Isolation, Chapter Twelve
Brian looked at the two men in confusion. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"Don't you remember me?" Frohike asked.
"I'm sorry, I don't," Brian said, looking panicked.
"Unbelievable. We lived together for years!" Frohike exclaimed,
watching his old friend's face go totally white.
"Not the way you seem to think," Frohike added hastily, "not that
there's anything wrong with it. But I got a thing for the ladies,
man. Seriously."
"I think we're moving a little too fast for Mr. Jordan," Mulder
suggested. "Do you have a few minutes to talk? My name's Mulder, by
the way, and this is Melvin Frohike."
"I'm expecting my wife any minute," Brian said. "Whatever you have
to tell me, maybe it's something she should hear, too."
"You're married?" Frohike exclaimed. "Of all the --"
"Settle down, Frohike," Mulder said. "I think it might concern her,
too. It has something to do with your past. Nothing bad," he
hastened to add, seeing Brian's expression change again. "Weird,
maybe. I think you'll both find the information of interest."
Brian sat down suddenly. "Are you -- did you know me? Before the
accident?"
"What accident?" Frohike asked.
"I was in a boating accident. It was six years ago, in San Diego.
I don't remember anything about it. I was the only survivor," Brian
said. "They told me I might never regain my memories. No one who
knew me has ever come forward before now."
"That's because--" Frohike started to explain. Mulder cut him off.
"I think we should wait until Mr. Jordan's wife is here. We can
explain it to both of them," he suggested.
"Explain what?" A woman stepped into the office. She was dressed
casually in jeans and a sweater, her blonde hair pulled back into a
ponytail. "Brian, what's going on?"
"I -- I don't know," Brian said. He stood up again, remembering his
manners. "This is -- Melvin Frohike and Mr. Mulder. I'm sorry, I
didn't get your first name," he said to Mulder.
"Fox Mulder," Mulder said. "You must be Mrs. Jordan?"
"I'm Annie Jordan, yes," she said, standing by Brian. "What is this
about?"
"These men say that they know me," Brian said.
"Really?" asked Annie. "Then, where have you been for the past six
years?"
x-x-x
Connie supposed it was time she went home. Everyone here had been
nice -- even Roger -- Langly -- was nice in a distant way. He seemed
to look through her, not at her. He didn't mind her company,
especially if he could show off some of his hacking skills. It
seemed to her that Roger was still in there, somewhere. But his
focus had changed, and he obviously knew all these people who came
and went in this place that he now called home.
Mintage Sound had been her home. At first, it had been just a place
to crash, one in a long line of temporary shelters. Little by
little, she'd made a place for herself there. Roger had stood in for
family -- acting like a bossy big brother sometimes, mostly pursuing
a policy of separate but equal as far as their private lives were
concerned. He'd allowed her to create her own living space. It
wasn't something that would ever appear in House Beautiful, but it
was hers.
She flopped on the sofa in the lounge. She wasn't sure she wanted
to go back to Chicago without Roger. He was the boss, the engine
that drove the studio. She wasn't sure she could do it on her own;
she wasn't even sure she wanted to try. Oh, the people here had said
stuff about getting help for her. It just wouldn't be the same.
Maybe she could persuade Langly to go back with her -- maybe being at
the actual studio would help him to remember.
She picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Someone was always
switching it to CNN -- that Mulder guy, probably. He seemed to be
the one in charge. News was boring; there was always something
getting blown up or blown down or flooded or --
She sat up as the announcer said, "...in the gradually gentrifying
warehouse district on the outskirts of Chicago..."
"Roger!" she screamed. "Langly! Come here quick!"
x-x-x
Either Morris Fletcher was an expert at covering his tracks online,
or he, Langly, was losing his touch.
He doubted that the latter was true. He tapped away, and set
another program to search protected databases on Connie's computer.
She'd gone into the other room to take a nap. He could hear the
murmur of the TV. Other than that, the only sounds were his fingers
clicking on the keyboard, and the whirr of the machines around him.
Connie exclaimed "SHIT!" from the other room, startling him. She
came running into the computer room.
"Ro - Langly, come here quick!"
Langly followed her into the lounge in time to see it: a large fire
in a warehouse district near Chicago. Connie grabbed the remote and
turned up the sound.
"...it's not known what caused the explosion which started the fire,
or if anyone was in the building. The spokesperson for the Chicago
Fire Department says they expect to have it contained by nightfall.
