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Kadaitcha
by Michael Aulfrey
Part 5/7

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Mulder reached his room, unlocked the door and stepped inside.
To feel the muzzle of a gun at his temple.
"Don't move."  A female voice addressed him, probably the holder
of the gun.  "Close the door.  Quietly."  The pressure of the gun
left his head, but he knew even without looking it would be
trained on him from some short distance away.  He put his hands
up, slowly turned around and closed the door.
"Sit down.  On the bed."  The voice was quiet, and in the darkened
room he couldn't quite make out where it was coming from.  The
shade was pulled down and the bars of light around it eliminated
with black masking tape.

He sat down, trying to make out the location of the voice.  But he
heard the click of the gun as the woman eased the hammer down onto
the bullet.  "Sorry I had to do that, agent Mulder.  But I
couldn't guarantee you'd listen to me any other way."
"You think I'll listen now?" he retorted quickly, but remained
calm.  His mind was spinning down corridors of escape; but all of
them were too slow for the gun she held, even uncocked as it was.
"Believe me, Mr. Mulder, if I had any other way of doing this, I
would.  So please stop tensing yourself for any heroics and just
listen."

He saw a shadow move, and the woman came into the dimness issuing
from the bottom of the doorway.  She was dressed in tight-fitting
clothes, and had long hair, but he couldn't quite make out her
face except that it had angular features to it.  The gun, he saw,
was pensile in her left hand.
"I believe we have a mutual friend."
"What do you mean?"  he asked carefully, though he had a surge of
adrenalin as he realised where the conversation could be leading.
"I don't have many friends.  Those I know, I think, never
mentioned you."
"Call him an acquaintance, then.  An acquaintance who...knows
things."
He considered the implications of that.  "...Deep Throat."  He
nodded to himself.
"I'm afraid not.  I said we have a mutual friend.  Present tense.
I never met your late source, myself.  I heard about you and the
Purity Control affair.  A shame.  We didn't have anybody higher up
than he was."
"We?"  He was trying to identify the voice.  A slight English
accent on it...
The woman did not reply.
"You're not American," he guessed.
"Bright boy.  No.  But then, a lot of us aren't."
"Who's 'us'?"
"Concerned parties."
"I need to know more than that--"
"You don't want to, Mr. Mulder.  Not unless you want to be one of
us.  And I think our mutual friend has already established you
don't."  A vision came back to him; Scully, comatose in hospital
after They had suddenly discarded her into his life again.
Shadows on walls.  Shadows of Mr. X raising his gun to finish off
one of Them.  Being told about the men who would be raiding his
apartment that night.  Him weeping like a child in the ruins of
his apartment.
"What's going on here? How would the US government have the
authority to work here..."
"Power reaches across all boundaries, agent Mulder.  Deep Throat
forgot that.  Make sure you don't.  But I will say this: there are
those who have waited for a long time for the events happening in
Starkey's Creek."  She pointed to his table.  "You'll find a file
with some documents in it."
"What documents?"
"One is a mining survey of the area around Starkey's Creek.  The
other is the deposition of the survivors of an Australian Army
platoon.  The platoon was in this area some years ago on a
military exercise.  Study them carefully, Mr. Mulder.  A man gave
his life so those documents could reach your hands."  She put her
gun into a holster under her left arm and started for the door.
"Wait--" he reached out an arm to her, which she stopped and
stared at.  "How do I find you?"
"You don't.  Surely you know how to play this game by now, agent
Mulder.  You've had enough practice at it."

Another memory flashed before him; CancerMan, peering intently at
him. 'I'm gaining greater respect for you, Mulder.  You're
becoming a player.'  He looked up, but she was already out the
door and gone, slamming the door behind her.  And Mulder was alone
in the darkness.

