The X-Files: The Truth Revealed

Chapter 49

Underground Facility - Atlantic Ocean 

Low light from a couple of computer screens illuminated the small room Musgrave stepped in to. It was enough light for an old sergeant to recognize the senior-ranking officer whose face was as grim as always. Rising from the seat he'd been dozing in, the sergeant stood at attention. 

"At ease, Sergeant. No need to stand on formalities." 

"Thank you, Sir," Sergeant Yannone relaxed, slouching a bit. "What brings you up here, General? Been some time since you come up for air." 

"Special guests are arriving tonight, Sergeant. I want to be present when they get here." 

"Rolling out the red carpet, aye," the crusty old man acknowledged the importance of the occasion. "Good for you, Sir. 'Bout time you had company. You're so driven. If you don't mind my sayin' so, Sir, you need friends and a nip off the old jug from time-to-time." 

"Never was one to relax," Musgrave said, almost as if he was enjoying the conversation. 

"Take it from me, Sir. All work and no play will burn you out quicker than a fat Italian woman," he chuckled. 

"Thank you for that advice, Sergeant Yannone. I will try to remember that," he looked at his watch. "Raise the pad site." 

"Right away, General," the old man eased his way down in front of the computer he'd been seated at. "Used to be in the old days, we did everything by hand. Sure as hell wouldn't want to crank this mother up by hand though," he pressed the touchscreen, moving through a series of steps. 

An alarm sounded, followed by a red flashing light. 

"Turn that racket off," Musgrave ordered. 

"Can't, Sir, but don't worry. It don't last long," he said, the alarm and light ending only a few seconds later. "Pad site's ascending, Sir. It'll reach the surface in a couple of minutes. So... your guests, Sir. Might they be family?" 

"I have no family." 

"That's a sad thing. Man needs a family." 

"What about you, Sergeant?" 

"Me? Oh no, Sir. My blessed Freda passed on some time ago, God rest her soul. That's why I stay on in service. No kids or grandkids. It was just me and her. Best Italian woman ever. Could she cook," he said with fondness, remembering his late wife. 

"How much longer?" 

"She's almost up, Sir. Heading to a stop as we speak." 

"Very well. When it's in place, give the green light." 

Above the Facility - Atlantic Ocean 

Mulder watched the platform rise up out of the ocean, pushing the sea away from it. With a loud, heavy thud, the platform's internal gears clicked into place, securing it a foot above sea level. 

Taking Scully's hand, Mulder helped her out of the raft and up onto the platform whose concrete floor was slick with a wet, salty slime that crunched beneath their feet. They waited as the others climbed out of their rafts and onto the platform. With careful footing, they made their way towards an elevator which was part of the pad itself. Opening the hatch, Mulder stepped into the low-lit elevator housed within thick, walls - walls that had been built to withstand water pressure while maintaining a tight seal. The others followed behind, cramming their way into the small space. 

Scully felt like a sardine, packed side-by-side in an aluminum can. Fortunately, unlike sardines, they still had possession of their heads. But for how long? She shivered as Grant closed and sealed the hatch and pushed the green button to the right of the hatch. 

The floor vibrated and then jolted beneath them before it steadily made its way downward. Mulder sensed Scully's unrest. He felt a bit of it himself. 

"You good, Scully?" he referred to the tight hold she had on his hand. 

"Just brings back memories," she admitted, recalling being pulled from the helicopter and dragged into this very same elevator. Acknowledging her fear, he put his arm around her and drew her close. "I just want to find William and get the hell out of here. I'm tired, Mulder. I'm tired of the darkness." 

He hugged her tight, all too aware of the darkness she was referring to. 

Doggett watched his friends, a twinge of bitterness rising up within him. At least they had a chance of finding their son alive. When he'd searched for Luke, he never felt the hope he saw in Mulder and Scully. Why? Why do some live while others die? He swallowed hard, forcing down the injustice of it. It wasn't that he didn't want them to find William. He just wished it had been different for he and his wife. What I'd give to have Luke back. 

Skinner fidgeted. Sweat trickled down his temples. He hated tight, cramped spaces - had ever since Nam. One too many tunnels, one too many foxholes, one too many situations he had no control over. Packed in this elevator, it was all he could do to remain calm as his mind tried to pull him back to the past. He refused to let it, choosing instead to focus on the light he'd looked upon earlier. 

Bitterness wasn't Doggett's alone. Grant felt it rise within him when he looked over to see Mulder put his arm around Dana. She'd paid so little attention to him since Mulder came into the picture. A part of him hated the man because he had what Grant wanted - Scully's heart. It didn't seem fair. He was the one who had nursed her back to health. He was the one who had rescued her, at least from the cell that held her prisoner. He almost wished their time alone in the depths of the spaceship had never come to an end. Then they would still be together, alone, without Mulder. 

The Gunmen's feelings were pretty much even across the board. They'd discussed it earlier among themselves as they watched Scully chew out her brother quietly cheering her on. They'd been friends with Mulder and Scully for nearly as many years as they'd been friends with one another and to the Gunmen, friendship meant something. They aimed to do whatever it took to help rescue William and eliminate the scumbags that wanted all of them dead. These seals on their chests meant that a greater power they knew nothing about had chosen them - that it had quite possibly given them their life's skills for this very purpose. They agreed they had no right to back out, to chicken out, to leave their friends high and dry. No, they were in it to see it through to the end, one way or another... good or bad, live or die, though they all agreed that staying alive was the preferred way to go. 

Gibson, on the other hand, heard all their thoughts, sensed all their fears and anxieties. He tried to focus on their feelings, so he didn't have to dwell on his own. In the cramped quarters descending to the facility, he was surrounded by fear and determination, jealousy and loyalty, hatred and love. Glancing at each face, he knew all of their thoughts, knew their personal strengths and weaknesses, knew their hopes and dreams, desires and struggles, and he knew who could be trusted. 

What scared him the most wasn't what each person was feeling, but that he wasn't the only one who knew their feelings. Evil was present in this very place where they stood while descending downward. It surrounded them even now, searching for a way to bring about failure - to bring their lives to an end. But even more than that, it wanted them to join it, and that's where Gibson's own fears resided. He was afraid someone would.