"Umbra" 16/?
                             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. No infringement of any copyright is intended. Characters
created by the author remain his property.

Original Post  :  June 12, 1997
Archive Entry  :  Book I, Chapter 16
Classification :  Action Adventure, MSR
Rating         :  R (Adult Themes, Violence, Adult Language, nudity)
Notes          :  None
Spoilers       :  "Pusher"
Antishipper    :  1 on a scale of 1-10.
Shipper        :  7 on a scale of 1-10.
Casting        :  Michael Ironsides, "Admiral Mike Watts."
               :  Tom Skerritt "Commander Scott Adams"
               :  William Baldwin , "Lieutenant Vinny "Boombox" Ferucci
Timeline       :  4th year, prior to anything having to do with cancer.

Enjoy!

------------

USS Chicago (SSN-220)
Berthing Space 17
Naval Base Pearl Harbor
Oahu, Hawaii
1020 Hours

	"Where to next?" Scully asked as they descended the gangplank 
towards the dock.
	"I think we should ask your friend Admiral Watts if he can get us 
a secure line to Admiral Karn. We need to give him an update and get as 
much detail as we can about Stone's conversation with Commander King."
	Scully nodded, agreeing with her partner's assessment. They drove 
back to Watts' office in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Each 
of them wondering what they had managed to get themselves into. The case 
was taking them in directions neither of them had anticipated, places 
neither would have ever suspected. The Deputy Chief of Naval Operations 
might be involved, in some way, with a string of murders that was 
related to two separate military missions almost a decade apart. And the 
man that the Navy had sent to work on the case with them was somehow 
involved. 
	Mulder frowned, thinking about Stone. At some point, Mulder knew, 
their paths were going to cross again, and he wasn't sure he would be 
able to keep from shooting the arrogant asshole. The marks on Scully's 
neck had already started to fade, but Mulder would never be able to 
forget the image of the angry welts against her perfect porcelain skin. 
	Mulder forced thoughts of delicious revenge from his mind as he 
pulled into the visitor's parking space and killed the engine.
	"I just had a thought," he said. Scully turned to him, her eyes 
tracking and finding his. They locked gazes for a moment, and Mulder had 
a sudden body memory of that morning in the shower, running his hands 
over her warm, wet, soapy body. He could feel her slickness under his 
fingers, the soft weight of her breast as he washed her. Without 
thinking about it, his eyes dropped to her bustline and then back up 
again.
	She flushed. "Mulder..."
	"Sorry," he said softly. "I did have something business related on 
my mind, but the moment I looked into your eyes, I remembered the shower 
this morning." 
	His words had an immediate and profound effect on Scully. The 
first part of Mulder's apology had been spoken with a little-boy-lost, 
puppy-dog `sorry' tone to his voice that she found both endearing and 
annoying. During the second part of his apology, however, his voice had 
dropped a register or six, becoming husky and raw, the sound of it 
scraping against her nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. She had 
the same body memory, but from the other side, the memory of Mulder's 
hands on her, touching her, his fingers gentle and warm and sure and 
sweet, worshipping her body with his touch, making her swoon under the 
hot water.
	He saw the blush rising in her cheeks and felt a little better. 
"You too?" he asked.
	"Yeah," she said, surprised at the sound of her own voice. I sound 
aroused, she realized. "Me, too."
	"Guess this is the part that's going to take getting used to, 
huh?" 
	She arched an eyebrow, asking the question.
	"Working together and...wanting each other at the same time."
	She looked away, out the window, not willing to answer, to confirm 
his assessment with one of her own. It was too dangerous, she thought. 
Too raw.
	"Mulder," she finally said, choosing her words carefully. "We need 
to be professional about this."
	"I agree," he said, "but I also think that after this case, we 
need to take some vacation time." He paused. "From us."
	Her head came around so quickly Mulder heard the tendons popping. 
"What?"
	He laughed, reaching out with his hand and finding hers. "No, let 
me explain. What I meant was that Mulder and Scully need to take a 
vacation from being Mulder and Scully, and go somewhere to just be... 
Dana and...uh, Mulder for a while. Get used to this...us. You and me. 
Together."
	Scully thought about it for thirty seconds and then nodded. "Makes 
sense. We'll talk about it later." She withdrew her hand and moved 
towards the door.
	Hurt, Mulder stopped her. "Scully?"
	She stopped, hearing the tone in his voice. She knew what was 
coming.
