7:30 p.m. Dec. 7
Dana Scully’s apartment,
Washington DC

"I can’t believe you did this Emma." Dana Scully rolled her eyes toward the ceiling of her apartment.

"Why not?" The voice of her friend, Emma Draslon, was genuinely puzzled. "I thought you’d be thrilled. You were just complaining about how cold it is here the other day."

Scully sighed and stared at the ticket she held in her hand. Round trip tickets for a couple to Bermuda. All expenses paid. Her friend Emma had won them in a contest. Only catch was, she had entered the contest in Dana’s name and the name of her partner, Fox Mulder. "Emma, I’m not going to Bermuda with Mulder."

"And why not?" Emma asked stubbornly. "You need a break. You work too much as it is."

Scully heaved another sigh and sat down heavily on the bench by the kitchen.

She had been friends with Emma going on forever now. They had met while in highschool, and had been close friends since then. They had drifted apart while in their 20's but had always managed to keep up correspondence. When Scully had joined the FBI and moved back to the DC area, the two had quickly picked up where they had left off in their friendship.

But since Scully had joined the X-Files, she had rarely had time for her girlfriends. Her job and her partner were simply too all-consuming. Emma accepted her friend's distance very well, but still worried about her, and had seemed to take it as her personal crusade to get Dana to, as she put it, "Loosen up". Now, it wasn't that Scully objected to having fun. She just objected to dropping all convention and tearing off in to the kind of fun Emma was hinting at. And with WHOM Emma seemed to think she should have it with.

"Emme," Scully began, "this may be a new concept to you, but I have standards!"

"Standards? He's as hot as they come. What’s wrong with him?" Emma asked, still not getting it.

"Nothing. It’s just...I mean..." She trailed off, flushing with frustration. "That’s not what I mean by standards!"

"Ohhh. But you go lots of other places alone with him."

"That’s different. That’s business." Scully said firmly, getting back to her feet and facing her sister. "Emma, don’t you think if I invited Mulder to come to Bermuda, don’t you think that would be a little....suggestive?"

"Exactly!" Emma laughed, her baby blues brightly mischievous.

Scully stared incredulous at her friend. Did she have no morals whatsoever? She was a mother for god's sake. A divorced single mother, but a mother nonetheless. "No, Emme." Dana shoved the tickets back into her sister’s hands. "Absolutely not. You go." Scully turned on her heel and walked into the kitchenette.

"Okay..." Emma picked up Scully's cell phone, scrutinizing it carefully.

"What are you doing, Emme?" Scully asked suspiciously.

"Just looking for your speed dial button."

"What!?!"

"Hello, is this Fox Mulder?"

"WHAT!?!"

"*Hey*, Fox! This is Dana's friend Emma- Yes, she's fine. Yes, I'm fine too."

"I *DIDN'T* mean go with Mulder!!"

Emma just smiled. "Oops. Well, I was going to ask you something, Fox, but I guess nevermind. You too. Bye now."

**CLICK**

"Emma," Scully's voice was furious. "Are you crazy?"

Emma just smiled.

11:30 p.m.-Dec. 7
Fox Mulder’s apartment
Washington DC-

Fox Mulder leaned back in his chair, eyeing the transcript on his computer in the dim light as though it were a coiled snake.

(For what it’s worth,) He thought, (It might as well be.)

Reaching up to run both hands through his dark hair, he straightened, and then reached out to hit the delete key. The words on his screen vanished into blackness. Mulder’s eyebrows furrowed as he struggled with what to do next. The possibilities of this were not to be taken lightly. He needed more information.

Finally, he brought up a mail system and began to type.

~M. Luderf to Agent X~
[encryption system 2]
Research: BERMUDA

9:00 a.m. Dec. 8
Federal Bureau of Investigation HQ,
Washington DC

The sound of steel drums wafted down the hallway. Scully cocked an eyebrow as she poked her head into the small basement office she shared with her partner.

"Calypso music, Mulder?" She asked in a slightly teasing voice.

"I know, I know, not my typical pick." Mulder got off the desk he’s been sitting on, and flicked the papers back and forth. "But this is no ordinary tape." He moved beside Scully and put a hand on her back, leading her towards the tape player. "Listen."

Mixed in with the music, was the sound of tinkling glass, and muted conversation.

"Sounds like a restaurant on something." Scully sounded dubious.

"Exactly." Mulder responded, moving back to the desk and picking up a second tape. "One hour of the restaurant, a 20 min. taxi cab ride, and a hour and a half of boat cruise."

"Mulder. Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Well, actually, I was kinda hoping you could explain it to me." Mulder waved the tape in the air with a vague gesture. "Someone……left these by my door last night. About the same time, my computer suddenly comes to life, and brings up these." He pointed to a stack of papers on his desk. "So. Go figure."

"Not much to figure with." Scully told him. "What else do you know?"

"Well," Mulder sighed, "I know they were taped in Bermuda-"

"Ah…Bermuda?" Scully’s voice seemed to catch….or did it?

"Yeah. And the boat ride took them straight across the Bermuda Triangle."

"Wait a second, Mulder. If this is leading up to something about a disappearance in the Bermuda Triangle...." Scully trailed off and gave her partner a no-nonsense look. "I know we done some strange cases in our time, but don’t you think old fisherman’s tales are a bit out of our jurisdiction?"

"I wish they were, "Mulder replied, but there’s more. He took out the first tape, put in the next one and held up a finger. "After the hour and a half of boat ride, this happens." He pressed play. The peaceful sounds of soft music and waves issued from the speaker, abruptly followed by a bone-jarring, pulsating rumble and the sound of breaking glass and screams. Then suddenly, silence.

"Mulder." Scully’s voice was quiet. "What was that?"

"That." Mulder popped the tape from the player. "I would very much like to know. But even more than that, I’d like to know who." He turned to face her. "Who sent these tapes, and who taped them. Who hacked into my computer." He punctuated each "who" by jabbing the tape in the air.

Scully nodded, crossing her arms. "And why?"

Mulder suddenly spun on his heel. "That too." He picked up the papers, and moved closer to Scully to let her see. "These transcripts are the tapes verbatim. See the heading? It say’s they were recorded in Bermuda. And notice the dialog……the main speakers are identified as Alyssa and Jared C." He tilted his head toward Scully and looked expectant.

Scully looked up at him. "Is that supposed to sound familiar?"

"Come here." Mulder sat down at the computer and brought up a file. The small image of a young woman appeared, accompanied by a FBI profile.

"Alyssa Caitren," Mulder stated. "26 years old. Been with the Bureau for 3 years. Previous experiences include 2 years military training, 2 years in the navy as a fighter pilot. Chronic problems with authority," At this, Mulder looked up at Scully and cracked a half-smile.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well," Mulder continued, "here’s where it gets interesting." He turned back to the screen, and scrolled down. "Ah ha. Next of kin. Jared Caitren, twin brother." Mulder spun his chair around to face her, hand resting on his chin. "So what do you think Scully?"

"I think you still don’t have -or haven’t given me- enough information." Scully retorted. "Just because those papers say it’s someone named Alyssa doesn’t mean a thing. Mulder, those tapes could have been easily faked…"

"Oh ye of little faith,' Mulder waved at her. "Don't you think I thought of that? Trust no one remember? I’m not the kind of guy to believe anything that shows up."

Scully looked at him as though she could argue the point.

"But get a load of this." Mulder told her. He switched to a different FBI file. "Alyssa Caitren is missing."

Scully stared at the article. "Agent Caitren has been reported as missing, while on sabbatical with her brother..." She trailed off and went silent. "Mulder, just what are you proposing we do?"

"Do?" Mulder looked innocent. "What makes you think I’m proposing we do anything?"

"You have that look in your eye. Now what is it? Were not assigned to this case are we?"

"Well….."

"But you think because you were sent the tapes and stuff, you figure we have to assign ourselves."

"I... So what did that friend of yours...Emma? What'd she call about last night anyway?" Mulder said in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

It didn’t work.

"Bermuda." Scully answered.

"What?!?" Mulder stared at her.

Scully suddenly looked uncomfortable. "She, um, won these tickets in a contest. A contest she entered...under our names." Scully looked disgusted.

"To Bermuda?" Mulder asked.

"Yes, to Bermuda."

Mulder laughed. "It’s not funny Mulder." Scully was angry.

"Yes it is!" Mulder said, still laughing. "It’s hilarious." He wiped tears of merriment from his eyes and shook his head.

At that moment, the phone rang.

Mulder picked it up. Suddenly he sat up straighter in his chair. "Yes." His listened for a long moment. "Yeah. And where can we meet you? Oh, okay. No problem. How did you know about that anyway? You’re joking... We’ll be there in a half an hour." Mulder hung up and jumped to his feet. "Come on." He grabbed Scully’s arm.

"Mulder, what the heck was that all about?" Scully asked, pulling away from him, her expression saying ‘I’m not going anywhere, until I get some answers.’.

"That was Garrett Corban, Alyssa's Caitren's partner." Mulder replied, grabbing his coat. "He wants us to meet him at the Copahren Cafй as soon as possible. Guess who else got the transcript last night."

"Oh, good grief." Scully commented as she pulled on her heavy coat and followed her partner out the door.

10:05 a.m.
The Coprahren Cafй,
Washington DC.

"Agents Mulder, Scully," The tall young man nodded at them. "Thank you for coming. I’m Garrett Corban. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances." He sighed, running a hand through his reddish hair. "I still can’t quite believe all this...Alyssa is very reliable, so I was worried from the first. I hadn’t gotten anything from her in days, but even then, I wasn’t too concerned. I mean, she was on sabbatical after all. But then Grant called me..."

"Grant?" Scully asked. "Jacob Grant." Corban nodded. "Alyssa’s um, well, ‘special friend’. He’s a CIA agent, but that’s not important. The point is, Sprite never goes for more than a day with out contacting him if she can help it."

"Sprite?" Mulder inquired.

"Uh, yeah, that’s Caitren’s nickname. She addicted to the soda of that name, and well, she’s kinda got the personality to match. Looks more like a high-school cheerleader than an FBI agent. But she’s as professional as they come when it all boils down, sir."

"You seem to have great confidence in your partner, Agent Corban."

"Yes, ma'm, Agent Scully. That’s why I’m worried. If she was less of a agent, I could brush this off, but she’s just not."

"Have you talked to any other friends, relatives?" Mulder interrupted.

"Her twin brother, Jared, is her only living relative. And, yes, I asked a few of her friends. No one has heard anything." Corban shook his head. "Until last night."

"Has anyone else received these transmissions, to your knowledge?" Scully leaned forward, placing her hands on the table.

"No." Corban replied succinctly.

"Have you informed Jacob Grant of them?" Mulder asked suddenly.

"No sir. But my copy of the transcript indicated I should contact you and no one else. And I’m sure he would have told me, had he received one."

"Good. Don’t tell him." Mulder told him. "We don’t need any complications with all this, and a possibly distracted CIA agent would definitely be one."

"Probably." Corban agreed.

"Wait a moment," Scully interrupted. "What exactly do you mean by ‘all this’."

"The mission of course." Mulder smiled slyly at Scully. "Corban has asked the Bureau for permission to go after his partner."

"And..." Scully narrowed her eyes.

"Was flatly refused."

"They won’t let me go." Corban shook his head. "They’ve assigned me on a tax dodger profile.." He looked unhappy. "And told me if I don’t finish it I lose my job." He gritted his teeth. "And there’s no way I can get that done and look for Caitren too. Speaking of which," He stood up. "I have to get back to the office now," He picked up his coat. "Thank you again, I’ll keep in touch."

