Value & Honor
by Forte
(Forte1354@aol.com)

Please see Chapter 1 for rating, summary, disclaimer, etc.


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- Chapter 8a -

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Office of the Lone Gunmen
Saturday, 8:10 a.m.


Mulder pounded on the Gunmen's door for the third time.  "Come on,
guys, we know you're in there!" Through the door he could hear the
shuffling of feet.  Scully waited beside him, not touching him but
close enough that he could feel her radiating body heat.

"Jesus, Mulder, you know we're not morning people," Frohike
muttered, as he unlatched the multiple locks.  After a half-dozen
*snicks* he opened the door to the Gunmen's unexpected visitors.

"I heard that.  Top of the morning to you, too, Frohike," Mulder
responded.  He ushered Scully into the Gunmen's office, hand at her
back.  Frohike closed and re-locked the door.

"So what gives?" Frohike asked, his tone shouting irritation at
being roused so early.  He looked almost comical, hands on hips,
wearing black jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a furry vest, all
looking like they'd been rescued from a pile on the floor.  Thick
gray socks flopped a bit at his toes.  Even his face looked like it
had been pulled on with haste.

"Remind me never to drop by before you've had your first cup of
coffee," Mulder quipped.  He placed Scully's laptop computer on the
nearest clear space, then yanked off his jacket and tossed it on
top.  "We need your help."

"We guessed that."  Langly approached from the direction of the
Gunmen's sleeping area.  He had pulled on jeans and a Ramones
T-shirt, complementing the outfit with black high-tops.  Byers
followed in what was, for him, a casual outfit: dress slacks,
pullover sweater, and loafers.  Both shared Frohike's half-asleep
countenance.

Scully set her briefcase on the floor and pulled several printed
pages from her coat pocket.

"We need you to decipher some encrypted e-mail messages that we
received this morning."  She moved over to a table and spread out
the four sheets of paper.  "We also forwarded the e-mails to you."

The Gunmen crowded around the table to look at the pages.  "Who sent
these to you?" Byers asked.

"Kurt Crawford," Scully answered.  Her eyes remained fixed on the
pages on the table.

"Wow, that's a blast from the past.  He was that guy at the Lombard
Research Center in Pennsylvania, wasn't he?" Langly asked.  "You
told us there was a bunch of Kurt Crawfords there."

"Yeah, that's the guy.  One of them, anyway," Mulder replied.  He
stood behind Scully, almost hovering.  For some reason he felt
uneasy, as though he needed to stand over her to protect her from
some unseen force.  "He was waiting for me at my apartment last
night."

"Ah, so Crawford was your distraction," Frohike commented.  "Why was
he downloading from those medical journals?"

"He's looking for evidence that would corroborate a new gene therapy
technique," Scully replied.  "Gene therapy that he believes Dr.
Scanlon developed to control the development of cancerous cells.  It
may be related somehow to the chip in my neck."  All three Gunmen
gave her quick, concerned looks at the mention of the chip and the
doctor who'd nearly killed her.  "Kurt believes that they've located
Dr. Scanlon," Scully continued.  "But he wouldn't tell us where. 
Not yet."

"We'll do anything to help you find that murdering punkass," Frohike
declared.  Byers and Langly nodded their agreement.

"Kurt told us that he wants us to go with him to their research
facility, and that he'd be in touch with us this morning."  Mulder
gestured to the pages spread out before them.  "We got these
messages at home and at work."

"We're assuming that the messages will tell us where to go to meet
him," Scully added.  "Their research..."  She trailed off, then
cleared her throat.  "Were you able to download the information I
asked for from those medical journals?"

Langly paced over to a nearby row of computers.  He checked three in
quick succession.  "They're all finished -- we ran them overnight. 
Did them separately to save time."

"Good.  I'd like copies of as much of that information as possible."
 She gestured toward her laptop.

"No problem."  The blond man loaded a disk into a CD writer, then
typed some commands at each computer.  While they whirred, he
disappeared into the kitchen.  Scully shrugged off her coat, then
reclaimed her laptop from where Mulder had placed it.  She began to
set it up on a nearby table.

Meanwhile, Byers and Frohike were studying the mysterious pages and
had begun an animated discussion about various forms of encryption. 
Mulder tried to follow their conversation but gave up when they
began debating the finer points of color, font, original language,
and other potential attributes of encrypted text.  As he gazed at
the pages laid out on the table, his mind wandered back to the first
e-mail he'd received from Kurt Crawford.  The message that had so
thoughtfully roused him from his bizarre dream.  No, wait, that
wasn't the message that woke him up...