	"No, Mulder. I don't regret it." She turned back to face him. "If 
we weren't parked where we are, I'd touch your face and kiss you and let 
you know just how much I don't regret it. But we need to get _going_, 
Mulder, we need to crack this damn case so we can take that vacation and 
get back to normal. Ok?"
	"Ok," he said, smiling. When she looked at him that way, that 
exact, perfect, Scully way, there was nothing he could deny her.

***
Office of the Chief of Staff,
Commander, Submarine Forces, Pacific (COMSUBPAC)
Navy Base Pearl Harbor
Oahu, Hawaii
1036 Hours

	They were climbing the stairs to Watts' office when Scully stopped 
and touched Mulder's arm. He was a few steps ahead of her, so he had to 
lean down to hear her whisper.
	"What was on your mind in the car?"
	He grunted and came down to her step. "You said that something was 
off with your friend the Admiral. Any chance he's in on it?"
	Scully frowned. "In on what?"
	"This whole Stone nonsense. You said he seemed hinky."
	"Hinky? I never said hinky, Mulder."
	"You know what I mean. Hinky. Off. Jittery. Did you or didn't you 
mean that he was acting hinky?"
	She looked up at her partner. Strange, she thought. If he'd asked 
that question four days ago, I'd be storming up the stairs ahead of him, 
ready to defend Mike's honor until my dying breath. The man has eaten 
Christmas dinner at my mother's table. He was almost my godfather. 
	Mulder was right, she realized. Her own sixth sense was pinging 
hard as far as Mike Watts was concerned. There was something off there, 
just not quite right.
	"What do you think?" she asked.
	He shrugged. "You know him better than I do, Scully."
	She nodded. "True." Her decision made, she met her partner's eyes. 
"Only one way to find out."
	Mulder grinned. "Who's `good cop' this time?"
	She gave him a soft smile. "Neither. Just follow my lead." Mulder 
nodded, not needing to say that he'd follow her lead anywhere it took 
them, anytime.
	The Yeoman announced them and they re-entered Watts' office. He 
was buried in paperwork and looked up with a huge smile when the two 
agents entered. 
	"Dana! I'm so glad you could stop by!"
	"Hi, Uncle Mike," she said, a smile in her voice. Mulder had to 
fight to keep a straight face; when Scully wanted to, she could be 
downright evil. Well, he mused, she learned from the best.
	Me.		
	"What can I do for you, Dana?"
	Scully sat down, and crossed her legs. "Our investigation turned 
up some interesting information, and we need to communicate it to 
CINCNIS as soon as possible. Would it be possible to...oh, I don't know, 
`borrow' a secure line?"
	Watts smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll have a line opened right 
now. I assume you'll want some privacy?"
	Scully pressed her lips together and just nodded. "I'd ask you to 
stay, Uncle Mike, since what we discovered has some pretty wide-ranging 
implications. But the regulations...CINCNIS was pretty clear about who 
we're allowed to talk to and when." She paused, and Mulder felt 
something in his gut, a psychic twitch that signaled Scully was about to 
switch from passive to active target acquisition. "I mean, personally, I 
trust you. I know you wouldn't have anything to do with this." It might 
have been Mulder's imagination, but he thought Watts' had paled just a 
little at Scully's words.
	Watts' lifted one of the phones on his desk, and Scully thought 
his hand might be shaking just a little. Damn. "This will take a moment 
or two," he said, and dialed. He waited for someone to pick up and then 
spoke quickly: "This is Watts. I need an STU line piped into my office 
ASAP. Don't log or record it." Mulder's eyebrows rose at this. The call 
would be naked as far as CINCPAC went. No record anywhere.
	Must be nice to be the boss, he thought.
	"Mulder," Scully said, softly, as if trying not to bother Watts' 
call. Mulder felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This was 
it. Watts was lifting a cup of coffee to his mouth, smiling into the 
phone, waiting for a response.
	"Remember you were asking about my last vacation?" Scully asked. 
Mulder nodded. "I went to Philly, like my mom suggested." Mulder saw the 
opening and flashed Scully a warm, wide smile with his eyes. He saw a 
corner of her mouth twist up in appreciation that he'd gotten her not-
so-subtle hint.
	"Did you see the Liberty Bell?" he asked.
	SMACK!
	The coffee cup hit the desk and tipped, the widening pool of hot 
brown liquid staining Watts' papers. "Shit!" he said, dropping the 
phone.
