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A New War #2
Where is Dr. Blackwood?
by Lianne Burwell
November 1998
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As she left the FBI headquarters in Washington, Debi McCullough, recently 
graduated FBI agent, brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, already 
starting to sweat in the unusually warm fall air. Sometime she wondered 
just what she was doing here. When she had graduated, she'd expected to 
be assigned to a branch office out in the middle of nowhere. She 
certainly hadn't expected to be assigned to the Washington office.

But her delight at the plum assignment had been short-lived. Arriving at 
work on her first day, she had found a note waiting for her. One that 
scared the hell out of her. The writer said that 'they' knew exactly who 
she was, and warned her to keep quiet about her teenaged years and what 
had happened then. And above all, to keep away from one Special Agent Fox 
Mulder.

She'd heard about Mulder during her training at Quantico. He was 
alternatively held up as an example of a brilliant profiler and an 
example of a good agent gone cuckoo. Mulder was obsessed with the 
bizarre, they said. He even believed in aliens.

Everyone had laughed at that. Everyone except Debi, that was. She knew 
that aliens were all too real, and that they could be a great threat. 
They could also be a boon, she reminded herself, remembering the ones who 
had been friends and allies.

So she had destroyed the note and had gone about her business, trying to 
forget all about it. And she *had* forgotten about it, at least until 
this morning when she had found another note, this time asking her to 
meet with Agent Mulder. The note promised that no one would know, but she 
had trouble believing it.

So what the hell was she doing meeting with the man? 

"Agent McCullough?"

Debi turned to the car that had just pulled up next to her. The driver 
was cute, she thought to herself. Probably about ten years older than her 
with green eyes and short brown hair. Despite the heat and humidity, he 
was wearing a leather jacket and gloves.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, not wanting to commit herself yet.

"I'm your ride to the meeting."

Debi watched him for a moment. He waited patiently. Time to choose, she 
told herself. She could walk away, right now. Pretend that nothing had 
happened.

Then she sighed. Her curiosity would drive her nuts if she did. Her 
mother had always said that she had more curiosity than was good for her.

"All right," she said and got in the car.

* * * * *

Krycek split his attention three ways as he drove. Part of him was 
focused on the late afternoon traffic. Part was focused on watching for 
any attempts to tail them. He was very good at that, and he hadn't seen 
any yet.

But the rest of his attention was on the young woman in the passenger 
seat. Agent Debi McCullough was obviously nervous. She fidgeted in her 
seat, watching him and watching the cars behind them. She was obviously 
nervous about being followed too.

"Relax," Alex said, flashing his best bad-boy grin at her. "Nobody's 
tailing us. Trust me, I'm very good at what I do."

She did relax, fractionally. There were few women out there who didn't 
give in to his natural charm. Unfortunately, Scully was most definitely 
one of them. Things would be so much easier for him if she did.

McCullough might not be as tense about being followed, but she was far 
from ready to trust him. "So," she said. "You know my name, but I don't 
know yours. Who are you?"

Alex grinned again. This would be fun. "Alex Krycek, at your service. I'd 
offer to shake hands, but I prefer to keep my good one on the wheel." The 
girl went white at that. Obviously new recruits were being told all about 
the 'dread traitor Krycek' these days. She was reaching for the door 
handle, but the locks were all controlled from the driver's seat. Child-
safety locks. Gotta love 'em.

"Don't worry, kiddo," he said. "We're almost there."

"I take it that the note *wasn't* from Agent Mulder," she said, quickly 
giving up on trying to unlock the door.

"Yes it was. I told Mulder I'd pick you up."

"And why would he let you?" she asked, suspicion plain. "I was under the 
impression that you had betrayed him several times over. Not to mention 
that you were *thought* to be in Russia."

Alex shook his head. "When the enemy is bad enough, you'll work with 
anyone," he pointed out. "And I was in Russia. Now I'm here."

She didn't respond, but she didn't look any happier either. By this point 
they were out in the suburbs. Alex turned into a new subdivision. The 
houses were almost finished, only needing interior work, but no one had 
moved in yet. At this time of day, the workers had already left for the 
day. Alex pulled up onto the gravel that marked where a driveway would 
eventually go and stopped the engine. Mulder's car was already there.

"Here we are," he said, unlocking all the doors. The girl was immediately 
out of the car, gun in her hand. Alex wondered why she hadn't tried to it 
earlier. He ignored it, turning towards the house instead. "Mulder's 
inside."

