Battle over the Atlantic 

Thirty miles from the facility, a battle raged. The Alvin, the small MOI submersible which had been silent on the ocean floor between the Atlantis and Escondido, released two buoys when the USS Musgrave settled above it. Though it had no weapon systems of its own, the buoys contained healthy payloads of nitroglycerin and TNT. They struck the underbelly of the Musgrave where the ship was vulnerable, spilling ocean water into the huge holes the explosives had opened up. 

Immediately following, the Escondido's three MH-60T Jayhawks took to the air. Without mercy, they pounded the Musgrave and its crew with their 50-caliber armor piercing rounds, cast specifically for this mission. Each round contained a significant amount of magnetite, designed to disperse on impact, tearing away at the super-soldiers. 

Volley after volley, the Escondido and the Atlantis used every weapon their ships had been refitted with, attempting to destroy the alien aircraft that was topside on the Musgrave. Only a few made it to the air, but they quickly destroyed the Jayhawks. Fortunately, they fell to the same destruction as targets of the Escondido's 62-mm anti-missile machine guns. 

As the Musgrave sent its army of super-soldiers outward to board the Escondido and Atlantis, it became a battle for human survival. Equipped with magnetite ammo in their guns, they surprised their enemies. Because of their superior strength, the aliens hadn't even armed themselves, believing all along that they would simply overpower the humans with their hands. 

Hours later when the battle was over, when the Musgrave began to sink in earnest, McGuinness and Delony looked out from the deck of the Escondido. Every ship had sustained heavy damage. Even the Alvin resting on the ocean's floor had been destroyed. 

The critically injured were moved to the Atlantis - the Escondido absorbed those with lesser injuries. The Vincent would eventually become a ghost ship as it took on water. 

"Contact the Atlantis," McGuinness ordered Delony. "Tell them to head to port. They need to get the injured back home. We'll stay on here." 

"Right away, Sir." 

McGuinness looked the length of his ship. She'd taken a hell of a beating, but she was still afloat. He was thankful for that. He was even more thankful he wasn't Admiral Scully. It would be hard enough explaining the damage to his own ship. Losing an air craft carrier and explaining that to the Navy... he was glad he was a member of the Guard. 

Underground Tunnel 

Frohike had just set the final charge in the eleventh tunnel when a transmission came through. 

"Guys," he called to the others, signaling them to join him. "How many?" he asked the person on the other end of his cell while taking care to remain fixed on his watch's second hand. "Okay, I will." 

He tossed the cell phone to the pavement knowing it was good for only one communication to avoid detection. The others waited to hear his report. 

"Our boys topside just reported in. They've been in a hell of a battle since sun up. But gentlemen, they won!" 

Langly and Byers cheered. Jeremiah was more subdued, knowing the enemy would not be so easily defeated. 

"What of the Musgrave?" he asked. 

"Setting up housekeeping with the fishies," Frohike answered. 

"Awesome!" Langly expressed his sentiments. 

"Unfortunately, so is the Vincent." 

"Not so awesome," Byers added. "Is Scully's brother okay?" 

"He's feeling a bit of shell shock, but that's gotta be better than how bad he's going to feel when he has to kiss ass and apologize to Mulder and Scully." 

"For her sake, I'm glad he made it through." 

"The Atlantis is heading to port with the injured. The Escondido is making its way to the rendezvous point," Frohike said. "We have two hours before they'll send the rafts to pick us up. We're about finished up here, aren't we?" he asked, looking around to everyone who nodded in agreement. "Leaves the main tunnel to the US, and we're done." 

"I wonder how the others are making out," Byers said. "I had this feeling earlier..." 

"Same here, and it wasn't the oyster stew," Frohike said. 

"We can't do anything about it," Jeremiah advised. 

"Except watch each other's back on this last tunnel. It's going to have a lot more traffic than the others," Frohike confirmed. "If Mulder and Scully find Will... it'll all be worth it." 

Jeremiah walked slightly behind the Gunmen as they headed to the truck. It was a victory of sorts, defeating the Musgrave. But Jeremiah knew the war had just begun. 

Area Under Construction 

The group came upon an area that was under construction. At first they thought to bypass it, but something drew Mulder to investigate it further. They searched every room, opened every door and closet that wasn't locked. Quietly, they called to William, but with no response. Even Gibson sensed nothing. 

Mulder walked away from the group, aware that something spoke to him on a deeper level. Something inside led him, just as it had led him to the building in Democrat Hot Springs - just as it had led him to the bomb in Dallas years ago - just as it had led him to Scully's location at Donnie Pfaster's - always leading him to the unlikely, where his fellow agents mocked and discounted him - until they realized he was right. 

"Anything?" Scully asked with hope. 

He didn't answer her, but started off down one of the corridors. 

