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IMPORTANT
NOTE: Whilst this story is inspired by an actually documented UFO
encounter and the news of NASA's recent order to investigate the
reports, all characters and plots are this story are completely
fictitious and nothing more than imaginings of my muse - any
similarity to people living or dead or any events is nothing more
than coincidental.
===============================================================================
KECKSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA
DECEMBER 9th, 1965
6:14 PM
As the wintery Thursday evening drew in and a blanket of clouds
tinted with a myriad of colors unraveled, nine-year-old Josh
Kerstein sang along with The Byrds' 'Turn Turn Turn', which
played on the battered wireless that sat beside him on the large
tree bough and watched as his father locked up their barn for the
night. A large smile widened on his face. Despite the freezing
temperature biting at his body thanks to his mother's ignored
orders to wrap up well, this was the best time of his life:
listening to music and watching his father work.
Randall Kerstein turned, blew into his cupped hands and then
rubbed them together as he looked up toward the heavens, thanking
God for another day of good farming regardless of the weather.
"Pa, we going in now?" the boy called from his perch,
switching off the radio.
The wind picked up as Randy glanced at his son, scratched at the
stubble on his left cheek and smiled. "Yep, I do believe
it's that time. Smells like your mom's cooking up some of
tha--"
Suddenly the ground shook with an inconceivable force, and Josh
slipped from the high branch - only just barely managing to grab
hold with his right hand before he fell to the ground like his
now-smashed radio.
"Joshua!"
The air around them was sucked into a vacuum, the icy temperature
boiled to a simmer, and as the elder Kerstein struggled to catch
his breath and run to his son's aid at the same time, a raging
fireball larger than the family's farm shed hurtled past them at
break-neck speed toward the line of trees on the horizon, where
it crashed with a sonic boom.
...Which was enough to send Josh falling from the tree
completely.
As his world faded to black, he could just barely make out the
voices of his screaming mother and father rushing towards him,
and at least half of the townsfolk hurrying for the woods.
XxXxXxXxX
NASA HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON D.C
DECEMBER 21st, 2007
"What do they know, anyway? Forty years on and they expect
us to do what, exactly?"
The loud, booming voice echoed down the long hallway as the two
men - one suited and one uniformed - hastily made their way along
the black-carpeted floor..
"Stupid, fucking government trying to get on the good side
of crappy, Podunk townies in time for the next election."
Administrator Warren Anderson waved the piece of paper that was
tightly gripped in his right hand in the air, wishing he could
just burn it and forget that it had ever existed.
At the end of October, an order had been passed across Anderson's
desk to open an investigation into sightings of an unidentified
flying object by residents of Kecksburg, Pennsylvania back in
1965. He'd pushed it aside, hoping that it would be forgotten,
but a faceless somebody higher up apparently had other ideas and
he'd received yet another order, clearly stating that if he did
not follow it immediately, it wouldn't be long before he'd be
struggling to find another job and the thirteenth NASA
administrator was being sworn in. With the Christmas rush just
around the corner, and the January shuttle launch in jeopardy due
to numerous technical 'concerns', fulfilling somebody's Twilight
Zone fantasy was far from the top of his 'To Do' list, but if it
was worth threatening his job over, Anderson had no choice but to
obey - no matter how reluctantly.
He stopped, turned to face his second-in-command and thrust the
confidential piece of paper into the shorter man's hands.
"Deal with it," Anderson gritted out, shaking his head
to accentuate his dissatisfaction. "As quickly and quietly
as possible."
The neatly uniformed officer glanced at the order in confusion,
but then clicked his heels together, saluted and barked out
"Yes, sir," without question, and was about to walk
away when suddenly a woman in a lab coat quickly approached from
behind them, calling out Anderson's name.
"Sir, we have a problem," the scientist panted, taking
a deep, cleansing breath before finishing, "The Kecksburg
anomaly..."
"Oh for--... You really do hate me, don't You?" Warren
groaned, exasperated - turning his gaze to the ceiling for a
moment with both hands outstretched in defeat. "Yes, what
about it?" he sighed, looking back at the woman.
She faltered, dissuaded by his apparent temper, and then replied,
hesitantly, "There's been another one."
Anderson struggled to catagorise his new mood - was there even a
category beyond 'pissed off to the max'? "When?" he
almost whined.
"That...That would be the problem, sir."
"You mean *that* wasn't the problem!?"
"The new anomaly crashed in the same woods in Kecksburg two
weeks ago...and..." Dr Catherine Schubert stuttered to a
pause, shooting a cursory glance at the deputy administrator and
finishing, "and has now disappeared from the crash
site."
It was doubtful that everyone within a five mile radius of where
they stood didn't hear Anderson's exclaimed "For fuck's
sake!"
XxXxXxXxX
Mulder and Scully's SUV completed a second circuit of the store's
full car park as they struggled to find a free space. Having gone
from one exhaustive, tumultuous case to another within a matter
of days in the last month, they hadn't had time to even think
about Christmas, let alone shop for the occasion. So now, on the
Saturday three days before the big day, they'd hoped to make a
last-minute attempt at buying in all of their gifts, decorations
and food.
If they could just fight their way through the hordes of weekend
shoppers, carolers, and eager street merchants.
