|
Title: The Enemy Within Summary: Mulder becomes involved in a Senate anthrax scare. Agents Doggett and Reyes and Mrs. Scully are on board for this story. Writer's Note: Basic premise is taken from recent headlines. t is neither my intention to take away from nor to make light of recent events. FBI Headquarters In front of a computer monitor, Agent Dana Scully sits in her basement office with Agent Monica Reyes. They have been teamed to work together, scrolling through hundreds of surveillance films from Ronald Reagan International Airport for known and suspected terrorists. They've been doing pretty much the same thing for weeks, ever since the September 11th attacks on New York and Washington. In fact, every available Agent has been assigned to the anti-terrorist effort. While the Agents are demonstrating due diligence to the task at hand, fifty plus hours per week of looking at film sequences is enough to take anyone to the brink of her sanity. After while, everyone begins to look suspect. This assignment has given the female Agents the opportunity to get to know one another better. They certainly have plenty of time to talk, even Girl Talk. Lately, they've been known to share an occasional giggle or secret, and today is no different. "How is Mulder handling forced retirement?" Reyes asks with sincere concern in her voice. "He just started working as an investigator for a member of Congress. It's a good thing he still has some connections," Scully comments without looking away from the monitor. "I mean, after what happened to him here at the Bureau." "Oh, that's great. Sounds interesting and powerful," Reyes replies with a positive exuberance. "It must have been hard to have someone as intense as Mulder is just hanging around the house. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but he seems to be a very passionate personality." "Yes," Scully smiles. "He can be extremely intense. And that intensity, which is such a wonderful quality for an investigator to have, can be translated into moodiness at home when it's not channeled into something meaningful," Scully shares. "This assignment at the Senator's office has been a God send." "Is he working for anyone I might know?" Reyes asks. "For the past several weeks, he's been involved in an investigation headed by Senator Cummings. I'm sure you've heard of him. He heads the anti-Terrorist committee," Scully responds while scrolling forward several frames. "Dana," the tone of Reyes' voice suddenly becomes quite serious. "Did you say Senator Cumming?" "Yes, why? Do you know him?" Scully asks. "No, not personally. But haven't you been listening to the news?" Monica asks, trying not to alarm her friend and colleague. "What news?" Scully asks. "Aside from working and spending any free time I have with William and Mulder, I must admit that I haven't looked at a newspaper or television since before William was born. Unless I see a paper here at work, of course." Reyes telegraphs a look of not knowing what to say. And so, she sits there in silence. "What news, Monica?" Scully asks again emphatically, her face showing much concern. FBI Headquarters "Mulder, did something happen yesterday that you neglected to tell me? Scully asks from her cell phone, sounding exasperated. "Guess you heard about the Anthrax scare over at Senator Cumming's office?" he ascertains from the tone in her voice. "Hey, I'm fine. And at this point, a scare is all it is." "Tell me what happened," she pleads for more information. "A woman from the Senator's staff came down with the skin version of the disease," he recants. She's being treated with antibiotics and should be just fine." "Were you tested?" she asks without missing a beat. "No. They aren't even certain what day the exposure took place. I may not have even been there when it happened. However, the Center for Disease Control is being cautious. There must have been about 200 of us in the group that met with them, yesterday. They questioned each one of us every way but loose. In the end, the CDC decided to go ahead and give all of us a round of Cipro to take, just as a precaution," he reiterates. "It's the appropriate antibiotic, alright," she concurs. "You need to be sure you take all of the pills exactly as directed. Don't get halfway through them and then stop, okay?" "Don't worry. I have no interest in getting anything as nasty as Anthrax," he promises. "Did the CDC share their theory as to how this poor woman was exposed?" "They think it was most likely transmitted through the Senate mail system," he pauses for emphasis. "The woman Staffer opens the Senator's mail." "Where were you ever in proximity to that location, Mulder?" "I was nowhere near the Staffer's office," he tries to reassure his partner. "Look Scully, I'm fine. I'm taking the cure. There's nothing to worry about." "Yes, I know you're right. Cipro is the cure," she agrees. Changing the subject, she asks, "Where are you?" "I'm home all alone, just waiting for you to come home," he says sweetly. "I'm getting ready to leave and should be home in about an