Naraka - Part Two
by Raj Sisodia

E-mail: seek2reveal333@aol.com
     

July 19th 2012 
Boston, Massachusetts 
9:34 p.m. 

The sniper was still waiting in his hide-site on the rooftop
opposite the Oak Hill Suites motel, the AE MKIII primed and
ready. 

He was peering through the sight, watching as the redhead lay
on the bed. She wasn't asleep. Her eyes were open as she peered
dreamily up at the ceiling. He began adjusting the focus on his
sight, to get a slightly better look at her, when his encrypted cell
phone began buzzing on silent. He'd placed the phone beside
the rifle-stock for easy access. He snatched it up and answered
the call. 

"Are you in position?" his handler asked brusquely. 

"Yes." 

"And both targets are in sight?" 

"No," the sniper said, trying to conceal the note of concern in
his voice. "The tall guy left a few minutes ago. The woman's
alone." 

There were a few seconds of silence on the line, and for a
moment the sniper thought he'd be ordered to hold his position. 

"Take the shot," his handler said calmly. 

Dana Scully lay on the bed, gazing up at the fan spinning lazily
on the motel ceiling. Her mind and her entire body were filled
with a strange elation, a wonderful exuberance. The revelations
that Doggett had shared with her a few minutes ago were
buzzing profoundly through her mind. 

Something had shifted within her. It felt like the past had finally
released her, like she was no longer its slave. She hadn't tried to
harm herself or her child that night. All these years she had
believed a delirium-induced fantasy. As she peered up at the
ceiling her eyes were still wet with tears of gratitude. 

And then, for the briefest moment, an image of Melissa flashed
in her mind's eye. Missy's eyes were dark, full of worry, and
then Scully heard her sister's voice in the room with her - clear
as a bell. 

*Get up, Dana.* 

Scully bolted upright with utter shock and disbelief. In the next
instant the pillow she'd just been resting on exploded, blasting
downy feathers in all directions. 

Scully's dreamy elation was instantly swallowed by terror as her
gaze snapped to the window, at the sight of a small hole
punched neatly through the glass. Adrenaline flooded her system
as she hurled herself sideways off the bed, away from the
window - and something hot seared her shoulder. She screamed
and collapsed awkwardly on the floor, on the left side of the
room, as two holes were punched into the wall only a foot above
her head. She screamed again as twin blasts of plaster-dust
erupted from where the bullets had made contact. 

Her heart was slamming in her chest. Someone was *shooting*
at her. She scrambled round, pressed her head against the side of
the bed and glanced at her stinging right shoulder. There was a
perfectly straight line of red welted skin where the bullet had
passed so close that it had super-heated the air and flash-burned
her. 

*"Christ,"* Scully muttered, her heart pounding fiercely. In the
next moment she heard the window shatter and felt two shots rip
into the mattress above her. 

She swallowed her terror and tried to think like an FBI agent
again. She hadn't heard the sound of the actual shots, which
meant the shooter was using a suppressor - which meant nobody
in the building even realized what was happening right now. Her
entire body shimmered with adrenaline and fear as she realized
she was on her own. 

Her gaze swept over to her handbag just beyond the foot of the
bed, where she had casually tossed it after her call with Doggett.
Her phone was in that bag, but it was in full view of the
shattered window - in full view of the shooter's range. 

Scully swallowed again, her mouth and throat as dry as
sandpaper. She twisted round and began crawling on her
stomach towards the bag. She needed to be really, really quick. 

A split-second before she was about to lunge for it, the bag
exploded. She cried out, pressed her eyes shut and whipped her
face away. 

When she finally found the resolve to open her eyes again she
peered hopelessly at the shredded leather remains of the bag, at
the shattered pieces of plastic, glass and circuit-boards from her
decimated phone. Tears were in her eyes now. Her breath was
shallow and frantic. If she went for the door, she was dead. She
was trapped, and the shooter had turned the motel room into a
kill-box. 

With her heart thumping beneath her ribs she squeezed her eyes
shut and tried to picture Mulder's face. 
                     

* 
            
Cambridge, Boston 
9:39 p.m. 

A cold, black fear had gripped Mulder as he peered at the
bounty hunter sitting beside him in the driver seat of the silver
BMW. 

The entity's muscular bulk and dark, impassive eyes were more
than intimidating. Although the thing looked like a man, and
spoke like a man, Mulder was well aware that it was not a man.
It was more lethal than any man could ever be. 

With his mouth dry, Mulder began, "Are...are you...going to kill
me now?" 

He wondered if everything it had just told him about being a
 resistance-fighter' was a lie. The thing dressed in the black
flight-suit stared hard at him, and for a moment Mulder thought
he saw the hint of a half-smile play across its lips. 

"If I wanted to kill you, Fox, I would have let you die out on the
ice years ago." 

Mulder's mind flashed with awful, fearful recognition. 

*"You,"* he muttered. "On the sub in the arctic; that...that was
*you.*" 

"Yes." 

Mulder stared at it, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a
snarl. "You told me my sister was *alive.* You lied to me. And
then you threw me out onto the ice and left me to die..." 

The thing's eyes remained cold. "I gave you a fighting chance, a
reason to continue. I saved you." 

Gritting his teeth, Mulder hissed, "You let me think she was
*alive*...when you knew damn well she was dead." 

"Yes. To fortify you. The others of my kind would have killed
you that night." 

The anger and fear and clashed inside him. Eventually, Mulder
pressed his face into his hands and murmured, *"Jesus..."* 

Quietly, the thing in the driver seat said, "I would not put my
faith in a two-thousand year old demigod if I were you." 

Mulder found himself chuckling bitterly at the words. He peered
up again at the  man' in the black flight-suit. 

"What the hell *are* you?" 

For a long time the entity peered silently at him. Finally it said,
"We are not what you think we are." 

Mulder scowled. "What the hell does that mean?" 

The bounty hunter continued to peer at him with those cold,
dark eyes. Beneath his anger Mulder was unnerved and still
afraid. 

"You call us *alien,*" it said quietly, "But you are intimately
familiar with us, as we are with you." 

"I don't know what that means." 

"It means we are bonded at fundamental levels. Our races are
spiritually connected." 

Mulder frowned with surprise at the thing's use of such emotive,
evocative language. For some reason it made him all the more
afraid of the thing sitting in the driver seat. 

"You must remember what I have told you, Fox. You cannot
allow Labyrinth to acquire this Purity Stalker. You must find it
before they do." 

Mulder took a long breath and then said through clenched teeth,
"Then what?" 

"And then it must be killed." 

"And what if we fail...?" 

"I have told you what will happen. Labyrinth will humiliate the
Colonists into abandoning the timetable. The invasion will
begin. And everything that you know will end." 

Suddenly the thing shoved a folded piece of paper into his hand.
"Take this. It may help you. Now, get out of the car." 

Mulder swallowed fearfully and glanced down at the folded note
in his hand. He couldn't accept what this thing was telling him.
"I...I can't do this," Mulder faltered. "I don't...we don't even
have a place to start looking..." 

The entity just peered at him. "I have given you a place to start
looking. Now get out of the car before I kill you, Fox..." 

Staring into the thing's eyes, Mulder realised the threat was
entirely serious. He shoved open the passenger door, leapt out
and began sprinting away from the car as fast as humanly
possible. 

                     
* 
             
Oak Hill Suites 
10:04 p.m. 

Mulder had tried to call Scully whilst running full-pelt through
Boston's night-time streets, but for some reason the call wasn't
connecting. An almost pre-cognitive fear had gripped him.
Something was wrong. Somehow, Scully was in danger. He
could feel it in his gut. 

Dripping with sweat, he hurried into the motel reception and
flashed his key with the numbered plastic card at the woman
behind the counter. She shot him a quizzical look before
nodding and returning to the magazine she was reading. 