To make things worse, at some point during the busy blur of case
files and hospital visits they'd agreed to have the Scully Clan
over for the festivities, which the partners would have forgotten
about, had it not been for Maggie's phone call late last night -
as they'd finally, literally, dragged themselves into bed - to
check if she needed to bring anything with her, The agents could
live without the lights and formalities of the season in their
own company, but they need to make this a special time for
Margaret in the wake of yet another death in the family - no
matter how long-overdue they believed that particular comeuppance
might have been coming.
"Just one more try," Mulder grumbled, refusing to let
the lazy last-minuters that actually could have been out getting
their supplies whilst they'd been putting their lives on the line
beat him as his sweaty palms clenched a little tighter around the
steering wheel. Dana's Calm streak was far from perfect when it
came to making preparations for family get-togethers, but today
she was relatively relaxed compared to her partner's frantic
disposition.
"Mulder, you said that twenty minutes ago," she sighed,
resting what she hoped would be a soothing hand on his arm.
"Come on, let's go for a coffee, take a break, and then
maybe try another mall."
He shot a glance in her direction, noted the concern etched in
her features, but then shook his head and returned his attention
to the tarmac and gravel. "We can't let your mom and Tara
down--"
"Mom will just be happy that we're there, alive and
well," Scully quickly countered. "One more lap and I
think I'm gonna be ill from motion sickness!"
Once again the male agent diverted his gaze to momentarily study
his partner. Scully gave a wry smile and felt a wave of relief as
she saw the stubborn determination that had been creasing his
features slowly dissipate.
Suddenly there was the sound of screeching tires, and Dana's head
whipped round in time to see a red 1997 Ford F-150 braking to a
halt half-way out of a parking spot not far ahead of them.
"Mulder, look out!"
Thanks to lightning-speed reflexes honed over the years at work,
Mulder's foot slammed on the brake pedal before the whole of her
exclamation registered in his brain or he'd had chance to turn
his own head.
A little surprised by the near-collision, both agents sat still
and watched as the sole occupant of the other vehicle got out the
drivers' side and moved around the rear bumper to approach them.
The man was tall, walked with a limp, and bore a prominent scar
down the right side of his clean-shaven face; there was no sign
of malice in his stance or expression, yet Scully still scrambled
for the holstered gun in the glove compartment nevertheless.
"Hey, sorry about that," Mulder courteously smiled,
winding down his window as the stranger stopped beside him and
bent down to peek in their vehicle.
The other man looked from one agent to the other, shot a shifty
glance over his shoulder to check nobody was watching, and then
turned back to lean further in through their open car window.
"You're M-Mulder and Sc-Scu...Scully, right?" he
stammered.
Memories of an evening almost eleven years ago and a woman
claiming to be Max Fenig's sister interrupting her birthday
celebrations echoed in Scully's mind and she sharply sat up
straight in her seat, tightening her hold on both Mulder's arm
and the gun now concealed under her jacket.
"Yes," Mulder replied skeptically, sensing her unease
and feeling his own paranoia brimming to the surface. "Who's
asking?"
Yet again the man checked behind him for any onlookers before
responding, "M-my name's Josh Ke-Kerstein...I h-have a UFO
f-f-for you..."
A car horn suddenly blared from behind them and Kerstein quickly
raised a hand to shield his face from view of the other drivers.
"M-meet me in the Starb-b-bucks across t-the street in five
minutes i-if you're interested...Please, I d-don't know h-how
much longer I c-c-can hide it from them," he implored, with
a solemn shake of his head before rushing back to his own car and
vacating the lot.
Finally, a free space!
Mulder bit down on his lip and watched the departing pickup truck
as he weighed up their options. He just wanted to pull into the
open lot and do the planned shopping spree as soon as possible so
that they could have a nice, relaxing evening, but his
gut...dammit...His gut instinct was telling him, for some reason,
to find out what the stranger had that was so important.
"Mulder?"
Of course, she knew exactly what he was thinking, and any other
time she probably would have let him, but three days before
Christmas Dana hoped that even Fox Mulder couldn't be lured by
the hint of a case right now.
Without a word, he pulled their Saturn hybrid into the deserted
space and slipped out of the driver's seat - activating the
automatic locking system once his partner had left the vehicle
also, and then pocketing the keys as he walked around the bonnet
to stand beside her.
The driver who'd been impatiently honking his horn behind them,
sped off, shouting expletives at them through the open
passenger-side window as he went.
"You go ahead and I'll catch you up in a couple
minutes," he smiled reassuringly, leaning in to place a kiss
on her cheek.
Scully's hand quickly raised to intercept him, though.
"Please don't say you going to give that guy two seconds of
your time," she exclaimed, pinning him with a scolding
stare. When he didn't try to even lie his way out, she knew the
answer and her frown deepened. "Mulder, we have to put up
with enough crackpots during the year as it is, don't you think
that might actually be a few extra rolling around at
Christmas?"
"You mean besides the one that's standing in front of you
now?" he tried to joke with a goofy grin.
She let out a despondent sigh, shaking her head. "Well, I
guess I can't argue with that..."
"C'mon, I'll just be five minutes. I swear." He started
to bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet, which usually meant
he was about to take flight, no matter how against the idea she
may be. "I don't know why, but something's telling me to
find out what this guy's hiding."
"The same feeling that got us trapped one Christmas Eve in a
house that *wasn't* haunted?"
"Sculleeeee..."
