgeous to look at.
	"That's me, little lady," he drawled. "King of this here hill."
Just as the words were out of his mouth, the three-star admiral who
commanded SURFORLANTFLT exited the building and started walking towards
his car. As required by protocol, Stone snapped to attention and saluted
the flag officer.
	Scully looked away, trying to hide her smile. "Oh, yeah...long
live the king."
	"Very funny, Agent Scully. I imagine that if you FBI types had to
salute your superiors, every time Skinner passed you in the hallway
you'd snap to just as I have to."
	Scully laughed. "Who says I don't already? Skinner's an ex-
Marine."
	Together they ascended the short staircase leading into the
Pentagon. Matt led them on a twisting, turning, circuitous path that
ended up in a long hallway. At the end of the hallway was a metal
detector manned by four very fierce-looking Marines. They were visibly
armed, and the eyed the approaching duo with the requisite suspicion.
	"Sir?" one of them asked as Matt approached. Reaching into the
inside pocket of his dress uniform jacket, Matt returned with a small
black leather folder. Opening it, the Marine studied Matt's NIS
credentials, compared the photograph against Matt's face and nodded.
	"Ma'am?" the marine asked. Scully handed over her FBI credentials.
The marine performed the same procedure, nodded, and handed Scully back
her ID.
	"Ma'am, if you're armed, you'll need to check your weapon with
us."
	Scully looked over at Stone who was already reaching under his
jacket for the .45 Colt Officer's he kept tucked in the small of his
back. "Go ahead," he said. "Regulations."
	Shrugging, Dana reached to the small of her back and retrieved the
SIG Sauer P226 she had recently started carrying. Handing it to the
guard, she waited for Stone to finish signing them in.
	"This way," he said, placing a hand at the small of her back to
guide her through the metal detector. Scully had a sudden mental and
body image of the thousands of times Mulder had done the same exact
thing. Just like Mulder, she thought, only using the tips of his
fingers.
	Stone moved alongside her once they passed through the metal
detector and led her down another series of turning, twisting hallways.
They ended up in front of a door that, besides a very official-looking
placard that announced that access was for authorized personnel only,
was blank. There was a small magnetic card reader mounted at doorknob
level.
	Stone reached inside his jacket pocket again and retrieved his ID
folder. Removing one of the two plastic laminated cards, he slid it
through the reader. There was a pause, then the small LED that had been
glowing a steady red started flashing green, and Scully heard the
metallic click! as the lock disengaged.
	Pushing the door open, Stone made a sweeping motion with his arm,
encouraging Scully to enter first. She did, and was immediately struck
by the size of the room. It had to be at least a hundred yards long and
twice as wide. Row after row of filing cabinets were neatly aligned.
Remembering the last time she had seen so many filing cabinets, Scully
shuddered.
	"Cold?" Stone asked.
	"Something like that," Scully said. "What is this place?"
	"NIS Records Room. My father's records are here because he was
killed under suspicious circumstances."
	Stone had been leading her down one of the isles, and she stopped
at his words. "Suspicious? Matt, he was killed in a rocket attack in a
war zone. What's suspicious about that?"
	"The fact that the only rocket fired that day hit my father's
tent, Dana."
	When, she wondered, was the last time a man had used my first
name?
	"Oh. Well, lead on!"
	Stone turned and continued walking back. He seemed to know exactly
where he was going, because before long he stopped in front of a six-
drawer filing cabinet. Like all the others, this one was secured by a
combination lock, the dialface set into the fourth drawer. He spun it
easily, and opened the middle drawer a moment later.
	Quickly flicking through the files, he made his way towards the
back of the drawer. "Here," he said, pulling a thick file from the
drawer. "My father's official US Navy 201 file."
	Stone hip-shot the drawer closed and started walking back up the
isle. After a few steps, he realized Scully wasn't following. "Coming?"
he asked.
	Distracted, Scully looked over her shoulder at Matt. "Oh, sorry.
Lost in thought for a moment." In reality, she had been mulling
something that had been bothering her.
	He knows where his father's file is without having to look it up.
	He knows the combination to the exact cabinet without having to
look it up.
	He's been here before.
	Often.
	"Sorry," she said, turning and following him back up the isle.
Suddenly, the fact that Matt Stone was a tall, dashing, attractive Naval
Officer wasn't nearly as important and interesting as it had been thirty
seconds ago.
	Stone sat himself down at a desk that had been set just inside the
entrance. He snapped on the light and opened the file.
	"Shit," he muttered. "They're not here." He started rifling
through the file, faster and faster, finally picking it up and shaking
it.
	"Nothing." He sighed. "That partner of yours is pretty smart,
Dana."
	"Scully," she corrected. Stone looked up, concerned. "Did I say
something wrong?" he asked.
	"I...just think it would be a good idea to keep our relationship
as professional as possible, Commander."
	A dark cloud crossed Stone's face, but he managed to force a
smile. "Of course, Special Agent Scully. By all means."
	"The fingerprint card is missing, I assume?"
	"Yes."
	"When is the last time you saw that file?" Scully asked, trying to
use one question to hide another, deeper one. How many times have you
been here, Stone, looking at your father's file? Are you somehow
involved?
	"Four years ago," he answered, much too quickly.
	Scully accepted his answer on the surface, but some questions
remained in her mind. "Excuse me," she said, reaching into her pocket.
Pulling out her cellphone, she dialed Mulder's number.
	"Mulder."
	"Mulder, it's me. You were right. Commander Stone's father's
fingerprint card is missing from his 201 file."
	"Where are you, Scully?"
	"I'm in the NIS records room in the Pentagon with Commander
Stone," she answered, knowing that the real question he had asked was:
Are you alone?
	"I have some information I think you should hear, Scully."
	"What, Mulder?" Just then the connection started to break up.
Scully took a few steps, trying to clear the static from her ear.
	"Mulder? Mulder? Can you hear me?"
	"-one, he's not what he-" she heard, and then static, and then "-
eally need to talk to you abou-"
	"Mulder, I'll have to call you later," Scully said. "You're not
coming in." Disconnecting the call, Scully collapsed the antenna and put
the phone back in her jacket pocket.
	Stone had tossed the file into the "Re-file" basket and was
standing closely behind her. "Special Agent Scully, I've obviously done
or said something to upset you, and I'd like the chance to make it up to
you." He paused. "Would you have dinner with me?" He saw the look
crossing her face and held up his hands. "Strictly as professionals,
Agent."
	Dana considered. It had been a long time since she'd had dinner
with a man who wasn't a member of the FBI. Even if it was work related,
Stone wasn't Mulder or Skinner or Pendrall.
	"Sure, Commander. Where to?"
	"I know just the place," Stone said, opening the door.