Mulder didn't wait for the elevator. He pounded up the stairwell
to the third floor, sprinted down the corridor and threw open the
door to their room. 

The window had been shattered. Pillow-feathers and mattress-
stuffing drifted lazily around the room in the breeze. A beat of
pure terror went through him when he realized that Scully lying
was on the floor beside the bed. But her head snapped round in
his direction, her eyes bulging as she cried, *"Get down!"* 

Instinctively, Mulder dropped to the floor and scrambled
towards her. The realization that somebody had been shooting
into the room had already gripped him. He took her face in his
hands and saw the fear in her eyes. 

"Shooter," she said shakily. "On the roof of the next building..." 

Mulder's heart was pounding. He was already checking her for
injuries. 

"I'm ok," she murmured, sounding like she was trying to
convince herself more than him. 

When Mulder was certain that she hadn't been hit, he pulled her
close and buried her face against his chest. She was trembling
against him. Finally she pulled away and peered into his eyes as
a tentative, incongruous smile spread across her face. 

"Oh, God, Mulder...I had it *all wrong.* It didn't happen that
way..." 

With his heart still thudding in his chest, Mulder wondered for a
moment if Scully was babbling, if she was still in shock - but
her eyes seemed lucid and resolute. There was a strength and
fire in her eyes that Mulder didn't understand. But she was
unharmed; she was safe, thank God. 

Mulder pulled her close again, holding her in silence for almost
a minute, trying to process his simultaneous relief and rage.
Finally he said, "Scully...I think the shooter's gone. If he was
still there he would've shot me the moment I stepped into the
room." 

Scully pulled away and peered into his eyes again. Eventually
she nodded. 

Taking a deep, uncertain breath, Mulder climbed to his feet - in
full view of the broken window. He wasn't cut down
immediately. 

"Just stay down for a second," he told Scully, and stalked over
to the window frame. He peered across at the roof of the next
building. It was hard to tell against the blackness of the night
sky, but there were no signs of a figure on the roof, no tell-tale
glint of moonlight catching a rifle-barrel or a back-lit silhouette. 

Mulder finally allowed the relief to wash through him
completely. He hurried back to Scully and helped her to her feet. 

"We're safe, for now," he told her. 

Scully seemed relieved too, but her eyes were full of life. "Let's
get the hell out of here, Mulder..." 

Together they hurried through the corridor, down the stairwell
and back into the motel reception. 

"Call the police," Scully barked at the woman behind the
counter. "Somebody was just shooting at me through one of the
windows upstairs..." 

The woman chuckled nervously, stared for a moment at Scully's
expression before muttering, *"Holy shit..."* 

Scully glanced at Mulder, her eyes burning with strange
intensity, before the two of them stepped out of the motel and
into the street. Mulder realized that something had shifted
within his partner. Despite what she'd just been through, her
eyes seemed alive in a new way. Mulder felt a sudden rush of
tentative hope moving through him. It felt weird and out of
place after the terrifying nature of what had just happened to
her, after what the bounty hunter had told him, and he didn't
fully understand it - but it thrilled him. Side by side they hurried
towards where they had parked the rental car. 
                     
                    
* 
                
10:26 p.m. 

Mulder was driving, with Scully in the passenger seat beside
him. As Scully listened with a ravenous expression he began
telling her about his encounter with the bounty hunter. 

With wide eyes, Scully muttered, "Damn, Mulder, you must've
been terrified. He called this thing a biologically-engineered
combat-unit? A *Purity Stalker?*" 

Mulder nodded. "To assist resistance-fighters against invasion
ground-troops..." 

Scully gently shook her head in awed disbelief. *"Jesus..."* 

"That's not the craziest part, Scully. He said that if Labyrinth
gets their hands on this thing they're going to open some kind of
communication to the Colonists..." 

Scully frowned. "But...what does that mean?" 

"He said that if the Colonists learn that a Purity Stalker exists,
and that Labyrinth has one, it'll be a humiliation...and...they'll
abandon the timetable for colonisation." 

Scully frowned even harder. "Wait, I don't understand..." But as
she thought about it her eyes widened in horror. The strange
new energy that Mulder sensed in her was consumed by this
new realisation. 

"Oh my God...he's saying that...that colonisation will *begin?
Now?*" 

Mulder looked at her and nodded. 

Quietly, fearfully, Scully said, "This cannot be happening,
Mulder..." 

"I think it *is* happening, Scully. I saw that look in his eyes. I
believed him." 

Scully pressed a hand to her forehead, in fear and disbelief. "I...I
don't know how to process this..." 

After a few moments, Mulder asked her, "What happened back
there, Scully? You seemed different." 

She peered at him, as if deciding whether this was the right time
to tell him. Eventually she said quietly, "What I told you in
Bethesda six weeks ago...about the drinking...and putting the
gun to my head...wanting to kill myself and the baby. *None of
it happened.*" 

Mulder felt a lump in his throat. "What...what do you mean?" 

"I finally called Doggett, and I told him about that night. But he
was there with me. None of it happened like how I thought it
did. I was delirious, like in Bethesda. After your funeral I
eventually stopped eating and sleeping. I was out of my mind.
But I didn't drink that night. I didn't try to harm myself or the
baby. Doggett was with me the whole time. He took care of
me." 

Tears began rolling silently down Scully's face, but they weren't
tears of pain. "Mulder, all these years I've believed a fantasy. I
felt *so* guilty, so ashamed. And none of it happened like I
thought it did. I'm...I'm *free.* All that guilt...it's...it's *gone.*" 

Mulder slowed the car, pulled onto the curb and killed the
engine. He realized tears were rolling silently down his face too.
He was struck by the strangeness of this moment. The bounty
hunter had just told him the sky was about to fall, Scully had
almost been shot to death in their motel room - and all Mulder
could feel right now was an intense, overpowering joy. He
couldn't hold it back any longer, and before he knew it he was
crying and laughing...and Scully was reaching over, embracing
him. And his face was pressed against her breast. He felt
childlike and vulnerable, and he didn't care. 

"Christ, this is *intense,*" he murmured, and then Scully was
crying and laughing with him. 

Eventually he pulled away and stared into Scully's eyes. 

Softly she told him, "You were angry at me because you never
gave up on me, Mulder. You never stopped believing in me. I
just...I stopped believing in myself." 

Mulder nodded, sniffed and wiped away the tears with the back
of his hand. He took a long, deep breath, smiling at her. 

"Now I'm terrified and elated at the same time," she said quietly
as her expression became more serious. 

Mulder nodded again, taking another deep breath. He knew as
well as she did that they couldn't indulge themselves in this
relief for too long. If they allowed themselves to get too giddy
with their own private triumph they would lose focus on the task
at hand - and everything might come crashing down around
them. 

Mulder knew in his gut that the threat was all too real. As he
peered intently at Scully he could already feel the atmosphere
between them becoming more solemn and sober. 

"So," Scully said quietly, as if reading his mind, "We're deep,
deep in the X Files again. This thing, this Purity Stalker, is still
out there. And if Labyrinth gets to it first all hell is going to
break loose?" 

*"Hell on Earth,"* Mulder said quietly, realizing that his words
were most likely not an overstatement. 

Scully shook her head. Mulder could see the worry in her eyes
now, all the joy gone from her expression as reality settled back
in. 

"How in God's name are we supposed to find this thing? We're
unarmed, and this thing has all of Massachusetts to hide in..." 

"No, Scully...I think this it's here in Boston. Like I said at the
hospital, I have this feeling that it's searching for something." 

He reached into his pocket and removed the folded slip of paper
the bounty hunter had given him. He handed it to Scully. 

She unfolded it and read it aloud. "Dr. Nirmal Shah. 1025
Torrance Drive. Boston, Mass." She looked up at him and
added, "The *bounty hunter* gave this to you?" 

"Yeah. And I'm praying that this Dr. Shah...whoever he is, can
lead us to this creature." 