"Oh, for God's sake..." Anybody would have thought he
was a small child begging to see Santa Claus. "Okay. Sure,
fine, whatever," she finally relented. "But *no* cases
until after Mom, Tara and the kids have visited. I can handle an
abbreviated Christmas, but I won't ruin it for them."
With the widest grin imaginable, Mulder swooped in to attempt to
kiss her again and this time she let him, returning the gesture.
He turned and started to quickly wind his way through the parked
vehicles, but slowed down when he suddenly felt her arm slip
through and hook onto his own.
"Miss me already?" came his surprised, puzzled retort.
Dana shook her head and smiled enigmatically, "If you think
I'm letting you loose on your own to get up to mischief, you can
think again. I know you - I'll look away and you'll wind up in
hospital within three seconds with some idiotic injury."
"And...you think I'm how old?"
"It's happened. Need I remind you of last year's drama when
you were entrusted to put up the decorations by yourself? Let's
just find out what this particular nutjob wants, and if you're
good maybe we'll go see Santa after we're done shopping."
"Well, alrighty then!"
XxXxXxXxX
They found Kerstein sitting in the farthest corner of the cafe,
nervously eyeing everyone that entered and exited the building as
if they were out to get him. Scully inwardly chuckled at the
thought - no wonder Mulder felt so drawn to what the stranger was
supposedly offering: they were probably kindred spirits separated
at birth.
The middle-aged man stood to greet them - shaking each of their
hands in turn - but just as quickly sat down again, as if he'd
exposed his location by popping into view above eye-level.
"T-thank you f-f-for coming," he started with a nod of
his head. "You'll have to f-forgive my s-speech... I w-w-was
in an accident when I w-was a k-kid. B-b-banged my brain a
b-bit."
Both agents nodded in acceptance of the apology as they seated
themselves also.
"How do you know who we are, Mr Kerstein?" Mulder
queried, leaning forward slightly onto his elbows to help allay
the older man's paranoia.
"I read an a-article about y-you both in the P-P-Pennsylania
T-Tribune a few y-years back when you investigated s-some alien
abduction c-c-claims...I w-was gonna contact y-you then to
s-share m-m-my story, but I kinda c-chickened o-out," Josh
explained, looking closely from one agent to the other and back
again. "When the second one c-came, though, I-I knew I
h-h-had t-to get to y-you, before they g-got to me."
Mulder shifted uncomfortably on his stool. No invisible deity
would be able to protect him from the wrath of Scully if this had
been a wasted detour from their schedule, and despite his refusal
to regret the decision he'd made to listen to Kerstein, he hoped
the guy started speaking in plain English soon and spat out what
he wanted them to know. "It's been a rough few weeks,
sir," he breathed, wiping a hand across his suddenly-dry
mouth, "so please forgive my stupidity when I ask 'what are
you talking about?'" He felt the sharp pain of Dana's foot
kicking his right shin, but the relieved glance she shot his way
let him know that she'd almost been bursting to ask the exact
same thing.
Kerstein watched the silent exchange between the two agents, but
didn't comment as he elaborated, "I was b-b-born and
br-brought up in K-Kecksburg, Pennsylvania...L-lived there
a-a-all my l-life. B-back in sixty-five a fireball the s-s-size
o-of..." Both of his arms outstretched as wide as they could
go in a grandiose demonstration of the size scale he was
struggling to explain with words. "I-it was almost a-as big
as the f-field at Yankee Stadium... A-anyway, it flew s-straight
past our f-farm and c-c-crashed in the woods w-with such a force
t-that it made me fall out of the tree I-I'd b-b-been watching
m-my dad from..." He gulped and his eyes quickly looked down
and away as he almost whispered, "That w-w-was the last time
I saw--.... Dad calling m-my name as I-I hit t-t-the ground was
t-the l-last time I heard his v-voice..."
XxXxXxXxX
KECKSBURG, PA
DECEMBER 9th, 1965
6:31 PM
The acrid stench of smoke mixed with something less
distinguishable filled the air as plumes of black reached up for
the heavens from the horizon. The fifteen residents of the town
rushing towards the line of trees didn't seem to care about that,
though - one man even waving his wife off when she ran after him
with a gas mask raised in the air.
Randy Kerstein glanced up at the mob, feeling the tug of
curiosity, but then turned his attention back to the prone body
of Josh at his wife's scream.
"My baby!" Jessica wept, falling to her knees and
cradling the boy's head in her lap. Her fingers immediately
started to comb through his hair, but one hand sharply pulled
away only milliseconds later when her skin came in contact with a
warm, steady flow of blood. "Oh, my God! Randall! He's
bleeding!"
Without hesitation, despite how numb and leaden he suddenly felt,
her husband quickly hauled himself to his feet. "Take care
of him. I'm gonna go get Doc Thruxton," he instructed,
turning to make his way north.
"Randall, wait! Just call the operator for an
ambulance!"
He feared for their only child's life as much as his wife, but
she was falling apart, and he knew that one thing they definitely
couldn't do if they wanted to help Josh was lose their heads.
"Jess..." Turning back, he crouched down beside her and
stared into her watery eyes. There were no words to say that
could reassure either of them, but he soothingly sighed,
"That'll take too long. Look, I'll go get Doc from up the
street. I'll be back before you realise I've gone, okay?" At
her slightly whimpered nod, he weakly smiled, placed a gentle
kiss on her forehead and then headed back towards the dirt track
road.
Where he literally ran into Doctor Herb Thruxton, who was also
heading for the woods.
