Title: The Darkness Within (4/8) Author: Rhiannon Langly (fmacgirl@yahoo.com) Rating: PG for language (at the moment...) Classification: Langly/other. Angst. Spoilers: LGM series 1x04: "Like Water For Octane" Archive: Countermeasures, my own site, anywhere it's wanted. Just let me know first. Feedback: For the love o' god, send it. Summary: Langly confronts his own fears about never finding love, as the Gunmen try to help a young woman and Yves revenge their past. - - - - - I sat at the Pentium IV in the Nexus, Yves hovering over my shoulder. Even for me, hacking into the US government is not that easy, though they aren't as secure as most people think. I shook my head in frustration, getting a mouthful of blond hair in the process. Shit. "Where the hell am I supposed to find who uses what funds? Trillions spent a year, and we're looking for a mere hundred million." "Calm down, Langly," Yves said. "Why don't you just try to find the Project database?" I moaned and rubbed my eyes with my left hand, still typing furiously with the other. "Like finding a needle in a shitstack. The Feds have thousands of projects going on. And there's no record of the grant. Maybe we'll just run int--" I paused. "What is it?" "The server line for Dominie. I think." My hands moved in a blur over the keys as I scanned the VICAP for watchdog agents. "I'll switch to hidden 'lite on your mark," Frohike said from his desk. "Three. Two. One. Mark." There was a soft beep. "'Lite?'" Melinda asked. "Satellite. Land IPs are too easy to track. We bounce off of five different orbitals to hide our tracks. Maybe they could trace us to DC, but not to our door. We switch sites every so often," Byers explained behind the clatter of the keys. "We don't lose the connection when we switch, because we have an encoded carrier satellite that holds it constantly, which kicks in right before a switch. It only holds it for a microsecond before the transfer is made. Not enough time to track us exactly," Frohike elaborated. A pause. "I'm in," I said, scanning the lines of code for something, anything that could help us find them. "A nine digit ZIP code," Yves said. Mel nodded. "I'll put it through the database." She sat down at her laptop and entered the USPS system. "Here in DC...421 L St." "On the Hill? No way," Frohike said, shocked. "Bastard," I cursed at my screen. "What?" Melinda looked puzzled. "You don't like driving among all those tourists and politicians?" "No," I said, stonily. "Their new program. I've got an interoffice memo here. They start today at 1700 hours." "Shit," Byers said. "That's five hours from now. There's no way we could pull off anything elaborate in time." Mel looked at Yves, then at me. "I'll just take Langly. He can hack into their Intranet and I can infiltrate. Yves taught me well. More people, more chance for fuckup." Frohike wearily closed his eyes. "Do you wanna go, Ree," he asked. I looked at Mel, whose eyes were begging me like a goddamn puppy. "You chicken, Langly?" "I value my life," I said, "Even though it is...rather meaningless. I'll go. For you, Mel." She winked at me. - - - - - "Ringo?" Mel asked, as we drove through the streets of DC. "Yeah," I responded, the van pulling up outside 421 L...We were there. She was dressed in a catsuit, obviously borrowed from Yves. It fit her well, I had to say. [Can't think about that now.] "Take care of this disk, ok?" She handed me the CD she had held on to and added to for weeks. "You can read it when I'm inside." "Got it," I said, setting it in back by the computer. She kissed me on the cheek. "I've got your back," I said. "Go do it." The slam of the van door was the saddest thing I've heard in a long time. - - - - - end part four - - - - - Title: The Darkness Within (5/8) Author: Rhiannon Langly (fmacgirl@yahoo.com) Rating: PG for language (at the moment...) Classification: Langly/other. Angst. Spoilers: LGM series 1x04: "Like Water For Octane" Archive: Countermeasures, my own site, anywhere it's wanted. Just let me know first. Feedback: For the love o' god, send it. Summary: Langly confronts his own fears about never finding love, as the Gunmen try to help a young woman and Yves revenge their past. - - - - - As I set up the system, blocking security so that Melinda could get inside the Project, I couldn't help but see the CD, the reflective top glaring at me in the light of the double screened computer. Damn it. "I'm in, Ringo. Put me on auto run, ok?" "Got it." As I let Mel into the house without watching, I took the CD with shaking hands, and put it into one of the drives. Ten files, a text and nine Acrobat. 