X-Files: Case One

Deep Throat [2]

Mulder walked into the motel room holding his phone to his ear. "Been on hold with the base director of communications for 45 minutes. How about you?"

"Yeah, somebody named Colonel Kissel will meet with us...a week from Friday," Scully revealed.

"Yeah, right," Mulder huffed as he brushed a bit of Star's hair that fell in front of her face as she colored.

Star moved away from Mulder and handed him the Yellow Pages.

Mulder furrowed his eyebrow, trying to decipher what Star was trying to convey. "Did you say Kissel?" he asked Scully.

***

Star watched as Scully and Mulder walked out of the car and over to Colonel Kissel's house.

"Colonel Kissel?" Mulder asked.

"Yes?" The man replied.

"Can I talk with you? Special Agent Mulder, FBI,"

"I've got nothing to say," Colonel Kissel said.

Mulder and Scully continued to follow him.

"Please!" Colonel Kissel exclaimed, "This is an invasion of my privacy,"

"Why don't you talk to us about Colonel Budahas?" Mulder questioned.

"Why don't you get the hell out of my yard?"

"Good thing we still kept that appointment," Scully said as Colonel Kissel slammed the door in their face.

"Hey." A man called out as he walked towards the duo "Are you the FBI agents? I'm Paul Mossinger. I, uh, work for the local paper. We live a few houses down from Verla McLennen. She said you guys are out here looking into this Budahas thing,"

"We're looking around," Mulder replied.

"I got you. Right. A lot of people out here just looking around. UFO nuts mostly, but it's not every day we get FBI,"

A jet whooshed overhead; the only thing heard was a sonic boom.

"By the time you hear them, they're already gone. So this Budahas thing...are you getting anywhere?"

"We're not at liberty to comment," Mulder said.

"Well..." The reporter sighed.

"Paul...right? You've lived in this area a while. You ever seen a UFO?"

"Never," The reporter smirked. "Bunch of hooey, if you ask me. People see what they want to see,"

"But if I wanted to talk to one of those UFO nuts that you referred to earlier, where would I go?"

***

Star looked up worriedly as she heard the sonic boom of another jet flying overhead.

Mulder placed a reassuring hand on the child's back, rubbing it for comfort.

"F-15 Eagle," The waitress explained, "pulling about four g's. Those boys think they are such hotshots. Get a few drinks in them; you'd think it was them up there flapping their wings."

Mulder laughed and pointed to a photo posted on the wall. "Who's the photographer?"

The waitress turned to the black-and-white shots of UFOs littering the wall. "Various and sundry." she pointed to the one that looked like a triangle in the sky. "I took the one on the end there,"

"You're kidding. Where?"

"Out on the back porch. Taking out the garbage. And there it was...just hovering. Quiet like a hummingbird." The waitress brought the picture over, and Star looked over but became bored and went back to her coloring. "For a minute there, I thought it was going to land in the parking lot, and I was going to serve 'em lunch. I'm selling limited edition prints $20. Down to my last five, if you're interested,"

Mulder glanced down at Star and smirked. "Put it on my tab,"

"Sucker," Star signed, earning an amused chuckle from Scully.

Mulder shook his head. "What would be the chances of someone like me seeing a UFO?"

Scully sighed in defeat. "Catch you outside,"

***

Scully and Star looked up as Mulder exited the diner.

"You wanna know something weird, Mulder." Scully said as she looked over her map, "Ellens Air Base isn't even on my USGS quadrant map,"

"Let's go," Mulder said.

"You know? Where are we going?"

"We got our own map," Mulder teased.

***

Mulder pulled the car up to a fence.

"What do you honestly hope to see?" Scully argued as she followed Mulder out of the car.

"I don't know. Maybe nothing," Mulder replied.

Star hurried to follow Mulder up the hill.

"Is this why we came out here, Mulder? To look for UFOs?" Scully called after him. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, this is going to look real good on my field report.