hour," she sounds tired. "Would you please call Mom and ask her if she would drop William by? It would save me a trip." "Sure I will," he says. "And I was thinking I might order a pizza from your favorite pizza man for dinner. I think I can manage to throw together a salad to go with it. How does that sound?" he asks. "That sounds perfect," she responds. And for the first time since her talk with Monica, she is able to give a deep sigh of relief. Scully's Apartment Scully has already changed into her sweats. Upon arriving home, she visited with William for awhile, nursed him, and put him down to sleep. Mulder had already put away the laundry and cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast. For the first time today, she can now relax. She and Mulder are seated on the sofa with a large pizza box before them on the coffee table. Beer and a salad are also on tonight's menu. "I was about to ask you how your work went today. But I just remembered the Senator's offices are closed until further notice," she says, reaching over him for a slice of pizza. "Yes. It looks as if you and William will be seeing more of me, again. As if you haven't seen enough of me already," Mulder pouts. "We don't mind," she smiles. "You're kind of nice to have around." He returns the smile and leans over to give her a little kiss. He tastes of pizza and warm beer. "Mulder, I know you probably don't want to talk about yesterday. But I have a few more questions," she tiptoes around the subject. Knowing how bad Mulder is at remembering to take pills, she asks, "You started taking the Cipro yesterday, right?" taking a bite of her pizza. She hates it when she sounds like his mother or his doctor, but it isn't every day that she hears he may have been exposed to Anthrax. "Yes, I started them yesterday afternoon. As a matter of fact, I need to take another pill, pill...Aaaachooo," Mulder sneezes in the middle of his sentence, quickly covering his face with his napkin. "Bless you," she automatically replies. "Thanks," he responds and goes back to finishing his point. "As I was saying, I need to take another pill after I eat." Taking another sip of his beer, he asks, "So, what does Kersh have you and Doggett working on these days?" It is obvious that he is intentionally trying to change the subject. "It's not just John and me. It's Monica, too," she says in between bites of her pizza. "We're still researching terrorist profiles just like every other Agent in the Bureau. And matching the profiles against surveillance tapes. Not surprisingly, the FBI is really taking a lot of heat along with the CIA. It's a common perception that we should have been able to foresee these terrorists attacks on the United States." "Frankly, Scully, I tend to agree with the common percept, percept...Aaaachooooo," he lets out another sneeze. "Bless you," she again automatically replies. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh," he utters extemporaneously. Then, setting down his plate, he stands and walks to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "I've been telling myself that I'm not getting sick, I'm not getting sick," Mulder speaks up from the kitchen. "I repeat it like a mantra. And damn it! I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick," he sounds resigned. "Where do you keep your Tylenol?" "In the bathroom medicine cabinet," Scully answers. "Do you have a headache?" After a moment he responds by poking his head out of the bathroom. "No, I feel like I'm coming down with a cold. I've been sneezing and my throat is just beginning to get that scratchy feeling." Upon swallowing the Tylenol, he returns to the sofa and sits next to Scully. She instinctively puts her hand on his forehead. "You feel a little warm. Guess we better get you into bed early tonight. But first, let's finish dinner," she says. "I think I am finished," he looks down at his half-eaten slice of pizza with an unappetizing look on his face. "But you hardly touched yours," she remarks. "You love this pizza." "No. YOU love this pizza. And you really, really love the pizza man," he jokes. "Actually, I really, really love you," Scully grins. "I'm just not very hungry for pizza right now. It will taste just as good for breakfast tomorrow," he offers, returning the grin. "Would you rather have some soup or something else? It's no problem," she offers. "No, thank you," he responds. Scully stands and picks up his water glass. In a moment, she returns from the kitchen with his glass filled. "You need to take another dose of Cipro," she says with a worried look on her face. Mulder catches her look and reaches over to pick up his prescription bottle from the end table. "Look, I can see what you're thinking," he begins, and he pops out two of the horse pills from the bottle. "But you must remember that I was held captive in a crowded room with hundreds of people. And with the CDC, no less," he jokes. "They are trying to be extra cautious and prevent the spread of a horrible disease. And isn't it ironic that due to their misdirected efforts, what they