        	  *         *         *

"Why didn't she show up before now?" Scully was pacing back and
forth in Mulder's room, reading the documents the woman had left.
"I think because she didn't know about it before now.  The TV and
radio reports were out yesterday.  Before then, only Crawford and
a few local police knew about it.  So whoever is interested what's
happening here only got very short notice of it as well."
"And you think that's the reason Crawford was pulled off the case?
Mulder, that's insane."
"All right, so they aren't already in the area.  But maybe this is
only the start.  The woman I spoke to said there were a lot of her
kind, both in the US and abroad.  What if there are operatives
inside other law enforcement agencies, specially briefed to keep
their eyes open for this sort of thing?"
"That's paranoia.  I'll accept something is going on at home that
we don't have the full facts on, but now you're alleging the
existence of an international conspiracy to keep the truth from
the public!"
"She came to me, Scully.  And she wasn't from America.  Look at
the documents--the debriefing has Australian Army authorisations
all over it."  He paused, looked away from her.  "Dana..."  She
looked up, startled at the use of her first name.  His voice was
suddenly soft.  "I want you to get out of the country, back to
America.  Get Crawford to take you back to Geraldton, then book
the first flight out."
"Why?"  She put the documents down, and walked over to him.  His
head was bowed, his eyes closed.  He opened them and looked at her
squarely.
"Because if the woman knew that I was here, then they'll know both
of us are here.  Crawford had to fill out authorisation forms,
remember?  We've had too many brushes with them before.  But you
can get out.  I have to stay and find out what's happening here."
"No, Mulder.  I'm staying."
"Death in a foreign country would suit them just fine, Scully.  We
disappear here, and nobody will come looking for us."
"They could do just the same in the US, if they're so influential.
That's assuming I believe your story at all."
"Scully---"
"No.  If you disappear out here, I'll be the next target no matter
what happens.  Because I'd come looking for you."

Mulder looked at her, his expression unreadable.  Scully stared
back at him, defiant.
It was therefore of considerable surprise to them both when they
found themselves in a tight embrace.  Mulder looked down at
Scully, through the intricate weave of her hair at those beautiful
eyes of hers...and there was a knock at the door.  They hurriedly
spilt apart, smoothing down creases in their clothes, even as the
door opened and Crawford came inside.  His expression was
downcast.  "Ready to go?"

Mulder glanced sideways at Scully, who shrugged.  "I don't think
we're quite ready to leave yet, Mr. Crawford."  He picked up the
documents and handed them to the Australian cop, who glanced,
puzzled, at them, then peered at them with dawning recognition.
"Where did you get these papers?" asked Crawford, looking with
some bewilderment at them both.
"It doesn't matter.  What does is that there's still a crime to be
solved here, and I think these documents may be the key to it."
"These are defence documents, agent Mulder.  Material of the
highest clearance.  Even Australian Federal Police have a hard
time requisitioning such documents for clear-cut cases.  I want to
know where you got it."
"Like I said, it doesn't matter.  If I'm right, you've already
committed a crime by even reading them."
Crawford stared at him for a moment, then grinned and laughed.
"All right, Mr. Mulder.  I'll bite.  What's going on?"
"We need to take a look at the site the survey was performed on.
I'll tell you the rest as we go."

         	 *         *         *

"The documents are from a military exercise, Operation Kangaroo,
in this area.  Starkey's Creek apparently wasn't the centre of the
war games, but there was a platoon in this area.  Thirty men,
assigned to protect the area as part of the exercise.  Twelve
hours after they took up positions on the hill, they called for an
emergency evacuation, at about 11:00 pm.  Headquarters asked them
to define the situation and casualties, thinking it was a ruse.
It wasn't.  They said they were under attack from a commando force
that was killing them one by one.  It took two hours for approval
to be gained from High Command, and by the time they were dusted
off, there were only three men left.  The other twenty-seven were
listed as Missing In Action."  Mulder took a moment away from the
documents to rub his eyes and look at Scully and Crawford.  The
Australian had his eyes on the road as he drove, but it was clear
he was listening intently.  Scully's eyes revealed nothing, merely
a neutral expression, neither belief nor disbelief.  "The
survivors were left were barely coherent, it seems.  They talked
about monsters from the hills themselves.  One of them, though,
did report that some of the bodies found were skinned.  In others,
critical decapitation had occurred."  Mulder.  "Which sounds like
someone we know."
"Thirty men...a whole platoon."  Crawford shook his head.  "That's
crazy.  They would've had ammunition.  Machine guns, rifles,
grenades, flares...and it took them down one by one?"
"And nobody came close to seeing whatever it was.  That's one of
the survivors' depositions.  The thing was, though, that they were
all armed.  More sport that way.  It was hunting them."
"I'm not convinced," said Scully.  "This happened, when, more than
fifteen years ago.  And now the same killer is meant to be out
there again?  Why would he stop for fifteen years, assuming it's
even the same one?"
Mulder didn't say anything to that.  Crawford nodded towards the
other document.  "What's that say?"
"The mining survey says that they found a high content of uranium
out in the area the soldiers were in.  Apparently, the surveyors
gave a very favourable report for mining the stuff out there."
"And yet they never mined it," mused Crawford.  "Interesting.
Western Mining ought to be crawling all over that site."  He
peered up ahead.  "There it is."

