Season Six:
Episode 5

Main Campus
Ohio State University
6:47 pm

A black van and a white van are parked next to a non-descript building. Several college students, complete with backpacks and personal electronics, walk on the sidewalk between the vans and the building. The building has a glass double door entrance. Etched in the glass is the following:

"The Edgar B. Hartlan Microbiology Building".

Inside the building is a long hallway, running the length of the structure. At the end of the hallway is a stairway. Three flights of stairs below is a sub-basement, also equipped with a long corridor, running the length of the structure. Two actually, connected by an elevator bay in the center, forming an H. The laboratory facilities on this floor are dated, used for teaching. There are muted noises emanating from the floor below. An elevator door opens, and the button for the next lower floor is depressed. After the brief downward movement, the elevator door opens into a second sub-basement. In contrast to the floor above, this level consists of new laboratory space. The area has a high-tech look (a lot of stainless steel and reinforced glass) with card key access required. The door is open, however. Numerous men in black suits are moving about the area. Files, specimens and other signs of the work that had been conducted in this laboratory are being eradicated. Several men exit with items designated for either transfer to an alternative location or destruction.

A man of about 40 with striking blue eyes is observing the activities of his companions with an eye toward completeness and efficiency. He is pleased.

"So you believe that Marita Covarrubias' disappearance is related in some way to the deaths of the scientists in Ohio and Pennsylvania?" Assistant Director Walter Skinner took in the affirmative nods from Special Agents Mulder and Spender before continuing. "This conclusion is based upon a letter to Ms. Covarrubias that you found in my apartment which referred to a research project that had been stopped somehow?"

This time Skinner got a "Yes, Sir" from both men.

"A letter sent by a woman named Katarina, whom you both believe may be the same woman referred to in the videotape in which Agent Scully and Alex Krycek spoke with a man identified only as Dimitri?" Mulder and Spender glanced at each other before nodding once more. "I see. Would you care to comment Agent Fowley?"

"Sir. I believe the connections are plausible... and irrelevant. Ms. Covarrubias did not complete her assignment, so a direct connection between her and the scientists is unlikely." Diana paused briefly before continuing, possibly allowing for an interruption she expected from Mulder or perhaps merely for effect. "And a first name, which may or may not be accurate, is not in my opinion a sufficient basis upon which to build a case."

Skinner raised an eyebrow, inviting comment from the male agents. "I guess we're off to Ohio, Spender," offered Mulder.

"Agent Fowley will be accompanying you." Walter Skinner did not fail to notice Agent Mulder's quick look toward Diana Fowley. He also noted her enigmatic smile in response. "This situation will bear watching," he thought.

Cigarette Smoking Man and Special Agent Dana Scully stood side by side in a small observation room, watching Alex Krycek stare at the wedding ring on his left hand. "Interesting," commented Cigarette Smoking Man. When Agent Scully looked at him questioningly, he added, "Come now, Agent Scully, apply that fine scientific mind."

"It might have been so simple," she began thoughtfully, taking her time. "Gibson could determine what Krycek had experienced by "listening" to his thoughts. But if Alex can't remember, there is nothing for Gibson to "hear." If the memory loss is temporary, all they have to do is wait. If it isn't, all of this is moot."

"Taking action at this time suggests a more intriguing scenario, don't you think?" Dana Scully thought she heard a challenge in Cigarette Smoking Man's "question," and considered carefully.

"Action is inconsistent with what I described," she admitted. Scully then took a moment to examine the assumptions underlying her earlier analysis. "Is it possible that Gibson can't "hear" Alex's thoughts? If he can't, they're verifying the memory loss, instituting a backup plan to obtain the information or both. That is, unless...?"

