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A New War #29: Anticipation
by Lianne Burwell
January 2000
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Left alone in the abandoned facility with no idea how long they'd be 
there, the first thing they did was get settled. Suzanne started 
unpacking the boxes that had been left for them while Harrison and Paul 
checked the rest of the building, assuming that it was a building and not 
some sort of underground bunker.

They didn't find much. The abandoned equipment -- what little there was 
-- was all human manufacture and at least a decade old. The only 
exception was the portable toilet in one of the rooms off their starting 
point. Silly as it might be, both men were relieved that they wouldn't 
need to use a bucket, assuming that they could find one.

However, there was no sign of *why* the facility had been abandoned or 
what it's purpose had been.

After almost an hour of searching, they finally found the exit, an air-
lock setup. Fortunately, whatever was supplying the power for the lights 
and heat also powered the doors.

Unfortunately, once they got the doors open, any hopes they had of escape 
were crushed. The thick doors opened onto a snow-covered plain. The two 
men stared out over it, shivering in the cold wind. The thin light was 
fading fast as the sun went down.

"Antarctica," Harrison said gloomily. In a strange way, he liked it 
though. It was so... quiet.

"Or the North Pole," Paul suggested. He didn't sound like he seriously 
believed that.

Harrison shook his head. "No. This may sound stupid, but it *feels* like 
the South Pole."

Next to him, Paul shrugged, then shivered. "Well, with no vehicle, no map 
and no compass, we are going *nowhere*, not there would be anywhere to 
go. I suggest we get back inside and seal things up. The last thing we 
need is to start bleeding heat."

"All right," Harrison said, giving the peaceful landscape one last look 
before following Paul in. Inside, the hum of the generator and the echoes 
from their footsteps sounded almost deafening. Harrison winced. After all 
the torture tests he'd been put through, his senses felt hyper-sensitive. 
He focused on his lover, looking for the peace that the other man seemed 
to exude along with confidence, no matter what the circumstances.

They retraced their route back to the lab they'd started in, following 
their footsteps through the dust. There they found Suzanne inflating an 
air mattress, with two more leaning against the wall, already inflated.

"We've got food, bedding and clothes," she said, pointing towards tidy 
piles on tables that had been cleared of dust. Paul picked up one foil-
wrapped package and groaned.

"MREs," he said in a resigned tone. Harrison winced. He'd only had to eat 
the army's idea of a "Meal Ready to Eat" a couple of times in the past 
and he had as low an opinion of them as the common field soldier.

"It's better than starving," Suzanne pointed out.

Harrison glanced around. There were two storage rooms attached to the lab 
they were in -- probably the main lab originally. One had the portable 
toilet and the other was empty. He nodded towards it. "Do you want the 
other room or shall we take it?" he asked Suzanne, deciding to be 
optimistic and assume that he and Paul were going to need the privacy.

Suzanne chuckled. Having something to do had obviously raised her 
spirits. "You take it," she said. "That way, if I need to go to the 
toilet in the middle of the night, I won't have to worry about 
interrupting... anything," she added with a small leer.

Harrison glanced over at Paul, but the Colonel was busy going through 
their supplies. There were sleeping bags and pillows to go with the air 
mattresses, and several track suits that they could change into. There 
was even toilet paper and a pile of paperback novels, although Harrison 
doubted that he would ever be desperate enough to read a Harlequin 
Romance. He wondered briefly why an alien android would pick *those* for 
reading material.

Seeing soap in his lover's hand, Harrison grabbed it from him, along with 
a change of clothing and one of the towels that their very thorough host 
had left for them before heading for the door. "Shower," he called over 
his shoulder. They'd already discovered that there was running water -- 
although bottled drinking water had been left for them -- and they'd 
found a locker room, so he was looking forward to a hot shower. The more 
time that went by without the 'tests,' the more he relaxed. He was now 
relaxed enough that the he found the dirt and grime on his body and in 
his hair unbearable. Everything itched.

Paul uttered an almost inaudible moan. "I'll join you," he said, grabbing 
more towels and clothing for himself. Suzanne waved them off, picking up 
one of the romance novels.

Harrison quickly fell behind as Paul headed for the showers at a quick 
march. The military man had always been fastidious, so their time in 
Spender's hands, not allowed to bathe or change, had probably been as bad 
for him, if not worse, than it had been for Harrison.

Dirty clothes were dropped on the floor and left to molder. Clean clothes 
and towels were carefully hung on hooks. Hot water was turned on and no 
words were spoken as they immersed themselves in the serious business of 
getting clean other than "Soap, please."

Finally, all dirt was gone and the two men just stood under the spray, 
enjoying the sensation of being clean. Harrison ran his fingers through 
the thick beard that he now sported, trying to bring it under control. He 
looked enviously at Paul. The man's Amerind genes meant that he had 
almost no facial hair worth noting, while Harrison grew a thick and curly 
beard, bright red in color, in a matter of days.

