Chapter 1
 

Highway 3 
Netherfield County, Maine

The loud blaring of music trailed behind the late model sports car as it sped down the lonely two-lane highway.  Inside the car, a group of college-aged males laughed and teased each other mercilessly.  The semester was over and they were free to enjoy their summer break. 

"Hey, did you see the look on Mary Beth's face when I said there was no way I was going to marry her?" a sandy blonde questioned his buddies.

"Yeah, she turned purple!  I thought she was going to have a fit!" answered the black youth who sat in the passenger's seat.

A brunette leaned forward from the backseat and proclaimed, "I was wondering if you were ever gonna do it, man!"

"I wasn't," the driver answered, "until I found out that she'd been cheating on me."

The car load sobered.  "Jack, man, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, Tim and I didn't realize you were so far gone on her," replied Mike from behind the driver. 

Jack, smiled sadly as Tim asked, "Are you really sure?  I mean that she cheated on you?"

"Oh, yeah.  I caught her myself."

"Man," replied Mike, "that's rough."

The car was quiet except for the lilting voice of Billie Meyers as she serenaded the three with  "Kiss the Rain."

Mike, desperate to put his friend at ease, tried to change the subject. "So, what are you guys gonna do over summer break?"

"Well, my family's going to our cabin on the lake for a couple of weeks," Tim remarked. 

"What about you?"

Mike's answer died with the car's engine.  The lights on the dashboard faded.  Jack futilely tried to rev the engine.

"What's going on?" he asked desperately turning the key in the ignition switch. 

"Did you run out of gas?" Tim asked.

"No, man, I just filled up the tank," Jack said, while getting out of the car.  "Hey, Tim, pop the hood for me will ya'?"  Tim reached over the gear and pulled the lever to allow his friend access to the engine.  Mike got out of the car and, leaving the door open, walked around the vehicle examining the tires.   Tim leaned out the window to ask Jack a question, but he uttered no words. Instead, his eyes were focused on a form speeding through the night sky. It slowed, then hovered a few hundred yards away from the car.  Jack, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up, slowly looked at Tim's shocked face, and then turned around.  He faltered and grasped the hood of the car for support.  "Uh, Mike, uh, do you, uh, do you see what we're seeing?" Jack stammered. 

"Huh?" he asked from the back of the car.  "Jack, these tires are, uh," he swallowed as he noticed the rotating lights, "okay.  What the heck is that?" 

"I don't know, but I don't think we need to stay here to find out," Tim argued, getting out of the car, his eyes wide as saucers.  He raced off into the trees.

"Wait!  Where's my camera?" Mike asked, diving into the back seat. He grabbed it and joined Jack at the front of the car.  Mike raised it to eye level and focused it on the saucer-shape before him.  He clicked once.

"Hurry, man, its leaving!" Jack chided.  Mike clicked the camera several more times as the disk flew away.

"Man, nobody's gonna believe this!" Tim gasped as he peered from behind a tree.
 
 

Chapter 2
 

F.B.I. Building 
Washington, D.C.

Bennet glanced at the pictures Darcy had handed her.  She sighed.  "This doesn't prove anything, Darcy.  Most physical proof of UFOs has been shown to be falsified in some way.  You, I'm sure, remember the case where a man used a backdrop of the sky and hung a paper plate from a piece of string."

Upon receiving no answer from her partner, she continued to flip through the film from Netherfield county, Maine.  Darcy, for his part, shuffled through police reports.  He leaned back in his chair appraising Bennet as she finished perusing the pictures.  "Besides," she continued, "doesn't the Air Force base up there send out planes to monitor weather patterns?"

"Bennet, I'm impressed.  Your knowledge of the military for once outstrips mine.  Go on, continue your argument."

She smiled, thoroughly ready to do just that.  "If I remember correctly, they keep a standing unit ready to be deployed within hours after a disaster has occurred.  Darcy, they were more than likely doing a dry run to test out new equipment.  People who live around bases report seeing unidentified flying objects all the time.  I don't see why this is any different." 

"It's different because those 'reported unidentified flying objects' CAN be identified by someone.  Usually that someone is connected to the base. These witnesses A: have photos and B: are all familiar with military planes since their fathers are all stationed at the Netherfield base."

"Darcy, there's one flaw in your theory..."

"ONLY one, Bennet, surely you can do better than that," his eyes glittered with amusement.

She shook her head with exasperation.  "These kids wouldn't know how to recognize classified, experimental aircraft."

"Their fathers would be able to," Darcy interjected to continue the debate.

"Be that as it may, they would not be able to divulge details about classified research," she replied matter-of-factly. 

"Hm," Darcy paused thoughtfully.  "Well, then maybe we should visit some people who can."

***

Office of The Lone Gunmen 
Washington, D.C.

The pair took a cab to the heart of Washington, D.C.  As the car stopped at the appointed address, Bennet glanced around at her surroundings.  This was definitely not the side of D.C. that tourists sent home to friends on the backs of postcards.  Despair and broken dreams were everywhere. 

Buildings were boarded up and homeless people littered the sidewalks. Darcy stepped over a passed-out drunk as he approached a steel door.  The small windows on either side of the portal were barred.  Bennet raised her eyebrows and murmured, "Are they keeping people out or themselves locked in?"

Darcy turned back to her and smiled mysteriously.  "Both," he replied.  He rapped on the door in a series of short followed by long knocks.  Bennet noticed a security camera hidden behind the broken wall light. 

"Your friends seem to value security," she observed.

"Let's just say they have suspicious natures."  With a low buzz, the steel door popped open and the pair entered.

As they trod up the stairs, Bennet asked, "So are you going to tell me who your friends are, or are you going to keep me in suspense?"

"Oh, I don't think I can adequately make out their character.  I'll leave that pleasure to you," he answered, his eyes glittering.

'If that wasn't a forewarning,' Bennet thought, 'I don't know what is.'

"Alright then, how about telling me what they do?" she asked as they reached the second--or was it third--story.  Darcy opened the sagging door and looked down the hallway.  He nodded his head and turned right.  Bennet began to think he was going to ignore her question when he answered.