	Scully caught her breath; there was an ice cold ball in the pit of 
her stomach. Watts was digging in his desk drawer, looking for something 
to mop up the coffee with. His eyes rose slowly and met hers, and he 
knew she knew.
	He hung the phone up.
	"Mulder, shut the door," Scully said softly. 
	Sadly, Mulder closed the door.
	Scully went for the jugular. "Mike...you have to tell us 
everything. Everything you know."
	Watts' answer was both immediate and shocking.
	"I can't. He'll kill me." He sighed, deeply. "Dana, you don't know 
how long I've wanted to tell someone...anyone, but...I can't He'll kill 
me, and Betty. And the boys."
	"Who?" Mulder asked.
	"Graves."
	"Danny, right?" Mulder asked. God forbid there was a fourth Graves 
brother.
	Watts nodded.
	Scully tried again. "Mike...you were one of my father's best 
friends. You held me in your arms when I was a baby. My mother even told 
me that you had a crush on her when you were younger."
	Watts flushed and Scully smiled.
	"Mike...we need to know. Tell us. We can protect you."
	He shook his head. "No, you can't. No one could. I'm not saying 
you're not good at your job. It's just...Graves...his reach never 
exceeds his grasp, if you know what I mean." Watts paused. "That man has 
watched Presidents die."
	Mulder suddenly grew his own ball of ice. He'd heard those words 
before, uttered by a man who sat in a stinking cloud of smoke.
	"I have to tell someone," Watts muttered. "Before this gets out of 
hand." He paused and looked at Scully. "I owe Bill that much. He knew 
that I was in love with your mother," he said, "and still let me be his 
friend. You have to promise to protect Betty and the boys. I don't care 
what happens to me...but my wife, my sons..." Scully nodded.
	Scully's mind was still whirling from Watts' earlier statement. 
	In love? With Mom? And Dad knew?
	"I'm only a little piece of it," Watts started. "A tiny piece. I 
don't know the whole picture."	
	"Tell us what you do know," Scully encouraged.
	"At the end 1972, I DEROS'd from Vietnam back to the states. I was 
a Lieutenant Commander. My next job was a staff slot at NORAD, 
representing the Navy on the Threats & Intentions Team." He paused, 
thinking back. "There was a lot of gossip in those days, just like 
today. Professional military officers can be such a group of old mother 
hens sometimes.
	"Anyway...one of the rumors concerned Nixon. The rumor was that he 
was slowly beginning to lose his mind. That he was going over the edge." 
Watts paused and turned his chair to face the window, lost in memory. 
"Over the next four months, we discovered that something was going on. 
We went to DEFCON 2 three times in two weeks, and over ten times over 
that four months."
	"What, at that time, was DEFCON 2?"
	Watts glanced back at his old friend's daughter. "Planes in the 
air, fast-attack subs sortied, carriers turning into the wind and 
launching aircraft, missiles in the silos humming, boomers coming to 
launch depth and popping the hatches on the D5's. The hot line open and 
humming. Teletypes clacking. Not quite hands on the launch keys, but 
every single SIOP unit waiting for the FLASH message that would start it 
all."
	Scully glanced at her partner, a frown creasing her perfect face. 
"I had no idea tensions were that high."
	"They weren't. That was the problem. Nixon was the Commander in 
Chief. He could take us all the way to DEFCON 1 without having to pick 
up a phone and ask anyone. When the Soviet Victor III and Typhoon-class 
ballistic missile submarines passed sea trials and put to sea, we knew 
that our SOSUS line was going to have trouble detecting them. And if a 
Soviet SSBN launched off our coast, Washington would have less than 2 
minutes warning. It was decided that POTUS should have the ability to 
get a first-strike off without having any questions asked, as it were."
	Scully nodded, beginning to see.
	"He was losing his mind. He was paranoid. We didn't know it at the 
time, of course, but it was later revealed that the man was a stark 
raving lunatic by that time, convinced that everyone from the Boy Scouts 
to the Red Chinese were out to get him."
	Mulder had a joke suddenly pop into his mind. What's the 
difference between the US Military and the Boy Scouts?
	The Boy Scouts don't have nuclear weapons.
	"So...anyway...in Threats and Intentions we started wondering what 
could be done if we had an insane President at the controls. A man with 
his finger on the button who had...lost it...was not a comforting 
thought."
	Watts paused, turning to look out the window again. "And so 
Liberty Bell was born."