At this time, none of the surrounding buildings are in danger. In
other news..."
"We've got to do something!" Connie exclaimed.
"Yeah, but what?" Langly said. "We're too far away. It's too late."
"I checked everything before I left, I swear," Connie said. "I set
the alarms, I was really careful."
"I'm sure you were," Langly said. Connie looked so lost standing
there. "It wasn't your fault." He reached out and hugged her around
the shoulders. "We'll find out who did this, and make him pay."
Connie leaned against his shoulder and sobbed. Awkwardly, Langly
patted her and let her cry.
He had a pretty good idea who did this. He needed to get hold of
Mulder and tell him what was going down.
x-x-x
Annie volunteered to go get sandwiches from Donna's. "You can stay
here," Annie suggested to Mulder and Frohike. "We'll come back and
then you can tell us why you came all the way to Perdita, instead of
just picking up the phone."
Mulder and Frohike looked at each other. Frohike shrugged; he
wasn't sure they should be let out of sight, but Mulder seemed to
think it was okay.
It was a short walk, just across the street. Mulder could see them
talking to each other as they slowly walked away.
"You don't think they'll make a run for it, do you?" Frohike
wondered.
"Why would they do that?" Mulder asked.
Frohike shrugged. "I don't know. Wouldn't you be suspicious if
some strangers showed up claiming that they knew you, and that they
had something important to tell you?"
"I think it'd be more likely they'd get some of their friends to
come back with them, to make sure that we didn't try anything. We're
outnumbered here, Frohike."
"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Annie asked Brian as they
waited for their order.
"No, I don't remember them at all, but they seem to recognize me."
"We don't have to go back there," Annie slipped her hand into his.
"We could go out the back way and get the car, and leave for vacation
early. We're practically packed."
She could see that Brian was only tempted by this idea for a moment.
He didn't know what these two men wanted any more than she did, but
it was obvious that he wanted to find out. "No, I don't think we
should," he said gently but firmly. "We can't do that. Why run
away? We've done nothing wrong."
Annie stood closer to Brian and he put his arm around her. "You're
right," she said, although she wasn't completely sure. It was so
important to Brian to know about his past. "Whatever it is they want
we'll listen to them, and then we can decide what to do."
x-x-x
Skinner's private line rang. The ID screen was blank, which was not
a surprise; the few people who had this number were not trusting
individuals, and with good reason.
"Hello, Sir," said a familiar but unexpected voice.
"Dana, this is an unexpected pleasure," Skinner said. He'd expected
to hear from Mulder rather than Scully. He'd already heard about
Chicago from Agent Reyes; she and Agent Doggett were on their way
there.
"Thank you, Sir. I'm sorry I haven't called since we've been back."
He could hear traffic noises; she must be in her vehicle.
"It's Walter, remember?" he said. "This isn't a social call, is it?"
"No, Sir, it's not. I'm sorry to bother you --"
"I know you wouldn't call unless it was urgent. Where is he?"
"In Northern California. Someplace where cell phone service is
intermittent, or I'd call him directly. Do you have any contacts in
the Eureka area?"
x-x-x
"That's -- that's an incredible story," Brian said as Mulder
finished telling him the tale of the Gunmen's demise and their
subsequent resurrection, with frequent asides and interruptions from
Frohike, filling in the background of the Gunmen's history and
various crusades.
"Incredible but true, my friend," Frohike said.
Brian and Annie sat side by side at the table in the Perdita Press'
office, opposite Mulder and Frohike. As Mulder told the tale of the
Gunmen, they moved closer and closer together, until now they seemed
joined, shoulder to shoulder. Brian took Annie's hand nearest to
him. They sat with fingers entwined as they tried to process the
astounding information these two strangers had just shared.
"I'm still not sure I follow," Annie said. "You want to inject
Brian with something to make him remember who he is? Is this stuff
safe? Has it been tested?"
"Two of us have had the 'treatment,'" Frohike told them. "No real
side effects, except that you won't remember the life you're living
now."
"Excuse me, that's a big 'side effect,'" Annie pointed out.
"It's Brian's choice," Mulder said. "I wanted to lay the facts out
to you, so that whatever choice you make is an informed one. And I
don't expect you to make this decision on the spot, though you can't
delay for too long," he added.
"What happens if I say no?" Brian asked.
