Chapter Text
Chapter Three
Location
A quiet inn somewhere in New Mexico
Summer 2001
Bob, Dave and Ruthie are meeting to discuss the future and mourn the loss of their Brother Ed.
“Dave, can you believe how impossible the last twelve months have been? If we never hear from Chimney again it will be too soon.
“And now Ed is gone, too. Why did he have to pull that stunt in Arizona, just after we got Spender tucked away -- again? We didn’t need Gibson. And then somehow Agent Scully managed to kill him.”
“Yeh Bob, and I have no idea why he wants to hide out in some cave, billing himself as a Native wise-man. Ruthie, you said he was overjoyed to find out he has a grandchild. We all know his brain synapses got scrambled – but how in all the holies is he now telling one and all that William is his own creation? We know this isn’t true./p>
“And he’s just as confused as we are as to who-and-what-the-hell these so-called Super Soldiers are and how they are supposed to be helping the cause.”
“Bob and Dave, I can’t thank you enough for giving me your New Mexico spa. And five doctors to go with it.”
Bob winks “Well girl – we are getting out of that business – maybe we’ll go into tech.”
Dave summons the waitress “This is some great beer. We’ll all have around round – or two.”
Washington, D.C.
1998-2000
With Al out of commission, the brothers had infrequent updates on politics back home.
They believed the back on the Peace Movement was broken – no more Jeremiah Smiths or any other peace agents had been spotted on planet Earth.
The arrival of the militant Rebel faction was a huge surprise to all – first they burned to death scores of human abductees. Their big next move was to successfully eliminate most of the human Syndicate members and steal away their human-alien hybrid – Cassandra Spender.
The brothers now had their own concerns for their safety from the rebels, and made peace with their fellow countrymen, the Patriot Army. They ditched their role of enforcers and opted for a quiet life. Handing over the administration of their Julie’s Quebec restaurant empire to some of these P.A. members they chose to undertake a new enterprise: Spa Retreats. A select group of clientele always knew to book Bob, Dave or Ed for their special quarterly visits as healing massage therapists.
Unfortunately their boss somehow escaped the Syndicate roast and now felt he was free to pursue whatever he wanted. His scientists had been unable to replicate the effects from the brain tissue removed from poor Gibson. Then the “God Module” in his son’s (really??) Agent Fox Mulder’s brain was activated by exposure to artifacts from one of The People’s crashed ships. Chimney knew EXACTLY what he wanted.
What’s that old saying: Be careful what you wish for. The operation did NOT pay off and CSM turned to a constant smoking regime to deal with his disappointment. He acquired a luxury apartment at the Watergate – actually he simply took over Diana’s, after cleaning out the blood. He amused himself by toying with Agent Scully, mainly because he knew this would piss off Mulder.
But by the spring of 2000 Spender was a complete mess: his cancer was back in full force, he’d had a tracheotomy, was wheelchair-bound, and totally reliant on his assistant Ruthie. (Krycek’s hope: a man on his deathbed.) Then the plan to recover a crashed alien craft in Oregon and rebuild the Project -- a total failure. Marita and Krycek turned their backs to him. While Marita restrained Ruthie, Krycek pushed CSM down a flight of stairs. The two left Ruthie collapsed and sobbing in a chair. Sure her boss was dead, she pulled herself together. She found a pulse and then pressed the implant (as he had previously shown her) to summon our three brothers.
Knowing this revival attempt was beyond their abilities, the brothers put together a team. Ruthie was a trained nurse. They enlisted five P.A. members who had worked as doctors. Bob and Dave sent Ed on to New Mexico to close the spa there – closed indefinitely for renovations -- and managed a life support flight. A full year of medical treatments began.
~ * ~ *
Location
Our same quiet inn in New Mexico
Summer 2002
What another fine mess CSM has gotten us into
“Ruthie, what did you think we could possibly do? The man was blown up by a missile, for fracking sakes. I’m surprised you even found the implant to call us.”
“Well Dave, I had to try. He was so upset to hear his grandson had been sent away ‘for his own safety’ and now he had absolutely no idea how to find him. He was crying all the time.”
“Ruthie, as Bob already told you we’re tried everything we can think of. We’ve stuffed all the pieces into a beta regeneration chamber. But it will be years before anyone will know if this succeeds. Just block off a wing in the spa to store it and make a weekly check.”
“I just wish your people hadn’t abducted the last Jeremiah Smith to be condemned by your Father. He was able to heal all those returnees. But I suppose he wouldn’t have helped. CGB did order his other brothers tortured and killed.”
“I agree Ruthie. And now this is goodbye. Dave and I think it’s our time to go home. No one is clear on how the situation here on Earth will pan out. But it’s been real.”
“I raise my class to you, Bob and to you, Dave. Safe travels.”
Cheers all round.