	Mulder felt his gut clench. He knew what the next words out of 
Watts' mouth were going to be; he would have bet a year's salary on it.
	"Military takeover," Scully breathed.
	Watts nodded. "Yup. Operation LIBERTY BELL was originally 
conceived as a contingency plan for allowing the military to temporarily 
take control of the country in case of a...I think the phrase was... `a 
political administration in the last phases of human psychological 
meltdown.'"
	Mulder was confused. "What does that have to do with Goblin 
teams?"
	Watts turned to face Mulder. "Who do you think was going to go in 
and put a bullet in Nixon's head?"
	Now it was starting to make sense.
	"Ok, what was Nixon. He's not President anymore. What does..."
	He stopped. Something was teasing at the back of his mind, a 
little niggling something. Ordinarily, he'd be able to retrieve it, but 
for some reason it was escaping his grasp.
	"What is the state of LIBERTY BELL now?" Scully asked. "Certainly 
it's been scrapped."
	Watts sighed. "Yes. And no."
	He thought about it, trying to find the words. "Officially, it's 
off the books. Some of us in the military, however, think we exchanged 
one kind of madness for another, as far as the politicians go. Some of 
us think this country is headed down a path that it won't be able to 
recover from, Dana. A path that will lead to this country's destruction. 
I'm not talking about what's left of the Soviets or the CIS or whatever 
the fuck they're called this week attacking us. I'm not talking about 
tank warfare across the Fulda gap. I'm not talking about some terrorist 
smuggling a nuke into New York and detonating it in Times Square.
	"I'm talking about civil war, Dana. There are those that believe 
this country is heading for a civil war in the next twenty years, a war 
like no country has ever seen in the history of civilization. America is 
the most heavily armed Western nation in history. We have over half a 
billion guns in the arms of the civilian population. That's over five 
hundred million guns, Dana. And there are those of us that believe that 
someday, someday soon those guns will be... That we'll turn against one 
another."
	Scully spoke, her voice hushed. "Surely _you_ don't believe that!"
	"Not in the way that some of us do, no," Watts admitted. "But I do 
think that the policies of this country over the last thirty years are 
insane. I think that the politicians are more interested in catering to 
whomever pays them the most money, rather than doing what they were 
elected to do. I know it sounds corny, Dana, but I do believe that the 
members of the Congress have a duty to represent the people that elected 
them, not the special interest groups."
	"Like the Defense industry?" Mulder asked.
	Watts ignored him, focusing his attention on Scully. 
	"And if that day comes, if American turns against American, I 
wanted to be in a position to stop it in its tracks."
	"I don't know if you agree with what I just said, Dana, and 
frankly, I don't care. I know that my career is over. But I need you to 
understand why I did it. Why I joined them."
	Mulder's antennae went up. "Them? What do you mean, `them'?"
	"We call ourselves the Ronin," Watts said.
	Mulder and Scully both gasped. Memories of Modell washed over 
them. Mulder felt his gut twist with agony; he remembered the gun, in 
his hand, pointed at his own head, at Scully, the shaking barrel 
centered on her head. The click of the hammer dropping on an empty 
chamber. The look in Scully's eyes as she tried to reach him, physically 
... and emotionally.
	"You know about the Ronin?" Watts asked.
	"Ronin," Mulder explained. "It's Japanese. Warriors, samurai 
without masters."
	Watts nodded. "I'm impressed, Mr. Mulder."
	"Don't be. I know the rest of the story, too."
	Watts' eyes darkened. Mulder said nothing, pinning Watts with his 
gaze.
	"Feudal Japan. A great battle took place. Forty-nine of the 
samurai of one warlord survived, and swore vengeance upon the man who 
had ordered his death, another warlord. They pretended to switch 
allegiances, even going so far as to get drunk and laid with their new 
`boss.' After ten years, when the warlord had relaxed, the Ronin struck. 
It was a blood bath. The forty-nine Ronin killed every single Samurai, 
over three hundred of them, then the warlord, and then they committed 
seppuku."
	Watts nodded again. "I am very impressed, Mr. Mulder, very 
impressed indeed. Of course, we never intended to take it that far."
	"What's Seppuku?" Scully wanted to know.
	"Ritualistic suicide. You've probably heard it called "hari kari" 
or something like that," Mulder explained. Scully arched an eyebrow in 
response, and then turned her attention back to Watts.