Scully nodded, peered through the windshield at the night sky
and said, "Start the car." 


                    
* 
           
1025 Torrance Drive 
11:01 p.m. 

Scully was alone in the rental car. Now that push came to shove
the fear was greater than ever. She didn't really want to do this
alone, but she had faith in Mulder. She got out of the car,
hefting the crowbar in her right hand. She glanced around for
passers-by but saw no-one. 

The strange elation she'd been feeling earlier was gone now.
They were about to wade into dark and dangerous territory. 

She walked quickly up to the house and knocked dutifully on
the front door. For a while there was nothing but silence, but
then she heard sounds from within the house. She kept the
crowbar pressed against her side to conceal it, and unfastened a
few buttons on her shirt to reveal some cleavage. Her pulse
began to rise. She couldn't quite believe she was about to go
through with this, but she swallowed and told herself there were
no other options available. She heard someone on the other side
of the door, and plastered a hopefully genuine-looking smile
onto her face. She heard the sound of bolts being withdrawn. 

The door opened and Scully found herself staring at a young
Indian man in his late twenties. 

"Hi there, can I help you?" he asked. His accent was native
Bostonian. For a moment he glanced from her face to the
cleavage on show. 

In a breathy, sultry voice she said, "Dr. Nirmal Shah?" 

He grinned at her with a look of anticipation. *"Yeah..."* 

Scully let the smile vanish from her face and said quietly, "The
Ravana Project." 

A look of fear flashed in his eyes and he immediately tried to
slam the door closed. But Scully knew she had to act
immediately and shoved the crowbar into the gap. The door hit
the length of metal and bounced open again in his face. With
wide, terrified eyes he took a few steps backwards as Scully
stalked into his home and slammed the door behind her. 

If this guy was married or had kids in the house, Scully knew
this could get complicated very quickly. But Dr. Shah's look of
fear suddenly evaporated and in the next instant he lunged
forward, lashing out with a fist, quick as lightning - striking
Scully hard across the face. She grunted and fell against the
wall, dazed. The young Indian took his chance, turned and
bolted through an archway to his left. 

With her right cheek stinging badly from the punch, Scully
hauled herself upright and ran after him, her heart racing now.
As she passed through the brightly-lit lounge she had the sudden
intuition that the guy was running towards his study - towards a
weapon he kept there. The though filled Scully with dread and
renewed purpose. 

She was right. Up ahead she saw him fling open the door to his
study and lunge into the room, towards his desk. 

He managed to get the drawer open and reach inside when
Scully slammed into his back, pitching him forward slightly
over the desk. But he immediately arched his back in a savage
shrug, throwing her off him. Scully stumbled backwards and
tried to lash out with the crowbar, missing his face by inches as
he whipped his head back. She slipped and fell on her ass,
peering up at him. 

Icy dread instantly overtook the adrenaline in her system. 

His eyes were filled with fear and hate, but he had nothing in his
hands yet. Taking his chance, he spun and thrust into the drawer
again - whirling back round with a pistol clenched in his palm. 

But Scully had already scrambled forward. She cried out and
drove the pointed end of the crowbar straight through his shoe. 

He howled in agony, not even having time to squeeze off a shot
as the gun slipped involuntarily from his hand and clattered on
the floor beside her. She drove an elbow into his groin and he
howled raggedly again, doubling over, but the crowbar through
his foot had pinned him to the floor. 

She snatched up the pistol, launched herself onto her feet again
and shoved the barrel up under his chin. He inhaled sharply. 

"I've already had someone shooting at me today," she hissed in
his ear. "You don't get that privilege, doctor " 

Scully realized she was panting with fear and rage. She felt
wild. She pressed the gun-barrel harder against his adam's
apple. 

"Now you and I are going to have a little talk. How are you
connected to this Ravana Project?" 

The Indian was grimacing in pain. "Please, please," he begged,
"My *foot...*" 

"If you don't start talking," Scully told him, inches from his
face, "I'm going to put a bullet through your brain. Your foot
will be the last of your worries." 

Suddenly he sneered at her and said something vicious-sounding
in what Scully recognised as Hindi, but she couldn't understand
it. 

"What was that?" she growled, jabbing his throat with the gun-
barrel. 

"I called you a dumb American whore." 

Scully scowled at him and her finger tightened on the pistol's
trigger, before realizing that was exactly what this man wanted.
Knowing he was trapped, defeated, he was now hoping she
would kill him in a fit of rage. 

She took a deep breath, peered at him for a moment and said,
"What the hell are you involved in that you're willing to die for
it now?" 

The young Indian smiled at her even with the gun to his throat.
"Naraka," he said quietly. 

"And what's *Naraka?*" 

He peered coldly at her. He was clearly still in great pain, but he
seemed to be enjoying her lack of comprehension. "Naraka," he
muttered, "is the Hindu word for Hell." 

"If you don't start talking I'm going to kill you, Nirmal." 

"Do it," he hissed. "Do it, you stupid bitch. It's for the best,
anyway. I can accept my own death. Because I'm a god-
maker...and hell is coming." 

Despite the gun in her hand, Scully was afraid of the malice and
strangeness in the young doctor's eyes. But she was going to
*make* him talk. She was going to get answers from him, even
if it killed him. 
                     

* 
                     
Mulder had tried to assess the angles and the possible shot
placements, and he hoped to God that he was right about this.
But he was unarmed. He had given Scully the crowbar from the
trunk of the car; their only weapon. She'd wanted him to take it
instead, but Mulder refused. 

He prayed she was ok. 

He would only get once chance at this. If this was the wrong
house, he would be putting Scully even more deeply in harm's
way. If this was the right house, and he failed, then he was a
dead man. 

In the car, just before they arrived on Torrance Drive, Scully had
told him his idea was lunacy - but considering the circumstances
it was the only lunacy available to them. 

Mulder's pulse was already racing. For this plan to work, he had
to maintain the advantage up until the last possible moment. 

*Oh, Christ, you better be right about this...* 

In the darkness he'd circled round, scaled the wall to the back
garden and carefully approached the patio. When Mulder got
close enough he realized that the glass doors to the patio had
been pulled out of their runners somehow, and the doors were
ajar. 

A flush of simultaneous hope and dread went through him. 

His instincts had been right. But now he was faced with
something terrifying. He didn't want to go through with it, but
he knew he had no other choice. 

He slipped through the gap in the open patio doors and stepped
into the darkened house. It was eerily quiet. He could barely see
anything, save for the scant illumination cast by the reflected
moonlight through the doors. 

With his mouth dry and his pulse thrumming he crept further
into the house. Soon his eyes began adjusting to the darkness,
and he began to pick out more detail around him. 

For a moment he was struck by the madness of what he was
attempting here. 

Carefully and quietly he moved into the doorway to the open-
plan lounge. The curtains at every window were open. Light
from the moon mingled with the sodium glow of the streetlamps
outside and bathed the room in a faint, unearthly orange glow. 

And that was when Mulder saw him. 

The sniper was lying across the length of the large dining table,
little more than a shadow against shadows. The high-powered
rifle was set up on a stock at the table's edge. The weapon was
pointed straight through the main window. The line of sight
passed across the street and directly into the lounge of 1025
Torrance Drive; the house that Scully was in at this very
moment. Mulder could see the lighted lounge of the opposite
house from where he was standing. It was a clean and easy shot. 

Mulder was trembling with fear as he stood there, afraid to
move a muscle or even breathe in case the sniper sensed his
presence. His heart was pounding so hard he could almost
believe that the sniper would hear it. Sweat was trickling down
Mulder's forehead now. 

He had to make his approach as stealthily as possible. Christ,
this was insane. 

*You're dead, Fox. This guy's gonna kill you. He has a gun,
and you have nothing...* 

As softly as possible, Mulder began his approach. 