"Doc! I need--"
Thruxton greeted the other man with a slightly impatient smile,
but then grabbed Kerstein's arm and pulled him along with him as
he refused to divert from his destination.
The doctor was an oddity in the small God-fearing town, and only
had interaction with the other residents through his work as a
result. He was what they hatefully called a hippie, with long
hair and non-conformist clothing, and several of the more strict
busy-bodies of the community had even gone to the AMA with their
wild theories and hopes that they could get his medical license
revoked for possession of marijuana, which had repeatedly been
proven as false. He should have suspected that Kerstein's
greeting was for more than sociable reasons, then, but he was so
intrigued by what might have just crashed to earth, that his mind
was too pre-occupied to process anything else, let alone any
logic.
"Yo, Randy! You headed for the crash site as well? Excellent
- I'll walk with you! So, what do you think it is? A plane or an
asteroid?"
"Whuh?" Kerstein, caught off-guard and still trying to
regain his bearings, tried unsuccessfully to pull out of the
other man's grasp as he sputtered out his nonsensical reply.
"You never know, it might be a sign from God!"
"No, you don't understand--"
"Looks like the whole town's going to found out."
"But, Josh--" Suddenly Randall's voice died in his
throat as he found himself looking down into the large crater
that the fireball had made amongst the trees. "Holy mother
of God..."
An eerie silence filled the air as the seventeen souls stood in
awe and fear, staring uncertainly at the large, dark,
acorn-shaped object, which must have measured at least three
meters in diameter at its widest point. Several of the residents
crossed themselves, certain that it was a sign of coming
apocalypse, whilst Mrs. Pitney, the local butcher's wife, passed
out altogether.
"Wow," Thruxton exhaled, letting go of Kerstein's arm
and slowly, carefully climbing his way down the crater's wall
with both arms outstretched in front of him = intoxicated,
instead of repelled, by the blue/black putrid clouds of smoke.
At the back of Randall Kerstein's brain, he knew he should be
running back to his farm and calling the operator, as his wife
had initially begged him to do, but he couldn't stop staring at
the unknown craft and the strange writing engraved around the
base; hypnotized by the ancient pictures as if able to interpret
but not fully process what they were telling him.
The doctor approached ever closer, fingertips literally tingling
as his splayed hands inched nearer to the craft's metallic
surface. The smoke was causing his eyes to water furiously and
his chest to almost seize up from the thick gasses percolating
and suffocating his air passages, yet it was as if there was
something else - a power - taking over his (and everybody else's,
in fact) senses, and he couldn't have turned away even if he'd
wanted to.
Closer, until he was barely a hair's breath away.
Both eyes rolled back into his head and trembling fingers reached
to close the final millimeters.
And a gunshot rang out in the air.
The spell broken, Herb Thruxton fell to the ground like a dead
weight, clawing at his throat and chest in a desperate bid to
reclaim cleansing oxygen that his lungs were long beyond the
point of being able to find or use to any effect.
Randy shook his head, unable to dispel the image of the strange
lines and markings that had seemingly burnt themselves onto the
back of his eyeballs, and struggled to remain standing as a wae
of dizziness wracked his body. Rubbing his temples between
forefinger and thumb, Randy staggered towards the exit of the
woods, only to find his path blocked by an armed soldier dressed
in full combat gear.
"Stop right there!" the other man ordered, immediately
raising his weapon.
At least twenty military personnel swarmed into the clearing,
surrounding the cowering gathering of civilians.
Kerstein would not be deterred, though - he had to get back to
his family, dammit! He'd left them for too long already as it
was. "I have to get back," he rasped out, still barely
able to focus properly.
"Sorry, sir, but you have to stay here. We need to question
you about what you witnessed here today."
Two men in white, protective outfits carrying a boxed-in
stretcher bumped past the farmer and briskly headed to where
Thruxton's body now lay completely lifeless.
"No!" Randall stumbled, but regained his footing and
tried to dodge around the soldier, only to be pushed back and
blocked yet again. "I have to get to my son!" Despite
the headache disorientating him and the armed man forcing him to
stand still, Kerstein had had enough and was ready to do whatever
it took to get away from these woods and back to his injured
son's side. He sucked in a breath, straightened his back, and
stared at the other man for a contemplative moment before
charging ahead as quickly as his still-unsteady legs would allow
on the cold, loose soil.
A struggle ensued as the soldier fought to force Kerstein to the
ground, either by hand or weapon, and the farmer used all the
strength he could muster to wrestle and twist his way out of the
other man's grasp in his bid to make a run for it.
Yet another gunshot rang out.
Except this time it hadn't been a warning shot into thin air.
Kerstein staggered backwards, wide eyes blinking furiously as he
tried to work out what had happened and then looked down at his
blood-drenched hands and clothes. A guttural groan escaped past
his quivering lips as pain worse than anything he'd ever
experienced ripped through his abdomen and he fell to his knees.
The soldier looked on stoically.
*Pa, we going in now?*
"J--...--osh..."
Several of the townsfolk cried out in horror, but they were
quickly hustled away into an awaiting unmarked truck by half a
dozen of the uniformed men whilst the rest continued to secure
the area. Not diverting their attention away from their own work,
the two unknown men in hazmat outfits rushed back past carrying
their own dead body.