"They publish a website called 'The Lone Gunman.'  They monitor covert actions, classified weapons, anything government related.  Most of their information is very accurate."

"And the rest of their information?" Bennet asked skeptically.

"Well..."

"Hm, that's what I thought."

Darcy halted at the fourth door on the left and twisted the door knob left then right in a series as if opening  a combination lock.  Bennet crossed her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes. 

"They're not suspicious at all," she said ironically.  "No, just a LITTLE paranoid." 

After having passed another test, the door swung open and revealed, in Bennet's thinking, mayhem.  Cables and exposed wires threaded to form a brightly colored and highly conductive carpet.  Beeping and whirring noises whispered softly.  A sudden movement from behind a huge mainframe caught her attention.

"Hi, Bingley," Darcy greeted the long-haired blonde who peered from behind the computer. 

"Darcy, guess who I had lunch with today?  Charlton Heston.  He says the NRA's about to launch a national weapons offensive.  Wants to put a gun in every hand--instead of a chicken in every pot," he cackled at his own joke. Bennet winced while Darcy merely replied, "Really?" 

The blonde continued while typing on a nearby keyboard, "Yeah, says the government said he could arm every member of society if they could have an all-out campaign to crack down on crime.  Then the NRA would slowly take the guns away and make the bill look effective."

Bennet furrowed her brow, unsure if she understood the young man's reasoning, but afraid to ask for a further explanation.  Her eyes turned to two figures resting on a couch at the far side of the room.  Darcy followed her gaze and smiled, "Gentlemen, let me introduce my partner.  Special Agent Elizabeth Bennet, this is--"

"Darcy, since you're by the refrigerator, would you care to hand me a Sam Adams?"  The man who asked was dressed in a dark, well-fitting business suit with a white shirt and red tie.  Darcy reached under a folding table laden with papers and the guts of a circuit board and into a small refrigerator.  He  pulled out a brown ale bottle and tossed it into the waiting hands of the well-dressed man. 

"Easy, man.  This is a special brew I have a friend of mine in the brewery make up!" he cautioned after deftly catching the ale. 

"Bennet, this is Hurst, and beside him is Lucas," Darcy introduced.

Lucas was a small, but portly man with a tuft of hair on his head and a messy goatee.  "Of course she is your partner, and a very desirable one at that," he lauded and took her hand to kiss gallantly.

"Agent Darcy was not very pleased when he heard of my assignment to him. Now, however, he seems to have accepted the fact," Bennet interjected ruefully.

"But considering the inducement, my dear Agent Bennet, one cannot wonder at his acceptance; for who would object to such a partner?"

Darcy raised his surprised eyebrows upon witnessing Bennet's slight blush. He cleared his throat and withdrew Bennet's hand from Lucas' devoted grip. "Enough of the courting, Lucas.  However pleasing it is to Agent Bennet, it's taking us off track."

"And that track would be?" queried Bingley.

"Information."

"Ah, in the end everyone comes to us, for, after all, we are the only place to get the real facts," Hurst inserted after taking a sip of his Sam Adams.

"We'll give you anything you and your lovely partner want," Lucas replied, ready to slay dragons for Bennet. Darcy ro lled his eyes.  "What have you heard about UFOs in Maine?"

"Just some of the basics," replied Bingley, leaving his computer to concentrate on the topic at hand.  "Citizens have been seeing them for years now, but no one has brought forth concrete proof so your guys have buried it."

"What about the Air Force base that is located in Netherfield County?" Bennet asked trying to bring the conversation back to a more realistic topic.

"It mainly studies weather phenomena and is the first base that would be sent out in the event of a world disaster," Hurst interjected from his position on the couch.

Bennet smiled triumphantly at Darcy.  However, Lucas' next statement unintentionally wiped the smile off. 

"A few years ago, a UFO video tape was circulating among our friends.  It was fairly remarkable because it was practically flawless."

Darcy grinned at Bennet.  "You said 'practically flawless'?" she asked in defense. 

"Well, yeah, they thought that just because they couldn't find any flaws it didn't mean that the tape was flawless."

Bingley nodded his head, "I remember that.  Hurst, didn't you see the tape at one time?"

Hurst rose and tossed his empty bottle in a nearby trash can--an action Bennet thought strange since the rest of the room was a mess.  A thoughtful looked crossed the face of the suited man.  "I did see it and it WAS remarkable.  Now where did I put it?" he asked rhetorically.

"Do you mean you have a copy of the tape?" Bennet asked incredulously.

"No, I mean I have the original," he responded.

Darcy's mouth lifted in an almost smile as Bennet glanced in his direction. "Why did I even bother to ask?" she murmured.

"I told you, most of their information is very accurate," Darcy reminded her, his eyes gleaming. 

In the meantime, Hurst rifled through a stack of video tapes on a table as the other two Lone Gunmen searched through a book shelf.  "It's not here. I was sure it was here," Hurst mumbled to himself.  "Did you find it?" he asked of his friends.  Both shook their heads, their faces downcast.

Bennet shot Darcy a 'why am I not surprised' look. 

Darcy slightly changed the subject.  "Have you heard about any classified air craft being tested at that base?"

Lucas scratched his goatee and looked thoughtful.  "Well, the Pentagon recently approved the building of  a new weather monitor to track jet streams--or at least," he smirked, "that's what they SAY its for."

Darcy nodded.  Bennet glanced at him as if to say, 'See, nothing paranormal.' 

"Hey, Agent Bennet.  Did you know that the military has spy planes that can see what you're eating for dinner?" Bingley asked looking up at the ceiling.   Lucas nodded sympathetically.  "That is exactly why I eat food of a mushy consistency.  This way no one but me knows what goes in my stomach."

Bennet turned and walked out the door.  Darcy shrugged his shoulders and followed her.  "Come back anytime!" Hurst called after her politely.

"Yeah, any time at all," murmured Lucas. 
 
 

Chapter 3
 

Outside the office of The Lone Gunmen 
Washington, D.C.