Scully turned to Mulder and looked at him dryly. "And let me guess…..This is where we come in."

"Well," Mulder smiled at her. "I’m not busy are you?"

"Mulder." Scully’s voice was tight. "Bermuda is out of the United States. FBI is internal only."

"That’s why were going to Florida." Mulder stood up and handed Scully her coat.

"And how are we going to get from there to Bermuda?"

"Let’s just say you need to call Emma..."

4:00 PM, Dec 9
United Flight 103
Somewhere over Northern Florida-

Dana Scully stared out the airplane window, wishing for the fiftieth time that she had not let Mulder talk her into this. At least I insisted we wait until the next day. She thought. If Mulder had gotten his way, they would have headed out on the next available flight after they left the Coprahan Cafй and their meeting with Garrett Corban. Scully had refused adamantly. She’d had quite enough of red-eye flights on legitimate cases- she certainly wasn’t taking one on a mission that would very likely get them nowhere but into trouble.

In her mind she reviewed what they knew about the situation. The details were sketchy. The whole thing could be called a long shot at best.

FBI Agent Alyssa Caitren had been on a three-week sabbatical. Two of those weeks she had planned to spend in the Bermuda Islands, the place she had grown up, with her brother, Jared Caitren. She and her brother had been in Bermuda for only 5 days when they seemed to disappear. Friends and Co-workers hadn’t heard anything from them, and the administrator of their hotel claimed they had not returned to their hotel after leaving on the night of the 6th. Then, inexplicably, Mulder and Garrett had received identical transmissions, and tapes claiming to be recordings of Jared and Alyssa. An entire missing person’s case based on pure speculation and absolutely no hard facts. Exactly the type of thing that can capture Mulder’s attention faster than anything. Scully though with a grimace.

She sighed, and turned her attention back to the magazine she held her hand. "ARE WE ALONE?" Read the heading on the main article. Scully rolled her eyes. It seemed that she was unable to escape this kind of thing.

"Here." She flipped the magazine at Mulder, who sat beside her with his headphones on. He removed them and looked at her. "Thought you might like to read the main article. It’s right up your alley." Mulder raised his eyebrows at the sarcasm in her voice. Her picked up the magazine and turned to the article. A slow smile of amusement spread across his face. He glanced at Scully, who was again staring resolutely out the window. The grin broadened momentarily, then Mulder turned back to the article, shaking his head.

(Ah, Scully,) he thought, (Skeptic though you may be, someday you’ll see the world differently. I know you will.) He glanced back at her darkened profile, silhouetted in the glare of the sun through the window. (I have faith in you.)

6:00 p.m.
touchdown
Miami-

Scully felt her teeth rattle and gripped the seat tighter as they made touchdown in Miami. She breathed a quite sigh of relief. Airplanes always made her nervous. She remembered the first airplane ride she and Mulder had taken together. A flight from D.C. to a small town in Oregon, to investigate the unexplainable deaths of a group of teenagers...

She sighed and ran her fingers through her red hair. And ever since, she had been step by step with Mulder on the cutting edge of weird. No to mention dangerous. Scully had lost count of how many times she -or her partner- had ended up in the hospital as a direct result of their cases and investigations.

But on the other hand, all that they had seen... all that Scully herself had experienced...drove her closer and closer to Mulder’s point of view, and farther from her cherished scientific vantage point. And the passion and relentlessness with which Mulder pursued the truth appealed to her in some strange way. There was something about his beliefs, or perhaps Mulder himself, that called to a deeply buried part of herself. The thrill was addicting and the quest challenging. But she suspected it was the close friendship, mutual respect, and trust she and Mulder shared, was what really kept her going. Sure, there were times she got annoyed with him and his methods; it never lasted too long. She glanced over at him.

Next to her, Mulder removed his headphones, and reached under the seat to pull out his carry-on in preparation for leaving the plane. He turned to Scully as the stewardess announced the plane unloading. "Guess we’re here." A worried look darted across his face for a moment. "Are you okay with this Scully? I mean, if…." He trailed off as Scully held up a hand.

"No, it’s all right Mulder." She reached down for her bag and smiled up at him. "Sorry if I was a bit testy earlier. I did agree to come, and I guess I have to drink my own brew."

"Even if I’m the one that got us involved in the first place?"

"You’re my partner, Mulder. Where you go, I go." She straightened. "And I’ll try not to complain."

"Thank you." Mulder turned out into the aisle and stood back so Scully could make her way out. "I appreciate that."

The agents passed through security and checkpoint without incident, and now faced the challenge of working their way toward the crowded baggage claim. As people squeezed in around them, Mulder put hand on Scully’s arm, protecting her from being jostled by the crowd.

"What do you say we forget the suitcases and go buy a whole new wardrobe on the G-tab?" Mulder whispered, close to her ear. She turned to give him a quirked smile. "Yeah right."

After battling their way to their bags, and then back out, Mulder and Scully were thoroughly glad to be leaving the airport. Twilight had fallen over the city, and a brilliant orange sunset lit the Miami skyline as Mulder flagged down a cab in the airport breezeway.

Scully helped her partner load the trunk and then turned to look over her shoulder as Mulder talked to the driver.

Suddenly, a figure with steel gray hair caught her attention. A whiff of cigarette smoke filled her nostrils, and then the figure was gone. (Him? What was he doing here?) Her blue eyes widened and she quickly ducked into the cab, thoughts awhirl. Mulder got in the other side and shut the door.

"What’s wrong?" He inquired, seeing the shocked look on her face.

Scully turned to him, and opened her mouth to tell him who she had seen, but then stopped.

(No.) She thought. (No, it couldn’t have been him.) "Nothing." She answered, avoiding his eyes. "It’s nothing."

9:30 p.m.,
The Coastal Hotel,
Miami, Florida

Later that evening, in his hotel room, Mulder made the final touches on their flight arrangements. They would check in at the Miami Federal Building the next day, and deliver the files papers Assistant Director Skinner had given them. After that, they would meet the small charter flight that would take them to Bermuda. This is where their "official" mission stopped. Once they boarded the charter plane, via the tickets supplied by Scully’s ever-so-generous friend, they were officially off duty, and entirely on their own.

Mulder frowned it the direction of the door leading to Scully’s adjacent room. He wondered what had spooked her at the airport. It had to be something, he knew. Her knew her well enough she couldn’t lie to him. And whatever it was had so visibly rattled her, he wasn’t sure if she could have lied to anyone. She had seen something, or someone. Of that much he was sure. But the question was, what? And why wouldn’t she tell him?

Well, Mulder wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. He sighed and loosened his tie. He decided not to push it, no matter how his curiosity itched. She would tell him if she thought he needed to know.

9:00 a.m., Dec 10
Sunny Daze Airfield,
Miami, Florida

"Ah! Senor Mulder! Senorita Scully! I am very pleased to be meetings you!" The dark skinned pilot greeted them with great enthusiasm.

They had arrived at the small airfield, to find their ride to Bermuda was already waiting for them. The pilot was a slightly rotund man, with a garishly bright Hawaiian style shirt, and white pants. He waved a faded blue cap in the air as he ran toward them. "Very, very pleased!" He eagerly snatched up Scully’s hand and deposited a series of overly friendly kisses on it. Scully glanced at Mulder with uncertainty. "Ah, yes, um…thank you." She desperately tried to pull her hand away with out being obviously rude.

It wasn’t working.

Scully gave Mulder a desperate glance. (Help me,) She mouthed.

Mulder just grinned and shook his head.

"Si, Si, we shall be good friends." The man went on, now shaking her hand until her teeth rattled. "I am Carlos Coriga, your pilot!" Releasing Scully, he turned on Mulder, and began pumping his hand up and down with even more enthusiasm than with Scully.

As the man began relating to Mulder what must have been his life story, it was Scully’s turn to grin. Smoothing her hair and slacks, she shot a triumphant glance at Mulder, who was still waylaid by the chattering pilot. Mulder gave her a look that said ‘I’ll get you for this.’ Scully just smiled and breezed ahead toward the waiting plane.

Scully hefted her bag, and threw it into the tiny baggage compartment without looking inside. It made a dull thump, as it hit the metal floor. Climbing into the backseat of the plane, she wiped sweat from her forehead. There was a loud thump from Mulder’s bag, and then Mulder himself appeared in the doorway to the plane.

He hopped in, closing the door and waving his free hand in front of his face. (It’s hot.) His glance said. Scully nodded vigorously.

"Are we gettings settled?" Coriga lumbered in and sat down with enough force to make the plane bounce. He looked back at them and gave them a toothy grin.

"Yep." Mulder murmured. Scully nodded. "Thank you, Pilot Coriga."

"You are welcomed. Okey, dokey!" The pilot turned around and flipped a few switches, humming snatches from the song, "In to the Wild Blue Yonder."

Mulder rolled his eyes. Scully poked him. (Behave yourself, Mulder.)

"Starting engine." Coriga said cheerfully, as he inserted the key.

Click.

Click - click - click.

"Or not." Mulder said dryly.

"I am not understanding!" Coriga was confused now. "I…" he trailed off. "Please forgive Amigos, but it seems I must do some repairs."

"No problem." Mulder said, nearly bounding from his seat and out the door. Scully could tell he had no intention of spending one second longer in the plane than he absolutely had to.

"We’ll wait in the hanger."

Mulder walked around the back end of the plane, distantly hearing Scully querying Carlos Coriga about the possible causes for the plane failure. Coriga was sounding distressed, saying he didn’t know, and professed loud apologies.

Mulder rolled his eyes and made a face. He had met some ridiculous characters in his time, but there was a limit! Spying a Coke machine through one of the dusty windows of the hanger, Mulder began to sift through his pockets in search of loose change. After flicking aside 6 sunflower seed husks and transferring a lone piece of gum to his jacket pocket, he gave up. He was about to go for his inside jacket pockets when his cell phone rang.

"Mulder," he answered his voice deadpan. A click followed by a raspy breath issued from the other line. Mulder's pace slowed as his body tensed.

"Agent Mulder," the voice croaked. "Someone is watching you, Agent Mulder."

"Who is this?" Mulder demanded.

"Meet me at the Dйjа vu Art Museum within the hour. All will be explained. You and your partner will not be harmed."

"Who is this?" Mulder repeated heatedly. "Who am I talking t-"

BEEEEEEEP.

"Shoot." Mulder cursed, jamming down on the ‘off’ button of the phone in disgust.

"Mulder!"

He turned, to see Scully jogging toward him, her red hair whipping in the wind. "Mulder, who were you talking to?"

"Ah, wrong number." He lied. Better not tell Scully about the mysterious voice, or they would never go to the art museum; and then they would never know who the caller was. He always felt guilty lying to his partner, but he knew he would never lie to her on any important things, and he just hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a "important" thing.

"Well, Coriga says he has to do some extensive repairs. He’s not sure how long it will take..." She trailed off with a sigh. "I really didn’t count on this Mulder."

"Why don't we just make the best of it?" Mulder interjected, "We don’t have to stay out here," He spread his arms for emphasis, "It’s about lunch time, and we’ve got all of Miami."

"Well," Scully mused, "Now that you mention it, a cafй lunch does sound good."

"Yeah, okay, and maybe we’ll poke around a few arm museums or something."

"A art museum, Mulder?" Scully asked with raised eyebrows.