But then a moment later he saw movement in the windows of
the opposite house. It was Scully, shoving a man at gunpoint
into the lounge. 

Mulder's stomach plummeted. 

He saw the sniper on the dining table shift slightly in the
darkened room, preparing to take his shot. 

Mulder had no choice. He broke into a run towards the table,
blowing his cover. The sniper heard him, whipped his head
round, dragging the stocked rifle around with him. Mulder
reached the table and lashed out with a savage kick. But in the
darkness it didn't connect properly, catching the very edge of
the rifle's suppressor. 

A quiet *whuump* came from the weapon as a blast of
displaced air arced past Mulder's face. In the next instant
Mulder lunged, intending to ram his right elbow down onto the
sniper's back - but it hit the hard surface of the dining table
instead. The sniper had snaked away and grabbed Mulder's right
forearm, trying to bend it back the wrong way. Mulder grit his
teeth and lashed out blindly with his left fist - and felt it make
contact. Which part of the sniper he'd struck, he couldn't tell. 

In the darkness Mulder was suddenly body-slammed by his
adversary and the two of them went crashing down onto the
edge of the dining table. Mulder grunted in pain as their
combined weight on its edge made the table flip suddenly, like a
black wave arcing above them in the almost-darkness. There
was a huge crash as the table's surface hit a cabinet against the
wall. Mulder heard glass shattering. On the floor now he struck
out blindly again with his fists and then his legs. He caught the
edge of the sniper's torso and heard him give a muffled grunt of
pain. 

Mulder could barely see but sensed the sniper rolling away from
him. Suddenly a brutal punch was slammed into the side of
Mulder's head. Bright spots like fireflies swam in his vision.
Despite the pain, Mulder had the sudden realisation that he was
moments away from losing this fight - moments away from
being murdered. Instinctively he rolled across the floor in the
direction of the sniper, feeling broken glass cutting at his back
through his hooded sweatshirt. He winced, widened his eyes and
saw the silhouette of the sniper lunging away across the floor at
something. 

The rifle. 

Mulder bent his own left leg, foot pressed to the floor, using it
as leverage to launch himself into an awkward attack at his
adversary. He managed to bring his elbow down square in the
centre of the sniper's back. The sniper shuddered, cried out and
managed to roll away again. Mulder tried to scramble towards
him in the dark, and felt his hand brush against something. The
stock of the rifle. 

A surge of hope flared in Mulder's heart - a moment before
being kicked in the face. It was like a wall of static blasting
through his head. Mulder felt the inside of his own cheek tear
open and blood flood into his mouth. Amidst the agony, Mulder
grabbed the rifle and swung it round to point upward just as he
sensed the sniper looming above him. He felt a boot-heel press
against his throat, about to stamp down and break his neck. 

On instinct Mulder squeezed the trigger of the rifle in his hands.
There was another suppressed *whuump.* 

For several moments Mulder just lay there on the floor of the
darkened room; his head pounding like a nightmare. His entire
body was shimmering with pain, adrenaline and shock. 

Finally he rolled onto his side, winced and spat out a mouthful
of blood. 

But he wasn't dead. Every part of his body was burning and
stinging and throbbing but he was *alive.* 

He groaned in pain, blinking repeatedly, and suddenly cried out,

*"Scully!"* 

It took him a few moments to realize that Scully was in the
house across the street and couldn't possibly hear him. 

There on the floor in the darkness, Mulder tried to take long,
deep breaths. As his eyes adjusted further to the faint orange
murk from the streetlamps outside he realised that the sniper
was slumped against the nearest wall, the right side of his head
completely blown apart. A trail of gore arced up and away
across the wall. 

Mulder lay there in the darkness, stunned, listening to the sound
of his own breathing. 
                     

* 
           
1025 Torrance Drive 
11:28 p.m. 

In the lounge of the young doctor's home, Scully sat across from
him in an armchair, with his pistol pointed in his direction.
Nirmal Shah was slumped on the couch, grimacing as blood
continued to trickle from the hole in his foot. She'd let him take
of his shoe, and the wound looked bad. 

She was worried about Mulder, but she wasn't going to let this
bastard see even a glimpse of her fear. She peered at him, and he
peered back. 

"Tell me again," she ordered, "Less vague this time..." 

The young Indian scowled but eventually relented, nodding at
her. "The Ravana Experiment is India's final solution...their last
hope at forestalling colonisation. Many countries are aware of
what's coming. But India has...a unique insight..." 

"What does that mean?" 

The young man smiled. Scully could see that he was enjoying
this; enjoying her confusion and the sense of power it afforded
him. 

"Like I said, Naraka is coming. In our culture, the elites know
all about colonisation. Many of them believe it happened once
before..." 

*"What?"* said Scully, astonished. 

"Have you heard of the Bhagavad Gita, the Ramayana?" 

Scully immediately recalled the paintings on the walls of Dr.
Seema Kistri's office at Vedanta Biotech. She nodded. 

"Well, those epic poems are thousands of years old. Some
scholars believe they contain references to an ancient war - a
war between various alien races. Those poems talk about
vimanas...chariots of the Hindu deities; flying machines of
unimaginable power..." 

Scully felt herself get colder and colder as she listened to his
words. 

He continued, "Just one of these vimanas could decimate an
entire city. Some scholars believe that these scriptures contain
references to some kind of nuclear war waged by these alien
races...a war that scorched the Earth..." 

Quietly, Scully said, "That can't be true." 

Nirmal Shah chuckled and shrugged despite the pain he was in.
"True or not, there are powerful people within the Indian
intelligence network who believe it. That's why they established
the Ravana Experiments. Is it really so different to what the US
government believes? That five months from now the Earth is
going to be invaded by a malign extraterrestrial race?" He
smiled thinly at her again. "Like I said, Naraka is coming. Hell
is coming, little girl..." 

She scowled at his use of the term  little girl' and jutted the
pistol in his direction. 

"Don't forget I'm the one holding the gun." 

There was a sudden pounding at the front door, and a moment
later Scully heard Mulder's voice. He was calling her name. She
bolted from the armchair immediately, the gun still trained on
Dr. Shah. "Are you going to do something stupid?" she asked
him. 

"Guess you'll have to wait and see," he told her. 

With the state his foot was in, she hoped the young doctor could
barely hobble anywhere. Still, she backed through the archway,
into the hallway and went to the door. When she opened it she
saw Mulder standing there, propped up against the frame. He
was battered and bruised. One of his eyes was already swelling
shut, and blood - his own blood - had gushed from his mouth
and had covered his chin and neck. 

"Hey good-looking," he murmured half-heartedly. 

*"Jesus Christ,"* Scully gasped. He looked like he had been
through a warzone. She embraced him fiercely, all thoughts of
the crippled doctor in the lounge gone from her mind. "What
*the hell* happened, Mulder...?" 

Scully realized he was wincing in pain at her embrace, and
pulled away immediately. 

"I found the sniper," he said plainly, darkly. 

Scully didn't even have to ask if the sniper was dead. Mulder
had clearly been thrust into a brutal life-or-death struggle, and
had won. She forced the tears back as she peered at him. 

"He was going to kill you, Scully. So I went for him. His brains
are all over the lounge in the house across the street ..." 

Scully knew he'd been unarmed when they'd parted ways,
which meant he must have taken out the sniper with his own
weapon. She swallowed at the tenacity and strength it must have
taken to make that happen. She peered gratefully at her lover.
She wasn't sure if Mulder was actually concussed or just in
shock, but he swayed slightly as he stood there. He glanced
down at the pistol in her hand. 

Suddenly she remembered Dr. Shah, and hurried back into the
lounge, gun raised, half expecting him to have vanished
somehow - but he was still sitting in the same place, peering
hatefully at her. 

A few moments later Mulder followed her into the room. Scully
glanced back at him before stalking over to the sitting doctor
and shoving the gun against his chest. 