He headed for the door, wondering if she would follow, shoot or run. 
Maybe he should have dragged her in since they really *did* need to get 
information from her, but that would probably guarantee that she wouldn't 
tell them a thing. Behind him, the slow crunch of gravel said that she 
was following. The girl must have a *bad* case of curiosity. Kind of like 
another FBI agent he knew, he thought fondly.

Inside, the building was bare. The finished carpentry was only half-done 
and the smell of sawdust and paint filled the air. Alex headed for what 
was intended to be the dining room, the only room on the ground floor with 
few windows to worry about.

"Mulder?"

Mulder was sitting on the floor, still dressed in his usual work suit. He 
hadn't even taken off the jacket or tie. Alex winced at the sight of the 
tie. One of these days he was going to break into Mulder's apartment 
while he was at work, take his collection of ties (all of them hideous) 
and replace them with ones that would actually look *good* on the man.

Alex shook his head. Knowing Mulder, he would promptly go out and replace 
the ties taken. Maybe it was his color-blindness. Maybe it was another 
way to rebel against the stuffed-shirt mentality of the FBI. No, he 
wouldn't steal the guy's ties. In a way, they were almost appealing in 
their ugliness.

As McCullough followed Alex into the room, Mulder pushed himself to his 
feet, absent-mindedly wiping his hands on his pants before holding out 
one to shake.

"Thanks for coming, Agent McCullough," he said as she shook it. Alex 
could see her melting under his smile already. Alex might get away with a 
lot based on his bad-boy persona, but Mulder seemed to bring out the 
protective instincts in women.

"Well, I was warned not to, but I was curious," she said, smiling for the 
first time since Alex had picked her up.

"Warned?" Mulder's head tilted to the side, slightly.

"Anonymous notes telling me not to talk to you, among other things," she 
replied, shifting her weight from side to side. She was obviously nervous.

Mulder looked over to Alex, frowning slightly. Both of them could guess 
*who* had warned her. Then he turned back to her.

"Tell me, Agent McCullough. What do you think about aliens?"

"I don't." They could see her closing up on them. "What do you want?" she 
asked bluntly.

Mulder sighed and cut to the chase. "I want to contact Harrison Blackwood."

* * * * *

Somehow, Debi wasn't surprised. The only reason that Fox Mulder would 
want to talk to her was her experiences with the Blackwood project, and 
Harrison was the person he was most likely to want to reach. The question 
was how did he find out about the project? She was under the impression 
that all the records had been destroyed.

In fact, that was why she'd chosen the FBI as a career. From inside the 
FBI she would have a better chance of finding out what happened to her 
great-uncle, General Wilson and why they'd been forced underground. For 
the first three years of the Blackwood project they'd been funded by the 
government. Then, without warning, General Wilson had disappeared and 
they'd been targeted by the military as well as the aliens. All knowledge 
of their existence had been disavowed, she said to herself in the tone of 
the old TV show.

Debi only half-listened as Mulder talked about aliens like oil-slicks, 
shape-changers, weird bees and clones. Clones she knew about, all too 
well. A clone of Colonel Ironhorse had tried to kill her. Her life and 
everyone else's had been bought at the cost of the life of the *real* 
Ironhorse. She still had nightmares from time to time about that night. 
The year that followed had been pure hell. Society seemed to be falling 
apart around them as they hunted for a way to end the Mothren threat. 
Harrison had been tireless during that year, constantly hunting for a way 
to triumph. But then they had, and he had fallen apart. Without the fight 
to distract him, he'd finally had to face his lover's death.

She wasn't supposed to have known that Harrison and Ironhorse were 
lovers. Her mother had done her best to keep her in the dark, although 
everyone else seemed to know about it. She probably *would* have stayed 
in the dark, if she hadn't been outside the locked library doors at the 
cottage at the wrong time.

//"Paul, this isn't the time. Mrs. Pennyworth will have dinner ready soon."

"But I'm hungry *now*. The Colonel's voice was low and throaty as he 
laughed. The sound of a zipper being undone followed.

"Paul... Paul!"

Debi pressed her ear against the door, listening to the slurping noises 
and gasps. Her mother thought that she was too young to know about sex, 
but she knew enough to guess at what was probably going on in there.

The groans were getting louder now, culminating in a strangled cry. There 
was heavy breathing, then the sound of a zipper being done back up.

"You're crazy, Colonel," Harrison said in a fond tone, after a few minutes.

"That's why you love me," was the immediate response.