Cigarette Smoking Man heard and interpreted the incomplete interrogative. "Alex and Marita are not married. The boy has some common sense." Cigarette Smoking Man paused and put out his spent cigarette before continuing. "Creating a new life for Alex would rely on his acceptance of what appears to be true in the face of anything he might recall. Such acceptance goes against Alex's deeply ingrained learned behavior, the near paranoia upon which his survival has recently hinged. An interesting psychological experiment." As he returned his attention to the scene before him, Cigarette Smoking Man wondered if Special Agent Dana Scully had realized that "Krycek" was becoming "Alex" to her.

Alex Krycek thought about the ring on his finger and the woman in his arms. His memory did not provide a context for these thoughts, but something felt wrong. Quite wrong.

"Alex?" His attention focused on the woman who had whispered his name. The look on her face was heartbreakingly vulnerable. Tears were starting to flow. As is generally the case with a man confronted with a woman crying, Krycek wasn't sure what to do. He opted for holding her closer and letting her release her emotions.

As he looked over Marita's shoulder, his eyes met those of the boy standing next to the bed. "Gibson, is it?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember me?"

"No. Sorry."

"That's ok, Uncle Alex. I'm staying with you at your house on the lake. Its really cool. You were going to take me fishing when you got home from work, but you got sick. You were even going to let me drive the speedboat."

The disappointment in the boy's tone made Alex smile. "Fishing?"

"Yeah. I wanted to go to the Orioles game, but you ..." Alex Krycek didn't hear the rest of Gibson's statement. He was having trouble keeping focus. That difficulty progressed rapidly to an inability to keep his eyes open.

"Keep him awake," came the order from above. Krycek's eyes opened in response to the directive, never really focused and closed again.

Marita Covarrubias, eyes suddenly dry and expression calculating, shifted positions. The new vantage point allowed her to observe the exhausted man next to her and the administration of another dose of stimulant. As the drug began to permeate his system, Marita noticed mounting tension in his shoulders and neck. "We can't have that," she thought, and began a gentle massage. She smiled, somewhat predatorily, as she felt most of the tension drain away.

As Krycek's eyes opened, Marita spoke as though uninterrupted, "... and so Jeremy took you to the hospital, claiming loudly and longly, to anyone who would listen apparently, that it wasn't his fault. He told you you needed a vacation. He insisted that you take one, and you, for once, agreed. You'd come into the office to finish one last thing..." Alex Krycek looked into the blue eyes of the woman who was speaking and felt...anger. He had no idea why. Marita Covarrubias frowned slightly as she felt the tension return.

Special Agents Mulder and Spender entered an elevator. Mulder pressed the button to take them to the basement office housing the Xfiles. Mulder kept pressing the button, even after the door closed. Spender observed this behavior with some concern. "What's wrong Mulder?" he asked as the door opened on the appointed floor.

The silence that followed Spender's question was deafening. Rather than trying again, Spender chose to simply follow Mulder into the office. As Spender leaned against the wall next to the door, Mulder entered the office, sat in his chair, got up, began to pace, stopped, sat down at his computer and began typing as fast as he could. The typing was fast and furious, but ended abruptly. Mulder then looked at his computer screen with some interest.

Whatever appeared disappointed the man. With a grunt, Mulder began typing furiously once more. After the typing-disappointed or angry or disgusted noise/expression cycle was repeated a number of times, Spender could no longer remain silent. "What are you doing Mulder?"

Fox Mulder looked surprised that another person was in the room. He then appeared about to answer Spender's question, when activity on his computer screen attracted his attention. Jeffrey Spender watched Mulder's eyes track the data appearing on his screen and saw his rising excitement. Continued observation showed Mulder's hopes plummeting. "Mulder?"

"I can't find it!"

"What?"

"I remember a reference to a Katarina in the Xfiles in 1994 or 1995. I just can't find it. Scully always could ...".

Spender watched the complex play of emotions on Mulder's face as his thoughts turned toward his missing partner. "Does Mulder really expect to make a connection with just a first name?" he wondered.