"I'll grant you this, Darcy.  Your friends are definitely weird," Bennet stated as she pushed the steel door open like a prison escapee.  Darcy closed the door behind them and joined her on the sidewalk.  His eye glittered with suppressed laughter.

"DON'T say it!" Bennet warned, reading the thoughts clearly written on his face.  "Don't even THINK it!"

"Alright, I'll only say this, if you ever need a date...."

She slugged him on the arm.

"Ouch!" he cried, then massaged his offended bicep.  "Where to now?  Our plane doesn't leave for another three hours."

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving.  Why--"

She was interrupted by the ringing of Darcy's cell phone.  He withdrew it from the breast pocket of his suit coat and opened it to respond to the call.  "Darcy."

An elegant, but masculine, voice answered his greeting.  "Agent Darcy, your case is bigger than what it seems now.  You must doubt what you see and look for what does not coincide.  The truth is at hand, cleverly disguised, but at hand."

"Who are you?" Darcy questioned.  Bennet's head snapped back from her search for a cab.  She focused on his intense face.

"A man of information."

Darcy's brow furrowed. 

"Meet me in the parking structure underneath JFK airport before you fly out.  I have something which will aide your search."

The line went dead.  "What was that all about?" Bennet asked.

"Someone who wants to help," Darcy replied cryptically.  A cab stopped in front of the pair.  Darcy opened the door and gestured for her to get in. "Lunch?" he reminded her when she remained rooted to her spot.  Slowly she nodded her head, still confused about his answer that wasn't really an answer. 

*      *      *

JFK International Airport 
Washington, D.C.

Darcy stood silently, his ears and eyes attuned to the slightest movement. Although it was mid-afternoon, this section of the parking structure was deserted.  At the slight echo of a footfall, Darcy's attention whipped around.  His gaze rested on a youngish man with blonde hair leaning against a support  beam. 

"Agent Darcy, I presume," he smiled in a welcoming manner with a slight inclination of his head.

"And you would be..."

"That is unimportant.  What is important is that I am in possession of some information which you are seeking."

"How am I to know that you speak the truth?  On the phone you said you wish to help me.  However, now we not only meet in secret, but you forego the politeness of an introduction."

"Darcy, that is most ungenerous of you.  Surely you realize that secrecy in these matters is of utmost importance.  If you must have a name by which to call me, Fitzwilliam will accomplish the task." He smiled a small, secretive smile, "It is, of course, not my real name, but I believe it suits me."

Darcy nodded once.

"Now, as to the information," his hand drifted to the breast pocket of his camel-colored trench coat.  He withdrew a package and handed it to Darcy.

Darcy, taking the offering, asked, "What is it?"

"That which your friends could not find," Fitzwilliam replied cryptically.

Darcy looked at the package he held and slipped a finger beneath the fold to open it.  He blindly grabbed the plastic object and removed it.  Looking up from the VHS tape in his hand, he started to form a question for Fitzwilliam.  The man was gone.  Darcy glanced back at the tape and nodded his head.  Then he smiled. 

*      *      *

Delta Flight 248 to Bangor, Maine 
JFK International Airport

Darcy hurried to his seat on the airplane.  Bennet having already checked the luggage, sat impatiently waiting on her partner. 

"What took you so long?" she chastised as Darcy slid into the seat beside her.  "I thought the plane was going to take off without you."

"Bennet," he said excitedly, "I have the video tape!"

Her brow furrowed.  "The one that Hurst couldn't find?"

Darcy nodded. "Fitzwilliam had it." At her questioning look, he continued, "The phone call I received outside of the Lone Gunmen's office?  It turns out we have a friend in the business."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know, but I think that is part of the deal if he is to continue helping us.  He told me to refer to him as 'Fitzwilliam,' but other than that..."

"Can you trust him?"

"That seems to be the question of the hour."

The plane's engines roared to life and the pair sat back to listen to another demonstration of seat belt use and emergency exit location.
 
 

Chapter 4
 

Comfort Inn 
Bangor, Maine

Since the plane had landed at 7:35 pm and the drive to Netherfield County was over two hours, the agents decided to take rooms near the airport and leave early in the morning.  Bennet sat on the single bed in Darcy's room, her suit jacket casually draped over a nearby chair.  Darcy, his jacket flung over another chair, had rolled his shirt-sleeves up and removed his tie.  She sat watching him as he adjusted the TV and VCR.  He popped in the tape formerly owned by Hurst and pressed 'play.'  For a moment, snow filled the screen, then it was replaced by a purple field.  He stopped the tape and fiddled with the VCR.  Bennet rolled her eyes and shook her head as she leaned back against the headboard.

"Darcy, I'm having flashbacks to my childhood."

"Oh?  How's that?" he mumbled against the screen.

"This reminds me of watching the home videos my parents made of me and Lydia when we were growing up.  It always took Papa fifteen minutes before the video was properly set up to watch."

Darcy shot her a dark look over his shoulder, but realized, upon seeing her face, that she was looking in the past.  His lips curved into a small smile at her reverie and replied, "Sorry, I forgot the popcorn.  But I can guarantee this is going to be a thriller."

Pulled out of her memories, she asked, "Darcy, if this does show conclusive proof of aliens, what does it matter?"

"What does it matter, Bennet?  It matters a great deal.  Finally, the federal government will be forced to admit that we are not alone in the universe."

Bennet sighed, "Then what?  Darcy, you've made your whole life a search for aliens, what will you do if or when you finally find them?"

Darcy rocked back on his heels.  "Hopefully, I'll have found my sister."

"And after she's safely back with your family?" she pressed.  "Will you return to the FBI, and if so, to do what?  We both must admit that your investigations, while well thought-out, are highly unconventional.  Such unorthodox practices hardly mesh well with the straight-laced investigation techniques promoted by the FBI."

"Well, considering that a:  we haven't found them yet, and b:  my sister is still missing, I think I can safely say that I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

"Or as they say in Georgia, 'I'll think about it tomorrow because tomorrow is another day'?" she shot back, affecting a charming southern accent. He turned, a ghost of a smile decorating his lips. 