"Hey, can’t a guy admire the works of Van Goh or Degos without you getting suspicious?"

"I believe you mean Degas, Mulder."

"Whatever."

9:15 am,
Sunny Daze Airfield,
Miami, Florida

Carlos Coriga was puzzled. This was not like his good little plane, no, no, not at all. Under his breath he muttered worried Spanish oaths as he peered under the hood of the plane. He just couldn’t figure it out. His little bird had just been serviced. What could have gone wrong?

Ah, there was the problem. A coupling had been smashed. But how had that happened? Oh well, it didn’t matter. The coupling would just have to be replaced. He ran a hand across his mouth, and headed for the back compartment of the plane where he kept his tools and spare parts. As he rounded the plane, he noticed the FBI couple get into their rental car and vanish around a corner. He was sorry to see them go. He fervently hoped they would keep their promise to return. He didn’t have enough business these days.

The door to the back hatch opened with a loud pop-clunk. But as Carlos’s hand entered the shadows of the compartment, something else exited it.

The muzzle of a 38 caliber pistol.

The pilot never even had time to scream.

9:30 am,
The Surfside Cafй,
Miami

Scully walked to the back of the restaurant in search of a place to wash her hands. The sandwich had been good, but messy. If there was one thing Dana Scully couldn’t stand, it was messy. She and her older sister, Melissa, had once shared a room, and the experience had nearly driven them both insane. Melissa was a cluttered scatterbrain, while Dana had always been something of a perfectionist. Scully smiled, but still feeling that little ache in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of her dead sister. But the smile died away as she turned the corner. Two figures stood in the corner of the shadowy, smoky hallway, one figure with a head of steel gray hair....

Scully quickly ducked through the nearest doorway, and found herself in a dusty supply closet. She took in a shuddering breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. This was getting suspicious. The Cigarette Man was here in Miami? And not just here, following them? She had suspected it at the airport, but now she was sure. It was too much to be coincidence, and the distinctive smell of Morley’s cigarettes was much too familiar. Something was going on here.

Scully pressed her ear to the door of the closet and listened closely. Her hand strayed behind her reflexively, until she remembered she had left her gun in her suitcase. Drat. She thought.

"They must be eliminated quietly." The voice of the Cigarette Smoking Man was muted, but still audible through the door.

"My specialty." The second voice, a thick bass, said confidently. "You said your colleague would pay me the advance before I start the operation. When will I be paid the rest?"

"I will contact you when the job is done. Do not try to contact me or the others."

"You got it. As long as I’m paid, you can consider the Agents dead."

Scully bit her lip. He meant Mulder and her- she was sure of it. The second man had to be a hit man that was being paid off by "Cancer Man". Suddenly, Scully thought this was no simple ‘Mulder’s gone off on a tangent’ investigation. They wanted to hide something. Who ever "they" might be. She was also convinced that the call Mulder had received at the airfield had been no wrong number. He had some questions to answer… Suspicion piqued, Scully held her breath and prayed the men outside would conclude the meeting and leave.

Momentarily, she heard footfalls leaving the hallway. Scully gave herself a good 20-second count before easing the supply closet door open. The hallway was empty. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and headed back out to the main room of the cafй, hands to wash forgotten.

9:45 am
Outside the Dйjа vu Art Museum,
Miami, Florida.

"Well Mulder?"

"Well what?" Mulder asked innocently.

"Mind at least telling me who we are waiting for?"

Mulder started nervously at his partner’s seeming clairvoyance, but covered it up quickly. "Waiting for someone? Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh please, Mulder don’t give me that! I’m not an idiot!" Scully’s red hair flashed gold highlights as she whirled on him. "All through dinner at the cafй, you were glancing around, looking for someone or something, and you insisted we come here even though we passed three cafй’s and a art museum before we arrived here. Plus, you were talking to someone on the cell phone before we came. And now here we are. Just standing here outside the museum. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together!"

"No, just a FBI agent, evidently."

"You still haven’t answered my question Mulder."

Mulder sighed. There were times a man just had to admit defeat. "I got a call at the airfield." He confessed. "Someone knows we’re here Scully, and knows what our plans are."

Scully sighed bitterly. "I should have known. Mulder, why didn’t you tell me?"

"Same reason you didn’t tell me you recognized someone at the airport?" Mulder parried.

That caught her. Scully winced. "Touchй. Okay, from now on we stop keeping secrets, and start acting like partners. Deal?" She stuck out a hand.

Mulder smiled. "Deal." His hand clasped around hers.

SCREEEEECH!!!!!!!!!!!!

"The car!" Scully yelled. Mulder whipped around to see their ’96 white rental tearing out of the parking lot. "Hey stop!" Mulder cried, bolting toward the car, Scully hot on his heels.

It was too late. The car pulled into the mainstream of traffic and was lost to sight.

"Great!" Mulder yelled, throwing down the jacket he held onto the hot blacktop in frustration. "Just great!"

Scully bent to retrieve the jacket with the calm air of someone who expected some such calamity to come of this meeting. She handed it back to Mulder and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, now what?"

"We…we…go back to the airfield." Mulder finished resignedly.

"Mulder, I have something I need to tell you." Scully looked at him. "Something about what I saw at the airport."

"You can tell me on the way." Mulder walked to the curb of the main street and raised a hand. "Taxi!"

10:10 am,
Sunny Daze Airfield,
Miami

"Oh, no." Scully squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from the gruesome sight.

It was Mulder who had found Carlos Coriga’s body. Upon returning to the airfield, the agents had been unable to locate the pilot. Scully had gone to search the main hanger until Mulder’s shouts had brought her sprinting across the open field.

Coriga had been stuffed into the baggage compartment of his own plane, with one fatal bullet wound to the chest. Mulder exhaled bitterly and ran a hand across his eyes. "I guess we’d better report this to the police…" He trailed off, turning and shielding his eyes from the blinding sun as he looked back toward the building. "Hey Scully," His hand landed on her arm. "Look."

Scully turned to see a tall man in a black suit striding purposefully toward them.

"Agent Mulder." The man spoke as soon as he neared them. Mulder immediately recognized the mysterious voice on the cell phone. "I have come to assist you."

"What do you mean?" Mulder asked. "Who are you?"

"I am no one of consequence. But my help can be invaluable." The man was tall and middle aged, with salt-and-pepper hair and a horrific scar across his throat. His voice, the same as that on the phone, was raspy and labored. "The police will be notified of his death." He nodded at the pilot's body. "But you must leave now, or you will never make it to the Triangle."

"And just how..." Scully began, but the man cut her off.

"Your car has been stolen." It was not a question. "You will need another to get to the rendezvous I have set up for you. When you arrive, my colleges will provide you with transportation to Bermuda." The man held out a set of keys and gestured to the parked car in the distance behind him. "There is little time."

"Wait a minute," Mulder objected. "How do we know we can trust you? We know nothing about you, who you work for, or why you are even offering to help us."

"I offer you help because I have reservations. I believe you and your partner are valuable."

"Valuable to *whom*?" Scully interrupted angrily.

The man ignored her. "There are those that do not share my reservations. Those who will do *anything* necessary to keep their secrets. Your lives are in grave danger."

"Take the car, Agent Mulder. Accept my help. It is the only help you will get."

Mulder stared at the man, at the keys, and back again. He started as though to take them and then stopped. He turned and pulled Scully around the plane. "Okay, what do we do?"

"Well, it seemed to me he felt it was your choice." Scully said crossly.

"No, it's *our* choice. I'm not going to force you into this." Mulder looked at her closely. "Do we go or not?"

"I don't trust him..." Scully didn't finish her sentence. She looked at Mulder, her blue eyes glinting. "I want to know what they're hiding, Mulder." She finished.

Mulder smiled. They turned back to the tall man. "We accept."

"Good." The man replied. "You will find directions to the rendezvous point in the car." He handed Mulder the keys. "And good luck,"

The tall man watched as the agents made their way across the open field and into the car. "Good luck, because you shall need it."

5:00pm
Highway 505, En Route to the Keys
Florida, USA

Fox Mulder drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of the blue Crown Victoria as the car coasted down the deserted highway. Beside him, Scully was staring out her window, hand supporting her chin, lost to the outside world. Mulder looked at her, wondering what was going on inside her head. He began to say something, then stopped. No, let the silence stay. Goodness knows they got precious little of it anyway.

**THUD**

"What was that?!?!" Scully looked around, startled and alert.

"I think it came from the trunk." Mulder's voice was tense as he slowed the car.

KA-THUMP. THUMP. **THUD**

Without warning, the backing of the seat popped foreword, exposing the trunk....and a man.

The man shot from the trunk with blinding speed, and jammed a 38-caliber pistol at Mulder's head before the Agent's had time to react.

"Keep driving!!" The man yelled. Scully gasped as she recognized the deep bass of the hit man that had spoken with the Cigarette Smoking Man.

Mulder gradually increased the speed. "Okay, whatever you say." He said calmly. "Just tell us what you want."

"Shut up!" the man yelled. "I want you to DRIVE!"

The car fell into a tense, deadly silence. The only noise was the hum of the car as it sped across the lonely highway.

"Turn here." The man said gruffly, breaking into the quiet.

"Where-" Mulder started. Then he saw the smaller road, leading off the highway. Carefully, he turned off the highway. The car made a dullish thud as it connected with the older, worn pavement of the smaller road.

Meanwhile, Scully tension was growing by the minute. They were miles away from civilization, and it didn’t look like people came this way often. Not to mention the car that the middle-aged man had given them was not licensed. If the hit man killed them out here, no one would ever know... They couldn’t afford to do what he wanted. He would kill them anyway.

But Mulder didn’t know that this man was Cancer Man’s hit man. She had to tell him.

Discreetly, Scully’s hand slid across the seat, and touched Mulder’s hip. With a barely perceptible turn of his head, he looked at her.

(It’s the hit man, Mulder.) She mouthed. She saw his eyes widen with understanding.

"Hey! What are you doing?" The hit man growled angrily, eyes turning on Scully, and, just for a moment, the gun was off Mulder.

Mulder reacted quickly. His foot went down hard on the gas. With a squeal of burning tires the car leapt forward. Scully felt herself pushed abruptly back into her seat, and the hit man flew backwards, hitting the seat hard. By the time he righted himself, swearing fiercely, the speedometer was topping 85 mph.

"Slow down!" The man yelled.

"No way!" Mulder yelled back.

90 mph.

In answer the man jammed the gun against Mulder’s head. "Do it!" He ordered.

"I don’t think you want to shoot me!" Mulder gritted.

95.

98.

"It would be a real messy crash, and unless you want to die too.." The hit man nervously glanced around at the lines of trees that now blurred into a green nothingness around them, and then back at the FBI agent.

100.

In a sudden move, the man slid to the other side of the car and forced the gun against Scully’s throat, yanking her head back by her hair.

"I said STOP!" He yelled. The muzzle of the gun dug sharply into the skin of Scully’s throat. She choked slightly, fear in her blue eyes.

Mulder glanced over at them, his face tense and fearful, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over his face.

"Stop now!" The man yelled. "Don’t think I won’t do it!"

"I believe you." Mulder told him.

Taking his foot off the gas, he carefully eased down on the break, slowing the car until it came to a complete stop.

"Stay still!" The hit man shouted at both of them, and let go of Scully’s hair to open the door. Quickly getting out, he turned to stand by Scully’s door, keeping the gun trained on her head.