actually did was to expose each and everyone one of us to cold and flu viruses. I tell you, Scully, it's an example of our tax dollars at work," he quips and then downs the pills with the full glass of water. She can't help but giggle at his ranting. And she puts her worries aside because Mulder is right. This is probably just a common cold. Scully's Apartment Scully sits in the rocker in her living room with William while he feeds from her breast. He is such a good baby. He only wakes once during the night for a 3 a.m. feeding. And once his tummy is full of milk, he's back to sleep. This morning he is right on schedule. His suckling slows and slows until he closes his eyes and drifts off to dreamland. She continues to rock him and gently kisses her beautiful babe on the top of his head. His hair is soft on her lips. Once she is certain he is sound to sleep, she slowly stands and walks back into her bedroom to his crib. She lowers William onto his mattress as she stifles a big yawn. She remembers that today is Saturday, and she can sleep in for just a bit before William's next feeding. A little chilly from her baby-feeding excursion, she climbs back into bed and quickly gets under the warm covers. Needing more warmth, she moves to the center of the bed and snuggles up closer to Mulder. He is sleeping on his side with his back turned to her. As she scoots closer toward his wonderful body heat, she can hear air gently whistling out of his nose. She scoots over again until she is right up against his back when she realizes that he is warm, too warm. Coming up on her elbow, she reaches over him to feel his face and finds that he is burning up. "Mulder, wake up," she says softly so as not to wake William. "Hmmmmm," he stirs and lets out a soft, throaty groan. He sounds as if his head is congested. She quietly leaves the bed and returns a moment later to the other side of the bed with a thermometer. As she sits on the side of the bed, she says, "You have a fever. I need to take your temperature." A groggy Mulder opens his eyes to half-mast and his mouth so that she can put the thermometer under his tongue. She continues to sit with him while she waits for a few moments. Then, she takes the thermometer out of his mouth, switches on the light from the end table, and turns the thermometer around between her thumb and forefinger until she can read it. He immediately clenches his eyes shut upon exposure to the bright light from the reading lamp. "102.6," she says. "Well, I would say you are officially sick." "Yeah," he whispers and swallows hard. "My throat feels like a piece of raw meat." His voice is almost gone. Upon hearing his voice, she asks him to open his mouth and say, "Ahhhhhhh." He does as he's told, and she turns his open mouth toward the light so that she can have a look. "Pretty red in there," she comments, and he closes his jaw. She then begins to examine the glands in his neck when he winces at her touch. "Sore?" she asks as she presses around the back of his ears. He nods his head yes. "Your glands are pretty swollen," she says. Neither of them looks surprised. "Let's get some more Tylenol in you. And you can take another dose of the Cipro, too," she says, returning a moment later with the pills and a glass of water. He raises his head from his pillow and struggles to swallow all the pills down his sore throat, especially the antibiotics. She takes the glass from him and reaches over to turn out the light. "I need to go to the bathroom," he whispers. She moves out of his way so that he can get out of bed. He stands slowly and is unsteady on his feet. Scully rushes to his side to lend him some support. "I can make it," he whispers hoarsely after he steadies himself on her shoulder. Once he regains his balance, Scully watches as he makes his way to the bathroom, reaching for furniture and walls as support along the way. Once inside, he looks in the mirror. He can barely recognize himself. The face in the mirror is pale, and the eyes are full of fever. He walks to the front of the toilet, freeing himself from his pajama bottoms. A sudden shiver goes down his spine from the cool morning air. For someone who needed to use the bathroom so badly just a moment before, now he doesn't. So, he just stands there, waiting for something to happen. He finally feels a strong urge to urinate again, and volumes of hot urine stream into the toilet. He is amazed at how uncomfortably hot and burning it feels. Once finished, he flushes and stumbles over to the sink to wash his hands. Then, he begins to take the long walk back to bed where Scully is waiting for him. She has straightened the bed and pulled the covers down. He crawls in and let his achy body go limp. Scully covers him and turns out the light. In a moment, she is back on the other side of the bed, snuggled up beside him. She begins to rub his arm up and down in a soothing manner. Her presence brings him great comfort. "Do you think you can go back to sleep? Sorry I had to wake you, but now that you have medication in your system, rest is the best thing for