He stood up and, remote in hand, joined her on the bed.  "Move over," he commanded.  She shrugged and complied as he sat Indian-style on the bed spread.  He pushed 'play' again and the snow receded to a dazzling night sky.  Low murmurs of voices could be faintly heard in the background. Someone was pointing out constellations to a child. 

Bennet smiled and whispered, "Deja vu again, Darcy."

"Wait."

Suddenly the bright stars were outshone by a brilliant display of lights. A saucer-shaped vessel appeared on the horizon.  The lights rotated around the figure.  The camera began to lose power and the image faded as the vessel approached.  The ship paused a few yards away from the camera.  The  cameraman panned the area to get an overall picture of the scene.  The silver metal of the ship's hull dully reflected the cascade of lights. Then, the picture died.  Darcy fast forwarded the tape to see if the man had continued filming.  A few minutes later, the picture broke through the snow and showed the  vessel retreating into the night.  Exclamations of disbelief could be heard in the background.  The cameraman followed the ship until it disappeared, then he stopped filming.  Darcy immediately pressed 'stop' and rewound the tape to the beginning.  Bennet, a silent figure next to him, sat and digested what  she had just seen. 

'It was indeed very convincing, but something HAS to be wrong with it,' she thought to herself.

"So much for deja vu, huh, Bennet?" 

"Actually no, I remember seeing this somewhere before."

"Bennet, you've been holding out on me.  You mean to tell me that you've had a close encounter with an alien race and you kept it a secret all this time.  I am all astonishment."

She chuckled.  "No, Darcy.  I mean that this scene coincides with other supposed UFO sightings."

"At last," he teased, "I've managed to convince the skeptic."

She smiled and sobered.  "I meant what I said.  'Supposed UFO sightings.' In fact, the pictures we just saw are almost identical to ones that you even have in some of your files."

"So, you're saying we've had more than one visit from these life forms?" "No, I'm saying that this cameraman obviously heard the other reports and decided to concoct a UFO sighting of his own.  In fact, the ships are too similar to not be a hoax."

"Bennet, you heard Hurst.  He said the tape was flawless and that it had to be real.  Besides, why would Fitzwilliam give me the tape in the first place?"

"Darcy, you just answered your own question.  He gave you the tape because he wanted to feed your belief in the existence of extraterrestrials before you started working on this case.  He gave you disinformation.  You yourself have said many times that the federal government thrives on leaking false information."

The tape stopped rewinding and Darcy pressed 'play' again, effectively halting her arguments. 

As soon as the camera died, he grabbed her wrist and used her watch to time the lapse.  Bennet was silent, secretly hoping that she had finally reached Darcy's rational side.  The minutes plodded along; an interminable length of time.  Darcy, however, seemed not to notice.  He was caught up in the regular movements of the second hand on Bennet's watch.  At length, the picture returned and Darcy dropped her hand. 

"Eight minutes, Bennet!"

"And that is relevant for what reason?"

"That is exactly the length of time that lapsed in the Netherfield sighting as well as two other New England sightings."
 
 

Chapter 5
 

Jack Miller's Residence 
Longbourne, Netherfield County

Darcy rapped on the wooden door of the modest house.  Bennet glanced around to the street and row of houses behind them.  He moved to knock on the door again.  Before he could raise his hand, the door was pulled open.  The agents looked into the house and saw no one.  Bennet dropped her gaze and found a young child holding the door. 

"Hi," she greeted with a warm smile, "are your parents at home?"

"We're with the FBI," Darcy interjected.

The young boy's eyes widened with an awe-filled look.  "Cool.  Hey, JACK! The FBI are here!" he yelled over his shoulder, not taking his eyes of the pair dressed in suits.  "Hey, are you guys going to arrest me?  That would be so cool.  Can I see your badges?"

Bennet glanced amusedly at her partner as she withdrew her identification to show to the boy.  "I'm Agent Bennet and this is my partner, Agent Darcy." Before she could continue, the boy's older brother appeared at the doorway.

"Hi, I'm Jack Miller.  I assume this is about the pictures?"

At Darcy's brief nod, he opened the door and motioned for the agents to enter.  "Robbie, go outside and play for a while."

"Aw, man, that's no fair!"

"Go on," Jack ordered in a stern voice.  After the child had left, the young man apologized, "I'm sorry for my brother's over exuberance.  He's on a 'guns and robbers' kick."

"Don't be," Darcy replied. "We don't normally get a welcome like that."

Jack smiled, "No, I guess not."  He led them to a well-furnished living room and gestured to the couch.  "So," he said, seating himself in an arm chair, "what do you want to know?"

"Tell us about that night," Bennet urged.

"Well, three of us, me, Tim Watson, and Mike Kanpher were driving back from an end-of-the-year party our fraternity hosted.  It was probably about 2:30 that morning.  The highway, which isn't heavily traveled during the day, was deserted that night.  We were joking around, you know, nothing special. The car all of a sudden died.  I remember I glanced at my watch just out of habit."

"What time was it?"

"I don't really know.  See I keep my watch set on minutes and seconds only. I run track at the University of Maine and so I've just gotten used to my watch being set that way.  Anyway, I got out of the car to look at the engine.  All of  a sudden this bright light was behind me.  I thought that it was another car and that the driver could help us.  But it definitely wasn't another car."

"What was it?" Bennet asked.

"Well, it was a UFO.  It had to be.  I've never seen anything like it before.  Mike grabbed his camera from the back seat--he's photo journalism major so he always has it with him.  That's how you guys got the pictures."

"Why did you send them straight to us and not to the local authorities?" Darcy asked.

"Well," Jack said sheepishly, "no one around here really believes people who say they've seen UFOs.  And with us coming back from a party I knew they would think we'd been drinking or doing drugs."

"Had you?" Bennet asked curiously.

"No way.  My body is a temple.  If I want to keep my scholarship, then its got to stay that way.  Not that I have any interest in the things to begin with."

"And what about your friends?"

