The Triple Agent Who Came in from the Cold
Book 1; Part 1
By: J Morningstar
Feedback: Please julie_morningstar@yahoo.com
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"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but
World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
~ Albert Einstein
From the cabin porch, he watched the dark clouds roll
in from the west. An early snow, he thought,
shivering slightly. When the storm passed, he would
track a deer through the pristine white. A venison
steak would make a welcome addition to his diet.
Tonight, he would close off the two back rooms, and
after supper, he would curl up in front of the fire
and think over his plans. In the spring, he promised
himself, he would find out what had happened to the
rest of the world.
Some days, the promise of spring was the only thing
that kept him going.
He has always considered himself a solitary soul,
alone in the world. But in the two months since he'd
been here, he learned what real aloneness meant. He
longed for the sight of another human face, yearned to
hear a voice other than his own. It was a startling
realization for a man who had considered himself above
the human emotions of need and want, emotions that
could imprison a person who wasn't careful.
When he'd first arrived here, exhausted and hungry,
his focus had been on regaining his strength and
securing his mountain hideaway. But as the days
turned into weeks, he began to wonder if being the
last soul alive on planet earth was worth the effort
he had put into surviving, into journeying here to
this remote outpost deep in the Appalachian high
country. When the utter and complete aloneness and
the lack of hope that anything would ever change
threatened to overwhelm him, he found himself hiking
the steep paths around his little fortress, or turning
to the low-roofed barn to commune with his animals.
He had a tendency to brood, and melancholy was as much
a part of his natural heritage as it was an intrinsic
element of his temperament. Before the invasion and
the plague, the day-to-day struggle to survive kept
his demons at bay. But here in the solitude of these
ancient mountains, dark thoughts and a multitude of
regrets prayed on his peace of mind.
It was a dark and drizzly morning when he first made
the promise to himself -- the promise to hold on till
spring. He had awakened with a bruising hangover
after spending the previous evening contemplating the
taste of a 9mm bullet while downing several glasses of
vodka. As the events of the night before came rushing
back, he acknowledged how close he had come to ending
it all, and felt real fear. So he had made an oath to
himself. When the frost broke and the winter snows
melted, he would hike out of these mountains, and find
out how much, if anything, was left of the human race.
And then, if there were some spark of humanity left,
he would find a way to help rebuild civilization. It
was the least of what he owed.
The promise of spring was still months away as he took
one last look at the threatening sky, then turned to
enter the cabin, ready to hunker down and ride out the
storm. But a movement across the valley caught his
eye, and he froze, his gaze searching back and forth
across the wooded hillside. There it was again, and
this time he was able to focus on a purposeful
movement between the trees. He mouth fell open in
shock as he realized he was watching two people hiking
down the side of the mountain. His absolute delight
at discovering that he was not alone died a quick and
necessary death as he understood that these two could
be enemies.
In fact, it was more than likely that these two were
exactly that; assassins come to hunt him down. He had
no doubt that his continued survival would be a bitter
defeat to some in spite all that had happened.
The impulse towards life that had been fading in his
lonely solitude grew strong with renewed purpose as he
studied the two intruders, one tall and solid, the
other small and nimble. He quickly gathered what he
needed to repel an assault, then settled into his
lookout. As he watched, the figures stopped to
consult a paper, probably a map. His eyes narrowed as
he considered who else might know of the existence of
this place. Suddenly one pointed directly at him. He
crouched down instinctively, even though he knew there
was no way the intruders could see him. The cabin and
its out-buildings had been cleverly designed to blend
into the surrounding environment. Early on, he had
viewed this piece of ground from every angle, in every
light. He knew it was well camouflaged. He himself
had nearly stumbled past it when he first arrived here
at the height of summer, despite the GPS readout that
told him exactly where it was.
The man forced himself to relax, allowing years of
training to take over. During the long afternoon, he
watched as the intruders struggled through thick
underbrush, forded icy mountains streams and stumbled
across treacherous outcroppings of loose stone. Snow
had begun to fall during the passing hours, but the
man barely noticed. He had dressed in cold weather
gear, he hands and feet cozy and warm, most of his
face hidden behind a ski mask.
As the sun began to set, he started to fidget. It was
long past the time he expected them to arrive in his
little clearing. Finally he decided to take the
offensive. Carefully, stealthily, he moved down the
mountainside, pausing frequently to capture any sight
or sound of his pray.
And there, at the edge of a highland meadow he saw
them. The large intruder lay prone, the smaller one
hovered next to him, shaking the fallen one's
shoulders, talking to him. The man crouched down in
the underbrush, trying to hear what was spoken.
Suddenly, the kneeling intruder pulled his hood back,
and the man gasped out loud. For this intruder had a
head of auburn-colored hair. And when the intruder
looked heavenward, as if beseeching God himself, that
man could see intense blue eyes and porcelain skin.
The man dropped to his seat, too shocked to maintain
his stance. Dana Scully was here, on his mountain.
And she wasn't alone. The thought gave him pause for
one moment, and then he was on his feet.
Damn the risk. It would be good to gaze upon the face
of another.
**********************
She looked up at his approached, but didn't flinch.
Her gaze was wide and unfocused, and she seemed
unsurprised at his sudden appearance. He recognized
the look of exhaustion she wore, he seen it in his own
reflection more than once. He looked down at the man
lying before him and swore softly. Of all the people
she could have dragged to this mountain hideaway, she
had to bring Walter Skinner. The thought that the two
of them had somehow survived and were traveling
together was both intriguing and disturbing. He pushed
those thoughts aside for a time when he could peruse
them at length. The AD was in bad shape and needed
attention now. His lips were blue and he shook
uncontrollably.
Scully snapped out of her stupor to speak. "He
carried me across the river. He's going to die if we
don't get him warm."
The man gazed at her intently, then nodded. "I'll be
back," he said.
A half hour later he returned, leading a packhorse
which pulled a travois. Between them, Scully and the
man rolled Skinner onto the travois. Then the man
turned and lifted Scully onto the horse's back.
Behind the ski mask, the man's eyes widened in
surprise. The red head was clearly pregnant. He
pushed aside the questions that he wanted to ask, and
concentrated shepherding his flock to the warmth and
safety of the cabin.
In the small clearing in front of the cabin's porch,
the man coaxed a shot of whiskey down Skinner's
throat. It roused him enough so that Scully and the
man could lead him into the cabin. He left the two of
them in front the fire while he tended to his horse.
He returned to find Scully, rosy from exertion,
struggling to rid an unconscious Skinner of his sodden
jeans. He quickly doffed his outerwear and joined
her, looking up when heard her gasp.
"It's you." she accused, her laced with shock and
anger.
The man smirked. Scully, it seemed, was quickly
reviving from her fugue state. From beneath thick
dark lashes, deep green eyes twinkled back at her.
"Alex Krycek, ma'am. At your service."
*********************
Continue on to Part 2