Shit.  "Scully?"

His partner looked up as he approached her.  Her laptop hummed as it
booted up.  "Hmm?" 

"I forgot to tell you earlier," he said, looking sheepish.  "The
guys didn't have any luck when they searched for Kurt's name in car
rental and travel records."

Scully nodded.  "That's not much of a surprise.  We didn't think
they'd find anything."

"Have any ideas on what other names he might have traveled under?"

Her brow furrowed as she thought.  "I suppose," she began slowly,
"that if, for some reason, he were trying to leave a trail for us to
find, he might have used the last name of one of the women from
Allentown."

"Hey, breakfast time."  Langly came from the kitchen carrying a box.
 "Java's brewing."  He set down the box and pulled out a
chocolate-enrobed donut.  "Breakfast of champions," he declared,
taking a big bite.

"Langly, take another look at these," Byers urged, gesturing to the
four printed messages.  "Neither of us recognize this style of
encryption.  Does it look familiar to you?"

Langly studied the pages for a long moment before shaking his head. 
"I don't see any patterns, no combinations of characters that
repeat.  It just looks like gibberish."

Byers turned to Mulder and Scully.  "Are you certain these messages
are from Kurt Crawford?"

"I think we have to assume that they are until we have some reason
to believe otherwise," Scully responded.

The bearded Gunman shook his head.  "We'll do our best, but this
could take some time."

"Time," Mulder replied, "is exactly what we do not have."

"Then let's get started," Frohike stated.

Langly returned to the computer area to retrieve the completed CD
and gave it to Scully.  Frohike moved to the computers as well,
pulling up the copies of the e-mails that Mulder and Scully had
forwarded to them and making back-up copies before loading them into
their encryption-breaking software.  "Another piece of surplus
technology bought from Uncle Sam and improved tenfold by us," he
announced proudly.

"Did you guys keep copies of the passenger manifests and car rental
records you checked last night?" Mulder asked.

"Of course," Byers replied.  He started typing at one of the other
computers, pulling up the information.

"And you still have a file containing the names of the women from
the MUFON group in Allentown?"

"Two for two," Langly responded, and then all three Gunmen were
typing at a PC.

Mulder grinned.  "Remind me to give each of you a really big bonus
at Christmas."  He moved to where his partner sat, standing closer
than usual and lowering both his head and his voice to speak to her.
 He couldn't explain it, but his protective instinct was prodding
him again.  "I'm going to search those lists for the names of the
MUFON women."  He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

If Scully noticed his nearness, she chose to say nothing about it. 
Instead, she nodded her agreement with his plan and very lightly
tapped a finger on the closed door of the CD-ROM drive.  "I'm going
to skim through these files from the medical journals for a little
while to see if I can find anything relevant."  Then she brushed a
few fingers across his arm, and turned toward the laptop to start
her work.

Neither noticed the three Gunmen watching them, and then looking at
each other with raised brows, before Mulder left her side to start
his own search.

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After what felt like hours of tedious review, Scully glanced at her
watch.  Only 9 a.m.  She sat back in her chair, rolled her neck,
then looked down at the pad of paper she had pulled from her
briefcase to use for jotting down notes.  It was blank.  What she'd
read so far contained nothing that she hadn't already seen in one of
the other medical journals to which she subscribed.

< Well, this is a dead end so far.  Of course, Kurt wasn't certain
that he'd find anything. >

She looked around the room.  Mulder sat at one PC, engrossed in his
search of the passenger manifests.  By the look on his face, he had
come up with the same nothing that she had.

The Gunmen were crowded around two other computers, and seemed to be
enthused about the path they were following.  Would they be able to
break the encryption?  How long would Kurt wait for Mulder and her? 
Where could the Kurts' research lab be?

Damn.  Why hadn't they just gone with Kurt to begin with?  Why the
hell had they let him leave the night before?  They let him take his
weapons, take his laptop, put on his coat, and walk out the door.

Weapons.  Laptop.  Coat.

Coat...

"Mulder."

He looked up at her.  "Hmm?"

"I was just thinking.  Wondering where the Kurts could have their
research lab."  Mulder's expression asked her to continue.  "When
Kurt left last night -- he was carrying a raincoat, and it was wet. 
Water rolled off of it onto your floor."

Mulder's eyebrows went up.  "It wasn't raining yesterday."

"No, it wasn't.  Not in Washington.  It must have been raining
wherever he came from."

"Where he came from isn't necessarily where the rest of the Kurts
are."