"They wouldn't even think about using.  Their families would jerk them out of college and enlist them so fast they wouldn't know what had happened. Those two want to make their parents proud by becoming successes."

Bennet nodded, her curiosity satisfied.  "How did you know eight minutes had passed between the time your car died and the, um, vessel left?"

"I looked back down at my watch after the car's engine had restarted on its own.  I calculated eight minutes.  It seemed like forever at the time."

"Could you show us where you encountered the ship?" Darcy asked.

"Sorry, I've got to stay here with my little brother.  He's out for the summer and both of our parents are at work.  He's going to camp, but not until next week.  I will show you on a map, though."

He walked over to a wicker basket which sat at the edge of the entry way and pulled out a fold-out map.  He brought it back into the living room, moved his chair closer to the low table in front of the couch, and searched the map.  He found the highway and traced it with his finger.

"Here's the road and the car died right around in here.  I know because we had just passed the abandoned gas station that Mr. Wilson used to own."

Darcy gathered up the map and replied, "Thank you for your time, Jack. We'll look into the matter further and get back to you if we have any questions." The small group rose and the agents preceded the youth out the door.  Once the pair had moved to the porch, Robbie ran up to them.

"Agent Bennet, Agent Darcy!" he danced around the agents.  "Will you handcuff me?  Can I see your guns?"

Darcy smiled as Jack warned, "Robbie."  The child's questions subsided and Bennet leaned down to ruffle his hair. 

"Robbie, I can't do that, but I can send you some things from Headquarters as soon as we get back.  How about that?"

The child resumed his dancing and cried, "That would be GREAT!  Man, you guys aren't mean at all.  You're awesome!  I can't wait to show my stuff to Jimmy.  He's gonna be so jealous!"

"Okay, Robbie.  The agents have to leave now, so say goodbye."

"'Bye!  I can't wait to get my stuff!"

The pair walked down the sidewalk to their rented car.  As she opened the passenger door, Bennet waved goodbye to the child. 

*      *      *

Longbourne Air Force Base 
Netherfield County

"Lieutenant Jenkinson, we have received reports of strange aircraft in the area.  Do you know anything about this?" Bennet asked the older woman who stood in 'at ease' stance just outside the main building on the base.

"Yes, ma'am.  We have heard of these same reports, but we test new aircraft all the time, so many of the sightings have been related to the flights."

"Were you testing two days ago?" Darcy asked. "I'll have to check the records on that for you sir.  You understand I will be able to confirm whether or not we were testing, but I won't be able to disclose the nature of the aircraft?"

At his nod, she turned and led the agents into the building.  The main entry way was decorated in Air Force paraphernalia.  The floor had the base's seal embedded in the tile.  They walked up a flight of stairs and into a large room filled with cabinets and computers. 

"Officer on deck!" shouted a young man as all of the occupants rose to attention. 

"At ease, gentlemen.  Private, would you pull all of the testing records for the past week for me?"

The man moved to a file cabinet and began removing thick manila folders and stacking them on a nearby table.  "Ma'am, these are all of the fight testing records.  Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you.  You may return to your station."

Bennet raised her eyebrows, surprised at the formality on the base. Jenkinson noted the agent's reaction and replied, "I run a tight ship here. We have to be ready at a moment's notice and the only way to do that is to rigidly follow the chain of command. 

"Now, if you would, just have a seat while I look through these files." She indicated a row of chairs which lined the far wall.  Darcy glanced at Bennet and wandered over to them.  He looked around the room at the officers and their equipment, silently taking in the scene.  No sound was uttered from the people.  It seemed that only the machines were allowed a voice. 

After a few minutes, Jenkinson motioned for the agents to come to the table.  She closed the last file she had looked at and replied, "Sir, Ma'am, there were no test flights this week."

"Would you mind looking at some pictures, Lt. Jenkinson?" Darcy asked as he removed the glossy photos from his breast pocket and handed them to her. "Do you recognize this aircraft?"

She flipped through the pictures suspiciously and asked, "Where did you get these?"

"They came from a group of young men who were driving on Highway 3 two nights ago.  Why, do you see anything familiar?" Darcy pressed.

"I'm sorry, I can't say," she replied, her face a cool mask.  "Do you need anything else?"

Bennet replied, "No, thank you for your time."

*      *       *
 

Highway 3 
Netherfield County

"She clammed up too fast after she saw the pictures.  She knows something, Bennet," Darcy warned as he turned onto the highway.

"I got that feeling, too.  The only question is, 'what?'"

It was growing dark and Darcy flipped the headlights on.  Bennet sat in the passenger seat with a map in her lap and the pictures in her hands. "How long before we get to the place where they saw the UFO?" Darcy asked. 

"Getting anxious, Darcy?" Bennet teased.  "You sound like a child, 'Are we there yet?'"

He shot her a mirthful glance and replied, "Okay MOM, how much longer?"

"Looking at the map, we've got about two hours.  Besides, its not as if we're going to see an 'actual' UFO."

"You never know, Bennet, you never know."

*      *      *

Longborne Air Force Base 
Netherfield County

The base was deserted.  Most of the officers had retired to their bunks or were in the mess hall finishing dinner.  The main building was dark except for a low light which streamed into the corridor from an open office.  A low murmur came from the room.

"Yes, sir," Jenkinson said quietly into the phone.  "I saw them myself. They have the pictures.  No, sir, they didn't say anything about a video tape.  Yes, sir, I understand."  She hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, a look of quiet contemplation on her face.
 
 

Chapter 6
 

Highway 3, site of the UFO encounter 
Netherfield County

Bennet quietly shut the door of the car and walked out into the middle of the road.  "Well, Darcy, this should be the place.  The abandoned gas station is a few miles back.  If this isn't the site, then we're at least in the general area."

Darcy nodded his head and roamed around the treeline. 

"What exactly are you looking for anyway?  Is this one of those times when you'll know it when you see it?" she asked following her partner's movements with her eyes.

"You could say that," was his muffled reply. 