'Ringo.txt.' Fucking cute. - - - - - Dear Ringo, If you're reading this, I'm probably in some situation that I don't expect to get out of. Like you, I keep my emotions hidden until a dire situation comes up. Believe me, this is a dire situation. I've been in these 'people's' hands before. If I'm caught, do understand that I will not hesitate to kill myself. Even if I didn't, there'd be no escaping this time, and I'd be better off dead anyway. I'm evading the point, aren't I? You've been dear to me since I came months ago. Don't get me wrong, I love Byers and Frohike dearly, but you were different. I could never tell how. That's why I treated you differently, bantering with you. I wanted to make sure I was right about you...and I was, I hope. There was something about you that seemed familiar, so *right.* When we touched this morning in the van, if felt natural. It was then that I knew. You must be the one for me...Maybe I'll never know if you feel the same way. Sorry about being so damned sappy. You know what it's like to walk into the shadows. I'll be seeing you, Ree. -Melinda MacConnell PS: The PDF files are my diaries. Read them only if I'm dead or gone. Thanks...love you. - - - - - Ree. Cute lil' pet name that Frohike gave me once, and only calls me on occasion. I don't mind it from Mel, I don't think. Stunned shock. She felt the same way. She felt the same way. - - - - - An alarm went off on the digital monitor--Melinda's panic button. "Fuck," I cursed, as I watched the screen. Guards were everywhere, the system was buzzing with alerts: it was a mess. "What the hell is going on, Melinda?" "They're all around me, Ringo," she whispered into the mike. "I can't move. For god's sake, help me here." "Let me take a look," I said, scanning the blueprints. My panic was barely hidden. I had had no doubts about the severity of the problems we were up against. It just couldn't prepare for the actual fear. These were truly fucked-up, dangerous people, and they had the US government behind them; they were evil. "The vent to your left is up about four feet, and it's about two feet across. Can you get at it?" "Yeah." A grunt. "I'm in." She clicked the vent cover closed. "OK, now take it down to your righ-" I stopped. She was moving in the opposite direction. "Mel, what the fuck are you doing? The mission's a bust, get out!" "You don't get it, Ree. I can't have it happen again. They can't do it to more women. I can hear both in my mind, the doctors and the poor girls...and I see what's going to happen. What WILL happen if I don't stop them. It'll be your friend Mulder's fears of colonization, all over again, stronger." I didn't like the tone she used. It was too much like Dana Scully, too bound and determined in the face of an impossible cause. "So what do you intend to do? You can't lead ten women out of there. Not with this kind of security," I said flatly, trying to talk some sense into her. "Of course not. I'm...you're not going to like this..." She floundered. "Tell me. Now." "I've got a bomb in my vest. Enough to blow this place sky-high," she said, with regret etching her voice. "You're killing them. All of them." I moaned in disbelief. "Don't, for the love of god, Mel." "Do you think I *want* to hurt innocent people? These women, though, they WANT to die. When I was one, *I* wanted to die...and there's no escape for them like there was for me. Either they participate in the end of free humanity, or they die with a clear conscience. We were TOO LATE, Ringo. Right now, there is no other option." Shock. "What about you? You were going to do this all along, weren't you? Screw getting the women out, you knew there was no way." "I've needed to do this for years," she said. "I just never had the equipment." "But you're killing yourself with them." "No, I want to live! I want...damn. I want YOU, Ree. But if I have to sacrifice my life and that for the common good, I'll do it." "So you used us for technology," I muttered. She sighed. "Yes and I'm so sorry. But I need to do this, and do it now. Don't hate me for it...let the boys know I love them. And everything in the letter was true. I love you...I'm doing it FOR you. There's just no other way." A crackle came across the monitor. "Shit, shit, SHIT," I roared, pounding a fist on the side of the van, typing frantically with the other hand. "Get her BACK, fucking whore bastard!" Too late. The monitor read "Terminated from source user." As I hurled curses at the screen, at Mel, at myself, I heard a noise. I froze in place as the van rocked in a Doppler wave of energy. Scared shitless, I looked out the window. The building was gone. Had I not been bawling at the moment, fogging my glasses, cursing Mel and the Project and Yves and everyone else I could think of, I would have seen something reminscent of a typical action film... A figure, running out of the blast. - - - - - end part five