you," she says softly. "Sleep won't be a problem. G'night Scully," he mumbles in a voiceless whisper. And he closes his eyes and falls immediately to sleep. "Feel better, Mulder," she says as she wraps her arms around his and lays her head near his warm shoulder. Scully's Apartment Scully is already up with William this Saturday morning. She thanked him for allowing her sleep in an extra hour, and of course she is certain he understood. Having already changed his diaper and nursed him, she is now softly singing and talking to him at the bassinet while giving him his bath. From across the living room, the phone rings. She scoops up William in a hooded towel and grabs for the cordless phone. "Hello," she says. "Hi Dana, this is John. John Doggett," he announces. "Oh, hi John," she sounds a little surprised to hear from him so early on a Saturday. "Sorry to bother you during your weekend," he can hear William in the background. "But I need to speak with you and Mulder." "Sure. Hold on just a second while I put William down." Placing the phone on an adjacent bureau, she places the babe on his blanket in the middle of his portable crib and turns on his mobile of stars, planets, and moon. Picked out especially by his father, William is always greatly entertained by his mobile. "Okay, I'm back," she says coming back on the line. "Mulder is sleeping in this morning. He's a bit under the weather. Will I do?" she asks now able to give John her undivided attention. "Sure." After a slight hesitation, Doggett begins, "Monica and I had a bite to eat after work last night. She mentioned that you had told her Mulder was involved in the Anthrax incident at Senator Cumming's office." "There's a possibility he could have been exposed. We can't be sure. Did she also tell you that he's already started on a round of Cipro, just as a precaution?" she asks. "Yes, she did tell me that," he hesitates again. "He started taking the Cipro on Thursday, right?" he counters her question with another question. "That's right, why?" Scully is becoming more curious. "Well," he momentarily stalls. "I don't mean to alarm you, Dana, but there is a report of a death this morning, someone from the Senator's staff. By all accounts, it appears to be Anthrax related," John says slowly but deliberately. "You mean the woman Staffer?" she asks with surprise in her voice. "But how can that be? Mulder said she was suffering from Anthrax of the skin. Death is a rare outcome of cutaneous Anthrax, especially if it is being treated with antibiotics." "No, this was a man who worked on the Senator's security detail. Of course the cause of death will have to be proven, but word is that he contracted inhalation Anthrax. He was admitted to the hospital early Thursday morning, before the CDC held its meetings at the Senator's offices," John reports. "He died early this morning." "Are you telling me that the CDC knew about the inhalation victim before they held the meetings on Thursday?" she asks in relative disbelief. "Not necessarily. From what I've been able to find out, I'm not so certain the CDC knew about this victim until today. But what stood out for me is the timing of the symptoms in this victim," he explains. "This is happening fast." "Or it certainly changes the timeline as to when exposure may have taken place," she comments, putting her hand up to her hair and rubbing her head. "You're right, John. The timing could be sooner than they thought." "How is Mulder doing? You said he's under the weather?" John sounds concerned. "He seemed to be coming down with a cold last night. And in the middle of the night, he started to run a fever," she walks toward the bedroom as she speaks to Doggett. "Scully, could it be," Doggett asks the hard question. Cutting him off, Scully answers, "No. He's been on the Cipro for almost 48 hours now. That tells me what he has is a virus, probably a common cold. Cipro is a powerful, wide spectrum antibiotic. The fact that he has a fever while taking Cipro means he has a viral infection, not bacterial. And Anthrax is bacterial. So, it can't possibly be that," she says as she approaches Mulder sleeping in the bed. She notices a wheezing sound coming from his chest, and she leans down and places her hand on his forehead. "Oh, my God. He's so hot," she cries. "He's burning up." "Dana?" Doggett is trying to find out what is happening. Scully goes to her medical bag and grabs an ear thermometer. After a moment, she reports with panic in her voice, "His temperature is 104.8." To Mulder she pleads, "Wake up. Mulder, can you hear me?" Upon picking up her cell phone, she says with panic in her voice, "John, he's non-responsive." Opening his eyelids to look into each eye, she reports, "His pupils are dilated." "I'm calling an ambulance, okay?" John says. "Just hang in there." In the background, she can hear Doggett giving the emergency dispatcher details such as a case of possible Anthrax, as well as directions to her apartment. In a few minutes, John is back on the phone with her. "They're on their way, and so am I. If you don't