"Get out." He ordered coldly. Scully glanced at Mulder. His eyes looked helplessly back at her. (Do it.) They said. Scully eased out of the car. The hit man roughly grabbed her collar and pushed her up against the car. "Put your hands above your head, interlocked. If your partner makes a move, you’re a dead woman.

Moving the gun away from Scully, he pointed it through the door at Mulder. "Get out." He ordered.

Scully saw her opening.

Moving with speed brought on by knowing her partners life counted on it, Scully whipped around, bringing her clasped hands from above her head, crashing down on the man’s hands.

The gun fired, its bullet harmlessly embedding it’s self into the ground, followed by the gun dropping from the man’s hand. Scully’s double fist then came up and smashed into the hit man’s face and knocked him back. She followed it up by a sharp sidekick to the man’s gut, ensuring his forthcoming crash to the ground. All this took place in the time it took for Mulder to get out of the car.

Just in time. Because in the next moment, the hit man lashed out at Scully, the flat of his palm striking the side of her knee. Scully let out a strangled yelp and dropped. The man was on top of her in a flash, prepared to bring a crushing blow to the throat.

**BANG!!**

The bullet missed the hit man by inches. He froze.

"I don’t have to miss." Mulder’s voice said coldly. "Don’t think I won’t do it."

"I believe you." The hit man said dully.

"Get off her." Mulder ordered.

The hit man did so. "Put your hands on the car, spread apart." Mulder ordered him. "You okay Scully?"

In the fraction of a second he took off the hit man, things suddenly went sour again. The man whirled on Mulder and knocked the gun from his hands with an almost inhuman speed. The gun skidded into the dirt road. The hit man dived for it, arriving there only a fraction of a second before Mulder.

The two grappled for control of the gun, the hit man wresting it away from Mulder. Mulder hit the man’s arm, knocking it wide, and flinging the gun off the road and into the brush on the side. The hit man reacted with a punch to Mulder’s jaw that sent him reeling. The man leapt to his feet and ran to the car, jumping in and jamming down on the gas.

With a squeal of breaks the car took off, making a sharp U-turn and narrowly missing Scully. She dodged out of the way, and then fell to the ground again. A cloud of dust filled the air as the car disappeared down the road.

"Scully!" Mulder ran over to her to help her up. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm.." She started to stand, then winced and half-collapsed, Mulder catching her. "My knee!" she gasped.

"Is it broken?" Mulder asked worriedly.

"I…I don’t think so," She answered, "I can walk Mulder."

Mulder’s eyes narrowed with concern, and he seemed reluctant to let go of her arm. Abruptly, Scully went stiff; her attention riveted on the road in the direction the hit man had taken. "Mulder."

Mulder stained to listen, and it only took a moment for him to identify the sound of an approaching vehicle.

"He’s coming back Mulder!" Scully cried, tugging on his jacket, trying to pull him off the road.

But Mulder stood, transfixed. "He wouldn’t dare." he whispered to himself. But sure enough, The blue Crown Victoria appeared around the bend, bearing down on the agents. A hand holding a large semi-automatic emerged from the diver’s side window.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"Scully run!" Mulder yelled, an arm swiftly circling her waist, supporting her as they plunged off the road and into the trees. The ground was soft and difficult to run on, but the agents did their bast as they fled the deadly hail of bullets that ripped through the trees around them.

Deeper and deeper into the forest they ran, not pausing for a moment until the only sounds they heard were their own footsteps and the crickets heralding the coming night.

Two hours later the dark had descended and the agents found themselves sloughing through knee-deep mud as the soft forest ground had given way to swampland an hour ago. Everywhere the same trees, everywhere mud and grasses.

Scully was not doing well. Her red hair hung in dull, damp clumps, her slow breath exhaling steam in the cold air. Her face was pale and pinched with the pain of her injured knee.

"We’ve got to find somewhere to stop." Mulder told her breathlessly. Scully nodded weakly.

A few moments later, Scully halted, stopping Mulder. "Look." She nodded her head to the left. "Over there."

Mulder looked, and through the dense shadows he saw the small opening to a low cave.

"Okay," he said, "looks good. Come on."

The agents made their way over to the cave entrance. Scully let go of Mulder’s arm and supported herself against the arch of the cave. Leaning her head down to get passed the low entry, she placed a foot inside the cave.

KKHHIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSS.

Scully froze. There was something very large already occupying the cave. Something very large and much too close for comfort.

"Scully what’s the matter?" Mulder’s impatient voice came from behind her.

"Mulder," Scully’s hoarse voice was slow and careful. "Do the words big, green, and scaly mean anything to you?"

"Yeah!" Mulder said. "Run!" He grabbed Scully, yanking her back, and spinning her away from the cave entrance and the path of the deadly alligator’s jaws. They both half-stumbled, then righted themselves, running as fast as the mud, dense foliage and injuries would let them.

Their path was wild and erratic, adrenaline coursing through their vanes as the sounds of movement and the angry hissing of the gator could still be heard through the mist. Not daring to turn around, they kept running. Twice Scully fell, crying out with the pain of her injured knee, and twice Mulder turned back, lifting her up and forced her to keep running. When finally no more sound came from behind them, they slowed, apprehensively turning to look back.

Nothing.

Once again the swamp was a empty, almost peaceful place.

They just stood there for a moment, panting and shivering, covered in mud.

"Mulder," Scully’s teeth were chattering. "I- I can’t run anymore. If I do, I may do permanent damage to the ligaments," Her hands shook violently as she tried to brush the mud of her face. She looked around at the endless swamp hopelessly. "We’re lost, and- and..." She stopped, unable to go on.

"I know." Mulder told her softly, shivering also. He reached out and pulled her close, letting her rest in his arms for a moment. He looked around them. Mist, mud and trees. Mist, mud and trees. Everywhere.

No wait ! Mulder blinked, and couldn’t believe what his own eyes told him he was seeing. Over to the right, not 20 paces away, the swamp ground hardened and the trees gave way to a clearing, an old, dilapidated shack standing in the middle of it.

"Scully.." He said, his voice full of wonder.

"What now?" She moaned.

"No, Scully. Look!"

She turned and looked. A shudder of relief coursed through her body.

"Thank God." She breathed.

"Finally." Mulder sighed, sitting back as he watched the small pile of sticks and leaves he had been attempting to light for the past 15 min catch fire, starting a tiny glow.

The flames quickly lit the rest of the pile in the small antiquated fire place, casting relative warmth on the two agents.

He looked across at Scully, who sat weakly with her arms wrapped around herself, still shivering, her short-sleeved shirt plastered to her body with the damp mud. Her light wind-breaker jacket had been lost somewhere in the swamp after getting snagged on a branch during their flight from the ‘gator.

Mulder pulled off his own jacket. "It’s wet, it’s muddy, but you probably need it more than I do." He said, handing it to her. She accepted gratefully, slipping into it and pulling the sleeves down to cover her hands. Mulder sat down again. Scully closed her eyes for a moment.

"Scully?"

She opened them. "Yes?"

"Scully, have you ever had any…regrets, real regrets, that you ever got involved in the X-files in the first place? Do you ever wish you could just go back to that first day and simply refuse to be my partner?" He looked down, forcing himself to go on. "I mean, sure it would have saved you a lot of grief."

Scully smiled slightly. "Well, it depends. Are we talking to the optimistic Scully or the pessimistic Scully?"

Mulder cracked a small grin. "Well I’d rather the optimistic Scully...but since they’re both Scully, I suppose I’ll have to ask them both."

"Well," Scully started, putting on her best "long drawn out explanation" voice. "If we’re talking about my job, Pessimistic Scully thinks it’s hopeless job and sometimes just not worth all she goes through for it, and she wonders what she ever did to deserve it. But on the other hand, Optimistic Scully thinks it’s the most challenging, addictive, intriguing job she could ever had, and she guesses it’s *lots* better than being just another doctor." She fell silent.

"And me?" Mulder prompted.

She gave him a small smile. "Pessimistic Scully thinks you’re the most bizarre, obsessed, and paranoid person she’s ever met, and what’s worse, you confuse her. However, Optimistic Scully thinks your passion for the truth is compelling, your quirks endearing, and you are the best friend she’s ever had."

"I like Optimistic Scully best."

Scully broke out in a grin. "I tend to prefer her myself, but I have yet to decided who’s more accurate."

"Oh," Mulder winced. "Scully that was cruel."

Her grin widened.

Both Agents fell into a peaceful silence, broken only by the sound of crickets and Mulder’s restless shifting on the rotting wood floor. Scully’s head began to nod, as exhaustion and pain took it’s toll, and she fell into a fitful sleep.

"Scully! Hey Scully! Wake up!"

Scully blinked, and opened her eyes against the blinding glare of sun through the broken window she lay under.

The door behind her opened with a loud clap, and Scully turned to see Mulder excitedly bound in. "Our way out Scully!" he said eagerly, "I found it!" He took her hands and lifted her to her feet, grinning. "Bermuda, here we come!"

"What on earth are you talking about Mulder?"

"You’ll see. Is your knee better?"

"I can walk without assistance if that’s what you mean." She told him with raised eyebrows.

"That’s what I mean." He answered, releasing one hand and leading her out the door with the other. "Come on."

Scully walked after Mulder, limping slightly over the uneven forest floor, wondering where they were going. [well at least we aren’t walking through swamp anymore] That had to be a good sign. She hoped. "Mulder, where are we going?"

"Just a minute."

"Mulder, I’ve had enough surprises. Would you please answer the question...."

"Well, here’s your answer." Abruptly, Mulder rounded a large clump of bush and trees and suddenly, where Scully had expected more trees to be, there was a road. True, it was a dirt road, but it *was* a road.

And roads lead somewhere.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, so it’s a road Mulder. That’s wonderful, I’m not complaining. But why the secrecy? I know you well enough to know that just the discovery of a road couldn’t get you *that* excited."

"True." Mulder admitted. "But watch this."

"Okay Jim, you can come out now!"

Scully was startled to hear the sound of a rusty truck engine, soon followed by the appearance of the rusty truck from a clearing in the trees. It pulled up to them, and a grizzled old man stepped out. He squinted at Scully and removed a limp felt hat. "So this is the lady friend you were telling me about?"

"FBI partner." Mulder corrected.

"Whatever." the man waved a hand. "Come on in git in the truck. We’ll take a look at that knee when we git back ta’ my place little lady."

Two hours later, Scully was sitting in a creaking antiquated rocking chair, wrapped in a moth-eaten quilt, sipping the most absolutely foul-tasting coffee she’d ever had, and finding herself enjoying it.

"So yew want ‘t git to Bermuda ay?" The old man, who called himself Jim, drawled.

Mulder, who sat at the table across from Jim, nodded.

"Weeeel, just so happens I c’n help you."

Scully perked up at this. [how on earth?]

"Yeah," Jim continued. "I gots a neighbor who own this waterplane. Old plane, sure, but she’s got it where it counts -or so my friend says-. That there plane’s his pride and joy. Anways, he’s low on money, and he’d be more’en ‘appy to take yas to Bermuda, fors a fee."

"How much?" Mulder asked, a bit nervous. They were running low on cash, now that their bags had been left behind, and though Mulder had his wallet. they couldn’t use credit cards until they got back to civilization. Total, they had about 60$.

"Ey, I dunno. Half ‘ta ask him."