"We've already searched that area, Mulder," Scully called after him, but he kept on walking, looking for something he couldn't quite grasp. 

"He knows," Gibson mumbled. 

It took Scully a moment for Gibson's words to register. When they did, she started after Mulder, realizing Gibson was right. Mulder had that look - the same look that sent him left when she was sure they needed to go right - the same look that said here when everything pointed there. Scully caught up to him but had to double-time to stay beside him. He stared straight ahead. Somehow, just as he always did when they were with the FBI, he knew exactly where to go. Gibson and BJ fell in behind. 

At the end of the corridor, Mulder turned to his right, to another long corridor. The others followed his gaze. 

"Is he down there?" Scully asked, doing all she could to remain calm, but the anticipation of finding their son was beginning to get the best of her. "Mulder?" 

"No," he said, taking several steps backwards. He turned suddenly and raced twenty feet in the opposite direction where he came to a sliding stop in front of an elevator shaft. He grabbed left and right on its frame and leaned forward, looking down. He strained to see but saw only darkness. 

Without hesitation, he took a few steps back and then thrust himself forward, leaving the doorway behind as he leaped out and grabbed hold of the elevator cable that was barely visible in the shaft. The rough wire cut into his palms but if he noticed, he displayed no indication of it. William was down there. He knew it, and that's all that mattered. He was so focused on getting to his son, he never heard Scully's cry of objection as he briefly sailed through the air towards the cable. 

"Excuse me," BJ pushed his way between Scully and Gibson who were now looking into the shaft, watching as Mulder disappeared into the darkness. 

BJ sat down on the ledge, closing his eyes and tuning everything and everyone out. His lips moved, but he uttered no sound. Scully and Gibson watched in silence as BJ extended his right arm out before him. Slowly, he turned his hand around so that his palm faced up as if he were praising God above. Within a short time, a fire was ignited in his hand. 

Scully and Gibson took a step back, initially fearing the flame, but they quickly realized it brought no harm to BJ who brought his other hand into it, molding it into a ball. Pulling both hands back, the fire floated in the air before him, waiting for his command. It came silently, ordering the fireball to descend into the shaft. 

From somewhere above, Mulder sensed light before he ever saw it. While just a moment ago, he was completely blind in the dark shaft, the cable above and then his hands grasping it suddenly came into view. Within another moment, he looked to his right, eye level with a ball of fire suspended at his side. He looked up and could see Scully and Gibson looking down at him, their silhouettes in the lighted doorway. He knew BJ was with them, but all he could see were his arms and legs over the threshold of the door. Looking once more at the ball of fire, he continued down the shaft, the fireball remaining at his side. 

Nearing the bottom of the shaft, Mulder looked down, sensing William's presence as he continued in his descent. At first, he wasn't sure if his eyes were imagining things, seeing William simply because he wanted to or because he was actually there. But within the space of a heartbeat, he was kneeling beside his unconscious son. 

"William?" he lifted the boy's head slowly and placed his hand flat against his son's chest, feeling for life. "He's alive!" Mulder called up the shaft, hoping Scully could hear him. She did, and tears sprang to her eyes as she cradled herself, waiting for Mulder to bring William up. 

At the base of the elevator shaft with the fireball lighting the space around him, Mulder could see that William was badly injured. His arm was tucked at an odd angle beneath him. Blood stained his temple and ran from his nose and from the corner of his mouth. 

"William?" Mulder whispered, but there was no response. 

Carefully, he untangled the boy's arm. Sure enough, it was broken. Mulder looked around. There was absolutely nothing in the shaft that could be used to brace it. If William woke, the pain would be excruciating, but there was nothing Mulder could do to prevent it. He would just have to tough it out if he regained consciousness. 

Removing the belt from around his waist, Mulder thought for a moment on how to best use it. He could think of only two options, neither of which were very good. He had to secure William to his own body so that his hands were free to climb the cable. 

Very slowly, he lifted William into a seating position where the boy's head rested against his chest. Mulder stopped briefly, feeling the life of his son in his arms. Don't worry. I'll get you out of here. 

Positioning the belt around William's back beneath the boy's shoulders, he secured the ends of the belt in one hand and hoisted William onto his back. Leaning forward so that William's weight rested against him, he hooked the belt on the furthest notch and stretched it as much as he could, extending it from his chest. Struggling with the angle, he pulled the belt up and ducked his head through the loop to where the buckle dug into the back of his neck. Testing it, he stood slowly upright. As he'd hoped, William's body didn't slip free. The only problem he foresaw was how quickly the belt would cut off the flow of blood to his arms, as the leather bit into his armpits. However, he could think of no better way to secure the boy to himself. 

