#(which is necessary to include due to chris carter's utter and flagrant disregard for geography)

[scenes-in-between]

Providence

“Listen carefully, Agent Scully. You want to see your son? You come alone, and you follow my instructions to the letter.”

Scully’s pulse pounds in her ears, and the room seems to sway around her. William is alive.

“Go immediately to the airport. There is a flight leaving Dulles for Calgary in two hours, and if you want to see your son, you will be on it. When you have landed in Canada, I will call again with further instructions.”

“Wait, Calgary? Who is this, how do I know--”

There is a rustling sound, and then, faintly, she can hear a baby crying. Her heart leaps into her throat.

“You bastard! If you hurt him, I swear to God…”

“He is safe here with us. We will not let any harm come to him. You have my word on that. But unless you do exactly as I say, we will hide him so thoroughly that the next time you see him, he will have grown up without you, and you will be strangers to one another.”

A tear slips down her cheek, and she brushes it angrily away. A thousand curses stick in her throat.

“The clock is ticking, agent.”

The man hangs up before she can say anything more.

Scully only barely resists the urge to hurl her phone against the wall in frustration. She nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand touches her shoulder; she'd forgotten Reyes and Doggett were there in the room with her.

"I have to go," she says tightly.

"No, Agent Scully, please listen to me.” Doggett strains to sit up. “You can’t--”

“Trust them. I know.” She turns to Monica. “That’s why I need you to go back to my apartment and get the Gunmen. Tell them to bring whatever equipment they need to track a vehicle, and then get to Dulles as fast as you can. The man on the phone said the flight leaves in two hours, so we have to hurry. I’ll call you with the flight details once I get to the airport.”

Monica nods. “I’m on it,” she says, giving Doggett’s hand a last squeeze and hurrying from the room.

Scully starts to follow, but Doggett reaches for her.

“Damn it, wait,” he says. “How do you know you’re not being led on a wild goose chase? Or worse, right into a trap?”

“I don’t,” Scully admits. “But Agent Comer crashed at the Canadian border, and this man on the phone said to go to Calgary. And I heard...” Her throat tightens, and the rest of the sentence comes out as a whisper. “They have him, John. And this may be my last chance to get him back.”

Doggett’s mouth tightens, but he nods. “Just be careful. Watch your back, and don’t let your guard down for a second.”

“I won’t,” she promises.

***

With their van totaled, and given the possibility that they might be needed at a moment’s notice to help with the search for William, the Lone Gunmen have spent the past few days camped out in Agent Scully’s living room. Her apartment is, without question, far nicer than their place, but Byers knows he is not the only one starting to feel restless and ready to get home. Langly’s been increasingly unable to sit still, not-so-subtly rubbing his back and cracking his neck and grumbling under his breath about how dining room chairs have no lumbar support. And though Frohike would never in a million years admit it, he hasn’t relaxed for more than a moment since they got here, and Byers is pretty sure he’s barely slept.

For his part, Byers is sick of feeling useless; when push comes to shove, no matter how many years he’s spent with Frohike and Langly, his hacking skills still can’t hold a candle to theirs. Sure, he takes point when it comes to research, and he can dig through a database like no one’s business, but they’ve had so little to go on with this that it’s just felt like he’s spinning his wheels.

All three of them jump when Scully’s phone rings.

Byers gets up to go answer it, but Frohike hisses, “Are you nuts?”

“It might be Agent Scully,” Byers says, eyebrows raised.

Frohike picks up his cell phone from the table in front of him and waves it. “Hello. If it were Scully calling, then this would be ringing instead.”

“It’s probably just a telemarketer,” Langly says with a shrug, turning back to his laptop screen.

The answering machine clicks on, and it is definitely not a telemarketer who speaks next.

“Guys, this is Monica Reyes. Pick up the phone. Now!”

Byers scrambles to the phone and picks it up. “Agent Reyes? What’s wrong, is Agent Scully hurt?”

“She’s fine, but listen. I’m on my way to get you three. Pack up whatever you gear need for tracking a vehicle and meet me out in front of the building in five minutes. Oh, and make sure you’ve got IDs as well. We’re going to the airport.”

“The air--?”

“Look, I’ll explain when I get there. We may have a lead on William, but we have to hurry. We can’t let them get away again.”

“We’ll be ready,” Byers says firmly and hangs up the phone, then turns around to the other two. “Please tell me there was a GPS transponder in with the stuff from the van when we cleared it out.”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Frohike says, frowning. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Agent Reyes said they may have a lead on William, but we have to leave now, and we’ll need to be able to track a vehicle. She’ll be here in five minutes to pick us up.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Frohike stands and pushes his chair back so fast it almost tips over. “Let’s get that kid back.”

***

Josepho’s phone trills in his pocket a little after 2:00 am.

Right on time.

“Do you have eyes on her?” he asks without preamble. “And is she alone?”

“I’ve been watching her since she got off the plane,” the man he’d sent to the airport to shadow Agent Scully tells him. “She hasn’t spoken to anyone, just paced back and forth with her phone in her hand.”

“Good.”

He hangs up, then redials the number given to him by his supersoldier contact within the FBI. Agent Scully answers immediately.

“Where are you? I assume you’ve been watching me, so you know I’ve done as you asked. Now where is my son?”

“Patience, Agent Scully. You must think me a fool if you imagine I would come to the airport myself. We will meet somewhere more private. There is a truck stop west of the city off Highway 1. It is the only thing open at this hour, so you will know it when you see it. Go inside, and wait for me there.”

He hangs up without giving her a chance to respond, then puts his phone back in his pocket and turns around, walking over to where the boy sleeps peacefully in Angela’s arms. Careful not to wake him, he brushes gentle fingertips across the baby’s brow. It’s incredible, what the future holds for this child. His own mother may not be able to understand or believe it, but Josepho will make her see reason. God has assured him that all will go according to His grand plan, as long as Josepho remains faithful and overcomes the few remaining obstacles blocking the way.

***

“A woman with dark hair will come here in a few minutes, and I need you to give this to her,” Scully tells the man at the Lariat counter, handing him a note in exchange for the rental car keys he’s just given her. “Her name is Monica.”

He looks momentarily puzzled but takes the note from her with a smile. “Will do.”

Scully doesn’t make eye contact as she stalks past Monica and the boys, who are seated near the door. She and Reyes worked it out on the plane, in a brief, hushed conversation by the lavatory.

Scully is under no illusions that this UFO cult will let her simply walk away with William, not if they believe him to be some sort of messiah. She has no idea why they have offered to let her see him, unless they somehow think they can persuade her to join their cause. There will likely be a threat made, a gun held on her under a table as they take William away again.

But they won’t know about her backup, and they won’t know that she will be ready to track them right back to wherever they have been hiding.

She will get her son back. Tonight.