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A New War #12: Surveillance
by Lianne Burwell
April 1999
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It was late when they finally arrived in Cascade and checked into the 
motel were Debi and Scully were supposed to meet them. Harrison dropped 
the bag containing the few clothes that Vincent and his people supplied 
them with on the floor in the corner of the room, and Paul dropped onto 
one of the beds with a sigh and shut his eyes. It was amazing how tired 
he could be after sleeping for eight years.

Vincent. The image of the cat-man flashed behind his eyelids. Vincent was 
one hell of an enigma, but one that he hadn't had the chance to learn 
much about. At first, he'd been so distracted by his reunion with 
Harrison that he hadn't noticed anyone or anything else in the room. The 
next day, between the scan results and the planning, there hadn't been 
time to learn anything about him. On the plane, he'd wanted to question 
Harrison, but it had been too public for that sort of topic. Still, he 
was going to get some answers. It was a mystery, and Paul *hated* 
mysteries.

But not now. Right now he was too tired to think coherently.

The bed creaked as Harrison lay down next to him. Strong arms wrapped 
around him, and Harrison buried his nose in Paul's neck, inhaling deeply, 
then sighing in contentment. Strangely, that touch drained any residual 
tension left over from the long flight.

Paul turned, and let himself be pulled closer. "Harrison?"

"Hmm?" the big man purred, his hands starting to roam over Paul's body.

"We going to call Suzanne?"

Harrison had worked his way up to nuzzling Paul's ear, and he pulled back 
long enough to say, "When Debi gets here. Tomorrow."

"Okay, that makes sense." Paul paused, then grinned. "What do we do in 
the meantime?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Harrison replied. He rolled over 
onto his back, pulling Paul on top of him.

"Oh, I'm sure we will, Doctor," Paul grinned back at him, then dipped 
down to seal the man's mouth with his own.

As Harrison began to strip him, there were only two thoughts left in 
Paul's mind. First, Suzanne could wait. Second, maybe he wasn't as tired 
as he thought.

* * * * *

Paul came awake, instantly alert, at the knock on the door; a leftover 
from his military days. A glance at the alarm clock showed that it was 
nearly eight in the morning. Later than he usually woke, but then they'd 
been up rather late the night before, he thought with a fond smile.

Whoever it was knocked again. "All right, just a minute," he called, 
grabbing for his jeans and pulling them on. Not bothering with a shirt, 
he headed for the door, idly wishing that he had a weapon, just in case. 
He felt even more naked without a firearm. Behind him, Harrison groaned 
and sat up in the bed.

Paul checked through the peephole, and saw two women on the other side of 
the door. Being cautious, he opened the door only a crack, with his 
weight behind it to slam it shut if necessary. "Yes?"

The redhead was short, but looked like she could give his old drill-
sergeant a run for his money in the 'balls' department. And the blonde... 
She looked familiar. She was also staring at him with a shocked expression.

"Col... Colonel?" The voice was also familiar.

"Debi!" Harrison called from the bed, grabbing for his clothes. Now it 
was Paul's turn to be shocked.

"Debi?"

This was Debi? This tall, elegant blonde? Suddenly the passage of time 
hit him with a vengeance. The Debi he remembered was a child, complaining 
about her homework and lack of friends. This woman was, according to 
Harrison, a college graduate and federal agent.

"But *how*?" she asked, reaching out to touch Paul, as if she couldn't 
believe her eyes. She probably didn't.

Paul stepped out of the way so that the two women could enter the motel 
room. "It's a long story," he said. "Short answer is that they cloned me 
more than once, then Malzor basically stuck me into cold storage in case 
he could use me again. I... Debi, I'm sorry. Harrison and Kincaid told me 
about what happened. You shouldn't have had to deal with that." Shouldn't 
have to deal with having someone you care about shoot his own head off in 
front of you. Shouldn't have had to deal with having her childhood ripped 
from her by a conflict she didn't belong in the middle of.

Suddenly his arms were full of a sobbing girl who now seemed more like 
the child he remembered. Awkwardly, he squeezed her and patted her on the 
back. She was taller than him, he realized with a start.

Finally, the sobs tapered off and she stepped back, scrubbing at her 
cheeks. He smiled, and ruffled her hair the way he used to. Harrison was 
coming out of the bathroom where he'd retreated to get dressed.

"Harrison will fill you in," he said gruffly, looking over at the other 
woman, Agent Scully he assumed. "As soon as I get dressed, we'll go find 
Suzanne."