They next day, Scully walked out of Jim’s house, fingers combing through her hair. The shower had felt *so* good. And it was wonderful to be in clean clothes again. She had been surprised to discover old Jim actually had a working washing machine.

She walked down the creaky steps of the porch and looked around, until she located Mulder a few yards away.

His back was turned to her, and he stared at the calm bay mouth that ran behind the house and led out to the ocean beyond. Scully walked up to him. "Hey," she said, tapping his shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

He glanced back at her, then looked back at the river. "I’m thinking, that thing can’t *possibly* get us to Bermuda."

Scully followed his gaze, and raised her eyebrows. There, at the small dock that stuck out into the bay, a small water craft floated. It was obviously old and worn, the faded blue stripe across it barely visible from dust and tarnish.

"Oh, boy." Scully said in a bland voice.

"Ready to go?" An unfamiliar voice asked from behind them. The agents turned to see Jim and a younger man walking toward them.

"Ready to go?" The other man repeated. "I’m Cole Caston." He offered his hand to Mulder. "So you’re the FBI Agent, huh?"

"That’s me." Mulder nodded, shaking the proffered hand. "This is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully." He said as they walked toward the waiting plane.

"Well, Cole said, "Hope you two don’t mind close quarters." He reached in the plane, and began adjusting knobs and such. "Only got one passenger seat." He hooked a thumb toward it.

Scully’s eyebrows raised fractionally. She opened her mouth to say something, then though better of it.

Mulder wordlessly scooped up the last of Cole Caston’s baggage and climbed into the passenger seat. Scully followed, settling awkwardly in front of Mulder, in the bare inches between him and the end of the seat.

Cole jumped in and started the plane, while Jim was waving and making calls of "Ya’ll come back now" over the roar of the engine.

As the plane sputtered to life and began pulling away from the dock, Agent Mulder was suddenly assaulted with the immediate problem of what to do with his arms. With Scully directly in front of him. there was not much available space for him to put them. But a sudden backward jerk from the plane solved his problem for him. Scully was thrown foreword, and without thinking, Mulder curled his arms around her to prevent her from crashing into the metal edge. Another sudden *forward* jerk, and they were both slammed *backward*, Mulder into the seatback and Scully into Mulder.

"Sorry ‘bout that!" Cole called from the cockpit. "Won’t happen again!"

Mulder and Scully sighed, and rolled their eyes in perfect tandem.

About three and a half hours later, Cole announced to his passenger seat that they were approaching Bermuda.

Mulder blinked his eyes, walking himself from the half-sleep that he found himself in. He glanced down at Scully, still asleep, her head leaning against his chest, lips parted in shallow breathing.

He smiled.

"Hey Scully." He whispered near her ear. She shifted slightly, blinking drowsily, then inhaled sharply, coming awake all at once.

"Hey, hey, calm down." He told her.

She breathed deeply, and rubbed her eyes. "It’s a bit of a shock waking up in a water plane, that’s all." Her voice was slurred by sleep.

"Comin’ in for a landing!" Cole bellowed out cheerfully.

"Well, we’re almost there." Mulder said, raised his eyebrows. "I wonder what happens now?"

Scully let out a tired sigh.

7:30 P.M.
The Bayou Motel
Room 8
Somerset, Bermuda

"You know," Mulder remarked. "There’s something terribly *backward* about eating Chinese take-out on a Caribbean Island."

Mulder and Scully sat at the motel room table, a few scattered little red-and-white buckets around them. Scully was attempting to open a package of chopsticks, and Mulder, -who had taken the shorter route and used a fork- was already poking around the contents of one box.

He looked over at her and cocked a eyebrow. "You know?" He sniffed the contents of his box dubiously. "Besides, something tells me Mr. Lee hasn’t used his wok in a while."

Scully sighed with exasperation and slapped down the unyielding chopsticks package. "Okay, so what do *you* suggest we eat?"

"I thought you’d never ask."

2 hours later, Scully was in the bathroom fastening the last clip on the back of a new dress. Turns out, Mulder had discovered that the motel they were staying at had a open-air resturant\cantina. It also turned out that the restaurant had a dress-code, but luckily, the motel *also* had a small clothes shop.

Therefore, Scully had simply done her necessary shopping early, and had purchased the clingy wine-colored dress she was now wearing. Quickly raking her fingers through her hair one last time, she double-checked the mirror, before heading out the door.

Mulder blinked and stood up when she entered. His eyebrows raised just perceptibly. "Knockout, Scully." He grinned derisively. "I see I’m gonna have to watch you at this place, you may start a fight."

"Yeah, sure Mulder." She said gruffly, to cover her embarrassment and pleasure at his approval. "I’m only going to get dinner."

9:30 P.M..
Elsewhere.

In a small outpost not far away, two men stood in rigid military uniforms. One had graying hair and a frowning expression, the other much younger, with a brash, impetuous face that betrayed his youth.

"Has the next shipment arrived yet?" The older man growled.

"Yes sir." The younger man stated with confidence. "3 new prototypes."

"And how is the first shipments development?"

"Excellent Sir." The young man smiled wolfishly, displaying rows of perfectly white teeth. "If development continues at this pace, we should have the first 100 complete in a week. That’s if there are no more casualties."

The old man grunted. "Yes, those were most unfortunate. Our work was too long delayed by such things. But no more. Now that we have isolated the gene flaw, there will be nothing to hinder out mission. We have approval. We need nothing else."

Bayou Motel's "La Planta Baja" Cantina
8:00 P.M.

Scully sat at the restaurant table, quietly sipping the last of her Pina Colada. She had to admit, it was a good idea of Mulder’s to come to this place. Finally in a good mood for the first time in a week, she felt herself relaxing, enjoying the way the drink slid down her throat, and tapping her feet in time to the catchy Caribbean music.

"Senorita?"

Scully looked up suddenly in to the handsome brown eyes of a young Hispanic man who was smiling down at her.

"Yes?"

"I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone." He said in a warm voice tinged with a Spanish accent. "I thought maybe you would like some company?" He sounded hopeful.

Scully smiled, a little sadly. "Maybe another time...what did you say your name was?" "Andreas. Andreas Corteszon."

"Thank you, Andreas."

He returned her smile, then reluctantly left the table.

Scully let her gaze drift across the room and caught sight of Mulder walking towards her from the bar where he had been questioning patrons, trying to dig up possible information on Agent Caitren and her brother.

From the look on his face, it hadn’t gone well.

"No good?" She asked sympathetically when he reached her. He shook his head.

"That’s okay. We just got here. We haven’t even check the hotel they stayed at yet." She reached out to squeeze his hand. "We didn’t really expect to get anything here anyway."

He nodded, a little less tiredly this time. "I just need to get my mind off this for a few minutes, so I can regroup that’s all." His eyes strayed toward the band and the dance floor. His hand tightened on hers. "Hey Scully, you..." His eyes turned back to her, sparking with mischief. "You wouldn’t want to *dance* would you?"

Scully blinked in surprise. "I- I- sure." She answered, rising to her feet.

Mulder led her across the floor and out into the middle of the crowd of dancing couples. Scully’s first few steps were tentative, but the music was infectious and Mulder turned out to be a surprisingly good dancer. Soon, Scully completely disconnected herself from reality, and simply *enjoyed* her self. She was surprised at how good it felt. She felt the skirt of her dress swirl around her as she spun, and the particularly pleasant feel of Mulder’s hand holding hers, and resting on her waist.

After a few songs of fast-paced up-tempo, the mood of the music suddenly changed. It slowed, and shifted tone from up-beat to dreamy. Mulder pulled Scully closer, and she found herself willingly melting into his arms.

Moments passed as they moved together, swaying with the beat of the music. Scully’s heart was pounding. She felt a bit dizzy and slightly light headed, but didn't want to stop. It more than just dancing, it was like communication...saying things that they couldn't give voice to.

"Uh, excuse me." The young man who had spoken to Scully earlier tapped Mulder’s shoulder. Mulder turned.

"May I cut in?" The young man asked in a low Spanish accent.

Caught, Mulder nodded, and almost reluctantly let go of Scully and moved back. Scully pulled in a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as Mulder moved away and Andreas took her hand.

"You dance well," Andreas told her. Scully nodded absently, watching Mulder’s retreating back as her walked back towards the bar.

Andreas followed her eyes. "Or perhaps it was just the partner." Andreas said in a disappointed voice.

Scully shook herself, and brought her attention back to Andreas. "I’m sorry."

The young Bermudan shook his head, "No, it’s alright. I may have known so beautiful a woman would not be unspoken for."

"Oh, no, I’m not....I mean, Mulder and I aren’t...." Scully said quickly, furious at her self for blushing scarlet again. "We’re just partners." She finished feebly.

Andreas simply raised his eyebrows.

They danced for a few moment in silence.

"Scully!"

Mulder was walking toward them quickly. "Scully, I found someone who can help us." He took her hand as Andreas moved back, "Sorry, you’ll have to excuse us," He said to Andreas in a hurried tone that implied he wasn’t *really* all that sorry at all. The young man nodded.

"Thank you Ms. Scully." Andreas told her simply. "I hope we may meet again someday." His voice betraying what he thought the chance of that was.

Scully nodded at him, "Goodbye." She said as she followed Mulder off the dance floor.

"So what did you find?" Scully asked a few seconds later as they approached the bar.

"I found the man who sold the tickets for the cruise boat that Caitren took. The one that disappeared." Mulder told her with a sideways glance at her. He pulled up suddenly as they reached the bar.

"Scully, meet Houran Dolbas."

A sad looking man in his thirties turned from the bar and faced them. "Houran," Mulder said to him. "This is my partner, Dana Scully."

Dolbas eyed her sullenly. Then, "La chica is no FBI."

Mulder snorted, and raised his eyebrows, "You wouldn’t say that if "la chica" had ever arrested you."

Dolbas looked back at Scully, who was now glowering at him with her arms crossed. Dolbas glared back, unwilling to change his attitude. Mulder glanced back and forth between them. It was evident there would never be any love-lost between these two. Well, he didn’t care, as long as Dolbas gave them the information the needed, and was at least passably respectful to Scully.

Mulder cleared his throat. "You were going to tell us about the cruise last week?" He prompted.

Dolbas turned back to him. "Yes. Buy I am no good at telling stories when my throat is dry." He indicated his empty beer glass meaningfully.

Mulder sighed, and motioned to the bartender. When the bartender had filled his glass, Dolbas cleared his throat. "Yes, I remember the young woman and her brother......"

10:00 am, The Next Day
Bilar Dock
Bermuda

Fox Mulder stood on the dock, staring past the small tour ship and out into the ocean beyond. He and Scully would be heading out on that ocean soon.

Through Dolbas they had obtained the name of the tour agency that Agent Caitren and her brother had taken, as well as other information about the Caitren’s stay. Then, Mulder had bought 2 tickets on a boat from the same agency that would take them on the same route across the Triangle that Agent Caitren had.

As he looked out at the peaceful, glittering blue horizon, he wondered what could possibly have happened to the missing agent. Normally, he would have assumed abduction, following the rumors of alien interference in the Triangle. But this case had none of the common signs of abduction. Meaning it had to be something else.

What dangers lay ahead in those cerulean waters?

"Mulder!"

Broken from his reverie, Mulder turned back to see Scully standing by the boarding ramp of the cruise boat.

"Captain’s ready to shove off soon." She smiled, sounding every bit the navy child she was. "He says to tell you that he has other passengers too." Her half-smile broken into a full-fledged honest-to-goodness ScullyGrin. "He says he can’t wait all day for the dreamer."