"That's true, but it's all we have to go on at the moment."

In less than a minute Mulder was logged on to the Internet, Scully
at his side, leaning over his shoulder.  Inside of five minutes
they'd reviewed weather patterns for the previous forty-eight hours
over North America.  Most of the continent had been free of rain. 
However, the remnants of a late-season tropical storm had blown up
the East coast, staying well off-shore until it reached eastern Long
Island and New England on Friday morning, bringing heavy rain and
localized flooding.

Mulder jabbed a finger at the weather map.  "The Northeast, Scully. 
If Kurt flew in yesterday from such a relatively short distance,
that would explain the coat still being wet."

Scully leaned closer to the PC, pointing to the monitor, her forearm
on Mulder's shoulder for support.  "So it's likely that he traveled
>from Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, or the eastern part of
Connecticut, Massachusetts, or Long Island."

"Hmm."  Mulder hummed his agreement, then pivoted to look at her. 
"That will really narrow down the number of passenger lists that I
have to look at."

"Good," Scully said, straightening.  "You can keep checking from
that angle."  She gestured toward her laptop.  "I'm not making any
progress here.  It's -- " she glanced at her watch again, "almost
nine fifteen.  I should head back to the office to finish that
report for Kersh on those child murders."

"Leaving already?"

"Mulder, once we take off after Kurt Crawford, who knows when we'll
be back?  We'll have enough trouble if we don't make it to work on
Monday.  I don't think we should risk irritating Kersh further by
not having that report in his hands on time."

Mulder stared at her, an inexplicable panic running through him. 
For a third time, the feeling of needing to protect her from
something unseen crawled over him.  His voice lowered.  "You have
the files and the laptop, Scully.  Couldn't you just work on it
here?  We can drop the report off at the office on our way home."

Scully paused before responding.  "I'd rather... work on it alone." 
Her eyes pleaded with him to understand her need for privacy.

He wanted to tell her, "I have a bad feeling about us not being
together," but knew that that wouldn't go over well.  Mulder blinked
at her, biting back the uneasy feeling, imagining her response. 
< "I'm an armed Federal agent, Mulder.  I'll be fine." >  Finally, he
nodded.  "Okay, Scully."

She turned to go back to her laptop.

"Scully... before you leave."

She faced him again, eyebrows raised.

"This trip to meet Kurt should be as far off the record as
possible."  He turned in the direction of their three friends, still
working at their computers.  "Frohike?"  The Gunman looked up at
him.  "We're gonna need some ID's."

"Tell me what you need and give me some names."

"Driver's licenses.  Credit cards."  Mulder considered for a moment
before adding, "You still have pictures of us, right?"  Frohike
nodded.  "Make us passports, too."

Scully had returned to her laptop and was writing something on the
pad of paper.  She looked up at Mulder, the question in her
expression.  Passports?

Mulder shrugged.  "He may have traveled to DC from New England, but
the lab may be in Canada."

"You don't need a passport to go to Canada," Frohike protested.

"I know, but we may still need to prove U.S. citizenship.  I just
want to be prepared."

Scully nodded her agreement with his logic and ripped the top sheet
of paper from the pad.  "Here's a name for me," she said, walking
back toward her partner.

Mulder took the page from her and glanced at the name she had
written.  Then he added a name for himself and handed the sheet to
Frohike.

Scully approached the other two Gunmen.  "Any progress?"

"Nothing definitive," Byers replied.

"We've tried a bunch of different translations, based on known forms
of encryption, but nothing's panned out yet," Langly added.

"That doesn't sound very encouraging."

"We've only been at it for an hour.  We've got plenty of other
things to try," Frohike assured her.

Scully returned to the table with her belongings, nodding, but
Mulder could tell from the set of her jaw that she'd lost much of
the optimism they'd had only minutes before.  He joined her,
observing her preoccupied demeanor as she shut down the laptop. 
Finally, she slipped the CD and pad of paper into her briefcase and
pulled on her coat.

"Scully."  He touched her arm.  "We'll find them, Scully.  One way
or another, we'll find them." 

She met his eyes and nodded.  "I know."  She picked up the laptop
and briefcase and made her way to the door.  Mulder followed.

"I'll call you as soon as there's news," he said softly.

"I know," she repeated.

Mulder released the locks on the door and opened it to let his
partner through.  He touched the familiar spot on her back as she
passed by, then closed and re-locked the door.

And once again the Gunmen diverted their eyes before he turned, to
hide that they'd been watching the two agents.


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- end Chapter 8a -

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