With that, he grabbed the rest of his clothes and made his escape to the 
bathroom.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. It was the same 
face he remembered seeing every morning for years. Why? Eight years had 
passed. He should be showing that. Everyone else did, why not him? It was 
like he was trapped in a time warp, which wasn't a bad description of 
what had happened to him.

Paul shivered. Mentally, he'd known about how many years had passed. 
Emotionally, it was just starting to sink in.

* * * * *

The fall weather in Washington state was thankfully cooler than in 
Washington, but still warmer than usual for the area. It was certainly 
warm enough that the students wandering the Rainier University campus 
were all in short sleeves, and many were wearing shorts.

It hadn't been hard to find the Biology building and the lab of Doctor 
Janet Gallagher. The door was closed, but Harrison could hear a familiar 
humming on the other side. Harrison knocked.

"It's open!" Harrison opened the door, and looked inside.

"Harrison! Oh god, is it really you?"

Suzanne, or Janet he should say, flew into his arms. While they 
communicated on a fairly regular basis, they hadn't actually seen each 
other in more than five years.

The changes still shocked him. When they had realized that someone was 
targeting people who'd been involved in the war against the Mothren 
Kincaid had arranged for Suzanne to get plastic surgery. Gone was the 
long, dark blonde curls. In their place was a short cap of red hair. 
Subtle changes had been made to the shape of her nose and cheekbones, 
and colored contacts changed her eyes to green. The changes made her 
unrecognizable to anyone who didn't know what to look for. Her own 
mother, if she were alive, probably wouldn't recognize her.

Kincaid had also arranged for the fake records that had gotten her the 
position at Rainier. At first she'd found it difficult to get used to 
being called by a different name from the one she'd grown up with, but 
she'd confided in a recent e-mail that it had become such second nature 
that she was beginning to forget that Suzanne McCullough ever existed.

After a long hug, Suzanne pulled back. "God, it's good to see you, 
Harrison. But what dragged you out of hiding?"

Harrison tensed up. This was the part he hated. Tell her that, "It's 
started again."

Suzanne stared at him, horrified. "No," she whispered, stepping back.

Harrison followed her, and the others came behind him. Suzanne looked 
past him, and smiled. "Debi," she said. Then her eyes went wide. "Paul?"

Harrison barely caught her in time when she fainted.

* * * * *

Suzanne revived quickly, and after introducing her to Agent Scully they 
moved on to the explanations. First, Scully explained about her 
experiences with her partner, Mulder. Her tone reflected her obvious 
desire not to believe what she had seen over the years, but also the fact 
that events had made it impossible to do so.

Once she was finished, Harrison picked up, explaining what had happened 
since Debi had shown up on his doorstep with the two feds and the 
mercenary, Krycek, including the discovery and revival of Paul and the 
confirmation of his reality. Debi added her own story; the warnings to 
stay away from Agent Mulder and the fact that her roommate had been a 
double-agent set to keep an eye on her. She started shivering when she 
explained how her roommate had tried to kill her, but quickly pulled 
herself together. Suzanne reached over and squeezed her hand.

When they were done, Suzanne closed her eyes and sighed, still looking 
slightly dazed. "I thought it was over," she said, finally. "I *hoped* it 
was over. Changing my face and name and everything was worth it, as long 
as the aliens were *gone*."

She looked over at Paul and smiled sadly. "But if nothing else good comes 
out of this, at least we have you back. I'm so glad to see you again, 
Paul."

"And I'm glad to *be* back," Paul said in a wry tone. Harrison briefly 
ran a hand down the smaller man's arm, still getting used to the fact 
that he *could*. So many years alone, but not alone anymore. Never again.

Then something caught his attention, and he stood up and moved to the 
window.

"Suzanne," Paul continued, his tone now all business. "After the attacks 
on Harrison and Debi, you could be next. Has anything suspicious happened 
around here? Strange accidents? A feeling that you're being followed?"

Harrison stared out the window, trying to figure out what had pulled him 
there. He scanned the quad below and the surrounding buildings. All he 
saw were students, heading to and from classes.

"No, nothing. A few months ago, one of the grad students was attacked in 
his office and then drowned in the fountain in front of Hargrove hall, 
but I doubt that had anything to do with me. Maybe they haven't been able 
to track me down."

A flash of light made him blink. Following it back to the source, he 
found himself looking at the roof of the building directly opposite. 
Frowning, he stared, trying to figure out what was causing the flash. 
Suddenly, everything came into focus, and his blood went cold.