Mulder shook his head ruefully as he joined her walking up the ramp. "Why is that always the impression I seem to give people?"

"I wouldn’t know, Mulder." Scully answered with a perfect poker face, but he could see her eyes dancing. "I wouldn’t know."

10:00 am
Elsewhere
Bermuda

The room smelled of salt and antibiotics, the air strangely humid for the inside of a building. Captain Pacy Marshall walked through the middle of the room, the mist catching in his blond hair.

His hand touched a panel on the side of one of the long, cylinder containers that populated the room.

The frozen mist over the glass window in the cylinder suddenly cleared, revealing what lay within. Marshall’s lips parted to reveal his perfect teeth. [Good] He thought [Good]

He moved on to the next one. This one too, was almost ready. He felt a delicious chill course through him. It was being accomplished. What so many refused to believe was possible, and they were doing it! He felt a growing feeling of giddiness, accompanied by a wonderful sensation of vengeance. Those that laughed at him would never do so again.

Once the project reached completion, *no one* would ever laugh at the name Pacy Marshall again.

No one.

1:00 P.M.
Aboard "La Chaquita"
Bermuda Triangle

The sound of tinkling glass mixed in with soft background music and chatter. Dana Scully wandered farther away from the lounge room of the little cruise boat, and out onto the deck. She stopped at the edge, leaned against the rail, listening to the muted slap of the water against the boats edge.

She gazed out into the crimson water that had been lit by the sunset, and let her mind drift.

Mulder walked out on to the deck, and glanced around until he noticed her. He stood there for a moment, watching her, a tiny darkened silhouette, red hair set ablaze in the glare of the sun. She was lost in thought, that much he could tell. Mulder approached silently, coming up close to her shoulder and surprising her as he had so many times before.

And, as always, she smoothly covered up her surprise.

"Hey Scully."

"Yes, Mulder?" She turned to him gracefully.

"Nothing." He responded, leaning against the rail next to her. A silence stretched between them.

Scully shifted from leaning on her elbows to straightening her arms and gripped the ship’s rail tightly. The quiet slapping of the waves grew louder in the silence.

Scully thought she felt a slight shiver run up her arms. That was strange. She wasn’t cold. The vibration grew stronger. The rail was shaking.

"Scully?" Mulder’s voice was a mixture of question and warning. Now the floor was trembling too. They moved away from the rail. The vibration was getting worse. From somewhere, with in the lounge, a glass shattered. The music stopped. People streamed out onto the deck.

Mulder reached out to grab Scully’s hand. The shaking was violent now, people was screaming, and loud crashing sounds came from inside.

Mulder looked around wildly. "Scully! We’ve got to get off the ship!"

Scully was startled, but followed him in grabbing a life vest and pulling in on. Chaos had broken out around her, and she had to trust her partners instincts.

At that moment, there was a terrific screech of grinding metal.

"Scully! Jump!" Mulder yelled. The two agents plunged over the side of the boat and into to the chilly water.

Scully hit the water with a splash that took her breath away. Even in the Caribbean, December waters were *cold*.

"Scully!! Swim away from the boat!" Mulder yelled through a mouthful of seawater. "Hurry!"

Scully glanced back at the cruise boat, and saw the reason for her partners cry. The water surrounding the boat had begun to bubble, as though something *very* large were coming up beneath it. Scully awkwardly turned to kick away from the strange pull of water pressure that seemed to want to drag her back to the boat. She glanced around and gasped.

Two enormous metal *spoons* -Scully didn’t know what else to call them- were rising out of the water, and slowly closing OVER the cruise boat. The sound of grinding metal was deafening. The two metal thing seemed to be connected to a large submarine or something under the surface of the water. They had nearly closed completely over the ship. Frantic passengers jumping over the side were only trapped as the metal closed together with a booming clap.

With another rumbling shudder, the two closed *spoons* began to bury themselves beneath the waves again. The pull of the water grew stronger as the metal submarine disappeared beneath the cold waves.

Scully felt herself being pulled towards the undertow. She could feel that she was just on the edge of the undertow’s radius, bit she just couldn’t seem to pull herself foreword, out of it’s influence.

Suddenly, she felt Mulder’s hand grab her flailing arm, pulling her the last few feet away from the tow.

They watched as the last tip of metal disappeared from sight, and the submarine vanished as though it had never been.

The two agents floated in the water, panting and shivering as silence descended upon the ocean.

2 HOURS LATER.............

Scully lifted her head and looked at him wearily. "Mulder....where do you come up with these questions?"

He looked back at her, managing a small smile, and gripped her arms tighter as a wave caused them to bob in the otherwise still water.

Scully sighed bitterly, the cold of the water and the hopelessness of the situation smothering her spirits like a heavy blanket. The sun had set over the blue horizon. and in it’s place had come a oppressive, chilled fog.

Scully pulled herself closer to Mulder, laying her head on his shoulder, exhausted. Mulder’s arms encircled her, drawing her in as he rested his head on her shoulder as well.

Moments passed in silence, then Scully heard Mulder begin to humm. She recognized the tune they had danced to at the cantina. She pulled back, giving him a quizzical "excuse me?" look.

He looked back at her evenly, the childlike teasing twinkle undiminished even by the prospect of a slow and watery death, the unflappable irreverence he held for everything including danger. *Especially* danger.

And strangely, it cheered her. There was something about him that made her believe that everything would be okay. As long as he was there. In the next few moments, Scully re-lived the years she had spent with him. All the cases and hopeless situations, all the fear, all the friendship, all the trust. Through it all, Scully couldn’t think of a single time he hadn’t been there when she needed him, hadn’t held her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. They always seemed to make it through, no matter what darkness the world threw at them.

Suddenly, the fog that surrounded them seemed a little less defeating, and a little less cold.

A little more noisy.

Confusion clouded Scully’s inward thoughts.

"What’s that noise?" Mulder asked, looking around. A low humming noise came from the left approaching them,

"I don’t kn-" Scully broke off suddenly, as a bright light cut across her vision. The agents turned toward it, watching in shock as a jet-black speedboat materialized from the dense fog.

The speedboats searchlight played over them again, causing them to blink, and shield their eyes. The speedboat pulled up next to them as two men appeared over the side.

"Hey!" Mulder called to them. "Where did you guys come from?"

The men said nothing. Their faces expressionless as they reached down and grabbed Scully by the collar of her lifejacket, pulling her into the boat. Next they took hold of Mulder and helped him in also.

"Hey, we’re really glad you two showed up," Mulder started, attempting to illicit a response from their stoic rescuers. "If you..." He stopped abruptly when he saw the man pull a revolver from his jacket. Mulder tensed, but didn’t have time to react before a blow from the butt of the revolver thudded against his skull, and enforced darkness fell over his vision.

LATER.............

But then the previous events flooded back to her memory and she gasped, filling her lungs with fresh oxygen and opening her eyes to her surroundings. The first sight that met her weary eyes was a cold white floor. She sluggishly turned her head and saw Mulder lying next to her, breathing evenly, but obviously still unconscious.

Lifting her arm, Scully reached out to shake Mulder's shoulder, attempting to rouse him.

When he didn't respond, Scully attempted to sit up and take a look at their surroundings. With the movement, her head stopped pounding...but a wave of nausea swept over her. Scully shut her eyes momentarily, riding it out, and almost envied Mulder in his blissfully unconscious state.

As if on cue, Mulder groaned and his eyelids flitted open. Immediately, Scully was at his side, supporting his shoulders as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Waa.." Mulder slurred. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." Scully responded. "Are you okay?"

"M' fine." He mumbled, rubbing the fuzziness out of his eyes. Mulder straightened, climbing to his feet slowly, Scully supporting him.

"I was just wondering when you two would wake up."

Startled to say the least, Mulder and Scully whirled around to face a young woman -previously unnoticed- who was sitting nonchalantly in a corner, her arms draped around her legs as she hugged them to herself. Her clothes were a bit devilish, khaki pants ripped and white tee and overshirt stained. But by far the most shocking thing was her face; young and fresh looking, with green eyes and honey-colored hair that was pulled back in a ponytail.

It was Special Agent Alyssa Caitren.

"Are you just going to gawk at me, or are you going to introduce yourselves?" The young woman climbed to her feet and proffered a slim hand. "Alyssa Caitren, USA." When neither Mulder or Scully responded for a moment, the woman's forehead wrinkled worriedly for a moment. "You do speak English don't you?" She paused for a moment. "Parles'vous francias?"

"No, no English." Scully said suddenly, breaking out of her reverie.

"Ah, good." Alyssa smiled. "My French is lousy."

Scully reached out and took Alyssa's hand. "You'll have to excuse my partner and I, we're just very surprised to suddenly find you like this."

"Me? I would think you would be surprised to even - Wait. Did you say partner?"

Mulder nodded. "Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully."

It was Alyssa's turn for a jaw drop. The young agents eyes went wide with shock and then excitement. "Oh my gosh, Agent Mulder!" Her eyes shone and sparkled with her enthusiasm as she lept forward to give him a vigorous handshake. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to meet you. I'm just sorry we had to meet here."

"You wanted to meet me?" Mulder asked in confusion. "Why?"

"Well," The young woman reached up to smooth back her hair nervously. "You're kind of my idol at the Bureau."

"Are you interested in profiling?" Scully asked, assuming the Mulder's work in the criminal psyche unit was what had made this young woman such a fan of Mulder's.

"Not really, although you did great work there." Alyssa said, briefing glancing at Scully before turning back to Mulder. "It's actually the X-Files I'm interested in."

"Really?" Mulder was a little astonished. The Files were, for the most part, extremely ridiculed in the Bureau mainstream, and he along with it.

Alyssa nodded. "Yeah. But that's another story for another time. Were you two looking for me?"

"Yes." Scully told her. "Agent Mulder received a transmission tipping him off to your possible whereabouts and the fact that you had most likely been the victim of something out of the ordinary. As did your partner."

"Garrett." A relieved, affectionate quality edged into Agent Caitren's voice when she said her partner's name. "Good old Corban. I might have known he would send you two after me." Suddenly a shadow crossed her face as she realized something. "Oh - He didn't come with you did he?"

"No," Mulder said quickly. "He was assigned a dodger profile and was forbidden to try and look for you."

Alyssa looked as though she had suspected as much. "Figures. Rat bastards. Well, I'm glad he's not in danger."

The young woman stood silent for a moment, then her face suddenly cleared and brightened again. "You two are probably wondering just where-on-God's-Earth you are."

"Yes, actually. We were." Scully said.

Alyssa gave a cocky sarcastic smile. "Welcome to the Detention Block of the NGACC's first SubMarine facility."

"SubMarine?" Scully asked.

"Who are NGACC?" Mulder rejoined.

Alyssa laughed slightly. "Whoa. One at a time. Yes, Agent Scully, you heard me right. SUB-Marine. As in Under-The-Sea. From what I've been able to figure out we are inside a underwater superstructure at the bottom on the Bermuda Triangle. The structure stretches over a area of nearly 2 miles." She stopped, and turned to Mulder. "In answer to your question, NGACC stands for Non-Governmental Advanced Cloning Corporation. Yeah, that's right. Clones. The work their doing here in at least 50 years down the road of the most cutting edge ligit group out there."

Alyssa took a deep breath. "And, as you might have guessed, they are abducting civilian tourists to procure the necessary genetic material." She grimaced. "They don't exactly get many volunteers for this you know."