She moved to the other side of the road and looked for anything that didn't belong.  The search was somewhat difficult since the grass had not been trimmed in some while.  The sky was pitch black with no moon to light her way.  She pulled out a flashlight from her coat pocket and pointed the beam through the trees.  Bennet cautiously walked through the trees and found herself in a small clearing next to a large grouping of rocks.  The area looked to be an abandoned stone quarry.  She aimed the light across the rocks and found nothing out of the ordinary.  She pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket and dialed Darcy's number.  After the first ring, he answered.

"Darcy, there's nothing over here but an old stone quarry.  It looks like its been abandoned for several years.  Have you found anything?"

"Nothing over here, but stone quarries are notorious for attracting UFOs. The minerals in the rocks......" The phone went dead.  Bennet looked closely at it and wondered, "What now?" She pressed the 'End' and 'Send' buttons each several times trying to reestablish a connection.  A bright light beamed through trees.  Bennet, thinking that Darcy had caught up to her, turned to greet her partner. "Darcy--" the greeting died on her lips, "what the hell?" 

Bright lights gleamed from a small, oblong-shaped vessel that hovered over the trees about 20 yards away.  It seemed to be suspended in mid-air. Bennet slowly stepped toward the aircraft.  She raised her flashlight to get a clearer look, but found that the bulb had died.  As she approached, she noticed that the vessel appeared to be moving closer to her.  She paused and the vessel continued to approach. 

Bennet heard a slight rustle in the background, but did not acknowledge the sound.  Darcy cautiously moved up behind her.  The air craft seemed to notice the movement and suddenly halted.  The lights dimmed to a faint glow and the craft sped off into the night.

"Well, Bennet, I guess I found what I was looking for."

Bennet shook her head as if to clear it and turned to her partner.  "Darcy, that wasn't what you think it was."

"Why not?  It has bright lights, it flies, and neither one of us know what it is."

"Darcy, it doesn't match the description of the other vessels that people have identified as UFOs.  This craft was oblong, almost like a football."

"I guess aliens like Monday Night Football as much as the rest of us."

She shot him a serious look.  "Darcy, I'm not convinced that what we just saw was an alien space ship."

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked with an ironic smile. 

"I'd like to take the pictures and the video tape tomorrow to an authentication lab the FBI has in Hunsford.  I think all of these events were staged."

"And what about tonight?   Surely you have to admit that was a UFO."

She sighed, "In the strictest sense of the words, yes.  However, that doesn't mean that I think aliens piloted that vessel."

"While you go to Hunsford, I'll go back to the Air Force base and see what I can dig up.  I might yet convince you that you've just had a 'close encounter of the third kind.'"

*      *      *

Highway 95 
en route to Hunsford, Maine

Bennet, having dropped Darcy off at a car rental, drove to Hunsford with the pictures and video tape safely ensconced in her briefcase on the passenger seat.  She glanced down at the map which sat atop the satchel and calculated that her journey would take at least another two hours.  She had informed the lab of her arrival early this morning before she left the inn.

'They can't be real.  Once and for all, I have to find some way to convince Darcy of that fact.' 

But what if they are real? a small voice from the back of her head questioned.  She fiercely squelched that notion.  To accept it--no to even consider it--would turn her well-ordered and highly scientific world upside down.  Her head reeled at the mere thought of that occurrence.  To have everything she ever believed to be so completely blown away frightened her. Indeed, although she wouldn't admit it out loud, Bennet clung desperately to her science.  She often rationalized that everything had an explanation, including her father's mysterious death one year ago. 

She thought back to the circumstances surrounding that time.  She had just finished her second year of teaching at the FBI Academy at Quantico and was on the fast-track to a permanent position in teaching.  Her medical and physics background had served her well in the instruction of the medical examiner's class.  Although as a rule, she wasn't too fond of cadavers and victims, she found that her jovial manner offset much of the queasiness found in her students. 

Around that time, Lydia had finished college and was trying to decide whether or not to accept her then boyfriend's marriage proposal.  Bennet smiled at the thought.  Their mother had been so excited at the prospect of planning a wedding.  Her father--what HAD he been doing? 

'Mother always said that the FBI was his life, but his work and position were so secret that even she didn't know what he did,' Bennet mused.  'He had just gotten back from his latest trip.  He was in such a frantic state that he left the luggage tags on his bags.'

She remembered looking down at them and seeing 'CT.'  She had always assumed that he had just returned from Connecticut, but he never said a word about what had taken place there.  He left the house and was found later in a Washington side-street murdered, execution style--a gun to the back of his head.   The police had closed the case after a drug cartel member had confessed, but Bennet had always questioned the motive.  Her father would never involve himself in that business--not even for the FBI.  His morale standards were set so high....

She shook her head, trying to rid the bad memory from her thoughts and considered what happened after his death.  She had almost fallen apart. Her father had been her rock during her years in medical school.  Her mother was helpful, but did not possess a scholarly nature so she did not fully understand the pressures.  Bennet's mother had gone into a state of shock for about two weeks, then recovered and focused her energy on charities and--more importantly--Lydia's future happiness.  She had long ago given up on her eldest daughter.   Bennet took a six month leave of absence from the Academy.  She couldn't bring herself to work in the career that her father had sponsored and promoted her in.  When she returned from her leave, she petitioned for a field position and was assigned to Agent Darcy.  She leaned over and turned the radio on in an attempt to banish the bothersome thoughts.

 *      *      *

Mountain Inn and Getaway 
Longbourne, Maine

After returning with another rental car--the FBI was going to love this expense report--Darcy returned to his room to place a long-neglected call. The phone was answered on the second ring and he heard a soft click as a tape recorder was  set to memorize the conversation.

"Lone Gunmen," Lucas answered.

"Lucas, it's Darcy."

"Darcy, what a pleasure to hear from you!  Are you and the lovely Agent Bennet taming the wilds of Maine?"

"In a way.  Lucas, is Hurst around?  I found one of his lost possessions."

Darcy heard a muffled fumbling of the phone which was replaced by Hurst's voice. 

"Did you find the tape?" he asked.

"It was given to me before we left.  I've seen it and it is very convincing--even Bennet had to admit that she was impressed."