"Now I suppose we need a house on a lake and a speedboat?" one of the members of the Consortium queried in a sarcastic tone. "Stocked with fish, no less."

"Boys have a natural tendency to embellish," another offered.

"This one knows what he is doing, and is enjoying his foray into play acting," the First Elder assured his colleagues. "Whether we allow him to continue is the issue. Whether we allow either of them to continue."

As if on cue, the door to the main observation room opened and Marita Covarrubias entered. Cigarette Smoking Man followed, with lighted cigarette in hand. Marita stopped a few paces into the room and waited. Cigarette Smoking Man moved past her and glanced down at the sleeping patient below. After another round of "Do you remember," Alex had fallen asleep, and the Consortium had deigned to permit it. He had slept through the night.

"This appears to be going nowhere," the First Elder.

"We know that Alex really doesn't remember," Marita commented, a hint of defiance in her voice.

"He could be playing us for fools," the sarcastic Consortium member hypothesized. "He's done it before."

"Impossible. The disorientation is real. He's not faking this."

"I agree," Cigarette Smoking Man added. "However, I am uncertain that this elaborate charade is necessary... or useful." Cigarette Smoking Man raised an eyebrow as Marita Covarrubias turned toward him and took several steps in his direction before she mastered her anger (or was it panic).

"This charade, as you call it, is the only chance you have of getting at those memories at reasonable cost," she argued. "Alex's price, should he be able to exact it, will be high."

"Gibson can't read him. Interesting." Cigarette Smoking Man's comments were spoken almost as though he was talking to himself, but he didn't miss Ms. Covarrubias' puzzlement and almost accusatory look at the First Elder. "No one has mentioned Gibson's talents to you Marita? Why he hears other people's thoughts, don't you see? What would he tell this esteemed group about yours?"

"I ...," was all Marita could manage.

Cigarette Smoking Man saw the fear in her eyes and smiled.

"Enough of this," the First Elder interrupted. "Marita, my dear, how is it that you think you can help us?"

"I...I'm the only one who can cover all of the contingencies. Alex is beginning to accept what his situation appears to be, and I intend to use every means at my disposal to encourage him. I know Alex well enough to know what buttons to push." With that statement, Cigarette Smoking Man could see that Marita's confidence was returning. "If he begins to remember other aspects of his life before the recent events of interest, I can rely upon our actual relationship. If necessary, I'll tell him that you gentlemen have threatened Gibson and I with unspeakable things if we didn't obey."

"And if he recalls your most recent betrayal?" Marleton asked quietly.

"That will be my problem, won't it?"

"I'm afraid that will be our problem," Cigarette Smoking Man answered, and again faced an angry (panicked?) young woman. "There is a much simpler way."

Marita Covarrubias watched with dismay, as the members of the Consortium turned toward Cigarette Smoking Man.

An administrative assistant looked up from a telephone conversation as Special Agents Mulder, Spender and Fowley entered the office suite. She looked harassed. "Hold on McGuire...Can I help you?"

"We're with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We have an appointment with Dr. Collingsworth, but we're a few minutes early." As he responded, Agent Spender did his best to look harmless and unlikely to add to the young woman's bad day.

"I'm here Marjorie," Dr. Collingsworth advised, his Paul Newman blue-eyes amused. "I'll see them now. Please follow me. The conference room down the hall will be more comfortable than my office. I'm afraid I'm a bit of a pack rat. My papers, boxes and other assorted paraphernalia have been known to cause bouts of claustrophobia in susceptible individuals."

Agent Fowley enjoyed the view of the attractive man in the well cut suit as he preceded them down a narrow corridor. "Things have changed, since I was in college," she thought. The four made a right turn when the hallway ended in a T intersection, and entered the second door on the right. The conference room was a good size and had a view of a courtyard full of oak trees resplendent with fall color. "Nice view," Diana commented aloud.

"Isn't it? I rarely tire of it, regardless of the season."