	"Who are the Ronin?" Mulder asked Watts.
	"That's just it. I only know one other, besides Graves. And the 
other person I know, only knows another besides me. We're 
compartmentalized. None of us know who any of the rest are, save for 
two. Our contact, and our partner."
	Scully thought about grabbing her notebook to make some notations, 
and disregarded it. Mulder, the Human Notebook, was here.
	"Shit!" Mulder swore.
	"What's wrong?" Scully asked, and then with a flash of 
understanding, she got it. Graves was brilliant, that much was obvious. 
If Mulder and Scully arrested Watts, he would have a tripwire, an early 
warning system. He would have time to execute whatever operation he was 
planning before the authorities could find and arrest the rest. It would 
be nearly impossible to arrest them all. They would vanish into the 
woodwork.
	"What do you know about LIBERTY BELL? What's your role in it?"
	"When the operation commences, my main job is to..." Watts looked 
away, took a deep breath and then began again. "My job is to walk over 
to Building 1 and kill CINCPAC."
	He saw the shocked look on Scully's face and looked away, unable 
to hold her gaze. "My job," he said, his voice droning, "was to take a 
.45 and put a bullet into CINCPAC's head, and then take command of the 
Pacific Theater of Operations and await further orders from Graves. We 
have a private communications channel set up, and I was to have all comm 
links between here and Washington cut or destroyed."
	"That's all you know?"
	Watts shrugged. "My role changes as my assignment does. I'm up for 
a third star in a year or so...or at least, I was. I would probably have 
gotten OP08."
	Scully nodded, and it was Mulder's turn to ask. "What?"
	"Assistant to the Chief of Naval Operations, Plans and Policy. At 
the Pentagon."
	"What would your job there have been?" Mulder asked.
	Watts shrugged. "Depends. If CNO or my CO was one of the Ronin, 
nothing direct, I'm sure. If not, take control. Wreak havoc. Do what 
needs to be done."
	"Are there forty nine Ronin?"
	Again, Watts shrugged. "No idea. As far as I know, it could just 
be three of us."
	Mulder started pacing. "Missing...something is missing. You've got 
to have more. You've got to know more, even if you don't think you do," 
he muttered, thinking. 
	He stopped. "You've been a member of the Ronin since 1973?"
	"No, since about 1979. Right after Iran."
	Mulder nodded. "Ok...you weren't a two-star admiral then. You 
would have been what...a lieutenant commander?"
	Watts nodded. "Yes, so?"
	Mulder moved to sit next to Scully. "Take notes," he said to her. 
Startled, she reached for her pad and pen. "I want you to tell us what 
your billets were, and what your Ronin assignment was for every job 
you've had since you joined until this morning. Leave nothing out."
	Watts gave Mulder a blank expression. "Why?"
	"Because...Graves is still recruiting, I'm almost sure of it. He 
needs people in the places that you've been. His plans require that if 
you were able to do something for him in a given position, when you 
LEAVE, he needs someone else to take over your slot. Or at least, close 
to it. Once we know what jobs you've had, we can figure out who to take 
a closer look at." Or, figure out his plan, Mulder thought.
	Watts nodded. "Makes sense," he said, reaching for the pad. "Allow 
me. I can do it quicker."
	Watts bent to his task as Scully and Mulder sat back to watch. 
They were both thinking, although not about the same things. 
	Mulder was trying to piece together what he knew. As far as he 
could tell, the murders were a smoke screen. Danny had been trying to 
get back at the man who had killed both of his brothers. In preparation 
for what? And was Stone a Ronin? Was that what was going on? The leader 
of the Ronin trying to kill one of his own disciples? Stone, a madman, 
gone off the reservation? And why wait so long after Iraq to start 
killing Goblins? Or was Stone...actually a good guy, working under, 
trying to ferret out...
	No.
	That was insane. Stone was insane. He was in on it. He had to be. 
It was the only thing that made sense, considering the information they 
had.
	Scully was thinking about her father. How disappointed he would 
have been in Mike. Or would he? Scully wondered. Her father had loved 
his country, and had also been convinced that it was heading in the 
wrong direction when he'd died.
	Ahab a Ronin?
	Was it possible?
	"Mike?" Scully asked. "Was my-"
	"No. Never."
	Satisfied, she returned to her thoughts.
	And to think that I almost...with one of them....she shuddered.