mind, I'm going to stay on the line," he says as he leaves his apartment, heading for his truck. "Mulder," she cries. She hurries to the bathroom, bringing back a washcloth soaked in cool water. She dabs it over his face, neck, and forehead. But the cool cloth becomes hot upon touching his face. John Doggett continues to talk to her. "I warned the emergency operator of a possible Anthrax exposure. So don't be surprised if everyone shows up before me in protective clothing." "We're not sure it's Anthrax. I still don't see how it could be. He was taking Cipro when he was asymptomatic. It makes no sense," she says as she continues to dab cool water on Mulder's face. She tries to get some water to his lips and into his mouth, but he doesn't give any response. "Well, what else could it be?" Doggett asks. "William!" Scully suddenly diverts her thoughts to their baby. "Oh, my God, what if William becomes ill!" "Dana, listen to me," Doggett tries to keep his voice level and calm while racing down the road in route to her apartment. "I heard that Anthrax is very hard to catch, at least from person to person. Is that true?" "Yes, that's right," she stops and swallows in relief, as reason begins to return to her spinning head. "Thank you for reminding me of that all important fact. And of course, there are arsenals of antibiotics available for William and me if we should need them." She's not sure whether she's trying to convince Doggett or herself. She quickly runs to the bathroom again and returns to Mulder's side with more cloths and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. The slow rattling in his breathing corresponds with the labored rise and fall of his chest. She continues to apply the cool cloths to his flushed, feverish face. Then, she quickly opens his shirt and bathes his neck, shoulders, and his lifeless arms with the alcohol. "You still there?" she hears John's voice from the receiver. "How's he doing?" "Yeah, I'm here. He just lies here. I'm trying to get his temperature go down before he goes into...," she suddenly stops in mid-sentence. "Damn," she shouts. "Agent Scully. What's happening there?" John's voice is becoming alarmed. "He's going into convulsions," she says frantically. Just at that moment, she hears the approaching siren from the ambulance. Holding onto Mulder's convulsing feverish body, she pleads to him, "Hold on, Mulder. Just hold on." Washington Memorial Hospital Margaret Scully is ushered down to the hospital's isolation floor by two armed guards. She has an ashen look of fear on her face. "Dana," she shouts, seeing her daughter at the end of the long, sterile hallway. "I got here as quickly as I could." "Thank God you're here, Mom." Scully gives her mother a big hug and then, begins to sob in her mother's arms. "Honey," Mrs. Scully says, holding her tearful daughter's face in her hands. "On the phone, you said Fox is ill. What happened?" "Mom, I think we had better sit down," she sniffles. As they sit at a nearby table, she continues, "I'm just going to come straight out with it, okay?" Then, she takes her mother's hand. "It appears that Mulder has been exposed to Anthrax. He was tested for it this morning, but they are moving ahead with the assumption that he has it." Scully begins to tear up again as she continues, "When we brought him here, he was unable to breathe on his own. They have him on a ventilator." And she begins to sob harder. "The type of respiratory Anthrax he has is highly fatal. He is so sick, Mom." And she breaks into hard sobbing. "My God, Dana," she responds. "I just saw him last night when I stopped by your apartment. Fox looked a little tired, but not sick. Not like this." Margaret Scully also has tears in her eyes. "This just can't be happening. You just got him back!" She holds her crying daughter for a long time, when she suddenly expresses a horrid thought. A deeper fear spreads across her face. "Dana, have you been exposed? Oh, my God, what about William?" Scully gives a loving smile to her Mom. "And what about you, Mom? You saw Mulder last night. It is so like you to always put everyone else first." She tries to compose herself before going on. "As a precaution, you will need to be tested. William and I were tested a few minutes ago." "When will they have the results back?" she asks. "Probably some time tomorrow," Scully answers. "But you need to understand that the chances of contracting Anthrax from a patient are extremely low. They will also start you on antibiotics, as they did us." "If it's so hard to contract it, then how did Fox get it?" Mrs. Scully asks. "He's been working at Senator Cumming's office during the past several weeks," Scully explains. "That seems to be ground zero. He must have inhaled some spores." "Oh, Lord," Mrs. Scully puts her hands up to cover her mouth. "I just heard on the news that there's been another death from the Senator's office." "You mean the man that died this morning?" Scully shakes her head to show that she knows. "No, another man died," Mrs. Scully explains. "On the news bulletin, I heard that