Julia Chapter Four Disclaimers, etc. in Headers Undisclosed location West Virginia Mountains June 3, 2000 9:13 a.m. Unbidden, a line from the Apostle's Creed drifted through her stunned mind. 'On the third day, he rose again from the dead....' "Fuck!" Krycek's epithet was explosive, shattering the eerie calm in the room. "I killed that motherfucker! God damn son-of-a- bitch!" He was pacing, using his good hand to rub the sweat from his face. The Appointing Authority's speech hadn't lasted long; he promised a return to normalcy as quickly as possible. He also said he would keep the public informed with daily reports. Cancerman - the Appointing Authority, from this day forward - smiled as the blue-on-blue logo of the Federal Emergency Management Agency faded to black. Their world had changed in two and half minutes. "Looks like he's alive to me." Scully's flat voice cut through the stream of curses like a knife. Arms crossed, she stood flanked by the Gunmen, all of them with accusatory stares. "He was dead." Krycek stopped, his eyes focused on nothing, blank shock pounding his voice down to a whisper. "He was dead." Scully snorted, dropping her arms to move forward and grab Krycek's arm. "Well, now he's not. So what the hell are we supposed to do now? I assume he knows about this place?" Shaking his arm, her words rose in volume. "Talk to me!" Krycek jerked and shook her off, his sanity back in a flash. "No he doesn't. This was part of Strughold's mining company, abandoned after you and Mulder broke in here years ago. I kept it up just in case I ended up on the wrong side of the fence when...." He broke off, his jaw working with residual anger. Sarcastic laughter burst from Scully. "I should have known you couldn't do the job right, Krycek. You should have kept to his side of the fence, don't you think?" Their host curled his hand, as if he was about to strike her, fury darkening his face. Scully stood firm, her chin lifting. Her arms crossed again, an immovable wall in the face of his anger. Eyes of steel blue dared him to make a move toward her. She had withstood much better blasts of intimidation, from far worthier opponents. They stood like roosters poised to fight for several seconds, then Krycek said through clenched teeth, "Don't fuck with me, Scully. I'm gonna bring him down if it's the last thing I do." He stalked away. "Now what?" Byers came up beside her, the slight tremor in his voice betraying just how frightened they were. Not only by the message they'd just seen, but by the impending fight they'd almost witnessed. She sighed, her fists uncurling, her arms dropping. The slight shake of her hands went unnoticed by everyone but her; she ran her damp palms over the seams of her too-big jeans. "He's still alive," she said simply. "If Cancerman lives, Mulder lives." Her gaze met Byers' with calm resolve. "That's all I care about." ********** Washington, D. C. January 29, 2001 2:45 a.m. Julia had no idea where the limousine was taking them. She had so wanted to see the lights of D. C. once again, but was thwarted when their escort insisted they don black hoods. Next to her, Eliza was wheezing. Julia slid her hand across the leather seat until she grabbed the other woman's; she squeezed urgently. "I'm okay," Eliza panted, "I'm just a little claustrophobic." Julia crushed the rising panic; she hoped that Eliza would make it to the end of the trip. Administering first aid would definitely blow her cover, and she didn't know if she had the heart to deny medical aid to anyone, including Eliza. Hoping to calm her, Julia rubbed her thumb across the back of Eliza's hand, humming nonsensically, like her mother had done for her so many times, soothing hurts and banishing nightmares. It didn't occur to her it was quite possibly the last time she would ever sing. The humming unconsciously transformed into soft, slightly off-key words. "'And if that mockingbird don't sing -'" She trailed off, the word 'sing' echoing in her head. "'If...'" "If that mockingbird...." "It's okay, Julia," Eliza said. "You don't have to go on. Unless you want to." "I can't," Julia whispered, her throat hurting with unshed tears. "I can't remember the words." "I'll sing for you, okay?" For all that she was a mercenary bitch, Eliza was the only friend Julia had in the world. They'd grown to tolerate each other, if not like each other. Julia had vowed not to let anyone get close to her again, and she thought she really should stop this right now. But she couldn't. "'If that mockingbird don't sing..." Eliza's voice was stronger, more pleasing to the ear. It reminded Julia of her mother's. "'Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama's gonna buy you a....'" Eliza's voice abruptly stopped in time with the car. They both felt a draft of cold air, followed by muffled conversation. Julia figured it was a checkpoint of some kind, the first of many, she was sure. The Appointing Authority would be nothing if not cautious. The temporary respite from the journey had quieted the women. No longer did they speak, no longer did they sing. Instead, Julia counted the minutes between one checkpoint and the next, although any hope of escape was futile. But it didn't hurt to file the information away. Finally, the hum of the tires changed into a roar. Underground, Julia thought. A tunnel, or parking garage. Most likely a tunnel; she'd always wondered if the rumor of a mile deep elevator descending into the ground from the White House was true. This was probably not beneath the White House, but it certainly proved beyond a doubt that it could be done. Eliza started fidgeting again. No such luck she'd realize she was underground; her claustrophobia would put an end to her excitement fairly quickly. Julia was so tempted to tell her, then thought better of it. The woman had sung to her. The time for pettiness was past. "Get out." The harsh command was barked through the intercom before they'd even stopped completely. A rush of carbon monoxide accompanied the opening of the rear door, and rough hands lifted Julia from the seat. Behind her, the car sped away. "Julia?" The frantic cry came from beyond her left shoulder. "Here. I'm here." The two women were walked into the elevator, where they joined hands again. "Julia, I'm scared," Eliza whispered. *Now* she realizes the mess she's gotten into, Julia mused. Too little, too late. "Be strong, Eliza. This could be the feather in your cap, remember?" Eliza's hand jerked in hers. Before she could reply, the elevator glided to a stop. They were pushed into a warm room, their shoes sinking into shag carpeting. "We