	Mulder felt it, felt the revulsion running through her body. He 
glanced at Watts and saw that he was still writing. Reaching his hand 
over below Watts' sight line, Mulder patted Scully's leg, just above her 
knee. She smiled at her partner, letting it reach her incredibly blue, 
expressive eyes.
	Mulder thought he was actually going to swoon when Watts spoke.
	"Here's the list."
	Mulder read it over Scully's shoulder. "Scully, we have to get to 
San Diego. We have to find Stone."
	Scully nodded, standing to join her partner. She turned to face 
Watts. "Mike...we...we can't arrest you now. It would tip Graves off. We 
need you to..." She looked at her partner and then back at the Admiral. 
"I need you to tell me that you're going to cooperate with us, with the 
FBI, with NIS in this matter. Do I have your word as an officer and a 
gentleman that I can trust you?"
	Mulder knew that Scully was purposely pushing Watts' buttons, and 
he admired her skill at it. The two-star admiral drew himself up to his 
full height and all but saluted her. "Dana, you have my word. I'll wait 
for word from you. What should I tell Graves if he calls?"
	"Nothing. Tell him that we had a nice visit and that you told me 
to give my mother your best."
	Watts nodded. "Flying commercial to San Diego?"
	Scully nodded. She glanced at her watch. "Yes, and we have to get 
moving."
	"When do you arrive?"
	Scully did some mental calculations. "About five tonight, San 
Diego time."
	Watts shook his head. "Fuck that." He sat back down and grabbed 
his phone. "I need flight Ops," he said. Two seconds later he was 
speaking again. "Tony? Mike. Do you have any 14's ashore? I need two, 
ASAP....Mirimar. What?" Watts glanced at his watch. "I need them to have 
engines started in less than 10. Ferry service. Two...people going to 
Diego. Fine. Thanks, Tony." He paused. "Tony...one more thing. Log this 
as a repair flight, OK? I don't want this in the books as a ferry job or 
an escort job. Find two airframes that are old enough to need some 
repair, but not old enough if you know what I mean. I need this flight 
to be invisible. Thanks" Watts hung up. "I have two F-14/D's standing by 
on runway four right waiting for you. You'll be in San Diego in a little 
over an hour." He pushed his intercom. "I need two zoot suits in here 
right now!" He released the button.
	"Dana, what size are you?" he asked.

***
Runway 4R
Naval Air Station Pearl Harbor
Oahu, Hawaii
1120 Hours

	The Admiral's personal staff car screeched to a stop thirty feet 
from the two huge Navy fighter planes. They sat on the runway, squatting 
like two huge prehistoric bugs. The pilots stood by their aircraft, 
hands clasped at the small of their backs. They were both wondering what 
the hell was going on. Ten minutes ago they'd been playing a friendly 
game of cards in the alert shack, and then the klaxon had gone off, but 
only for the pilots. Not the RIO's.
	Who flew without a backseat?
	Watts was first out of the car, followed by Scully and then 
Mulder. The two FBI agents were carrying their overnight bags, which now 
contained their clothes. They were both in flight suits, and both 
carried helmet bags that had been quickly provided by Watts.
	The Admiral strode up to the two pilots. They saluted.
	"Sir, Commander Adams, sir," the older of the two pilots said.
	"Commander, these two people are traveling on official Navy 
business, and the nature of that business is highly classified. You will 
ferry them to Mirimar NAS, refuel, and return here. You are not to ask 
them any questions aside from "How was your flight, sir?" Is that 
clear?"
	"Aye, aye, sir," Adams said, obviously curious.
	"Additionally," Watts said, taking another step closer and 
lowering his voice, "This flight is a repair flight. Your two passengers 
were not in these aircraft."
	"Sir?" Commander Adams asked.
	"They were never here. Understood?" Adams nodded.
	Watts turned to Scully. "Well, Dana...good luck. Call me. Let me 
know if there's anything I can do."
	Scully nodded. "You have both our numbers. Call us if..."
	Watts nodded, leaned down and hugged his oldest friend's daughter 
and then stepped back. Scully walked over to Adams and held out her 
hand. "Dana Scully, Commander. Let's get this show on the road."

***
	Five minutes later, Mulder and Scully were each strapped into the 
backseat of their own F14's. The crew chiefs had given a very 
abbreviated safety lecture, pointing out where the ejection handles 
were, and what controls were not to be touched. (Which turned out to be 
most of them, Mulder was amused to find.) After they had both been 
hooked up to the plane's internal oxygen and pressurization systems, the 
canopies were dropped and both planes began to taxi towards the 
threshold. 