"You helped create this thing, didn't you? This Purity Stalker?"
He nodded silently. "And who is ultimately behind this
project?" 

"Vedanta Biotech," he said quietly. "India's been experimenting
for years with specific genetic combinations...and Vedanta are
the first to create a prototype that wasn't stillborn or died in-
vitro. India is kind of pissed that the first Stalker was engineered
on US soil. But success is success. This thing has a codename.
We called it Shiva." 

From behind her, Scully heard Mulder say, "*Shiva?* You
named this thing after the Hindu god of destruction? You
twisted, arrogant sons of bitches..." 

Scully peered into the young Indian's dark eyes and hissed, "But
Labyrinth wants this thing for themselves? This *Shiva?*" 

He seemed genuinely taken aback that she even knew what
Labyrinth was. He tried to hide his surprise, but it was too late. 

"Yes, and they'll get it. *We'll* get it. Your world is ending
tonight, bitch." A look of pure malevolence spread across his
face. He pressed himself against the gun that Scully had to his
chest, and muttered something in Hindi. In the next moment he
lunged, grabbed Scully's hand and forced her to pull the trigger. 

The shot went straight through his heart. Scully flinched and
gasped, but he was dead before he even slumped to one side. A
bloodied hole was left in the couch behind him. 

With her mouth agape, horror flooding her system at what the
young man had just done, she turned and peered at Mulder. 

Mulder just stood there, looking like a casualty of war, and
shook his head. "We need to get out of here, Scully. The
neighbours would've heard that shot..." 

Scully stared horrified and disbelieving at the young doctor
lying dead on the couch. 

A few moments later a phone started ringing. 

With wide eyes she turned and peered again at Mulder. She saw
that he'd been clutching a cell phone in his bloodied hand the
entire time. They locked gazes and Scully realized it was the
sniper's phone he was clutching. 

Instinctively, Mulder put the call on speaker-phone and
answered. 

"Tell me they're dead," a man's voice said. "Tell me you didn't
screw this up for the second time." 

"They're very much alive, asshole," Mulder growled into the
phone. There was silence on the line but the caller didn't hang
up. "I just killed your sniper," Mulder added. 

After another few moments of silence Scully heard the caller say
quietly, "Am I talking to former Special Agent Fox Mulder?" 

"Yup." 

"Mr. Mulder if you continue to interfere in this matter, you
and Dr. Scully will be dead before the end of the night." 

*"Really?"* Mulder hissed into the phone. "Because I'll tell you
something else that could happen. Scully and I could find this
Shiva...and piss all over your dumb-ass plans." 

Immediately the caller hung up. 

Mulder dropped the sniper's phone and stamped on it
repeatedly. By the time he was done the phone was in pieces. 

Scully stared with shock into Mulder's eyes for a moment, and
then peered back at the doctor lying dead on the couch. And
then Mulder was behind her, hustling her to her feet and saying,
"Come on, Scully, we need to go. *Now.*" 
                     
                                     
* 
                
11:56 p.m. 

They were driving again, but Scully was at the wheel this time.
Mulder was in no shape to drive. He sat slumped in the
passenger seat, bloodied and battered and clearly still in pain.
She kept taking her eyes off the road to peer at him. This man,
this amazing beautiful man, had constantly put himself through
hell to protect her. Every argument they'd ever had seemed trite
now. She loved this man so completely and so desperately that it
was frightening. 

She had no idea what was coming next, but she was so grateful
that she still had him at her side to go through it with her. Her
first instinct was to get him to a hospital immediately, but she
knew that option wasn't on the cards right now. 

"We're going *stop* this thing, Mulder," she told him. "We're
going find this creature and kill it. Nothing's going to happen
tonight. I don't care what the bounty hunter said. I don't care
what Nirmal Shah told me..." 

Grimacing, Mulder asked, "What did he tell you...?" 

Scully recounted his story about the Bhagavad Gita and the
Ramayana, his tale of an ancient war between alien races, what
he'd said about the vimanas - the ancient flying machines of the
Hindu gods. Mulder listened silently. 

Finally he peered at her and said, "The paintings on Seema
Kistri's office wall..." 

Scully nodded. "They believe it too." 

Awkwardly, Mulder reached into the pocket on the leg of his
sweatpants and removed his own cell phone. It looked as
battered as he did, but it was still working. He dialled the
number for Vedanta Biotech that he'd stored. Scully glanced at
him as she drove. He didn't even need to say it. She was already
driving towards their office-complex on the outskirts of Boston. 

Into the phone he said shakily, "This is Fox Mulder with the
Vigil Intelligence Taskforce, I need to speak immediately with
Dr. Sanjeev Kistri, or his Executive Vice President of
Operations. It's a matter of National Security..." 

Scully could see from the look on his face that he expected to be
brushed off by the person at the other end of the line, but he
frowned with surprise, glanced over and muttered, "They're
putting me through. Something's really wrong here..." 

Mulder switched the call to speaker-phone. A moment later
Scully heard a woman's voice in the car with them. "Mr.
Mulder...?" It was Seema Kistri, her tone filled with angst and
fear. 

"You lied to us today," Mulder said plainly. 

"Oh God, I'm sorry..." 

"Listen to me, Dr. Kistri, we know everything. This thing
you've created...this Purity Stalker codenamed  Shiva'...it could
end up starting a *war* tonight..." 

Scully swallowed as she listened silently to the conversation. 

*"I know,"* said the geneticist, her voice trembling with
emotion. "It's...it's all gone to hell, Mr. Mulder. *It's already
here...*" 

Scully and Mulder's eyes widened simultaneously when they
realized what she meant. 

"It's with you in the building...?" 

"Yes!" 

"Dr. Kistri," Mulder said quickly, "Listen to me - we're on our
way to your offices *right now.* Stay out of its way..." 

The woman's voice was at breaking point. "You don't
understand...oh, God, it wasn't even my husband's idea..." 

Mulder glanced fearfully at Scully. "What're you talking
about?" 

The woman's voice resounded in the car with them. "Labyrinth
are terrorists, aren't they? I sold my son to terrorists...Oh God,
forgive me..." 

*"Your son?"* Mulder exclaimed, astonished. But the line went
dead, and suddenly they were listening to the endless beep of a
severed phone line. 

Mulder ended the call and they peered at each other in fear and
disbelief. Scully's heart was racing now. She had no idea what
was going on anymore, but whatever it was - it was very, very
bad. 

"What the hell have they done, Mulder? What the hell is going
on? Her *son?* She wasn't speaking symbolically...was she?" 

With fear in his voice, Mulder muttered, "I don't think so..." 

"We need to contact Vigil," Scully said, trying to keep her eyes
on the road. "We need to get through to Taskforce-Leader
Lessinger..." 

"No, Scully. I don't think we have time for that. We need stop
this, right now. I think Labyrinth has people at Vedanta Biotech
as we speak..." 

Scully peered into Mulder's eyes for a moment, terror churning
in her guts. "This is insanity, Mulder. We only have one
gun...and you're in bad shape. Labyrinth's members are trained
mercenaries. If you're right...and they're at Vedanta right now
with this creature...then we're screwed." 

Mulder straightened in the passenger seat, took a deep breath
and said, "If Labyrinth gets its hands on this thing, Scully...it
ends. It all ends. *Tonight.* That's what the bounty hunter told
me. And I believe him..." 

Scully swallowed her terror and muttered, "*Jesus Christ*...this
can't really be happening, can it?" 

For a few moments Mulder was silent. Finally he said, "Just
drive, Scully. We're running out of time..." 



* 
             
Vedanta Biotech 
12:24 a.m. 

The rental car pulled up in front of the vast office-complex in
the landscaped grounds, set back a quarter mile from the nearest
road. 

Security cameras were mounted everywhere but the place was
deserted, except for a large white unmarked truck that was
parked in front of the main building. There was no-one waiting
in the driver seat. The vehicle was identical to the one they had
seen in the photos at Vigil this morning...a morning that seemed
like days if not weeks ago now. 