As darkness drew in, Kerstein scrabbled at the ground, for the
soldiers legs - anything that could offer help. His weak hands
gained no purchase, though, and he was left to writhe in agony
alone. Josh's last words to him played over and over in his ears,
the strange symbols from the craft flashed behind his eyelids,
but as the pain faded and everything faded to black forever, the
last thing echoing in his mind was the dulcet tone of the song
that had been playing on his son's wireless before the fireball
appeared.
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
XxXxXxXxX
STARBUCKS CAFE, WASHINGTON, D.C
PRESENT DAY
10:13 AM
"Nobody t-talks of the i-i-incident in town m-much anymore -
n-nobody d-dares to - so I don't know a-all the details of w-what
h-happened," the grown-up Josh Kerstein relented, sipping at
his newly-received cappuccino and staring thoughtfully at the mug
for a moment. "I o-only know what t-tales they u-u-used to
tell and t-tiny snippets I've managed to find on t-the internet,
and that somebody d-d-demanded that a-an investigation be
o-opened into it..."
Mulder nodded and glanced at Scully with a raised brow, silently
asking 'Would you think me crazy if I said I believe this guy?'.
When she flashed him a reassuring smile, he let out a sigh of
relief and returned his attention to the older man. They'd both
read in the newspaper about the orders NASA had received, but
hadn't had the time or energy to give it much thought due to
their workload.
"All I d-d-do know for c-certain i-is that two w-weeks ago,
very early in t-t-the morning, something a-almost identical to
w-what the reports s-say crashed in a-almost the e-exact same
spot," Josh finished, looking up and staring at them both
seriously. "I d-don't t-think anybody knows what h-happened
as they were p-pretty much all in bed...B-but I was up and s-saw
it...So I d-dug my pa's old gas m-mask out, took the t-truck up
t-t-to the woods...and collected it...Hid it in the family
b-barn." He paused, surveyed their surroundings once again
and then reached inside his coat pocket to pull out a Polaroid,
which he handed to the male agent.
Wondrous silence fell as the two FBI agents stared disbelievingly
at the photo of a large acorn-shaped metallic structure.
"Why...Why would you risk your security - your life - by
taking and hiding this?" Mulder finally asked, needing to
cough to clear his suddenly raw throat. He himself had taken many
chances and risks over the years in his search for the truth
which had cost both he and Scully highly, but even he knew that
there would be far too much at stake if he ever did what Kerstein
had done by concealing this supposed UFO from the government.
"Surely you realise that sooner or later they'll figure out
that something did land and then they'll come looking."
Sensing the concern in his voice and instinctively understanding
where his thoughts had wandered to, Dana rested a hand on
Mulder's knee under the table.
"Agent M-Mulder, I have no f-f-family. From that day u-until
the day she d-died, m-m-my mother made it a d-daily c-chore to
d-drum it into me that Pa put his curiosity before the life of
his only son - she n-n-never forgave him. I d-don't know how he
e-ended u-u-up in those woods, and I know I never will, but I
n-never believed her - I guess even something like t-that can't
stop a kid looking up to his father."
Once again Scully gave Mulder's knee a gentle, reassuring
squeeze.
"My d-dad died, and if it's b-b-because of w-whatever
they're t-trying to cover-up, I need to e-expose it. You were the
o-only people I c-c-could come to."
A solemn, thoughtful pause, and then Mulder raised to his feet.
"Would you excuse us, please, Mr Kerstein, whilst my partner
and I speak in private?" he asked, outstretching an arm to
rest a guiding hand on Scully's back when she stood also.
"O-of course..."
"I know what you're thinking, Mulder," Scully started
when they were finally out of earshot, "and despite my
logical reservations, any other time I wouldn't argue with you,
but in three days time we've got three expectant bodies going to
be turning up on our front doorstep, and I, for one, am not going
to be the one to leave them out in the cold. Are you?" That
was an unfair low blow, and she quickly retracted it by adding,
"Do you realise how much trouble he can get in? How much
trouble *we* could get into if we're caught helping him? And what
are we even supposed to do about it?"
Mulder stared at her for a long moment, surprised by her words
and question. "What has it ever been about, Scully?" he
queried earnestly, never breaking eye-contact. "Finding and
exposing the truth. If there's proof--"
"And what if there isn't? Look" - she reached for his
hand and held on to it tightly - "you know I'll follow you
no matter what - that whatever the risk, every battle we fight
will be together. But I don't want to put either of us in the
firing line for the sake of one craft that the conspirators will
easily deny the existence of and sweep under the carpet within a
matter of hours." She saw the mixture of acceptance and
denial warring for dominance in his eyes, and realized she was
losing. "I saw that photo too, Mulder, and as a scientist I
want the answers as well, but be honest with me: does that really
sound worth it to you? That man has nothing to lose and
retribution to gain, but we--"
"--have to do our jobs." He'd already made up his mind.
No amount of arguing would change it now. "I get what you're
saying, Scully - I do," the tall agent finally sighed,
shaking his head slightly. He knew he was being stubborn, but he
felt like he'd passed the point of backing down and his mind was
too set on the idea of finally having something to show for their
work in the paranormal field. "I'm just as tired and cold
and ready for some rest as you are, but this could be the
credibility we're looking for. Surely you, as a scientist, want
some answers to rationalise what that thing might be? All we have
to do is go, take some pictures and surface scrapings and other
evidence for analysis, and then we can be back home by tomorrow
afternoon - plenty of time to do our shopping and relax before
the festivities kick in."