	Mulder was looking for a place to put his hands when he saw the 
two handles. He realized with a start that there were no flight controls 
in this backseat of the plane. What happened if the pilot had a heart 
attack? he thought.
	Eject, his mind answered smugly.
	The pilot's voice filled his ears. "Mr. Mulder, you and I are 
number one for takeoff. We'll be rolling in about fifteen seconds. 
Please hold on, sir...this is going to be unlike anything you've ever 
experienced in your life." Mulder wracked his brain, trying to remember 
his pilot's name. Ferucci, he remembered. Vincent Ferucci. 	
	Mulder was about to answer when the roar of the twin jet engines 
filled his ears. The pilot had thrown the throttles all the way forward, 
almost to the firewall, and the agile fighter dashed down the runway and 
then practically leapt into the air. Ten seconds later, the plane was 
climbing and banking, and Mulder could hear as well as feel the landing 
gear retracting.
	"Our flight time to San Diego is approximately 54 minutes," the 
pilot said. "Do you have any questions?" Mulder looked around for a 
button to push so he could talk. "It's on the floor, under your right 
foot," the pilot said.
	"How fast are we going, Vincent?"
	"Right now? About six hundred miles an hour. But when Commander 
Adams joins up on my left wing, we'll both be accelerating to about Mach 
1.6." Ferucci paused. "Call me Boombox, ok? Or at the very least, 
Vinny."
	Mulder gulped. That was _fast_.
	A moment later he saw movement over his left shoulder. He turned 
and gasped. Scully was ten feet away, slightly below him. He looked down 
and saw that the right wingtip of Adams' plane was under the left 
wingtip of his own. He could see her smiling and waving.
	"Can I talk to my partner?" Mulder asked.
	"Sure...left foot this time. Just give me a sec to change the 
freq."
	A moment later, Mulder heard her voice. "Hi, Mulder!"
	"Hi, yourself. So...this better than flying commercial?"
	She shrugged. "Dunno. What's the inflight movie?"
	"Top Gun?" he suggested, and heard laughter.
	A moment later, Boombox spoke. "Oahu Control, this is Ghostrider 
Two Six Zero, a flight of two 14's on a repair, requesting vector to 
Mirimar NAS."
	The response was immediate. "Ghostrider two six zero and two six 
one, turn to heading zero eight five, ascend to angels 24. You are 
cleared for Mirimar. Have a nice day."
	"Thank you, Oahu," Vincent said, and then on the intercom, "Hold 
on, Mr. Mulder."
	A moment later Mulder was slammed back in his seat as the pilot 
moved the variable-geometry wings to full back position, added throttle 
and then kicked the afterburners in. The plane rocketed forward. A 
moment later Scully's plane joined their left wing.
	"Mulder," she called over the radio. "This is...amazing. It's 
almost..."
	Don't say it, he thought.
	"...like sex," she finished.
	"My mother told me to stay away from fast women, Scully," he said.
	She got the message and didn't reply, instead raising the visor 
over her eyes and winking at him.
	"Commander Adams?" Scully asked.
	"Yes, Ma'am?"
	"Is taking off always...like that?"
	He laughed. "You should try it off a carrier some day, Ma'am. At 
night. In a storm. THAT is interesting."
	Scully nodded. Sounded like it.
	"How maneuverable are these planes?" Mulder asked Boombox.
	There was an answering chuckle. "How strong is your stomach, Mr. 
Mulder?"
	"Very," Mulder said smugly. "You should taste my chili."
	There was a pause. "Ghostrider zero to one."
	"One."
	"Wanna play switcheroo?"
	"Sure."
	A moment later, Mulder's world turned upside down. Both pilots cut 
out of afterburner, dropping the planes under Mach 1. They then rolled 
the planes exactly one-hundred and eighty degrees so they were flying 
upside down at over six hundred miles per hour. One pilot applied left 
rudder and flaperon, the other one applied right rudder and flaperon. 
The planes slowly drifted towards each other, upside down. Once they 
passed, one beneath the other, the pilots rolled the planes back level 
and rocketed through max power and into afterburner.
	"That answer your question?" Vinny asked.
	Meaning to hit the intercom switch, Mulder hit the radio one 
instead. "Oh, I don't feel too good," he said. "You guys got something 
in here....oh noooooooooo........"
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END CHAPTER 16