The young woman stopped, allowing all the information to sink in to the two agents.

"Wait a moment," Scully said suddenly, her voice tinged with suspicion. "How do you know all of this, if you are being held captive here, anyway?"

"I'm not one of *them* if that's what you're suggesting Agent Scully." Alyssa told her, a bit of steel entering her voice. "If you did your homework, you'll already know I can here with my brother. Well, it turns out that NGACC's little submarine subsidiary here is having computer problems. They're holding my brother hostage as insurance for my help. Between my trips to the computer main and necessary info they've had to supply me with, I've been able to discover quite a few things about their little racket here."

"If they're as advanced as you say they are, why would they need you help?" Scully queried, still suspicious.

"Oh, sure, they're light-years ahead in genetics, but when it come to simple hardware, they're about as bone-headed as they come." Alyssa retorted. "The incompetent tech staff here can't solve the problem, and somehow they found out that I used to work in programming before I entered the military. I spent my teenage years in Silicon Valley, rubbing elbows with Gates and the others of the Dream Team. I may have decided not to make a career out of it, but I still keep up with the technology. I'm certainly more competent than those bozos they call informational managers."

Alyssa stopped, sighing heavily. "So they've got Jered in a cell down the hall. I'm allowed to see him once a day, but not to speak to him. They're too afraid that we'll get sneaky and figure out a escape if they leave us together." She paused and cocked her head. "In fact, that's what's making me wonder why they threw you two in here with me."

"Does seem kinda stupid on their part," Mulder mused. "Since they know you are privy to sensitive information, -things they certainly wouldn't want *US* to know, I can only assume they plan to kill us."

Scully turned a shocked face to her partner at his calm declaration.

Alyssa nodded. "That's what I figured as well. But not until they find out if you can be of use to them. You are specially trained after all. If they can use you as a resource, they will." She took a deep breath. "The others - the civilians that were on the ship- are the ones they'll take the DNA information from. None of them will remember anything, because as soon as the ship is brought under the water, the passengers are exposed to a series of supersonic audio that affect the brain- effectively erasing long term memory and rendering the victim unconscious."

"They keep them on anesthesia until they're done taking blood and DNA samples, they replace them back on the ship and return them up top no one the wiser. It's actually a very slick program." Alyssa looked at them curiously. "Since you two are here and not with the others, I assume you weren't exposed to the supersonic."

"Nope. We were already in the water." Mulder said, a bit sheepish.

Alyssa raised her eyebrows. She looked at Scully with amused grin. "Lucky thing for you, your partner overreacts." She turned away. "Or unlucky, considering."

Scully sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"Sit here and wait?" Mulder offered.

"Don't worry too much, Agents." Alyssa told them with a cryptic smile. "They may be watching our cell like a hawk, but my brother's cell is fairly low security." She raised her eyebrows. "And he may not be in law enforcement, but Jered's no shrinking violet."

Approximately 4 Hours Later.....

"If you could make one wish, and have it granted -right now- what would it be?" Alyssa Caitren sat slumped in the corner, one long leg up, the other stretched out in front of her in a bored manner.

"Anything?" Mulder asked, relived for something -no matter how inane- to break the underlying tension in the room.

"Well..." Alyssa mused, "It has to be something that you would want granted *right now*, here. It can't be anything like "I wish I were back home"."

"Okay," Mulder said. "I wish I was suddenly gifted with the answers to my most important questions. What about you?"

Alyssa laughed. "Well, I meant for my stipulation to out-rule that sort of wish- but I guess you're too experienced at getting around the rules, Agent Mulder."

Alyssa pursed her lips in musing for a moment. "While I have a lot of questions I'd certainly like answered, I don't think I'd wish for sudden illumination. I find much value in the process of enlightenment. Perhaps more than the enlightenment itself." A huge grin stole it's way across her face. "Actually, I was wishing for an ice-cold Sprite."

"That's your nickname isn't it?" Mulder asked. "I think I understand why know."

Alyssa chuckled. "Has Garrett been shooting off his mouth again? Yeah, for better or worse, that's my nickname. I have to admit, I am hopelessly addicted to the stuff. Which is funny, considering it's suppose to be the more non-addictive of sodas. You know, the UN-cola and all."

Mulder smirked. "So what about you Scully?" He said, turning to face Scully who sat leaning against the wall next to him.

"Me?" Scully asked, a bit surprised. Up till now, she had remained silent, not entering the sporadic conversations between Mulder and Agent Caitren. She exhaled slowly, considering the question with the characteristic intensity she gave nearly everything. "If I had one wish to use right now....-barring wishes for magically getting out of here-......I'd wish that someone *else* would come get us out of here."

In the bare heartbeats after Scully had spoken, a unexpected high-pitched whistling emanated from the doorway of the cell, sending all three occupants vaulting to their feet. The door gave a shudder and a pop, and then suddenly swung open.

Alyssa gave a tiny whoop and then vaulted foreword...

...straight into the awaiting arms of her brother, Jered.

"It’s about time you got here!" Alyssa said chastisingly, as Mulder and Scully looked on with slackened jaws. "I was beginning to think you’d never realize your door was unlocked!"

"I almost didn’t!" Jered confessed. Alyssa’s brother was younger than she by a few years, about 24, tall and handsome with streaked blonde hair, blue-green eyes and a muscular structure. His casual clothes were as unkempt and in need of a wash as Alyssa’s, but neither siblings seemed to care.

Jered looked over his sister’s shoulder and noted Mulder and Scully in some surprise, but did not comment. "Come on," He said urgently, clasping his sister’s hand. "The halls are empty for now, it’s late so most of the guards will be in their bunkers, but there’s no telling when someone might come by. We don’t have much time for whatever you were planning Sis."

"Don’t worry, we won’t need much." Alyssa said, as the four hurried out into the empty hallway. "The computer room’s not far, and it should be empty."

"And if it’s not?" Scully suddenly challenged from behind her.

"Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?"

True to Alyssa’s prediction, the computer room *WAS* empty. The moment they arrived, Mulder, Jered and Scully immediately began grabbing whatever pieces of furniture that were not bolted down and slamming them against the door as a barricade, as Alyssa lit into on of the nearby consoles, erasing and rerouting security cameras, changing lock codes and generally locking down the place like a military bunker.

Which is what it was fast becoming.

After a tense five minutes of securing their position, the four escapees turned to their guide.

"What the heck just happened?" Scully exclaimed, flushed and gasping.

"Uh, out of curiosity, why the computer room, sis?" Jered asked.

"Didn’t we just trap ourselves even more?" Mulder queried, looking at the blockaded door.

"Wow. So much for "Hey, thanks for getting out of there Alyssa!"" Alyssa said sarcastically.

"Don’t get us wrong, Agent Caitren, we’re grateful for what you’ve done..." Scully said. "We’re just not quite sure *what* you’ve done, or what you think you’re doing."

Alyssa sighed. "Okay. First of all, this is the computer room that they take me to every day. So it’s the one place in this entire structure I’m really familiar with. So it makes sense to go here. I have no real idea of how to get to the exit yet, and besides, it’s sure to be full of guards."

"Secondly, awhile ago I was able to access the controls for the cells. Mine was too well guarded, I couldn’t crack it. But Jered’s," She gestured to her brother. "was easy. I simply unlocked it early this morning -after the guard who brings him his breakfast left- and waited for Jered to figure it out." She gave her brother a blinding smile. "Which he did- and managed to find where they were keeping me as well. Brilliant kid."

"Well, that’s wonderful Alyssa," Mulder told her. "But I’m with Scully. What exactly is your plan *now*?"

"Well," Alyssa said, moving over to one of the central panels and sitting in one plush leather chair that hadn’t been used to block the door. "Unknown to *them*, I’ve actually fixed their problem a few days ago, but disguised it well enough that they still wouldn’t be able to use most of the components properly. I have the solution code buried inside their very own internal system, where I can access it whenever I want." She cracked her knuckles and placed her hands on the keyboard. "Like now."

With a whir, the computer panels in the room suddenly sprung to life, emitting soft beeps and blinking lights as sign of their activity.

Alyssa grinned and rubbed her hands eagerly. "Ah. Now here’s where it gets interesting."

Mulder, Scully and Jered all drew closer to Alyssa computer screen in order to watch the rapid activity playing out on it.

"It’s amazing really how intricate this system is," Alyssa commented eagerly, skimming through files and closing and opening programs at a alarming rate. "It’s ten-times more sophisticated than anything we have at home. Luckily, it has a format similar to an old program Gates was working on while I knew him, so it was easy enough to figure out..." She shrugged. "Probably exactly why their *experts* couldn’t make heads or tails of it." Alyssa paused for a moment and cocked her head in thought. "Speaking of which, I wonder who their manufacturer is anyway."

"We don’t have time for you to wonder, Alyssa!" Jered egged her. "Whatever you’re going to do, HURRY! You know we don’t have forever until someone finds out where we are."

"Right, right, right." Alyssa bent over the computer. "Okay, so here’s the plan. First, I pull up a map of this place, and try to work up a plausible route for us to take in getting out of this place. Then, I try to distract most of the guards and personnel by setting off alarms in various areas *away* from our section." Alyssa continued to work feverishly, a thin sheen of sweat developing on her forehead as she broke into program after program and pounded out code after code.

"Then what?" Scully asked.

"Then we run like....Hel-lo! What’s this?!?" Alyssa suddenly froze, staring at a small flashing light at the bottom of the screen.

"What is it?" Mulder asked, leaning forward.

"Looks like a alert." Alyssa said, clicking the icon to bring up the program.

"Alert?!" Scully said in alarm.

"No, not alerted to us." Alyssa said. "It’s something outside the base." Her eyes narrowed as a series of numbers and coordinates came up, along with a detailed diagram of what appeared to be a landscape and a bunker, with small flashing lights pinpointing moving objects around it.

Alyssa nearly lept out of her chair in excitement. "That must be the entrance!" She exclaimed, pointing to the bunker-like object on the screen. "I knew there had to be a entrance land-side on the island. I just never could get a detailed enough schematic to find it!" She shivered. "This must be a alert for activity outside their concealed entrance! And boy *is* there a lot of activity!"

The four crouched over the computer screen as the small dots of light warning of possible invaders continued to circle the area surrounded in the secret bunker. None of the dots came close to discovering the hidden entrance however.

"Darn, they have that thing hidden well!" Jered exclaimed. "There must be a whole army prowling around out there!"

"The only question is whose army?" Alyssa said grimly, watching as one of the figures came very close to where the entrance was hidden, but then began to turn away. "Ah!" Alyssa pounded a first down on the table. "They almost had it! If only there were some way we could contact whoever that is."

Almost as if in response to Alyssa words, a beep emanated from the computer, followed by a pop-up screen, with a series of numbers on it.

----- 1 - 349 - 555 - 8990 -----
------ Research number? -------

"What the- that's not what I think it is, is it?" Jered asked.

"Cell phone tracking?" Mulder suggested.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who get wishes granted, Agent." Scully said with some amusement.

Agent Caitren had suddenly gone very still. Then, without warning she gave a loud whoop and vaulted from her chair. "It’s Jacob! I don’t believe it!"

"Who?" Scully asked.

"*JACOB*??" Jered said incredulously.

"Not the CIA agent?" Mulder inquired.

"YES! Oh thank GOD!" Alyssa impulsively reached out and kissed the computer screen. "Now, if I can figured out how to access the cell number through the computers central systems....."