"But did she believe it?"

"What do you think?  She's taking it to an FBI authentication lab about three hours from here.  I guess we'll know soon enough how real it is. Have you heard of any activity in our area last night?"

"Not a blip, and we've been keeping a close eye out.  Why?  Did something happen?"

"You could say that.  Bennet and I saw a UFO.  The only trouble is, it doesn't match the pictures or the video tape.  She's convinced everything is a hoax, but I'm not so sure.  I'm going back to the Air Force base today to see if they launched anything last night.  Oh, and tell Lucas I found the perfect woman for him.  Lt. Jenkinson--a real man's woman," Darcy smiled sardonically into the  receiver. 

"We'll keep you posted if we hear anything.  And Darcy, I'd like to have my tape back so keep up with it!" he growled.

Darcy hung up the phone.  He smiled, thinking of the excuses he was likely to hear from Lt. Jenkinson.

*      *      *

FBI Lab 
Hunsford, Maine

Bennet paced around the glass-enclosed lab and watched the progress of one of the lab's technicians as he calmly applied chemicals to Jack Miller's negatives.  Patience had never been her strong suit, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and relax.  Increasing her already mounting agitation would serve no purpose, especially since Darcy was not there to feel the brunt of it.  'If nothing else, my partner is an excellent competitor in a game of wits,' she thought ruefully to herself.  She leaned against the far window and smiled, easing her former stance of the brooding FBI agent to that of a female amused by a member of the opposite sex.  For all his belief in extraterrestrials, there was something about him that fascinated her.  Mayhap it WAS his unstinting beliefs.  She had ached for the little boy whose sister had disappeared so mysteriously; still ached for the man who refused to believe that same sister was gone forever.  'It explains so much,' she thought.  His ! brooding personality--which, after one got to know him, was not so brooding, merely reserved.  His distrust of authority founded when his parents refused to believe him and the police had given up the search. 

"Agent Bennet?" the tech startled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"The negatives have not been altered.  I would have been able to find some hint of a former picture or a shadow of a merge with the chemicals I used."

"And the video tape?"

"That will take a little more time.  I have a group of our experts reviewing the tape looking for anything out of the ordinary.  If they find nothing, then I will go through this same process.  I must warn you though that the tape will be affected by the chemicals.  I suggest we copy it and then test the original."

Bennet nodded her agreement and replied, "You'll tell me when you find out anything?"

"Of course.  This will take some time.  Why don't you go get something to eat and come back in couple of hours.  We should know something by then."

She heeded his suggestion and left the room, leaving the pictures in his care.

*      *      *

Longbourne Air Force Base 
Netherfield County

 Darcy pulled the car up to the side door of the main building on the base and put it in park.  He glanced around only to find dozens of troops scurrying around in drill precision.  He smiled to himself.  'Good idea, Lt. Jenkinson.  Make it look like you've been drilling your men and women.' He chuckled  at the unoriginality of the thought and shrugged.  He had expected to see something like this.  He got out and waved down a passing truck loaded with airmen. 

"Can you tell me where I might find Lt. Jenkinson?"

"Sir, I believe she is at Air Hanger B, to your left and behind the gates," the private answered before pealing off.

Darcy returned to his car and followed the directions.  Soon enough, he saw the Lieutenant giving orders to her men.  She glowered as she saw him approach. 

"Agent Darcy," she called, "we're in the middle of a drill that started last night.  Do you care to explain what you are doing here?"

"I'd like to find out if you had any test flights last night." 

She sighed and then, as if speaking to child, said, "As I mentioned, this is a drill.  During a drill we test out all equipment so that we may be ready in the event of a national emergency.  So, yes, I did order test flights to be flown last night.  Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem.  Can you describe for me the planes you sent up last night?"

"That's classified," she replied with a shuttered gaze.

Darcy smiled charmingly.  "Lieutenant.  You and I both know that all I have to do is call the Pentagon and ask to speak to the Under Secretary and I can have any information I wish.  This is an FBI investigation."

She was unmoved by the entreaty.  "Then why don't you do so and stop wasting my time?"  She turned back to the men who still awaited orders, effectively closing the meeting.

Darcy, startled by the rebuff, turned and walked back to the car.  He sat for a moment and watched the hubbub.  After a while he noticed that one hanger had no activity at all.  He glanced to Lt. Jenkinson's last location and found her leading a group of troops away from him.  He got out of the car and slipped over to the quiet hanger.  In all of the activity, he was hardly noticed and reached the building without challenge.  He trod along the side until he reached a metal door.  He twisted the knob and found it locked.  Darcy stole around the corner of the steel frame and found yet another door.  Once more he tried the knob.  This time, it opened easily. 

He peered into the structure and, finding it deserted, stepped inside. Cool air encased him.  A soft light dimly illuminated his surroundings. His eyes searched the building and, after a moment, rested upon a familiar shape.  A oblong metal vessel hovered at the far end of the hanger.  He approached the  air craft cautiously, with every step, his eyes confirmed his suspicions. It was the vessel from last night.  The UFO that he and Bennet had encountered.  He ran his hand along the smooth underside quietly pondering the latest events.   'If this is a new weather monitor, then why have a drill so suddenly?' he thought to himself. 

Darcy could hear Jenkinson reply in the back of his head, 'Because that's why its called a drill.'  He shook his head, she was using this drill to cover something up.  'Which means,' he thought, 'that the UFOs weren't hoaxes at all.' He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

"Bennet," came the tinny reply.

"It's me, Bennet.  I've found our UFO from last night."

"Where?"

"In a secluded hanger on the Air Force Base.  It would seem that your conjecture was correct. 

But it also means something else.  That Jenkinson was using it to cover for the other sightings."

"Well, I guess I have to agree with you as far as the Miller sighting goes, Darcy.  The pictures weren't faked."

"And the video tape?"

"The lab is still looking into that.  I've had them make a copy so that they can test the original without worrying about destroying it.  They should have something in a couple more hours."