				       ***

Office of Special Agent Fox Mulder
Federal Bureau of Investigation
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, DC

	"Shit!" Mulder swore. He looked again at the page Langley had
faxed over. It was a computer printout of Stone's Navy record. It made
for very, very interesting reading.
	Picking up a highlighter, Mulder began reading again, looking for
the patterns. Looking for the missing piece. It had to be there.
	It had to.

				       ***

Magoo's
Georgetown

	Special Agent Dana Scully patted the corner of her mouth with the
thick cloth napkin and then delicately placed it beside her plate. "That
was delicious," she said, her eyes smiling at the man across the table
from her.
	"I'm glad you think so," Commander Matt Stone, USN replied.
"Whenever I'm in DC I try to have at least one meal a week here."
	"Not much of a cook, eh?" Scully teased.
	"No, actually, I am a pretty damn good cook. It's just depressing
to cook for one, that's all."
	Well, Scully thought, that was pretty slick. He managed to convey
three pieces of information with a simple sentence : He's single, he's a
good cook, and he wants to meet someone.
	Am I that someone? she asked herself.
	Looking into his eyes, Scully imagined that there were worse fates
in the world than being on the receiving end of this man's armorous
attentions. He has...different eyes, she thought.
	Different from what?
	With a start, Scully realized what the rest of that thought was.
	Different from Mulder's, of course. And that thought itself
brought on a rash of other, more disconcerting thoughts. Is it that bad?
she wondered. Mulder is my best friend in the world, but... is he the
only yardstick I use to judge the men in my life with anymore? A
paranoid, sleep-deprived, fashion-challenged, obsessive-compulsive
federal agent? How did that happen?
	She knew. Deep down inside, Scully knew. She had taken on Mulder's
quest, either by unspoken agreement or situational osmosis. The last few
years, when viewed through the prism of distance and objectivity seemed
to have lasted six times as long on the one hand, and no longer than a
couple of weeks on the other. For better or worse, Mulder and the Quest
had become the center of her life for as long as she could remember.
	Stone looked at her again, his eyes boring into hers. He has cold
eyes, Scully thought.
	A killer's eyes.
	She had no problem seeing Matthew Stone as the executive officer
of a government-sponsored assassination team. No problem at all.
Suddenly, Scully didn't want to be sitting in a Georgetown restaurant
with him anymore. She wanted to be anywhere else but here: Home, at the
office with Mulder-
	Mulder.
	That was a thought that brought an involuntary smile to her face.
Mulder was as constant as gravity. He may be all those things: Fashion-
challenged, obsessive-compulsive, paranoid...but he was no killer. Not
like this man.
	This...monster.
	How any professional military officer could deign to become part
of something that was so utterly alien, totally repugnant to the men of
courage and honor that served this country every day, men like Skinner,
men like Ahab, even men like Mulder...it was beyond Scully's ability to
understand.
	Stone must have been able to read her mind.
	"You hate me, don't you? You hate what I stand for. Who I am. What
I used to do. The blood that I have on my hands and on my soul. That
blood taints me in your eyes, doesn't it?"
	Scully pursed her lips, not sure she wanted to answer.
	"Don't bother denying it, Agent Scully. I can see it on your face.
I'll just pay the check and then take you home. I'll drive as fast as I
can so you won't have to spend one more moment with me than is
absolutely necessary." And with that, Stone stood and stormed off,
looking for their server to claim the check.
	Scully wanted to feel sorry for hurting his feelings, but found
that she was unable to do so.
	Stone returned moments later, carrying her coat folded over his
arm.
	"Ready?" he asked snidely.