They both knew what the truck's presence meant. Labyrinth
members were here too. The place was cut off from potential
passers-by, but Labyrinth was obviously no longer worried
about even trying to be discreet. They intended to find and
capture this thing, at all costs. 

In the car, Mulder watched as Scully glanced down at Dr.
Nirmal Shah's pistol in her hands and then peered up at him. 

"I don't think we can do this," she told him. Her voice was
trembling badly. 

"We *have* to do this, Scully..." 

Mulder was afraid too, but he leaned across and kissed her
deeply. He was aware that she could taste his blood on her lips,
and yet she didn't care. He was about to pull away when she
grabbed him and let the kiss linger for another few seconds.
When she finally let him pull away her mouth was smeared with
his blood. The look in her eyes told him it was somehow a
fleeting comfort. 

"Come on," he said resolutely. For the second time in seven
hours they got out of the rental car and approached the glass-
panelled foyer of the building. 

Mulder's body was still aching. Neither of them had any idea
how many of Labyrinth's members were inside the building. As
they got closer to the main entrance Scully froze and gestured at
the shattered doors. Broken glass littered the ground in front of
the main entrance. 

"At least getting in won't be a problem," Mulder said quietly. 

"Maybe you should take this gun," she told him. 

"I can barely see out of my left eye right now, Dana..." 

She glanced at his face again, at his left eye that had practically
swelled shut from his brutal encounter with the sniper. Mulder
could sense that she was stuck again by how battered he looked,
and how insane this was. 

Nevertheless, they both stepped through the empty space where
the main doors had been and glanced around the foyer. Over by
the reception-counter they noticed a splatter of blood on the wall
beneath the corporate logo. 

They hurried over to the counter and peered over. The young
woman they had spoken to earlier lay collapsed, a bloodied hole
punched through the centre of her chest. 

*"Jesus,"* Mulder grimaced. 

Swallowing their fear, they took the stairwell to the top floor of
the building. They heard nothing and encountered no-one during
their ascent. 

Now they found themselves in the immaculate corridors from
earlier, decorated in elegant panels of smoked-glass. 

Mulder realized they were both subconsciously tracing their
earlier path back towards Dr. Seema Kistri's office. They made
their way down the corridor. As they turned at the nearest
junction they both froze at the sight before them. 

Two men in black combat-gear lay mutilated in the hallway.
Sticky rivers of blood were splashed everywhere. Mulder
inhaled sharply at the sight, and Scully did the same. The fat,
coppery scent of blood filled the air. One of the men was
missing his head and left arm, and the other had been torn open
from groin to throat - his entrails strewn all over the highly-
polished floor. 

*"Oh God,"* Scully murmured. Mulder could tell from the
pistol trembling in her hand that she wanted to get the hell away
from this place as fast as possible. She was just as terrified as he
was. 

From somewhere deeper in the building they heard an awful
shrieking growl, followed by rapid gunfire. And then a human
scream, cut abruptly short. Silence resumed within the office-
complex. 

Scully peered wide-eyed and fearful at him. "How are we going
to stop this thing, with *this*..." She raised the pistol in her
hands. "...if assault-rifles can't stop it? We're dead, Mulder. If
we don't get out of here we're *dead*..." 

At the mentioned of rifles, Mulder began scanning the floor near
the mutilated bodies of the two mercenaries. Finally he spotted a
single fallen assault-rifle and snatched it up. He tried to recall
his FBI tactical weapons training. With the large and powerful
weapon in his hands, Mulder realized that he wasn't comforted
by it. He grimaced and pressed his lips together. Scully was
right. 

"You go, Scully. Keep the gun, be careful, and get the hell out
of here. I...I should never have dragged you in here with me..." 

Scully grabbed his arm and shook him. Her eyes were wild.
"There is no way on God's Earth that I'm gonna *leave* you
here..." 

A sudden boom on the floor below startled them. They felt the
vibration in their feet. 

"What the hell was that...?" Scully murmured. 

Another three booms followed in rapid succession, and one of
the smoked-glass panels beside them cracked and then shattered. 

From behind them they heard a low, wet growl. They both spun
round, only to see something impossible emerge from the
stairwell at the far end of the corridor. It padded into view,
turned its head and looked at them. 

Scully gasped and almost dropped the pistol in sheer terror. 

The thing was as black as the night and almost twice the size of
a lion, on all fours with a powerfully muscular body. Each limb
ended in oversized claws. Its head was mostly a grinning mouth
filled with huge knife-like teeth, but its eyes were twin points of
glowing green light. Mulder saw tentacles whipping and
writhing on its back. 

*"What the f--"* Scully began, about to take a horrified step
backwards. 

"Don't move," Mulder said immediately. In a sudden flash of
intuition he made sure to keep the assault-rifle in his hands
pointed down at the floor rather than at the thing at the end of
the corridor. 

The thing seemed to be watching them. The writhing
appendages on its back seemed to calm and fold themselves
back against its body. It growled and sniffed the air. Although
Mulder's swollen left eye had ruined his depth perception, he
realized the thing was injured. There seemed to be bullet holes
in its side, leaking red blood onto the floor. 

"Oh God," Scully murmured. "*Shoot it,* Mulder..." 

"If I shoot it at this range, I think it'll *attack* us..." 

*"Mulder..."* 

The thing began pawing at the floor with one of its massive
claws, making streaks and trails with its own blood. 

Brazenly, in a moment of all-or-nothing, Mulder called out to it.
"Shiva!" 

It snapped its head up immediately, peering at them and
growling - but the growl turned into a strange keening sound. It
turned its head away and lunged back into the stairwell. They
heard the concussive sounds of it pounding down the steps. 

Finally, silence filled the corridor again. 

Mulder peered over at Scully beside him. Her wide eyes were
wet with tears, her expression frozen in one of terror and
disbelief. 

"We're ok, Scully," he told her and gently took her hand. She
seemed to flinch at his touch. She staggered and half-slumped
against the wall, stopping herself before she fell, and took a
deep inhalation of breath. 

"Oh my God...I thought we we're dead, Mulder..." 

Mulder hefted the assault-rifle in his left hand. With his free
hand he touched the side of her face and said, "It didn't want to
hurt us, Scully...I think it recognised that we weren't a threat." 

She peered back at him. "But we *are* a threat. We want to kill
it..." 

Mulder frowned. "Maybe dying isn't what this thing's afraid
of." 

*"What?"* 

Mulder grabbed her by the arm and ushered her down the
corridor with him. Slowly, they approached the spot where the
thing had been making streaks in its own blood. Scully gasped
and began shaking her head. 

"No...no, I don't believe this, Mulder. This can't be
happening..." 

There on the polished floor, scrawled in childlike letters, were
two words. 

*HELP ME.* 

For the last six minutes they had been stalking through the top-
floor corridors of Vedanta Biotech - six minutes that felt like an
eternity to Scully. Mulder was taking the lead and she kept close
behind him. She was a little more comforted by the presence of
the powerful assault-rifle in his hands, but she had seen what
that thing had done to its original owner. Scully realized they
would have to get pretty close for even such a high-powered
weapon to be effective. 

The thing was aware of language. It had scrawled letters in its
own blood. It had tried to communicate with them. Scully had
no idea what that meant, but it terrified her. 

Suddenly a voice from behind them said, "Don't move...or I'll
blow you into the next world." 

It was a clipped British accent. Scully felt a rush of renewed
fear. "Mr. Mulder, Dr. Scully, put the weapon down on the
floor. Slowly." 

Both of them did as they were told. 

"Now turn around, slowly." Again they did as the voice
requested. Scully found herself peering at a tall Indian man in
his late thirties, standing in a doorway. 