"Dr. Collingsworth, do you have any idea what happened to your immunology staff?" Agent Mulder had decided that the time for niceties had passed.

"I've heard the story, with all of the tabloid details. The newspapers have had a field day. May I ask why the FBI is interested in this matter?"

"We have reason to believe that things may not be as they appear," Mulder answered before either of his colleagues could. "Some evidence in our possession suggests that Drs. Callahan, Montgomery, Sidel and Fitts may have been engaged in a research project that certain interests would want to stop."

Both Fowley and Spender looked at Mulder sharply. They knew, and assumed Dr. Collingsworth knew, that Dr. Sidel was a Senator's nephew.

"With all due respect, Mr...."

"Mulder".

"Mulder, I can't imagine anyone wanting to stop research into a vaccine for the Ebola Zaire virus."

"Why do you think we're here then?"

"I assumed it was because Senator Sidel didn't want to believe that his nephew was fool enough to play Russian Roulette for the chance to bed a woman. That's what everyone is saying, and the Columbus police haven't issued a statement to the contrary. Things might be a bit uncomfortable on the Hill these days. Scandal attracts the wrong kind of special interest."

"Your relationship to the four deceased is what exactly?" Spender asked to change the subject.

"I'm the head of the immunology department. Their boss, once-removed, I guess you could say. Dr. Elaine Broadford is the research director. They interacted with her on a more day-to-day basis."

"What courses did they teach," Mulder asked casually.

"They weren't teaching faculty, Mr. Mulder. But you knew that before you asked, didn't you?" The two men stared at each other. The hostility was palpable and growing. Spender looked at Fowley helplessly.

"May we see their offices and lab space?" Diana asked, hoping to divert Mulder from annoying Dr. Collingsworth further. "We appreciate your cooperation, but don't want to impose."

She was rewarded with a winning smile. "Of course, I'll have someone show you."

Satisfied that he had provided a reasonable alternative to the Consortium, Cigarette Smoking Man moved toward his next objective. Gibson Praise had to be interviewed. Cigarette Smoking Man paused before the door that led to Gibson's room. His sharp hearing enabled him to pick out the distinctive voice of Homer Simpson. In a gesture designed to startle, Cigarette Smoking Man opened the door quickly and stepped into the room. "Hello, young man."

"Hello." Gibson paused and cocked his head to one side for a moment before continuing. "You're right. I can't hear Alex anymore. I don't know why I can't, but I like it. We can have a real conversation."

"My understanding is that you always could."

Gibson grinned. "Alex didn't care whether I could hear him or not. He sometimes thought stuff at me, just to make me laugh...or make me mad. Everybody else was afraid of me."

"Is Ms. Marita afraid of you?"

"She's scared, but not of me. She doesn't care what happens to me...or Alex. All she wants is to get away from him."

"Who?"

"You know. The guy everybody takes orders from. The one who first came to your mind when I said "him". Gibson grinned at Cigarette Smoking Man's slight, but noticeable, reaction to that revelation.

"I am concerned about Alex. Do you believe that?" When the boy nodded, Cigarette Smoking Man continued, "Do you remember Dana Scully?"

"The red haired woman with Agent Mulder?"

"Yes. Did you trust her?"

Gibson looked off into space for a moment, then nodded slowly. "She wouldn't hurt anyone, unless she had to. She liked me."

"Thank you Gibson. We will talk again." With that, Cigarette Smoking Man turned to exit the room. When he opened the door, he looked back at the boy. Noticing the boy staring at him and realizing where his thoughts had strayed, Cigarette Smoking Man closed the door and moved quickly down the corridor.

The undergraduate work-study student that Dr. Collingsworth assigned to show Agents Mulder, Fowley and Spender around was quite talkative. Unfortunately, she didn't know anything specific about the four immunologists or their work. She did know all of the details of the "official story" of their deaths as well as seemingly endless material gleaned from the rumor mill.