Paul noticed the motion and grinned. "Sorry, Doctor," he said. "No razors 
in the care package."

Harrison sighed. "She probably worried that we might use them to kill 
ourselves before we do whatever it is she wants from us." He paused. "Do 
you believe her?" he asked the other man. Harrison knew he was out of 
practice reading people after living in the woods for more than half a 
decade, and even before that he hadn't been very good at it. Paul had 
always been the more suspicious one.

Paul thought about it for a moment. "I don't know," he finally said. 
"She... sounds different. I mean, her face and voice still have no 
expression, but the way she talks is a little different. The phrasing is 
more natural. Hell, we don't even know if she really *is* the same one we 
met before, Katara. They're artificial beings. They could *all* look like 
that, for all we know."

Harrison nodded. "I noticed that too. So the question is, what do we do?"

"For now, what we're told. Our choices are a little limited, you noticed. 
She put us someplace we can't leave. Until she comes back, there's 
nothing we can do except wait."

Harrison leaned against the cool tile wall and closed his eyes, breathing 
the steam from the showers. Then he smiled. "I can think of one other 
thing we can do," he said softly.

Paul returned the smile, then moved into the circle of Harrison's arms, 
leaning against him. "So can I," he said.

Their lips met in a gentle kiss that slowly grew in intensity. Despite 
exhaustion and deprivation, Harrison's cock twitched and started to 
swell. Against him, he could feel Paul's cock doing the same. It felt so 
damn good.

By the time need for breath drove them apart, they were both hard and 
panting. Harrison reached down to grasp Paul's erection in one hand. He 
felt his lover's hand do the same to him and they both groaned. It had 
been too long. Since Paul had been returned to him, they hadn't gone this 
long without the intimate touching that they both seemed to need so badly.

It was short, but very, very sweet. Paul came first and Harrison brought 
his hand up to his mouth and licked the bittersweet fluid dripping from 
it. The overwhelming taste of 'Paul' was all he needed to drive him over 
the edge.

They collapsed against each other, panting as the hot water continued to 
cascade down on them. Finally, Paul pushed away and reached over to turn 
off the water. "Suzanne will kill us if we use all the hot water," he 
said apologetically.

Harrison grunted in understanding. The hot water and climax had caught up 
with him and he was almost asleep on his feet. Paul moved away, and a 
moment later he was being wrapped in a warm and fluffy towel. Sighing in 
pleasure, Harrison let his lover do with him as he willed.

* * * * *

Broots glanced at the door nervously. Sydney had finally gone home, and 
now that it was two in the morning, the tech-center was empty except for 
him. The Center was never really completely quiet, but in the middle of 
the night, he could be reasonably sure that he wasn't going to be 
interrupted.

The computer beeped and a small drawer slid open. He pulled the mini-disc 
from it and dropped it into a small pocket hidden inside his shirt. As 
soon as he was done here, he'd put it with the others, carefully hidden 
from prying eyes. Someday, if he got the chance, he'd sneak them out of 
the Center.

And then? Well, he wanted to get them to Jarod, but had no idea how to go 
about that. Jarod had helped him once; kept him alive when the Center had 
wanted him dead simply because he'd survived a massacre inside the 
facility and was considered suspect as a result. Sure, Sydney and Miss 
Parker had worked from the inside to help him, but Jarod had protected 
him until they'd succeeded. For that, he owed the man.

Hopefully, this would be a good form of repayment. He'd been copying the 
Center's entire database onto disk, a little bit at a time. He'd started 
with experiment data and personnel files, and worked his way out from 
there. He now had nearly everything on disk.

He never logged into the system as himself, of course. That would attract 
the wrong sort of attention. But he wasn't considered a master of the 
computer for nothing. For each section, he found a technician who would 
have reason to access the data and used *their* access codes at a time 
when they weren't logged in. With any luck, no one would even notice.

Broots shivered. He *hoped* that no one would notice. Getting caught 
poking around in places you weren't supposed to be was a good way to end 
up dead.

He really should get away from this place -- he knew that. Staying with 
the Center was almost a guarantee that sooner or later you'd end up dead, 
but he knew better than to try to leave. The Center would hunt him down, 
and he had a daughter to protect. Debbie was the light of his life, he 
thought with a smile. Only eleven, she was beautiful, smart and kind.

The smile disappeared. It had been made quite clear -- sometimes without 
even a word -- that she was the one who would suffer if he tried to get 
away. He'd sold his soul to the devil and the devil didn't like to be 
cheated. Besides, life on the run was no life for a young girl.

Broots glanced around one last time before leaving, checking to make 
sure he hadn't forgotten anything. In a way, that had been the Center's 
biggest mistake. They had threatened his daughter. The only way she would 
be really safe was if the Center no longer existed and Jarod was the 
person with the best chance of bringing down the damned place.