				       ***

Outside the Residence of Dana Scully
Arlington, Virginia

	Stone pulled the Caprice smoothly up to the curb and killed the
engine.
	They had spent the entire ride back from Georgetown in total
silence.
	"Thank you for dinner," Scully said stiffly, moving to unlock her
seatbelt.
	"Just a moment, please," Stone said formally. "I would like to
tell you something." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Remember that
scene in "A Few Good Men?" When Cruise is badgering Nicholson about the
"truth?"
	"Sure," Scully said. It was one of her favorite movies.
	"Well, to borrow a line from that movie, you couldn't handle the
truth, Scully."
	She turned to face him. "Excuse me?" The truth...if only this man
knew what she had gone through in search of the truth! He had no right-
	"I'm not talking about the kind of truth you are, Scully. I'm
talking about the kind of truth that exists in my world. The kind of
truth where there are no clear-cut options, no clearly delineated
choices to pick from. A terrorist has a plan to release a large quantity
of Tuban nerve gas in the New York City subway system during rush hour.
It would kill thousands of innocent people. So the White House sent me
my team to the Libyan desert. We parachuted in from 36,000 feet. Took
over half an hour to land. We crossed ten miles of desert at night and
waxed four terrorists in their beds as they slept. I saved thousands of
lives and you have the gall, the unmitigated audacity to look down your
nose at me?"
	"Why was it necessary to go to Libya and kill them? Why not just
arrest them when they enter the country?"
	Stone sighed. "I never figured you for a liberal, Scully."
	"I'm not-" she started, but Stone held up his hand. "Listen to me.
America is the most wonderful country in the world. One of the reasons
that is so is because we are so open. We can't watch every single border
crossing. There are just too many ways to infiltrate this country
totally, completely undetected. Would you be willing to risk the lives
of thousands...of tens of thousands of people in New York on the off
chance that a customs or immigration agent is on the ball that day and
managed to spot the forged passport this asshole has been using to
traipse in and out of my country for the last five years?
	"Well, I wasn't! Neither was my team, and neither, thank God, was
the leadership of this country. They did what was necessary."
	Scully waited for his anger to subside. "What about what's right?"
she asked.
	Stone turned to face her, his eyes bright in the confined space of
the car. "Listen to me...little girl... I'm going to give you my
philosophy in simple, easy to understand sentences. First, do what is
legal. If you can't do what is legal, do what is right. And if you can't
do what is right..."
	He paused again, his smile widening. Scully thought it looked like
the grin of a shark about to enter a feeding frenzy.
	"If you can't do what's right...do what's necessary."
	Scully nodded. "I can see you feel very strongly about this. But
we just don't agree, I'm sorry. Thanks for dinner." She got out of the
car, shut the door firmly behind her, and walked up to her apartment as
quickly as she could without actually breaking into a run.
	Inside, she saw the message light flashing on the answering
machine.
	"Scully -- it's Mulder. Call me. I have some information I think
you should have. It's about Commander Stone....call me anytime. I'll be
up."
	Scully reached for the phone and then stopped.
	No. Not tonight. Tomorrow. At work, before Stone got there, she'd
look at what Mulder had. Tonight, she wanted to just sit quietly, read a
book, drink some tea and try to forget the government sponsored assassin
with the dark, dangerous eyes, the crooked smile and the voice that sent
shivers up her spine.
========================================================================
END CHAPTER 3