Debi wondered how long she should wait before knocking to let them know 
that dinner was ready. After all, she didn't want to embarrass them...//

Debi gave a little shudder as she pulled herself back to the present. 
She'd only actually *seen* Harrison a handful of times since he'd left 
for his cabin. He'd lost weight and there were permanent lines drawn on 
his face. Debi had thought of suggesting that he meet other people, maybe 
find someone else... Then she'd thought better of it. Harrison wasn't 
ready for it, and he might never be.

If only something could be found to force him back into the land of the 
living again...

At that thought, Debi made a decision. She raised a hand and Mulder 
halted in mid-lecture. "All right. When?"

Both of the men stared at her, as if surprised that she had agreed so 
easily. Mulder blinked. "Uhh... How about this weekend?"

"Fine. We'll leave Friday night. Pick me up at the cafe down the street 
from my apartment at 8 p.m. I assume that you know where that it?" Mulder 
still looked dazed, but Krycek nodded. "All right, then. Now, how about a 
ride home?"

Krycek tossed her the car keys. "I'll be out in a minute."

Debi nodded, then headed for the door.

* * * * *

Alex turned to Mulder. "Well, *that* was easier than I expected."

Mulder was looking dazed, an expression only enhanced by the bruise on 
his forehead. "No kidding. Is she up to something?"

Alex thought about it, considering her expression when she was listening 
to Mulder. "Yes and no. I think she has her own reasons for agreeing, but 
I don't think she's planning to pull a fast one."

"Well, you better drive her home. I'll see you Friday."

"Take care of yourself," Alex said. He couldn't resist the urge to brush 
a gentle fingertip across the bruise. Then he left the house before his 
ex-partner could react.

* * * * *

The next day, Mulder shocked the hell out of his partner by offering to 
treat her to lunch.

"I should have known," Scully said, glaring at him.

"What? So, what do you want on them?" Mulder asked, after telling the 
hotdog vendor that *he* wanted everything on his 'dogs.

"I should have known that you would be too cheap to spring for anything 
better. Mustard, relish and onions, please."

Scully accepted her hotdogs, while Mulder fished out his wallet to pay 
for them. Side by side, they strolled through the park.

"So what is it you need to tell me that you don't want overheard?"

Mulder grinned around a mouthful of hotdog. "Maybe it's just a beautiful 
day, and I want to enjoy it," he said after swallowing. The look she sent 
his way said that she wasn't buying it. "We need to take a little trip 
this weekend. To see Doctor Blackwood."

Scully looked surprised at that. "You found him that quickly? So who is 
going on this little trip?"

"You, me, Debi McCullough - since she's supplying the directions." He 
paused, knowing the explosion that was guaranteed to follow. "Krycek."

"Mulder! You can't *trust* that two-faced rat. I still don't understand 
why you even bother trying."

Mulder sighed. It was the same complaint. "I don't know either. But 
everything he's told me has had at least a kernel of truth in it. 
Besides, he's useful. What *I* don't understand is why *he* bothers. For 
the longest time it was always the same thing. He shows up. I accuse him 
of killing my father. He denies it. I accuse him of killing your sister. 
He denies it. I accuse him of participating in your kidnapping. He admits 
it, but says he didn't have a choice. Then I hit him, but he doesn't 
fight back. Then he passes on information. I don't know why he kept 
coming before we decided to skip straight to the information stage."

"I can guess," Scully muttered to herself. Mulder frowned at her, but she 
didn't seem inclined to explain just what she meant by the comment. "So 
what do I pack?" she finally asked with a resigned sigh.

Mulder shrugged, then grinned. "Normal weekend stuff, I guess. After all, 
if anyone asks we can say we're on a weekend double-date."

Scully snorted, then went back to carefully eating her hotdogs. Amazing 
how she managed to do that so neatly when Mulder already had a brand-new 
collection of stains on his tie.

* * * * *

Thursday night, Debi pulled the book of road-maps off her shelf and 
started planning the trip. She hadn't been to Harrison's cabin in nearly 
three years, but she remembered the location well. However, she wanted to 
chose a route that would make it difficult for anyone to follow them.

She was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing, though. 
Was it worth getting involved, simply to try to drag Harrison out of his 
self-imposed exile? After fighting in one alien invasion, did she really 
want to get involved in a second?

Debi sighed. There wasn't really a choice here. After all, it was her 
world too, and she didn't plan on sitting back while others fought to 
protect it.

Here we go again.


TO BE CONTINUED