"I don’t believe this."

The Bermudan Countryside,
2 Miles out of Somerset,
Near the Coast

Agent Jacob Grant, CIA, stood in the middle of the patch of grass, looking forlornly at the tropical paradise around him. "Yes, sir." He said into the cell phone he held in his hand. "Yes, I understand, sir. No, I wouldn't want us to cause a incident here. Of course. Goodbye."

He hit the "end" button on his cell with a vicious stab, cursing under his breath. He looked up at the jungle-like area around him again. (Oh Lyssa...where are you?)

Jacob Grant was a 32 year old CIA agent, one of the "best and the brightest". He had curried favors all over the place in his 9 year stint with the CIA, and he seemed to, in the course of one week, run them *all* out looking for Alyssa.

The Bermudan government didn't want him there.

The CIA didn't want them there.

And most of all, whoever was behind Alyssa's kidnapping didn't want them there.

But somehow, despite the resistance, he had managed to put together a impressive CIA Raid/SWAT/search-and-rescue team, and flew them all out to Bermuda.

His superiors had thought him crazy, but had decided to indulge him, because he was their golden boy. Jacob had told them only that he needed favors and he needed them *fast*.

What he hadn't told them was about the strange informant that had showed up at his door one night, with dire warnings about Alyssa, and chilling information about her possible whereabouts.

(A secret lab? Could it really be true?)

Jacob felt a regretful twinge about not telling Garrett Corban, Alyssa's partner, about the strange informant who had approached him a week ago -he needed all the help he could get right now- but he was still burning with resentment towards the other man. After all, Corban hadn't told *him* about the transcript he'd received. Why should Jacob tell Grant about his informant?

But it looked as though all were going to turn out a loss anyway. The CIA had officially removed it's support from his little search out here, and he had been summarily told to pack it up and head home. Unless a miracle occurred, they were not going to find Alyssa.

Jacob hung his head despondently, his mind crying out for Alyssa silently. (why now?) He thought to himself. (Why her?)

Jacob Grant did not believe in miracles.

The next few moments changed his mind.

A terrific screeching interrupted his thoughts. He head snapped up, just in time to the perfectly natural-looking foliage growing on the rock next to him strip away, moving backward, and revealing gears and metallic parts. The rock groaned again, and moved apart, revealing the mouth of a yawning cavern, and a glistening white tunnel leading away into the earth.

Jacob stood there for a full ten seconds with his mouth hanging open.

*****BBRRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG*******

The sound of his cell ripped him out of his total shock. "Ah...hello?" He fumbled with the receiver.

"Jake?" Alyssa excited and trembling voice was like a slap to the face and a breath of fresh air.

"ALYSSA!?!?"

"Hey, boy are you glad to hear me." Alyssa's smile could be heard through the phone. "Welcome to Dr. Frankenstien's lab, Jacob." He listened to her shaky voice across the phone. Suddenly it dropped to a near-whisper. "Come get me."

He needed no second bidding.

The CIA came crashing down on the place like a sledgehammer.

Although Alyssa had been able to successfully manipulate the controls for the outside door with minimal resistance, she was unable to control the automated resistance protocols set deep with in the computer system, and even the complex itself. The moment Jacob's CIA team set foot inside, all fury broke loose.

Alarms started blaring at a piercing volume, causing Mulder, Scully, Jered and Alyssa to hit the ground suddenly, clutching at their ears in a attempt to block the horrendous noise. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

Alyssa lifted her head and looked around for a moment, only to duck cringing again when she heard another sound began to wail.

But her cringing didn't last for long as she realized what the noise was.

"NOOO!" She cried, jumping to her feet and running toward the computer console. "They're erasing the hard-drive! It's all disappearing!!"

"Alyssa! Look out!!" Mulder bellowed, seeing a odd bluish glow emanating from the computer console. He launched to his feet, tackling Alyssa and shoving her away from the computer, just as her hands touched the keys....and received a searing electric shock.

Alyssa screamed in pain, the entire room seemed to shudder....

...and was plunged into darkness.

- Elsewhere in the compound...

Captain Pacy Marshall was fuming.

(How could this have happened?!?!) He raged silently. There was only one possible way it could have happened. That dam*ed Caitren woman must have hijacked the central computer controls.

Her guards would PAY.

That is, if any of them made it out alive.

Surrender was *not* a option. Pacy and Colonel Copremimer knew that. The crew knew that. They were all equipped with lethal ingested capsules. Surrender was not a option.

But for the select few, escape was.

While the CIA had already reached the level where most of the submarine transports were kept, there was a small one near the compounds "backdoor", so to speak.

Captain Marshall devoutly hoped that it was still in a working condition. The technological hardware help was surprisingly lacking. They had the most brilliant genetic scientists, and yet no one that could service at a simple submersible.

Beside him, Colonel Copremimer jogged at the fastest pace he could maintain, wheezing from the physical exertion and sudden shock of the raid. Pacy felt a fierce and sudden anger at the man running beside him, knowing full well the inglorious dressing down he would receive from his superior if they both survived.

With immense relief, Captain Marshall saw the corner leading to the bunker that stored the escape vessel coming up fast. As they rounded the corner, Pacy saw one of the guards in the gray uniforms standing beside the hatch entrance to escape vessel, beckoning.

Pacy redoubled his stride, glancing back to the 4 or 5 select men who ran behind him. Officers and genetic engineers mostly. His eyes quickly double-checked one of the geneticists, who clutched in his arms the most precious thing of all....a small laptop computer and stash of vials full of genetic material.

They arrived at the hatch, and the bland-faced guard ushered them into the small vessel. Pacy eagerly jumped in, throwing nervous glances around as the men streamed into the tiny compact vessel, trying to locate the man with the DNA samples.

The guard began to close the hatch, and Captain Pacy Marshall suddenly wondered why he did not recognize the guard, and moreover, why the guard did not step into the escape vessel himself.

However, he didn't have too much time to ponder over it, because the hatch closed, the lock sealed, and the vessel suddenly imploded on itself.

True to his own prophecy, no one would ever laugh at Pacy Marshall again.

Outside the imploded vessel, the guard turned and pried the laptop and DNA samples from the dead geneticist he had killed in the confusion.

Taking the laptop and samples, he turned and entered the hatch of a *second* escape vessel, that had been hidden from view.

Taking a moment to change the mask of the bland faced guard, the bounty hunter returned to his customary human face. When all was secure he threw the ignition switch, launching away from the compound and disappeared into the murky waters of the Bermuda Triangle.

- Back inside the computer room...

"Mulder?!" Scully called out to her partner in the dark. "Mulder, where are you?"

"Over here!" Mulder's voice seemed muffled in the all consuming dark.

"Is Agent Caitren injured?" Scully called out, using Mulder's voice as a homing beacon in the pitch black.

"I-"

"I'm okay, Agent Scully." Alyssa voice called, a bit wobbly. "I just got a good strong shock, nothing else. No burns, I think. My hand hurts a little."

"Any numbness?" Scully asked again.

"No."

"Okay, you'll be alright then." Scully said with some relief, still moving towards them. "Mulder! Keep talking, I'm coming over there."

"Talk about what?"

"I don't care....anything."

"*Anything* Scully?"

"Don't test me, Mulder."

His chuckled reverberated around the room. "Right. Okay, so I don't know about you guys, but I'm wondering what we do now. I mean, how is Alyssa's lover boy and his SWAT team supposed to find us anyway.?"

"He'll find us." Alyssa said, her voice stubbornly sure of herself.

"Heck, he came *this* far didn't he?" Jered piped up.

"Yeah, that's another thing I'm wondering about....how'd he know where to come? Hey Scully? You almost here? I'm running out of stimulating conversations...."

"Yes, I think I'm close Mulder."

"Yeah, I'd say so." He agreed, "Where are you?" He reached out a arm, reaching out in the direction of Scully's voice.

After a moment or two of flailing around in the dark, his hand suddenly came in contact with hers, brushing across her knuckles. He clutched at her hand, clasping it as he pulled her closer.

"There we go." Scully exhaled a bit in relief.

"You're not scared of the dark, are you Agent Scully?" Mulder asked her in a teasing voice.

"No." Scully told him succinctly. "Of course not."

"Sure...."

Abruptly, there came a shuddering ***THUD*** and the noise of shattering. "That must be them!" Alyssa said.

It was. The whole door crumpled and caved in the next few moments, allowing the emergency lights from the hallway to flood in, illuminating the room. Appearing in the halo of red lights was a anxious figure.

"Alyssa?"

"Jacob!" Alyssa jumped to her feet, heedless of her injured hand and threw her arms around the figure, who responded in kind, taking her head in his hand and landing a kiss on her lips.

Scully stood up slowly, dusting herself off as she straightened and reached a hand down to help Mulder to his feet, as they watched the two people embraced in the silhouette of the doorway.

The Next Day
9:00 am
Site of the Entrance to the Compound
Bermuda

Scully held tightly to the rail on the side of the open jeep they rode in on the bumpy trail out to the compound site. She had a splitting headache, and the jarring bumps weren't helping any.

Mulder had suggested she stay behind at the motel and get some more sleep while he headed out to the site. But Scully had refused, insisting she felt fine, and he shouldn't patronize her.

Now, she wished she had listened to him.

"Agents Scully and Mulder!" The voice of Jacob Grant called out to them when the approached the site. Jacob was wearing jeans and a light jacket, evidence that he had also been back to the motel that night, despite the fact that he had been at the compound with his CIA team since 6:00 that morning.

The jeep pulled to a stop and Mulder and Scully stepped out, shaking Agent Grant's hand as he approached them. The younger man was obviously agitated. "I tried to call you on your cell, but you must have turned it off." Mulder glanced down at his jacket and shook his head. "Nope. Left it at the hotel." He said sheepishly. "What's wrong?"

"Just about everything." Jacob said angrily. "It's gone. It's all gone."

"What do you mean?" Scully asked in some alarm.

"Just what I said." He motioned behind him. "It collapsed. All of it. Just like that, the entire compound was destroyed overnight. It must have had some kind of self-destruct."

Mulder and Scully look at the ruined wreckage of the entrance in horror.

"Nothing could be saved?" Scully asked.

"Nothing. It's all gone. Like it never was." Jacob said bitterly. "All attempts to retrieve data have failed, and I just got a call saying that the CIA and the Bermudan government want us out. *Now*, with no excuses. They didn't even respond to my report on the compound."

Mulder sighed next to Scully, as if he had expected it.

"Why the heck are they trying to bury something like this?" Jacob asked animosity and confusion. "I don't understand it." The CIA agent turned away.

Mulder and Scully stayed silent.

"Anyway, I'm getting my team outta here before I lose my job." He turned back to look at the still-smoking ruins. "Not like there's anything to recover here." He hissed, and walked away.

"Well." Mulder sighed after a moment.

"Well." Scully echoed.

"Another one for the unwritten books, huh?" Mulder turned to Scully with a sad, ironic smirk on his face.

"I guess so." Scully rejoined, turning to look back up at him.

Together, they turned around and got back into the jeep, and began the long ride home.

5 Months Later.....
Bermuda Triangle
The cruise ship "Caribbean Duchess" was celebrating her maiden voyage. The food was excellent, and the wine was better. The entertainment was beyond compare, even for such a small cruise liner.

The crew was friendly, the captain was confident. It would be a excursion to remember. Even the weather was perfect.

But from somewhere, came a roll of thunder.

THE END