don't need these anymore, gentlemen." The hoods were removed and Julia blinked several times, adjusting to the brightly lit foyer. "I'm Laura Boulden," the woman purred, one elegant hand extended in greeting. "You must be Julia." A thousand dollar smile accompanied the words. "Yes," Julia said, then timidly lowered her voice. "This is -" "Eliza Marcotte, yes, I know. I believe you used to work out of New York, is that right?" Swallowing her fear, Eliza's kiss-ass personality returned with a vengeance. "Laura Boulden? *The* Laura Boulden?" "Chief Administrator in charge of the escorts, yes. I prefer 'escorts,' by the way." In other words, the term 'concubines' was strictly taboo. "Please follow me, ladies. The Appointing Authority will see you shortly." Julia thought the woman looked rather like Grace Kelly, with her cool blond looks and pristine accent. Philadelphia, maybe? Or Boston? The three of them walked through a door flanked by armed Guardsmen. There was an older woman sitting at the lone desk; she immediately picked up the telephone. "They're here, sir," she murmured, then gently set the receiver back into its cradle, nodding at the overstuffed chairs in the far corner. It was only a matter of minutes, but it felt like hours to Julia. Hours spent sitting perfectly still while Eliza smoothed her hair into its former shining cap. When she reached into her pocket, the soldier in the corner started forward, machine gun raised. "It's only lipstick, see?" Eliza crooned, then proceeded to apply the silvery pink shade to Julia's lips. "Damn, I wish I had my compact. You're too shiny." They'd been relieved of their belongings at the airport, as well as searched thoroughly. Julia looked into Eliza's worried gaze, stilling her mentor's shaking hand with a cool touch. "It'll be okay, Eliza. Don't worry." Eliza searched her gaze for several agonizing seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the telephone buzzed. "Sir? Yes, sir," the secretary hung up and faced the women. "You may go in now." She gestured at the massive mahogany doors. "Let me do the talking," Eliza said. No problem, Julia thought. May as well get used to it. The stench of cigarette smoke burned her nostrils. He stood with his back to the door, supremely confident in his security, admiring the landscape of scattered street lights laid out before him. Julia strained to pick out familiar landmarks, but could find none. It wasn't surprising; there would be no more light creeping up the Jefferson Memorial, no lamps bathing Lincoln's seated figure in an eerie glow. Those were things of the past, men of the past. The future didn't include monuments to the fallen. Laura closed the door behind them before moving to his side, one jeweled hand coming to rest on his arm. Julia couldn't make out her whispered words, nor read her lips. The only light in the plush office came from a single lamp on a paper- strewn desk. The Appointing Authority turned at last, his eyes narrowing in the hazy glow from the lamp. "Come into the light." She and Eliza started forward. "Not you," he barked at Eliza. "Just you." He nodded at Julia. On shaky legs, she slowly walked toward him, stopping when she heard his gasp. "My God," he breathed. "It's uncanny." He walked around the desk and took her hand in his. It was all she could do to stifle the flinch. "Julia, isn't it?" Julia nodded, her face expressionless. The old man fingered the silky hair that hung around her face. "Is this natural?" he asked Eliza, not looking away from Julia's sky-blue gaze. "I think so, sir. But even if it isn't, I'm sure it will be no problem to touch it up -" "Her chin is too broad. Same determined stubbornness, but too wide nonetheless." "We can fix that, sir," Laura suggested. "No, it's not good if she's too perfect. We tried that before, with disastrous results." Laura nodded in agreement, falling silent once again. "The eyes are the same color, though almost oriental in shape. Was your mother a geisha, by any chance?" Julia remained mute. It wasn't her place to speak, not anymore. He smiled at her timidity, and faced Laura. "She'll do. Prepare her, Laura. I want her ready by seven this evening. That gives you a little over fourteen hours. Can you do it?" Laura nodded, although Julia was sure this man didn't care if his madam could handle the rush or not. His orders were law; she'd better be ready by seven this evening or heads would roll. He returned to his contemplation of the Washington skyline and lit another cigarette. From the far corner of the room, a lone figure emerged and approached him, dismissing the women with a cold glare before murmuring something to the man at the window. Julia paled and barely managed to stifle the gasp that burst from her. She knew this face, had seen it in some of her worst nightmares before the Invasion. Its hard planes and angles reminded her of the Frankenstein monster, making her cringe with horror even in her dreams. She could still hear its flat voice, feel its arm choking her, holding her in place while a trade was made years ago on a Virginia bridge. Could this be why the Appointing Authority looked hale and hearty? Did this shape-shifting alien have the ability to heal like Jeremiah Smith had? God, maybe she'd been wrong these past months. Maybe Cancerman hadn't needed Mul - Don't think, don't think, she told herself. He may be able to read your mind. She backed away quickly at Laura's insistent, "Come." Laura didn't have to tell her twice. As soon as they were out the door, Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. "That wasn't so hard." Laura flashed an impatient look at the woman and moved ahead of her, taking Julia by the arm. "You may choose a maid, if you wish. A companion, of sorts. Someone to keep you company when your services are not needed." Julia paused before the elevator, facing Laura. "I choose her," she said, nodding toward Eliza. "May I, mistress?" Laura threw disgusted look at Eliza before answering sweetly, "Of course, my dear. Anything you want, just ask, and it will be yours." Except for my freedom, Julia thought. Eliza was so happy, she could hardly contain herself. "Thank you, Julia," she whispered into her ear as they boarded the elevator. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." "You sang for me," Julia replied simply, as if it had been the greatest gift in the world. She stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirrored doors, unblinking. Her heart cracked at the beauty... but it wasn't her. She would never be herself again. "That's all I care about." End Chapter Four