There were those pleading puppy-dog eyes again, and Dana cursed
herself for still not being able to resist their pull after all
these years.
"Okay," she finally relented, closing her eyes in
disbelief that she'd let the words pas her lips. "But if
we're not back in D.C tomorrow, you can explain it all to
Mom."
"It won't come to that, I swear."
They were on the road, headed for Pennsylvania within the hour,
following Kerstein's pickup in their SUV.
XxXxXxXxX
NASA HEADQUARTERS
12:56 PM
As snow lightly smattered against the window of his office, head
administrator of the organization Warren Anderson disconnected
yet another conference call and shifted in his chair to scratch
at the annoying itch just above the center of his left butt
cheek.
Typical that someone would pick that exact moment to knock at his
office door and then enter without verbal admittance.
"What the hell?" Anderson growled, quickly withdrawing
his hand out from the seat of his pants. "D' you wanna,
maybe, try that again and actually wait for me to say 'come in'
this time?"
The intruding scientist adjusted her glasses and whispered an
apology, but didn't seem to be in any rush to do as he'd ordered.
Instead, she handed him a file folder. "My apologies, sir,
but this is urgent. We have managed to locate the second
Kecksburg fallen angel, and a team have been sent to
investigate."
Anderson shot out of his leather chair - bloodshot eyes almost
popping as they snapped wide open. "You mean it really does
exist?" he almost choked out. Up until now he'd considered
the whole investigation order a waste of the administration's
time and resources - believing the claims of a crashed UFO just
another in a million made-up sensationalist tales about aliens
that appeared in the tabloids each week. When Dr Schubert gave a
subtle nod of her head, Anderson exhaled a deep breath and looked
through the folder she'd given him. "Do we have any idea
what it actually is yet?"
"No, sir. As I said, a team are en route to the site."
"Good. Good..." He paused, wiped a hand across his
mouth. "Let me know when there's any more news."
"Yes, sir."
With that, Schubert left the office, quietly shutting the door
after her.
Warren watched her departure and then picked up his phone,
pressing the first speed dial button on the keypad. He only
needed to wait one ring before the other end of the line picked
up. "It's me," he simply announced into the receiver.
"We have it."
"You better, because they're on their way," a deep,
foreign voice boomed back, causing the hairs on the back of
Anderson's neck to stand erect, "and we can't have them
going anywhere near it."
XxXxXxXxX
"Gonna give me any clues what you got me for Christmas,
then, G-man?" Scully chuckled, shifting into a more
comfortable position in the car seat so that she could stare at
her partner.
It had been a relatively quiet, pleasant drive, and there were
only a handful of miles to go. At one point the car heater had
packed in and they'd had to freeze for at least an hour before it
decided to kick in again, but that had pretty much been the only
eventful point in the journey - both too busy wondering if they
would truly be able to expose the truth of a real UFO crashing to
earth, and how much (if at all) it would affect their jobs if
they did.
"Something black and sexy," Mulder smiled
enigmatically, keep his eyes on the road.
"One of your porn videos?" she snorted with a mixture
of mock shock and hurt. "Really, Mulder, you shouldn't
have!"
"Well, you've ruined it for yourself - there's no point you
having it now you know what it is."
They both laughed companionably as Dana swatted his arm. They
were exhausted and car trips always seemed to have that ability
of sapping every last ounce of energy from their very bones, but
this was nice...relaxing.
Kerstein's truck, a little further on ahead, took the turn off
the interstate, and Mulder did likewise.
"Besides, it'd be no fun if I gave you clues," he
continued, briefly diverting his eyes away from the road to shoot
a wry smile in her direction. "I mean, would you give me
clues about what you've bought for me?"
"Who says I've gotten you anything?"
The remark definitely made him turn his attention away from the
road, and he glanced at her to see the playful glint in her eye.
"You're an evil woman, Dana Scully. Does that make me a
masochist for loving you?"
"It's a start," she replied dryly, shifting even more
in her seat. "The only clue I'll give is that it's not
black."
"But 'sexy' is still involved?" Damn, why did she have
to be this playful when he was driving and had to keep his
attention on something other than her?
She rolled her eyes and both lips thinned into a straight line as
she held back a smile. He was starting to get a little antsy, and
if the growing bulge in his pants was anything to go by, he was
one more innuendo away from stopping the car and having his way
with her on the side of the road, so she sobered and nestled
against him - sleepy despite the afternoon hour.
*Now there's a Christmas package I'll never tire of unwrapping,*
she inwardly sighed, indulging herself with another glance at his
crotch. Whoever said love couldn't last forever had definitely
never known Mulder.
Their SUV passed the Kecksburg town line half an hour later and
pulled in at Kerstein's farm five minutes after that, only to be
confronted by two men in black suits and half a dozen military
personnel, who were forcing Josh out of his Ford pickup. Mulder
holstered his gun and flicked a quick, wary glance at his partner
before switching off the ignition.
"Get out of the vehicle now!" one of the soldiers
ordered, running towards their car with his weapon aimed and
ready should they make a wrong move.
"Nice manners they have around here," the male agent
deadpanned with a raised brow as he exited the hybrid.
"I'd stop worrying about their manners and start worrying
about how to not let this get out of control," Dana warned
in reply.
They both moved around to stand in front of the vehicle with
their hands slightly raised - the soldier intently tracking their
every step as one of his colleagues came up behind him.