Despite his youthful appearance, his hair already had streaks of
grey in it. His eyes were bloodshot and streaming with tears. He
was pointing an assault-rifle at them; identical to the one Mulder
had just placed on the floor. 

"Dr. Sanjeev Kistri?" Scully asked tentatively. 

*"Yes,"* the man almost snarled. 

"Are you going to kill us, Sanjeev?" asked Mulder, his voice
filled with intensity. 

"I'm trying to save your bloody lives," the CEO told them.
"Now get in here." 

He lowered the gun, stepped aside and motioned for them to
hurry up. Scully glanced at Mulder and the two of them hurried
into the room. Sanjeev Kistri closed and locked the door behind
them. 

Scully realized they were standing in the CEO's large, well-
appointed office. Black leather couches sat in the left corner of
the room. In horror Scully realized that Seema Kistri was lying
dead on one of them. She had a gun clenched in her left hand,
and the barrel of the gun shoved into her mouth. The back of her
head had exploded against the far wall. 

Mulder saw it too and grimaced. The CEO of Vedanta Biotech
peered wildly at both of them. Although the weapon clutched in
his hands was no longer pointed at them, Scully felt anything
but safe in his presence. 

"She...she took her own life," he said shakily. "I tried to stop
her, but...after the men came...after she got off the phone with
*you*...she begged my forgiveness, and then she put her father's
gun in her mouth." 

Tears were still streaming silently down the Indian's face. 

Fearlessly, Mulder stalked over to him and shoved the assault-
rifle aside. Mulder grabbed him and shook him. 

"Sanjeev, listen to me; do you know how many men are still
alive in this building?" 

Scully watched as he peered into Mulder's face and stammered,
"Just...just two, I think. The leader and his second-in-
command..." 

"Are they still armed?" 

"Yes..." 

"Put down the gun, Sanjeev." For some reason the CEO
immediately obeyed Mulder's words; as though the presence of
another non-hostile human being had brought him crashing back
to reality. The assault-rifle clattered onto the floor beside them. 

"We need to work together now," Mulder told him. "Ok?" 

He nodded profusely. "Yes, yes..." 

"You need to tell me what this thing really is." 

"A Purity Stalker...I didn't want to, but she made me..." 

Mulder gripped the doctor's shoulder. "No, Sanjeev...what *is*
it?" 

"A chimera - an animal-alien-human hybrid..." 

Mulder glanced over at Scully and then peered again at the
CEO. "*Human?* What does that mean?" 

Dr. Sanjeev Kistri was trembling as tears kept rolling down his
face. "Human brain tissue spliced with animal and alien DNA. I
didn't want to do it, but...Seema...she couldn't let him go..." 

"Couldn't let *who* go?" 

"Pramesh...our son. He died four years ago. Leukaemia. But
Seema went behind my back and had most of his frontal cortex
cryogenically frozen..." 

As Scully watched the two of them talking a feeling of new
horror flooded through her. 

"...and when we realized the gene-sequencing would actually
work, she begged me...she begged me to use Pramesh's tissue as
the primary donor..." 

*"Jesus,"* Scully muttered, and then more loudly, "You
actually spliced your dead son's brain tissue into this thing? Are
you out of your *goddamn mind?*" 

"I didn't realize..." 

Scully stalked forward and pulled Mulder away from the man.
Her stomach clenched with disgust and outrage. "This man is
sick, Mulder! He turned the remains of his son into a killing-
machine...a weapon of war!" 

Dr. Sanjeev Kistri shook his head furiously, staring with wild
eyes. "No, no, it's much worse than that...this prototype
remembers things that my son remembers...it feels things that
my son felt..." 

Suddenly the Indian lunged forward, grabbed Mulder by the
front of his bloodied sweatshirt and bellowed insanely, "Don't
you understand? I inadvertently resurrected by boy! I damned
him...me and Seema, we damned him both...trapped him in this
monstrous flesh! I thought...I thought we were trying to save the
Earth..." 

Scully went over, shoved Mulder aside and grabbed the Indian. 

"How do we kill this thing?" she barked at him. 

"This thing...is my *child*..." 

"No, it's not," Scully told him. "It's a biological weapon...a
monster." 

"It's my *boy*...my sweet Pramesh." His eyes darkened as he
stared at her. "What the hell would you know about losing a
child...?" 

Scully faltered, swallowed and stepped away from him. She
caught Mulder's worried look in her direction. There was a
heavy silence in the room. Sanjeev Kistri saw the look on her
face and immediately his expression softened. 

"You lost someone too?" he asked. "A child?" 

Scully didn't answer him. She simply snatched up the heavy
assault-rifle from the floor and glared at Mulder. 

A split-second later rapid gunfire erupted in a streaking line
through the wall of the office. A gout of vivid crimson exploded
from Sanjeev Kistri's chest. 

*"Down!"* Mulder screamed, and Scully threw herself to the
floor. 

Gunfire continued to blast through the wall and into the room,
lancing over their heads and decimating furniture and
ornaments. The noise was almost deafening. 

Heart pounding, Scully kept her head down at the roar of gunfire
- as dust filled the air. She realized the assault-rifle was still
clutched in her hands. Immediately she hefted it at the wall and
opened fire on full-auto. 

The noise was like thunder. With all the dust in the air she
couldn't see Mulder or the Indian but sensed their presence
nearby. She prayed that neither one of them was hit. 

It was only when she realized that their unseen assailants had
stopped shooting that she eased her finger off the trigger and
ceased her counter-attack. 

After the roar of gunfire Scully realized her ears were ringing in
the new quiet. And then she heard coughing in the dust-filled
office, from only a few feet away. 

"Mulder!" she exclaimed fearfully. 

"Yeah," came his shaky reply. He began coughing again. The
dust was already beginning to settle and she saw his outline on
the ground nearby. She let go of the assault-rifle and quickly
crawled across broken bits of plaster towards him. 

"Are you hit?" she asked quickly, grabbing the side of his face. 

"No. Check Dr. Kistri..." 

Scully turned her head and spotted the Indian lying several feet
away. She crawled over and
realized he was lying in a pool of his own blood. A ragged hole
in his chest had exposed a few of his ribs. His eyes were glassy
and still. 

Scully grimaced and tried to control her fear. She crawled back
over to Mulder, peered at him and shook her head. 

*"Christ..."* Mulder murmured. He hauled himself to his feet
and helped her up too. 

On their feet now, they peered around in shock at the decimated
office. Mulder snatched up the assault-rifle that Scully had just
abandoned. 

The look in his eyes told her that they were about to venture into
the corridor and that she should stay close behind him. She
nodded at his intention. 

They moved over to the office door and Mulder carefully
opened it. With the rifle raised, he risked a glance into the
corridor and then stepped out. Scully followed. 

Several feet down the corridor a man in black combat-gear was
slumped in a sitting position against the wall. His weapon lay
beside him, and Scully saw that her counter-fire through the
wall had shredded his mid-section. His intestines were heaped in
a scarlet mess between his legs. 

"Damn, Scully," Mulder said quietly. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Scully sensed movement at the
nearest end of the corridor. Mulder caught it too and whipped
round, squeezing the trigger of the weapon in his hands. 

But the assault-rifle just kept clicking on empty. With horror,
Scully realized she'd used up all the ammunition in her counter-
attack from the office. 

Standing thirty feet away in the junction of the corridor was
another man dressed in black combat-gear. Unlike the other men
they'd encountered he was wearing a balaclava and clad in
body-armour, a throat-mic around his neck. Instead of an
assault-rifle in his hands he was clutching what looked like a
modified tranquilizer gun. 

Dread swirled in the pit of Scully's stomach as she stood beside
Mulder, both of them peering helplessly at the team-leader
standing there. 

He tapped his throat-mic and began, "We have--" 

Before he could finish, a shrieking roar filled the air as
something huge and black slammed into him - lifting him of his
feet and hurling him out of sight beyond the junction. 

