Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(66)

X felt the vertebrae crack, and he let the Major’s body fall to the floor in a heap.

Now the real work began. X ripped the newspaper articles and photos of fake UFOs off the walls. He didn’t have anything against the Major’s amateur private investigator status, but he didn’t have time to wade through all this crap. So it all had to go.

The basement was next. A heavy-duty cable and padlock secured the door. X should’ve brought along a pair of bolt cutters. The nice thing about conspiracy theorists who were anticipating an alien invasion was that they always had plenty of emergency supplies. And they kept them in the same spot in the kitchen as everybody else.

“The cupboard under the sink,” X said as he bent down to open it. He picked up the red fire extinguisher and marched back to the basement door. He brought the base of the fire extinguisher down hard against the top of the lock.

Once.

Twice.

Three times—and it broke off.

X’s boss wanted a specific file. Number 12179. “It will have ‘El Rico Air Force Base’ stamped on the front.”

Easy enough.

The light switch at the top of the stairs had been removed, leaving the wiring exposed. With the basement door open, X could see well enough to navigate the stairs and locate the chain dangling from a bare bulb at the bottom. He pulled the chain, and a panel of fluorescent lights on the ceiling turned on one by one.

The entire room was full of cardboard file boxes stacked ten high. A commercial copy machine was wedged between stacks of green paperback books. X picked one up.

“Stormbringer? You were some kind of crazy, Major Winchester.” He opened a file box and took out one of the cream-colored files.

#12179. EL RICO AFB.

X pulled out two more, then opened another box and checked those. Every folder was labeled the same way.

#12179. EL RICO AFB.

“You won this round, Major.” He stopped in front of the wall across from the stairs.

The Major had written a message in huge black letters.

CAN YOU HANDLE THE TRUTH???

“You’ll never find out,” X said as he pulled the chain under the lightbulb and walked up the stairs.

X retrieved his blazer from where he’d left it draped over the banister and slipped it on. He strolled through the kitchen and stopped at the stove. From the interior pocket of his blazer, he pulled out the gift from the boss.

Nothing extravagant. Just practical.

A simple turn of a knob and the burner ignited. X leaned over with the Morley between his lips and lit the cigarette. One drag, and he headed to the back door. A halo of orange flames danced on the burner as he flicked the Morley onto the kitchen floor.

He was halfway down the alley behind the brownstones when Major Winchester’s kitchen exploded, taking the rest of the house with it in a matter of seconds.

X thought about the Major’s kid. He was almost eighteen, and in DC, you only had to be seventeen to be legally declared an adult.

The kid will be okay.

But X did have one regret.

I should’ve taken the Enterprise.





CHAPTER 28

Outside the Mulder Residence

5:55 P.M.



The black sedan with the tinted windows was parked across the street from Bill Mulder’s apartment.

X knocked on the window, and the passenger door swung open.

“How did it go?” his boss asked without disturbing the Morley tucked in the corner of his mouth.

“I smoked my first cigarette,” X said, leaning back against the seat.

“What did you think?”

“Not bad. But I see myself as more of a social smoker.”

“Did you just make that up?” He took a long drag of his Morley, then pointed it at X. “And if you did, don’t tell me. It sounds like the kind of garbage a guy in a white jumpsuit would say, and nobody should wear one of those except Elvis. And he’s dead.”

The Smoking Man was pissed off about something. X hoped it didn’t have anything to do with him. The funnel of ash on his Morley grew with every drag. X didn’t bother watching it. The ash wouldn’t break off until the boss allowed it to fall.

“Did you get the file?” He exhaled, and smoke snaked toward X.

“Files. Plural. Boxes and boxes full of photocopies.”

“I assume that was the reason for your fireworks show at the Winchester residence?”

“Yep.”

“And the Major?”

“Broke his neck,” X said. “I would’ve staged a natural death, but the guy was agitated. And there was no time.”

“Don’t make a habit of it.” The Smoking Man blew out a long trail of smoke. “Anything to report on Fox Mulder?”

“Bill came home last night, and the two of them got into it.” X shook his head. “The kid’s dad really is a jerk.”

“Bill means well. A son can’t always understand his father’s motivations. What were they arguing about?”

“The FBI had called Fox in to ask him some questions.” A hint of a smile played on his lips. “The kid met with Agent Ressler from the BSU.”

The boss nodded. “I know Bob. We went fishing once or twice. The guy has no sea legs. He threw up the whole time.” He tapped the edge of his cigarette on the ashtray and the funnel broke off in one piece, the way it always did. “How did Fox do with Ressler? On land, the man is tough.”