there are now two male victims who had the respiratory infection and then, there is the woman who has the skin infection. I heard it on the way over here." Agents Doggett and Reyes walk up behind Mrs. Scully. Overhearing part of the conversation, Reyes asks, "There's been ANOTHER victim?" "Mom, this is Agent John Doggett and Agent Monica Reyes," Scully introduces everyone. "John and Monica, this is my mother, Margaret Scully." "Nice to meet you Mrs. Scully," Doggett replies. "Likewise," responds Mrs. Scully. Then, looking at Agent Reyes, she continues, "That is what I heard on the way over here. Another male victim associated with the Senator's office died today, making it two deaths today." "If it's okay with you, Dana, I'll go and follow up on that information," Monica offers. "Yes, please," Scully responds. "Let me know if you find out anything." Turning her attention to her mother she says, "Mom, let's go get you tested. Okay?" Agent Doggett excuses himself by saying; "I've already been tested. I, too, was in Mulder's apartment." Mrs. Scully nods, as she becomes aware of just how widespread this tragedy really is. Washington Memorial Hospital Scully walks out of Mulder's room. She stops in a hallway to discard her mask, gloves, and gown into a Biohazard container. Mulder didn't even know she was there. He's unconscious and still hooked up to the respirator with tubes and monitor wires going in and out of everywhere. Among fluids and other drugs, he's receiving massive does of Cipro. She walks to the waiting room around the corner where her mother and Doggett are seated. Mrs. Scully is holding her sleeping grandson. The two adults in the room look up at her, awaiting word of Mulder's condition. "He's still unconscious, but his fever has come down a little. And his latest blood tests look as though the antibiotics are doing some good." She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. "He's a long way from being out of the woods. But at least this is somewhat encouraging." "He's going to pull through," Mrs. Scully tells her daughter. "You've just got to believe that." "Yes, Mom," Scully smiles and nods. "That is what I believe." "I've been thinking, Agent Scully," Doggett change the subject after a moment. "I thought that Cipro was a fool proof cure for Anthrax." "It virtually is, unless the patient can't tolerate the drug. And IF the patient gets the drug in time," she answers. "That seems to be the question in Mulder's case." "But if Mulder was on the drug for 48 hours, why was he getting worse instead of better?" he asks. "I've been asking myself that very same question," she responds. "And the only thing I come up with is that the incubation period of the Anthrax exposure had gone on longer than the CDC knew or is willing to admit." "I remember an article I once read on Anthrax production in the former Soviet Union," Scully recants. "Their government was producing the bacteria in secret for preparation of germ warfare. Well, reportedly, there was an accident in one of their government laboratories, exposing many of the workers to the Anthrax. The accepted incubation period for the disease is said to be 7 to 14 days. But in this laboratory incident, it is said Russian hospitals received reports of people coming down with symptoms of inhalation Anthrax up to 45 days after the accident." "You know I'm not a doctor, but I keep remembering what I've heard over and over these past few weeks," Doggett goes on. "An exposed person who is given Cipro BEFORE symptoms appear should be okay, isn't that right?" At that moment, Doggett's cell phone rings. "Agent Doggett," he answers. He listens for a moment and then tells Scully, "It's Monica." "John, there have been more Anthrax victims admitted to area hospitals today from the Sentator's offices," Agent Reyes begins. "There are now five more hospitalized victims, including Mulder. They are all in serious to critical condition." She pauses and then adds; "One thing they all have in common is that they all attended the group meeting with the CDC on Thursday." "Hold on just a second. Dana is here." Doggett reiterates Monica's comments to Scully and her mother. Then, he resumes his phone conversation. "And supposedly, they have all been on Cipro since Thursday, BEFORE they presented with any symptoms," Doggett adds. "Exactly," Reyes confirms. "Were you able to find out anything more on the second deceased victim?" he inquires. "Only that I don't believe the CDC knew about his symptoms until AFTER the meetings with the victims on Thursday," she says. "I'm no cheerleader for the CDC. But from my interviews, they appear to have acted on a good faith basis, John. Our team is conducting the investigation as to how an infected letter entered the Congressional Mail System. But I wouldn't hold my breath for quick findings. This is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack." "I just can't get past the fact that we have five exposure victims, counting Mulder. All of whom were associated with Senator Cumming, all of whom were well enough to attend