That was why Broots was risking his life in late-night data-raids. If 
Jarod was going to bring down Parker and his people, he was going to need 
information. Information that Broots was going to supply him with.

* * * * *

It took nearly two days to organize their plans and to coordinate with 
Sydney and Broots. Wolfling had offered his Hunters for the rescue 
attempt, but Kincaid had turned him down. Alex agreed with him. The 
assault on Spender's estate had needed a sledgehammer, but the high-tech 
security of the Center needed a scalpel. The Hunters would be their 
backup, waiting a mile from the facility to cover their escape, but a 
small group would have the best shot at success.

That group would be Alex, Kincaid and Jarod. Alex wasn't happy about that 
last part, but accepted the necessity. While he'd heard a lot about Jarod 
of the years -- a man who'd escaped from a Consortium lab and had 
proceeded to drive them insane by staying one step ahead of all pursuers, 
taunting them and leading the on a merry chase -- he didn't know the man 
personally. The idea of putting this much trust in a complete stranger 
made Alex nervous. He didn't like being nervous. But Wolfling vouched for 
the man and he'd come to at least accept the big man's advice. Trust was 
still reserved for Mulder alone.

Besides, Mulder was too important to allow his personal feelings to get 
in the way. If the man could help rescue Mulder, he would use him. If he 
became a liability, Alex would get rid of him. If he -- or his pal, 
Sydney -- betrayed them, he would kill them. Not quickly and *definitely* 
not painlessly.

At least he'd managed to keep Scully out of it. She'd tried to insist on 
being part of the rescue, but Alex *definitely* didn't trust her not to 
screw up, if only because she was too occupied with hating his guts. She 
would be waiting with their backup, just in case Mulder needed medical 
attention. He didn't much like that either, but it was the best 
compromise he'd been able to come up with. Personally, he'd like it 
better if she were on the other side of the *world*.

At least the hidden entrance was right where Sydney had promised, and 
there were no cameras or security goons waiting for them. Alex didn't 
relax, but he did breathe a little easier.

The air in the passage was still thick and stale, indicating that it had 
been sealed for a long time. They followed its twists and turns, always 
heading down at a steep angle.

They finally reached the end of the tunnel, a wooden panel that was the 
back wall of a small, unused room. Jarod waved them to a stop.

"Sub-Level Fourteen is mostly storage," he said in a hushed whisper. 
"There wasn't any security there when I was last in the Center. The 
stairwells are a different matter, though. There are security cameras on 
every landing, and they are monitored by guards.

"They won't be a problem is your friends do their job right," Kincaid 
pointed out. Alex said nothing, busy rechecking his guns and various 
concealed weapons.

"They will," Jarod said confidently. "The camera system will short out 
in," he checked his watch, "five minutes. It will take between ten and 
fifteen minutes for the problem to be repaired. That is how long we have 
to get to your friend and get him out. You better be able to move fast."

Alex glanced at him coldly. "Just don't get in my way," was all he said.

Jarod grinned, seeming not to notice the implied threat. "Don't worry. 
But remember, whether we succeed or not, they'll find this entrance and 
plug it. This is a one-shot deal."

Alex just grunted and checked his watch. Four minutes to go. Then he 
grinned quietly and patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. Just 
because they were a scalpel, that didn't mean they couldn't do massive 
damage.

* * * * *

Three days after being left in the abandoned lab by the alien, life had 
settled into a routine for the three members of the Blackwood Project. 
Paul exercised, Suzanne read and Harrison rested and regained his 
strength from his ordeal. And they all fought the mix of boredom and 
anxiety that filled every waking moment, as well as their dreams.

One benefit of the solitude had been that Harrison and Paul had been able 
to indulge themselves in as much love-making as they could physically 
manage, although they tried to be as discreet about it as possible for 
Suzanne's sake. After the first twenty-four hours, the compulsion had 
faded a little and they were actually able to spend several hours at a 
time apart without Harrison zoning.

But the boredom was growing more and more oppressive. Harrison had 
finally become desperate enough to pick up one of the stack of romances 
that Suzanne had finished and was groaning his way through the cliched 
plot and cardboard characters. He was sure that there were good romance 
novels out there, but this definitely wasn't one of them.

Turning the last page, Harrison put down the book and considered 
inflicting another one on himself. Then his nose prickled. His head came 
up and he sniffed the air. There was an unexpected scent of... ozone?

"Paul!" he shouted, climbing to his feet. Across the room, Suzanne 
scrambled to her feet as well.

Paul burst through the door just as a blinding flash of light heralded 
the return of their captor, Katara. She waited until the afterimages had 
faded from their sight before saying, "It is time."

"Time for what?" Paul snapped, stepping protectively in front of both 
Harrison and Suzanne. "You still haven't told us just what you want us to 
do!"

"You will know when the time is right," was the calm answer.

Paul opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, there was a second 
flash of light. When it was done, the room was empty.


TO BE CONTINUED