He knew it would be difficult, but until he actually started the climb, he hadn't realized just how difficult. His hands and arms quickly numbed from the belt cutting in under his arms. William's weight was a continual strain as the gravity of it pulled Mulder backwards, away from the cable. He tried to ignore it, concentrating on the task ahead, thankful for the fireball that lit the way. 

Scully and Gibson watched Mulder's slow climb. From this distance, there was nothing they could do. They could almost feel the strain of William's weight on Mulder. His labored breathing as he struggled to keep going reached their ears, and they watched helplessly as he stopped twice to secure his grip on the cable, each speaking words of encouragement to urge Mulder on. 

Mulder had stopped looking up some time ago, afraid that the distance would seem out of reach. He couldn't let his mind defeat him, and so he ignored it - ignored the cable cutting his hands - ignored the stickiness of his blood - ignored his inability to take a deep breath. He thought only of Scully and of delivering their son into her waiting arms - arms that had been waiting far too long to hold William. 

As he neared the opening of the shaft, Gibson placed his hand on BJ's shoulder, bringing the shape-shifter back from wherever he'd brought the fire from. BJ gasped for breath, exhausted from keeping it lit. When his eyes opened and he saw that Mulder was nearly within reach, he pushed himself away from the opening, the fireball fading as he slid backwards. He didn't have the strength to rise, but lay face-up on the cold tile floor. There he rested, eyes closed, unmoving. 

Gibson heard Smoking Man's thoughts before he ever saw him. He quickly pulled Scully away from the shaft, forcing her to kneel beside BJ against her wishes. She started to protest, until she saw Gibson's eyes pleading with her to do as he wished. But Mulder and William, her mind screamed. Gibson shook his head slowly, forcing his attention on BJ. 

"That's where you've gotten off to," Scully heard Smoking Man, quickly coming to realize why Gibson had insisted that she move away from the shaft. 

"He collapsed," she directed at Smoking Man, acting as though the man's appearance wasn't a surprise. 

"The old shape-shifter's spent," Smoking Man grinned. "Perhaps we should put him out of his misery," he said, indicating to the super-soldier closest to him to draw his weapon. 

"No, don't kill him!" Gibson yelled, making sure he was loud enough for Mulder to hear his protest. 

"Perhaps you're right," Smoking Man conceded. "After all... he is one of the twelve, and we can't go killing off any more just yet," he said with satisfaction. "Do tell... where's Mulder?" 

Scully looked to Gibson and then at Smoking Man. 

"We split up." 

"Split up? And all this time I thought you two were a match made in heaven," he joked, though Scully was unimpressed. "Come now, Dana. No sense of humor? I'll ask you again. Where's Mulder?" 

"I told you," she stood and faced him. "We split up. He went one way, we went another. You know Mulder. He likes working his own angles." 

"My boy hasn't changed after all these years. Still living like it all depends on him. He gets that from me, you know. Very well, won't you join me," he nodded, and two super-soldiers grabbed Scully and Gibson's arms. 

"Where are you taking us?" Scully protested loudly. 

"We'll just let it be a surprise." 

She and Gibson were pushed on ahead of Smoking Man. Other super-soldiers dragged BJ from behind as the group moved away from the elevator. 

Inside the shaft, Mulder strained to hold on. As soon as he'd heard Smoking Man's voice, he descended the cable, moving back into the darkness and away from the hallway's lighting. He didn't know how long he could keep this up. His hands were somewhere at the ends of his arms but he had lost almost all feeling in them. How he was able to hold on, he didn't know, but he knew he had to get off this cable. He had to act now or risk falling when his grip failed. 

Straining his way until he was level with the doorway, he eyeballed the distance. There was no way he could hold the cable and reach over and grab the floor. It was too far, and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from making several attempts, stretching as far as he possibly could. It was no use. 

His only chance of success would be to climb higher and take a shot at jumping in the direction of the doorway. If he was lucky, he might make it. There would be only once chance and if he missed, it would be certain death for both of them. 

Feeling he had no choice but to risk it, Mulder climbed another ten feet up the cable. Somehow, he was going to have to hang onto the wire as long as possible, and push himself at the same time towards the doorway. It wasn't going to be easy. He found himself thinking of Scully. All he ever wanted was to bring William to her. For years, he'd dreamed of doing it, but once again, doubts mixed with failure tugged at him. 

With a quick God help me, Mulder pushed away from the cable, reaching out as the floor moved quickly towards him. His right hand caught it but his left missed, and he dangled from it, William's weight making it all that much harder to reach up with his free hand. Please he found himself asking for help. 

In a last ditch effort as he started to lose his grip, Mulder swung up as high as he could with his left hand, reaching in desperation towards the floor above. Knowing he was going to fall short of where the floor was and certain that failure was within reach, he gasped when a strong hand latched onto his wrist. He struggled to look up towards the light shining down from the doorway. 

What he saw made him wish he'd fallen.