the Thursday CDC meeting, and all of whom received the recommended antibiotic of choice before they had symptoms," Doggett recaps. "If they all were taking the Cipro for 48 hours before getting sick, none of these five victims should be in a hospital in critical condition." Scully stands beside him, overhearing his side of the conversation. "Unless," Scully utters as she begins to come up with an idea. "Unless they weren't given Cipro at all." "That must be it!" she exclaims. "That would also explain why Mulder was getting worse at home, but is improving here, in the hospital. Here, he's getting massive doses of Cipro that did not come from the CDC." "Where is the bottle of pills that Mulder was given by the CDC?" Doggett asks. "We could have it tested." Reaching into her bag, she pulls out the bottle. "Got it, right here," she says. "Monica remarks. "If this is true, the terrorism is now occurring on multiple levels. But why?" she asks. "God only knows why," Doggett replies. "But we'll find out how." Washington Memorial Hospital Mulder is sitting up and looking markedly better than in past days. Although he is still weak and restricted to bed rest, he is definitely on the mend. He hears a tap on the door, when Agents Scully, Reyes, and Doggett enter his room dressed in protective garb. Mulder is no longer contagious, and each Agent has tested negative for Anthrax twice. These precautions are more for Mulder's benefit, as his illness has left his resistance to other infections down. "How ya' doin' Agent Mulder?" Doggett asks from behind his mask. "I believe I'm beginning to feel human again," Mulder replies, his voice still sounding scratchy. A nasal canula helps him to breathe. "I would say something about you feeling human, but it's not fair to pick on you when you're not feeling your best," Doggett chides. "I appreciate that, Agent Doggett," Mulder responds. "Mulder, we thought we would bring you up to date on our investigation," Scully begins. "As you know, tests showed that the Cipro you were given at the CDC meeting was, in fact, a placebo. But what you don't know is that the same was found to be true for almost half of the victims who attended that meeting with the CDC." "So you see, Agent Mulder, some of you were given the drug, while others were unknowingly given a placebo," Reyes reiterates. "It was a test? For what possible fucking reason?" Mulder asks, obviously upset. "We're investigating that now," Doggett replies. "When there is a demand for a drug and there is not enough in supply to go around, it makes that drug extremely valuable." "Yes. So valuable that there's even been talk about other countries willing to ignore the international patent on Cipro in light of this world-wide shortage of the drug," Reyes adds. "It appears that corporate profits and international desire for Bio-warfare protection could take precedent over human life." "Or it could be that someone didn't take this incident seriously enough and didn't want to waste our precious supply of Cipro on a perceived scare," Scully offers another theory. "Suffice to say that there is more than enough greed out there as a motive. We're investigating all angles," Doggett adds. "Have there been any more deaths?" Mulder asks in a whisper. "Not since we discovered the placebos," Scully says. "All the victims that were hospitalized the same day as you, and those afterwards, are making a recovery. There have been no more deaths." "That's good," Mulder takes in a deep breath and gives a weak smile. "Well, I think we should leave now," Reyes announces, seeing that their visit has tired the patient. "We're all pulling for you to make a complete and speedy recovery." "Yes, please hurry. I have no one to antagonize me. And I kind of miss it," Doggett admits. "Thanks for stopping by," Mulder whispers as Agents Doggett and Reyes exit the room. Scully walks over to the bed and places a kiss on his forehead through her mask. "You do look tired," she comments. "I am, but I don't see how I could be. All I do is lie here in this bed," he retorts. "Your body is working so hard to fight off this infection. It's no wonder you're low on energy," she offers. "But trust me, you will be feeling better very soon." "Oh, I already feel so much better than I did," he admits. "I've had a lot of time to think, lying here. Too much time, actually," he continues. "I've always been aware that we have a government and a military that would conspire to incredible lengths to hide the truth from its people. And as distasteful as it is, I learned to accept it." Taking a few breaths, he continues, "But when corporations start behaving as governments, then what is to become of us? It's bad enough when we have to worry about foreign terrorists attacking us on our own soil. But how are we supposed protect ourselves from the enemy within? How are we supposed to protect our son?" "I don't know, Mulder," Scully responds, shaking her head and putting her hand on Mulder's shoulder. "But I have no doubt in my mind you will not be satisfied until you find the answers." ~fin~
|