The fence was glimmering.  Stainless steel in the midday sun.
Mulder's inspection of it was cursory.  "There's something here,
all right."
"Somebody asserts their rights to a valuable piece of property and
you think it's out of the ordinary?" countered Crawford with a
tolerant smile.
"It's a mining site, right?" said Scully, looking closer at the
fence.  "Undeveloped? No construction on it?"
"Yeah.  So?"
"Then some of your native fauna can dig up uranium. The fence is
electrified."
"Somebody doesn't want anyone on that piece of land," said Mulder
as Crawford peered at the terminals of batteries and insulated
wire.  "Look at the way the road just runs up to the fence and
stops.  There isn't even a gate here.  They put a wall up around
the site and then leave it."
"So what do you think is going on here?" asked Crawford with a
shrug.
"I don't know.  But you don't put electrified fence up in the
middle of nowhere and then say that you're not protecting
something above ground."  Mulder remembered the woman's words.
"Unless you're waiting for something to happen."
"Mulder--I just had a thought.  What about the traces of metal?"
"Probably gone by now, Scully.  New investigation, remember?
Whoever wants us to stay out of there probably also made sure they
disappeared en route back here."  Mulder chewed his lip.
"Crawford, I think that the answer to this whole mess is somewhere
inside that gate.  Do you have wire cutters or something like them
in your car?"
"You're putting a lot of stock in what could be a false trail,
agent Mulder."
"We don't have anything else to go on, right? And look--this area
is within at least driving, maybe walking distance of the sites of
the murders.  They aren't mining uranium up there, that's for
sure."
Crawford was chewing his own lip now, regarding Mulder with an
equivocal gaze.  "I think there's a set of wire cutters in the
car.  All right.  Let's take a look inside."  He headed back to
the car's boot, opening it up.

Scully glanced at Mulder, saw the expression on his face, and knew
it was almost time for The Theory.  But she also knew he probably
had some idea of what was going on, which was more than she could
boast of.  She sighed to herself and walked close to him as he
gazed through the wire at the featureless terrain within.  "So
what do you think?"
"There's a high concentration of uranium inside the wire, Scully.
I've got a feeling that what's been killing the people around here
might be something generated by nature."
"You're suggesting the uranium has mutated one of the local fauna
into a killer?"
"Not the fauna.  The killings have been too clinically done for it
to be less than good old homo sapiens.  It could be that someone's
been conducting a radiation experiment here."
"Uranium in its natural state isn't unstable, Mulder.  That's half
the problem they had in developing the atom bomb during World War
Two--how to separate out unstable Uranium-238 from natural
Uranium.  Now you're saying that the area is radioactive enough to
provoke a mutation in a human form?  That doesn't wash."
"Uranium is the heaviest naturally-occurring element that's been
discovered.  I'll accept that.  But what if they found something
here that doesn't obey the rules?  Nature loves its little jokes,
after all."
"It still doesn't explain why they would have left it here all
this time."
"Maybe it was too unstable to transport.  Or maybe the mineral
itself has a strong effect on human tissue.  But later they
discover that very effect is what makes the mineral so valuable."
"Why do it all the way out here?"
"Why not? It's away from Congress.  You don't need any more
funding than what it takes to set up a wire fence.  Nice, quiet,
remote and convenient."  He turned from the fence to look at her.
"So?"
"I think you'll have to come up with a better theory."  Scully
turned towards the car, where Crawford was just concluding his
search of the cluttered boot.  He slammed it closed.
"I thought I did have some cutters here, but I was wrong.  We'll
have to go back to the station to get them."  They got into the
car.

As soon as the engine thrummed to life, the green light of the
police radio they'd hurriedly put in Crawford's car also came up.
Coughed out a burst of static.