"Wait! Stop!"
Scully diverted her gaze at the sound of Kerstein's panicked
voice to see him being man-handled into the back of a green jeep.
"Where are you taking him?"
"No questions, unless you wanna go along with him," the
first soldier snarled.
Mulder shrugged, "Depends...Do we get free room
service?"
Agitated, the soldier sharply raised his weapon and pointed it at
the taller man. "Why I oughta--"
"Well, well, well. I guess I shouldn't, but I'm actually
quite surprised to see you here. Really, Agent Scully, you need
to tighten Fox's leash a little more."
The agents felt a chill run down their spines and they
straightened up as they heard the familiar voice and saw a thin
trail of smoke escape through the barn's entrance. When CGB
Spender emerged shortly after, Mulder took an angry step forward
but was instantly pushed back by the uniformed man.
"You son of a bitch," Mulder heard Scully curse under
her breath beside him before she called out, "Maybe if you
didn't keep giving us the run-around he wouldn't need a leash at
all."
Spender beamed and took another drag on his cigarette as he
approached. It had been a while since he'd seen them due to
numerous circumstances and the number of branches that had
unexpectedly started to sprout within the conspirators' circle,
thanks to Strughold's meddling that he was looking forward to
having a little fun here. "Of course. Besides, I suppose
it's difficult to keep an eye on him when you're busy killing
your brother. Congratulations on that, by the way - it was about
time Charlie faced a little retribution..."
Mulder had heard enough and lunged at the smoking man. The
soldier struck the agent with his fist, hard, but the FBI agent
refused to be deterred and made another move for the smoker, so
this time the commando used the butt of his rifle, to more
effective results.
"Mulder!" Scully dropped to her knees beside her fallen
partner and examined his bleeding lip and nose. He tried to wave
her off, but too much movement and change in expression caused
pain to tear across his face so he let her go about her
examination, wondering if there ever would be a Christmas when he
wouldn't be high on Demerol for a majority of the festive season.
The wind picked up, blasting them all with its icy chill as the
smoking man looked up to the sky. "It's a shame that you
made such a long journey for no reason," he idly remarked.
"But then, I never would have pegged either of you to aid
and abet a conspirator against the US government to conceal
something of national security."
"There's a nice example of hypocritical irony," Mulder
ground out, cupping a hand over his nose as he shakily raised to
his feet with the support of his partner. "We want to expose
it for what it is. You're the ones that want to hide the
truth."
"And what do you think it is, exactly?" Spender turned
his focus on the petite red-head. "Agent Scully?"
She faltered, and Mulder understood why. Despite all she'd
experienced over the years and what she had seen in Kerstein's
photo, there was no way she would ever openly call it a UFO until
she had collected and examined every piece of scientific evidence
to prove it. And he expected that from her - he wished she would
bend to his way of thinking sometimes, but Scully wouldn't be
Scully unless she looked for the logical explanation to all his
wild theories, and she certainly wouldn't be able to keep him as
honest and anchored as she always had if she did things
differently.
"Do you think it's a flying saucer from outer space?"
"I think it's something important enough for you to hide
from us," she finally piped up, never letting go of her
partner's arm as she sent a scowling glare in Spender's
direction. "Something you think is important enough to kill
for."
"It wouldn't surprise me if you were the one behind the
cover-up of the original crash," Mulder added in agreement.
Spender shook his head and took a slow drag on his Morley before
dropping it to the ground and stubbing it out. "Actually, no
I wasn't. The man you respected and trusted as your informant
many years ago was, though."
"You're a liar!" the injured agent exclaimed, making
yet another unsuccessful lunge at the smoking man. Maybe there
had been more to Deep Throat than he'd known, but he wasn't ready
to play Spender's mind games.
"Perhaps. But is my claim any more believable than some
farmer's ranting about a downed spacecraft? You believed him
enough to make the four-and-a-half hour drive on the weekend
before Christmas, so why won't you believe me?"
"Because you're full of shit," Dana spat out.
The second soldier raised his gun and Mulder moved to protect
her, but CSM waved the military man down with a satisfied smile,
pleased that he'd managed to pull the reaction out of them that
he'd been waiting for.
"We all have to abide by a chain of command, Agent Scully.
*All* of us. And on that particular day, the man you called 'Deep
Throat' drew the short straw."
Dana's frown deepened. "So, you admit something did crash
here in '65?"
"I admit nothing," Spender replied smugly, reaching for
yet another cigarette. "My plausible deniability card hasn't
run out yet."
"What's going to happen to Kerstein?" Mulder queried.
The pain radiating from the center of his face was starting to
make his eyes water, and he didn't know how much longer he could
stay conscious if he didn't get any medical help and some good
meds soon.
"We're just going to talk to him...smooth out a few facts
about what he may or may not have seen."
"Deceive, inveigle and obfuscate all over again, you
mean."
"You believe you know all the answers, Fox, but think: what
would happen if the truth about something like this really was
exposed? Two reports in exactly the same place forty-two years
apart? There would be mass panic, countries would go to war for
possession of the craft, and worlds would collide. You think
people knowing your truth would make everything flowers and
rainbows and peaceful." Spender paused and glanced up at the
cloudy sky briefly as the sound of spinning rotor blades neared.
"It goes much deeper than that, and if you had to make the
choices I have for this world we would have already been
re-colonized by Them long ago."