"I still don't understand, Cathy," Agent Spender stated politely, while glaring at the other two agents, neither of whom appeared to be paying particular attention to his conversation with their guide. Catherine Wells had decided that Jeffrey, who she thought of and had once aloud referred to as the "cute one", was the appropriate repository for all of the "facts" at her command.

Her preoccupation with Agent Spender had allowed Mulder to wander freely in the offices of the four scientists, for all the good it did him. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing was out of the ordinary. To Fox Mulder, the sheer "ordinariness" was extraordinary. It didn't feel right. In frustration, he tuned back in to Cathy's monologue. He had to do something while they walked to the laboratory where the four had spent a large part of their time and where the three men had been found, each shot once in the head.

"... had a cabin in Pennsylvania. That is where they found her. I heard there was a really long and detailed suicide note. It was right next to the sleeping pills, I bet. That's where I'd put it. Can you imagine, Agent Fowley? Three men in love with you at the same time... and in such a dramatic competition."

Diana Fowley had watched the younger woman moving closer to Spender as she spoke. His trapped expression was priceless. "I don't know Cathy," she responded and noted Spender's grateful look in her direction as Cathy's attention focused on Diana, allowing him to gain some distance. "Sometimes, one man can be more than enough trouble." Neither Cathy nor Jeffrey missed Diana's gaze shifting to Mulder as she spoke.

"Depends on the man, I guess," the student offered as she halted next to an unmarked doorway and unlocked it. "I can only go into the main laboratory area. Access to the Biosafety Level 4 facility is very exclusive."

"That should be good enough," Agent Spender assured her without a glance Mulder's way to allow for non-verbal disagreement. He needn't have worried.

Mulder had entered the lab, looked about intently and approached the freezer unit with a purpose. He opened the unit and glanced inside. There were only a few samples. "Is there a way to identify these?"

"The codes on them should match entries in their lab notebooks."

Mulder copied the codes from the samples. "See if you can locate the cross-references, Spender. I'm sure Cathy will be happy to help you look."

Mulder smiled innocently in the face of Spender's "I'll get you for this Mulder" glare, as Spender snatched the notepad from Mulder's outstretched hand. When the two younger people had left the room, Mulder turned to Fowley. "We need to get this entire freezer unit to the CDC in Atlanta." At Diana's raised eyebrow, he added, "Humor me."

Dimitri was not certain about his assignment. The First Elder had asked him to keep an eye on Cigarette Smoking Man. That had not been a challenge. He had met with the army personnel and retrieved Alex, brought Alex to the compound and remained there. Nothing exciting to report.

The only thing remotely interesting that he had done was bring Agent Scully to the second observation room. Why Cigarette Smoking Man had done that was beyond Dimitri's powers of comprehension. The woman was bright, but she had hitched her wagon to Alex's, a miscalculation of epic proportion as far as Dimitri was concerned. She was pretty though, he had to admit that. He could understand Alex's interest in/protection of this particular woman.

Cigarette Smoking Man had today met with the Consortium, where the First Elder could observe him first hand, and then visited the boy everyone seemed so excited about. That was another bit of information that Dimitri was interested to ascertain. Katarina would pay well for that. Dimitri also knew that she would pay dearly for Alex's location, but he wished to live to see his next birthday. He couldn't possibly spend all of the money Katarina would shower upon him before he met with an accident arranged by the Consortium.

After that, Cigarette Smoking Man went to his quarters. "How exciting!" Dimitri thought. He had stayed there all afternoon and well into the evening. "It's now 7:30 pm. Time for dinner. You can set your watch by this guy," Dimitri observed to himself aloud. Cigarette Smoking Man's routine had been inviolate since his arrival at the compound. When he did not emerge, Dimitri checked his watch.

This was odd. Odd enough to be of concern. Dimitri used his cellular phone to summon aid. Two young men arrived within three minutes and entered Cigarette Smoking Man's quarters within two more.

The suite was empty.