Scully flinched and gasped. Mulder did the same, snatching her
wrist and pulling her back a few steps. 

Screaming filled the corridor, suddenly drowned out by another
growling shriek - and then silence. 

Then, a moment later, the Purity Stalker padded into view at the
corridor junction. Scully was frozen with horror at the size of
the thing. She glanced, terrified, at Mulder, but he couldn't take
his eyes off it. The useless assault-rifle fell from his hands and
thudded to the floor. 

Like something from a nightmare the creature began moving
down the corridor towards them, all muscle and sinew and teeth. 

*"Jesus Christ..."* Scully heard herself murmur at the sight. 

The corridor ended about ten feet behind them, large bay
windows that looked out over the rest of the office-complex.
They were trapped. But Scully was rooted to the spot in terror. 

The creature came within five feet of them. 

This close to it, Scully could see the detail in its black leathery
skin, the size of its knife-like teeth, the sheer power of its
musculature - and sensed the intelligence behind its glowing
green eyes. 

She saw the large tranquilizer dart jutting from its neck and
realized the team-leader had managed to squeeze off a shot
moments before this thing had ended his life. Its limbs were
trembling slightly. It made a deep, wet sound filled with
sadness, and sat down in front of them; like a huge, demonic
dog at its master's feet. 

Beside Scully, Mulder stared wildly at the thing. It was then that
Scully realised that it was carrying something between its teeth.
It jutted its head forward and dropped it at her feet. 

A large combat-knife. 

The creature made an awful keening sound, and nudged the
knife forward with the tip of its snout. 

And suddenly Scully understood. 

It wanted her to kill it. 

"Pramesh?" she muttered shakily. 

It keened again, a sound full of anguish. Scully glanced horrified
at Mulder and saw tears in his wide eyes. 

As if in a dream, Scully kneeled in front of the powerful
creature, inches from its terrifying face - and picked up the
combat-knife. Mulder didn't try to stop her. 

The thing gently placed one of its huge front claws on her thigh
and turned its head, offering Scully its throat. 

Her insides shimmering with sadness now, she swallowed - and
plunged the blade deep into its neck, twisting it so the wound
would have no chance of closing. 

The thing shuddered and made awful gurgling sounds, and
Scully couldn't help but press a hand to the side of its face as
she stared into its eyes. 

With Mulder standing powerlessly at her side, Scully knelt there
in the corridor and watched as the creature bled to death in front
of her. 
                     

* 
              
July 22nd 2012 
Vigil Taskforce Headquarters 
Washington D.C. 
11:16 a.m. 

There were only three people sitting at the large mahogany table
in the centre of conference room. The blinds had been drawn to
block out the sun, casting the space in a dim half-light. 

Taskforce-Leader Janet Lessinger glanced at Mulder, then
Scully, and then back down at their report on the screen of the
Macbook in front of her. She scrolled through their case-notes
as well as photographic documentation of the carnage at
Vedanta's office-complex. 

"No photos of this creature?" she asked quietly without looking
up at them. "This biologically-engineered combat-unit?" 

Mulder shook his head. "As it states in the report, Scully and I
torched the corpse of this thing before Vigil affiliates, Boston
PD or CDC arrived on the scene." 

"We weren't going to take any chances," added Scully. 

The taskforce-leader peered up at them. "That's probably a good
thing. CDC found no airborne toxins or hazmat at the site. The
remains of this thing were clean. But they've still taken
precautions and already cleansed the site." 

Mulder felt a flush of angst within himself. He stared pointedly
at the woman and asked, "Was NSA or CIA out there too, after
we left?" 

She didn't answer him, but the look in her eyes told him
everything he needed to know. 

He sighed. "So this whole thing's been classified. In total,
thirteen people are dead; including Labyrinth members and
people connected to Vedanta Biotech...and NSA just wants to
sweep it all under the rug?" 

With an exasperated look in her eyes, Lessinger said, "Fox,
listen to me...they want the same thing we want, but they and
CIA have seniority as far as intel goes..." 

Mulder glanced at Scully and then peered back at the taskforce-
leader. "I thought the Vigil taskforce was created to avoid this
kind of bullshit? Am I wrong? We're supposed to be trying to
protect the United States from a domestic terror threat, from
within our *own* network...and yet here we are with the
bureaucracy...same as ever." 

The woman frowned, not unsympathetically. "I'm sorry. I know
you both put your lives on the line for this. And I swear to you,
if I had *any idea* how messy this thing was going to get - I
would never have sent you both out there alone." 

Mulder peered into her eyes for a few moments. "I believe you.
But that doesn't change the fact that Vigil's mandate is being
compromised by the people who are supposed to be helping us,
and nor does it change my assertion that both NSA and CIA
have been infiltrated at some level by members of the Labyrinth
faction." 

Janet Lessinger turned her attention to Scully, fear in her eyes.
"Dana...I'm assuming you share his suspicions?" 

Scully's expression was grim and resolute. "Absolutely. It's all
there in the report. Mulder and I believe that the sniper who
attacked us was working directly on behalf of someone within
the National Security Agency." 

The taskforce-leader nodded and sighed. "If it's any
consolation...I agree with you. The thought that my own former
agency is now working against me...it makes me sick to my
stomach." 

In a brazen, unprofessional move Mulder reached out and took
Janet Lessinger's hand. In a voice that was almost a whisper he
said, "Scully and I nearly died out there, Janet. Contact some of
your old NSA buddies - people you trust, and start asking
questions; off the books, outside of Vigil's protocols. It's the
only way to really piece this thing together. I don't mean to
overstep my bounds here but from one investigator to another
- I have a feeling that someone pretty high up is trying to ruin
our chances of protecting our country. And if we don't figure
out who we can really trust, I honestly believe we could be
looking at a major incident occurring on US soil before the end
of this year." 

Mulder took his hand away. He could see in her eyes that his
words resonated and frightened her. Lessinger turned and looked
at Scully. "And you agree?" 

Scully just nodded pointedly. 

The taskforce-leader pressed her lips together for a moment, and
then quietly muttered, "I'll make some calls..." 

Mulder smiled gratefully at her, got up and left the conference
table. Scully followed. As they reached the door the older
woman said in a more professional tone, "Mr. Mulder, Dr.
Scully..." 

They both turned. 

"Thank you. Vigil thanks you." 

In their sleek, sun-lit private office Mulder went over to the
windows that ran the length of the back wall and pressed his
forehead against the glass. From his faint reflection he could see
that his face still looked like a bruised and swollen mess. His
entire body still ached from his altercation with the sniper. 

He took a long, slow breath. 

Scully came up behind him and slipped her arms around his
waist. He peered at her faint reflection in the glass. There was
some bruising around the side of her mouth from where Nirmal
Shah had punched her. 

"You ok?" she asked quietly, pressing her face gently against his
shoulder. 

"I guess so. I'm happy that we're still alive, Scully." 

She chuckled as she embraced him. "It'll take more than that to
bring us down, Mulder." 

"Is it really gone?" he asked quietly. 

"Hmmm?" 

"The guilt. Over what you told me in Bethesda about William.
Is it really gone?" 

"I think so " 

He eased out of the embrace and turned to face her. He smiled.
"That pleases the hell out of me." 

She laughed. "Me too." 

Gently, he avoided the bruising at the corner of her mouth and
kissed her. When he pulled away he said, "We're going to find
him, Dana. Even if we don't get him back...we'll make sure his
adoptive parents do. We'll save him. And we'll stop
colonisation. *Somehow.*" 

He gently traced the gold crucifix hanging at her throat. "I have
faith," he told her. 

She smiled at him, and Mulder saw desire in her eyes. That look
always thrilled him. 

She pulled away, went to his desk and retrieved something.
Taking a few tacks from a clear plastic box on the desktop, she
went over and pinned the I WANT TO BELIEVE poster to the
office wall. 
                     

**************************************