A large, black helicopter cut through the low cloud cover and
landed not far from the barn, which the two men in black were
locking up.
"It was here, wasn't it?" Scully blinked against the
updraft of leaves, dirt and hay as she and her partner watched
Spender back away.
The smoking man shrugged dismissively and then, without another
word, got into the chopper, followed by the mysterious suited
men.
The first soldier glared at the two agents and took another swing
at Mulder that only hit air before making his way to the parked
jeep with his colleague in tow.
Awkward silence fell as the 'copter and jeep made their speedy
retreats...
...And remained for several minutes after.
Scully was the first to move into action, reaching to examine
Mulder's injuries more closely, but once again he impatiently
waved her off and stomped over to the closed barn doors –
un-holstering his gun as he did so. She watched him, worried
about his intentions, and then chased after him when she saw him
raise the weapon and aim it at the padlock between the two large
doors.
"Mulder, no," she begged, running up behind him and
resting a soothing hand between his shoulder blades. "Let's
just leave it and go home. There's nothing more we can do - you
heard him."
He shook his head and kept the gun steady. "I have to
know," he mumbled, choking back the blood clogging his
airway. "*We* have to know." He hesitated and glanced
over his shoulder at her longingly. "...Don't we?" As
always he was putting everything in her hands and waiting for her
answer before he took the final step.
She stared at his face - the closed right eye that was beginning
to swell and bruise, the blood flowing from his purpling nose and
lower lip - and gave a slow but firm nod. "We do," she
almost whispered, letting the palm of her hand warm his back even
through his thick winter jacket.
Two sure shots decimated the padlock, and one kick sent the
entrance flying open...
To reveal nothing more than a few bales of hay.
Exhausted, cold, defeated and in excruciating pain, Mulder
lowered the gun to his side, let it slip from his fingers, and
then dropped to his knees. Scully followed him down and cradled
him in her lap as she dialled 911,
"It's gonna be okay," she sighed, combing her fingers
through his hair as she also felt the crushing blow of defeat
begin to sink in.
They'd come so close to finally holding some credibility for the
work they did in their hands. Regardless of her reservations
concerning the trip, she had put as much hope in his belief as
she'd once put in the possibility of a scientific breakthrough
with Anson Stokes: The Invisible Man. Maybe the only truth they
would ever be allowed to know was that no matter how much of it
there actually was, they would never be able to hold any proof
whatsoever.
"It's okay..."
XxXxXxXxX
Anderson picked up the phone on the second ring, wiping a sweaty
hand down his pale face. He'd just received word of the missing
status of the crashed craft, and knew his superiors would not be
reacting well.
"They got to it first," the voice at the other end of
the call stated without any hint of a question. "We'll have
to officially call off the investigation into the original
incident."
"B-but what do we tell them? The public will want answers...
Hell, I'd like to know what the fuck is going on."
"Tell the truth as far as we know it: nothing was found.
Make the shuttle launch your priority. No one can overpower these
men, so we shall have to deal as usual."
The administrator hesitated. He'd been handed an order to
investigate the 1965 reports, but suddenly it felt as if the
recent event was the real one he should've been focusing on and
sooner. "You knew about this when you sent me the
file," he slowly remarked, a little accusatorily. "Why
didn't you tell me about the second crash earlier?"
"NASA could not know - the courts were after information
about the past event, so that was all you needed to know about.
Anything else you had to learn yourself. We had hoped the farmer
would be able to protect it for longer, but obviously that was
not the case. Happy holidays, Anderson."
The line sharply disconnected and a confused Warren remained
standing with the receiver in his hand for at least three minutes
before resting it back in its cradle. With a deep sigh of
frustration he picked up the file from his desk, gave it one
final look over and then dropped it into the waste paper basket
beside his desk.
XxXxXxXxX
DECEMBER 10th, 1965
12:12 AM
"You're still here, then?"
At the sound of his approaching friend's voice, the man who would
many years later come to be known as Deep Throat turned and
greeted Spender with a nod of his head. "I hear the
negotiations were settled quickly?" he asked, pulling a
lighter from his coat pocket and offering it.
"The most awkward and unpleasant negotiations can sometimes
be settled within minutes, Ronald," CSM replied
prophetically, accepting the item and using it to light a Morley.
"But they were?"
"Eventually... That's why I'm here." Spender paused,
exhaled a puff of smoke and then gestured toward the lights that
had suddenly appeared amongst the line of trees.
Without a word they both made their way to the clearing in the
woods where the downed spacecraft had come to life.
"So, they get the body and the craft, and we get...?"
Deep Throat asked, tightening the tie on his trench coat and
watching as the top half of the acorn-shaped object begun to
rotate.
"Peace of mind and the ability to keep the line of
communication open with them."
It didn't seem like a fair trade that the Syndicate would
normally give in to, but Deep Throat guessed there must be some
kind of reasoning this time and didn't push the subject any
further.
The whirring noise emanating from the craft gained in volume and
the lights brightened in intensity until the whole thing finally
dislodged itself from the frozen earth. Both men covered their
ears and watched as the UFO shot up into space at break-neck
speed, leaving a glowing vaporous trail in its wake across the
sky - never to be seen again.
Or so they hoped.
XXXXXXXXXX
THE END
DISCLAIMER:
The X-Files, Mulder, Scully, CSM and Deep Throat remain property
of Chris Carter and are used here without permission - I make no
money from writing this and no infringement is intended.
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