Mulder rubbed his hand over his face. "Frankly, I don't know." He
was beginning to realize that it wasn't much of a choice he was
offering. If Morris Fletcher was truly a renegade, the agency he
used to work for was probably already pulling the plug. They might
be coming even now for Brian. He glanced at his cell phone; no
service bars. He'd have to find a payphone somewhere to call Skinner
and try to get protection for these two.
"It seems to me that it's not a choice between having this done or
not, is it?" Annie said, putting Mulder's fears into words. "Only
who will do the procedure, and where and when it will be done."
The bell on the handle of the front door jangled, startling
everyone. Mulder's reflex was to reach for a gun, something that
wasn't lost on the new arrival.
"Put your hands in the air," he said. Mulder obeyed. "Brian, Annie:
are you okay?"
"Define 'okay'," Annie said under her breath. Aloud she said,
"We're fine, Nate. Why?"
The man who marched into the office wore a sheriff's uniform. "Sure
you're okay?" He walked around the table to stand next to Annie and
Brian.
"I'm not armed," Mulder said. "Force of habit."
"All the same, could you please stand up and put your hands over
your head, and walk over there?" The sheriff gestured away from the
door with his gun. "You, too," he said to Frohike. "Annie, I know
you're a good shot. Why don't you hold this while I check these guys
over?"
Annie trained the gun on them as the sheriff stepped behind Mulder
and Frohike and briskly and efficiently frisked them both.
"Okay, you can sit down again," the sheriff said, and took the gun
from Annie, much to Mulder's relief. "I just got a strange call
about you. I'm not in the habit of personally delivering messages,
but the call came in at my office, and I think you're going to want
to return it right away." He turned back to Annie and Brian. "I
think you should come along, too. This concerns you."
"What is this about?" Annie demanded.
"It seems like your husband's cover in the Witness Protection
Program has been blown," the sheriff said.
x-x-x
Mulder recognized the number as Skinner's private one as he punched
it into the sheriff's phone.
"Skinner."
"It's me," Mulder said.
"Mulder. Have you heard about Chicago?"
"The sheriff here said something about a warehouse fire?" Mulder
threaded his way carefully; he wasn't sure how much of the real story
the sheriff knew. He was just outside the inner office, talking with
Annie, Brian, and Frohike. They could all be listening.
"Yes, that's right. We're concerned that Mr. and Mrs. Jordan may be
in danger as a result of recent events. Can you bring them in?"
"Are you sending someone to meet us? I'm concerned that the
interested parties already know their whereabouts."
"We've asked Sheriff Barrett to help you out. He's going to provide
transportation and we'll have you rendezvous with your protection at
the closest safe house. I don't think you want to stay in your
present location any longer than absolutely necessary."
"I copy. Where are we headed?"
"Call this number again when you get in range," Skinner said. "I'll
give you the location."
"Okay. We'd better get this show on the road."
Mulder went back out to the outer office. "I guess you've gathered
that you're in some danger," he told the Jordans. "I'm afraid we're
going to have to leave this afternoon. It takes time to get here,
but I don't know how much of a lead we've got. Sheriff, is there
another way out of town other than the highway toward Eureka?"
"There are a lot of old logging roads around here," Barrett said.
"They're in terrible condition, but they're only known to the locals."
"That rental car will never make it. What kind of car do you two
have?" he asked Brian and Annie. "It's not the best solution, but I
don't think we should head back to Eureka."
"We've got a four wheel drive," Annie said. "It's practically
packed. We were going on vacation," she added a trifle wistfully.
"That'll have to do," Mulder said. "It'll look like you're just
heading out early. Do you agree?"
Brian glanced at Annie and nodded. She seemed to be taking all this
in stride; although he didn't think that witness protection entailed
erasing the protectee's memories.
"I have a better idea," Barrett said. "Bring it here and park it in
the municipal garage, in the back. You can take my brother's SUV.
I'm keeping it for him while he's on deployment. You can tell me
where you've left it once you're safely away."
"That's a great idea, Sheriff Barrett. Thank you." Mulder said,
surprised. "That's going above and beyond interagency cooperation,
I'd say."
"Let's just say I'm doing it for an old pal in the Marines," Nate
Barrett said, gesturing to the Marine Corps plaque on his wall.
Frohike grinned. "Semper Fi," he said.
"Damn straight," agreed Sheriff Barrett.
~*~