Then gave way to a voice that was coloured with dirt, grime and
fear.

"Code One, Code One! Officer down, need assistance! Repeat, anyone
on this channel please respond--"
Crawford's hand was at the 'send' button even before Mulder had
time to blink.  "Morris, this is Crawford.  Say again--"
There was an awful crashing sound from the CB unit like an
explosion, and then Morris' screaming voice came through again:
"Jesus Christ Almighty, I need backup out here now! Onslow Road,
near the Huntington place! Christ, somebody get some backup out
here!  I--"  There was another blast of static, and then silence.
"Morris? Come in! Morris!"  Crawford stared in horror at the CB
radio's impassive silence.  He looked up.  Mulder and Scully, in
the car, were looking at him with faces like mirrors of his own.

He dropped the microphone, pounded the clutch to the floor and
jammed the gearstick into first gear.  Mulder grabbed at the
doorhandle as the Australian pushed the accelerator to the floor
and wrenched the wheel hard right.  The car, its tyres growling
and screeching on the loose gravel, spun around in a tight
semicircle as the track they had come down wheeled into view.  The
engine began to whine heavily as Crawford tried to put the
accelerator through the car's floor.

         	 *         *         *

The smoke was visible from about a kilometre away.  Crawford's car
was screaming down Onslow Road as Mulder squinted to see it.  The
road itself dipped downwards into a gully, a canyon of sorts, a
rip in the earth created by some river which had now gone the way
of all flesh and sanded down by millions of years of hot wind.
Crawford's eyes did not move from the road as slopes of red sand
and green vegetation rose up on either side of the car.

Then, around a corner, there it was.  A regular police car, tipped
onto its side and smoking heavily from the front half.  The
underside was towards them as Crawford brought the car to a halt
and they jumped out, running towards the upturned car.  Around the
other side, through the smoke, Scully saw the form lying on the
ground, and she headed towards it.  A police officer.  Paul
Morris.  She was beside him in a second, feeling for his pulse.
Her mind professionally blocked out the horrific injuries he'd
suffered; it was obvious he had suffered third-degree burns, his
skin black and smoking in some spots.  To say nothing of the
lacerations.  He had no pulse.  She dipped her fingers into his
mouth, clearing the airway, then tipped his head back and began
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation combined with CPR.  She was dimly
aware of a blur beside her--a blur that resolved into Crawford,
kneeling down.
"Keep going with mouth-to-mouth.  I'll take CPR."  Despite the
horror, he was grimly efficient.  "Mulder, see if you can find his
partner.  He's got to be around here somewhere."

Mulder scanned the area quickly, but saw nothing.  At the edge of
his periphery, he heard Crawford: "One thousand.  Two thousand.
Three thousand.  Four thousand.  Breathe!"  A moment's pause.
"Come on, Morris.  Pull it together!"

A gleam of light out of the corner of Mulder's eye attracted him,
and he turned towards it.  About ten metres ahead, in the gutter
of the road, he saw its source and headed for it at a run.

In the drain was the other officer.

Mulder was suddenly running back towards them, his hand going to
the pistol they'd issued him with at the beginning of this mess.
"Get him up as quick as you can.  We're out in the open."
Crawford looked up at him incredulously, still going automatically
through the motions of CPR.  "What're you talking about?"

Mulder glanced back towards the body.  He couldn't see anything
but the tip from here, but his memory filled in the rest.  The
officer was impaled on a long, heavy spear, which had been driven
into the ground.  With the officer on it.  Blood ran like a river,
the red of the ground and the fluid mingling in the hot sunlight.
"It's here.  It hunted them down."

Scully hadn't heard him.  She put a final breath into Morris'
throat, and then felt for his pulse again.  This time she sadly
took her hand away.  "There's nothing more we can do for him,
Crawford."
But now Crawford was looking at Mulder with an open stare.
"He's dead as well, Crawford.  There's a spear sticking out of
him.  It's the same weapon as was used at the other site."

They both looked at him openly.  The air was quiet apart from the
crackling of the flames from the wreck of the police car.  Then
they were moving quickly towards Crawford's car, each of them
scanning the surrounding area with their eyes.
"I'd better call for some more backup--"


END OF PART 5/7 (Sorry to stop it in mid-scene..:))