"Down!" he yelled, tackling Paul to the ground. Automatically, Scully and 
Debi hit the floor, Debi pulling her mother down with her.

"Harrison?" Paul gasped from under his not inconsiderable weight. 

At the same moment, the window exploded, showering them with glass. 
Harrison rolled with Paul until they were directly below the window, and 
out of the line of sight of the other building's roof. The women all took 
shelter under one of the heavy wood tables in the lab.

Then there was silence, followed the panicked screams of the students 
down in the quad. Cautiously, Harrison lifted his head to look out the 
window at the roof where he'd seen the gunman.

She was gone.

* * * * *

Alex eased his head over the edge of the outcropping, carefully watching 
for any sign that he'd been spotted. On either side of him, Kincaid and 
Mulder were doing the same. He brushed sweat and hair out of his eyes. 
Things had been so hectic the last few weeks that his hair was getting 
longer than he'd had it in years. The hum of insects filled the air, 
giving the impression of being in the middle of the wilderness, miles 
from any other humans.

That wasn't true, though. The scene below was *definitely* not that of an 
abandoned military base. The one gateway through the fence surrounding 
the base was manned by two soldiers, both carrying rather large firearms. 
When a truck rumbled down the road, it was checked thoroughly before 
being allowed through. A car leaving the base was checked almost as 
thoroughly. More armed soldiers were walking the perimeter of the fence, 
and that was just what they could see from their vantage point.

Alex pulled back and lowered his binoculars. "Okay, so we've hit paydirt," 
he said casually. "Any suggestions?"

Kincaid took one last look before pulling back. "The fence is wired, and 
I saw a *lot* of security cameras. If they're that paranoid, then they'll 
have someone monitoring them. I don't think we can disable one long 
enough to get through."

"And the patrols are frequent enough that even if we weren't spotted by 
the cameras, they would see us," Alex added.

"They practically went through that truck with a fine-tooth comb," Mulder 
added, worrying at his lower lip. "So stowing away on one isn't going to 
work." Alex found his eyes drawn to it, yet again, but quickly pulled his 
attention back to the matter at hand.

At least Mulder wasn't playing silent anymore. He'd still looked a little 
shell-shocked by what had happened the night before when they got up that 
morning, but now he looked more thoughtful. And every so often he shot 
looks in Alex's direction that made his blood run hot and his hopes run 
high.

Well, at least Mulder hadn't killed or maimed him, which was a good sign. 
And now his thoughts were heading in the direction that Alex wanted, 
which was even better. With any luck, he'd realize that Alex was the 
right person for him. After all, they were on the same side (most of the 
time), they had the same interests (sort of) and there was a definite 
attraction. He'd seen the looks Mulder had been giving him over the 
years, even if *Mulder* hadn't been aware of them. Add to that the fact 
that anyone Mulder got involved with would be a target for more 
organizations than could be named and it only made sense that he should 
get involved with someone who could take care of themselves; a description 
that fit Alex to a 'T'.

All right, so there was no evidence that Mulder had even *thought* of a 
man that way before. Details, details. Alex would bet that given an hour 
or two alone with the man in a bed, he could other man singing the 
praises of gay sex. He'd certainly give it his best shot. Besides, he'd 
felt a definite physical reaction from the man when he pinned him to the 
wall with the kiss. Indifferent, Mulder was *not*.

In the meantime, that wasn't getting them into the base, which was the 
whole point of this party.

Alex checked his gun again, a reassuring action. "Let's split up," he 
said. "Follow the full circuit of the fence. See if we can't find a hole 
in the security. No security is *completely* seamless."

He started to push back from the ridge when he heard something ominous.

A twig breaking.

Cursing silently, he turned his head.

While they'd been intent on the scene below, they'd been surrounded. 
Seven soldiers, all well armed, were right behind them. Alex swore again, 
this time out loud. How the hell had they been spotted? And how did that 
many soldiers manage to creep up on them without being noticed? Most 
American soldiers tended to be clumsy oafs who couldn't creep up on a 
deaf man without being noticed.

"Hands in the air, gentlemen and stand up. No sudden moves," the lead man 
said, his mouth quirking into a sardonic grin.

They climbed to their feet, keeping their hands in view. Three men 
stepped forward and frisked them. Every weapon they were carrying was 
found. They even took Alex's prosthesis, just in case.

"All right, let's go have a talk, shall we?" The leader gestured with his 
firearm. Alex, Mulder and Kincaid followed him, while the rest of the 
squad took up positions behind and to the side of them.

Well, it was one way to get inside the base.


TO BE CONTINUED