Darcy heard approaching voices and muttered, "I've got to go."  He closed the phone and tucked it into his pocket.  It wouldn't do to be caught gawking at a top secret weather craft.  He stole behind a stack of boxes as the voices grew louder.  He heard a group of soldiers enter the hanger and cross to the far end away from the air craft.  As soon as he judged they were far enough away, he  slipped through the door and headed back to his car. 

*      *      *

FBI Lab 
Hunsford, Maine

"Any word on the video tape?" Bennet asked as she entered the lab.

The lab tech shook his head.  "I've had my team going over it and they all consider it to be quite real.  I've yet to do the chemical testing though," he answered.

Bennet saw the last few frames of the video play on a television in a room just off of the main lab area.  The picture jumped to a snowy screen and the tech popped the video out. 

"Here's the copy if you would like to keep it?" He handed her the unmarked tape, but she shook her head.

"No, keep it here.  I would rather be certain of its safety."

"I guess you understand what this could mean if this tape does indeed turn out to be real?" he asked.  She nodded grimly.  "I guess the government will have a lot of explaining to do," he continued. 

He removed the film from the cassette and began the process of chemical testing.  She sat down in a chair nearby and watched as he mixed the liquids and applied them to the film.  "Unfortunately, this could take some time.  To get an accurate reading, the chemicals have to soak through the film.  I guess you didn't bring any other work with you?"

She smiled, "No, and I have nothing better to do than to wait.  So, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay."  She rose and picked up a magazine from a desk in the corner of the room then returned to her seat.  He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his work.

Six hours later, the lab tech was still bent over the table.  The length of tape that had been fully analyzed with the chemical compounds was nearing the end of the reel.  Bennet sat in the nearby chair flipping through the same magazine she had already read four times.  She glanced up at the tech's hunched shoulders and sighed inwardly. 

"I'm finished, Agent Bennet," he announced, sitting up to roll his shoulders and neck. 

"What can you tell?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, if there has been some sort of modification of the original tape, the changes will have dissolved and the actual footage will be revealed."

"In other words, abra cadabra."

"Something like that."  He carefully dried the last frames and rolled the film up to the beginning.  He used his finger as a make-shift reel and pulled the tape slowly across a halogen light.  Bennet squinted her eyes, forcing them to search for the slightest change from the original film. What she saw astonished her. 

"It's the same as it was before the test."

The lab tech slowly nodded, concurring with her results.  "The tape is authentic, Agent Bennet."

She stared dumbly at the film as he continued to roll it through his fingers.  'It was real.  So what was the vessel?'

"Ah, thank you, um for all of your work.  If you don't mind, I'd like to take this with me."

"Certainly."

She grabbed the film out of his hands and rushed out of the lab.  Once in the hall, she dialed Darcy's number and waited for him to answer. 

"Darcy, it's me," she frantically stated when he finally responded. 

"It's authentic, isn't it?" he replied flatly.

"Yes.  I have the original that was tested, but I left the copy and the negatives at the lab for safe-keeping."  She walked out into the cool night air and headed down the street toward her car. 

"I'll meet you at the lab in Hunsford in three hours," he replied.  She pocketed her phone and walked to the vehicle.  She decided to go grab some dinner while  she waited on Darcy.  As she neared the car, she noticed a tall figure with thick dark hair standing in the shadows, a lighted cigarette to his mouth. He moved to stand in front of her car, blocking her access to the driver's side door.  He was tall and his boyish features belied the aura of danger which lurked around him.

"Excuse me," she said as she tried to sidestep him. 

"Agent Bennet.  I have been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" 

His smile did not reach his eyes as he answered, "One who has all of the answers."

"All of the answers about what?" she asked skeptically.

"In this case it is not so much a question of 'what' but of 'whom,'" he replied cryptically.  "Your partner, Special Agent Fitz Darcy, he has told you of his sister's abduction?"  At her mute nod, he took another draw from his cigarette and continued. "I understand he thinks that aliens took her several years ago.  Your partner has been lying to you, Agent Bennet. There is no government conspiracy to hide the existence of extraterrestrials.  He is only trying to discredit me."

"I don't understand, but if you would excuse me, I have some place I need to be."

"I'm sorry, but your trip will have to wait," he replied taking her arm in a firm grasp and steering her away from the car.  "You must understand the truth before you see your partner again and he fills your head with more lies.   "Darcy was my protégé while he was at the Academy.  He was a bright student, but quite obsessed with this notion about aliens and his sister. I tried to disabuse him of that idea.  He would have had a bright future, but he refused to follow in my footsteps.  So, I created a project for him: the P Files.  Of course he will say that he found them; you see, he still does not understand.  They are works of fiction, every single case.  I wanted to bring him to his senses, therefore, I allowed him to investigate every wild claim made in those files.  I believed that once he found on his own that the paranormal world is a lie, he would return to our work."

"And what, exactly was 'your' work?" Bennet asked. 

His mouth formed a frigid smile.  "That is not of your concern.  What you should realize is that he is making a fool out of you.  Surely with your scientific background, you do not believe his wild accusations?" he questioned rhetorically. 

"How do you explain the video tape?"

His cigarette glowed once more before he answered.  "Do you know how he came into possession of it?"

"Yes, someone met him," she started, then slowly finished her thought as his words sunk in, "and told him it would help on this case."

The man smiled once more.  "I see you understand now.  From time to time, a colleague of mine will supply Darcy with clues that are not really clues. Always trying to show him the answers that he still refuses to see."

"The video tape is authentic.  It has been tested."

"Of course it is.  There was no need to modify it when the original had been created with no problems."

"Why does he want to discredit you?" she asked curiously as she surreptitiously placed a hand in her pocket to make sure the film was still there.

"A few years ago, Darcy found some files of cases that I had been working on.  Most concerned highly sensitive matters of national security."

Bennet nodded, curious about the work this man did. 

"In them, I had been named a spy for a U.S. based Iraqi terrorist group. It was all a cover.  I had been planted to monitor their operations.  They knew that I was an FBI agent when I approached them about combining our efforts.  I was to feed them information and disinformation regarding some of our current actions against Iraq.  For the FBI, my duty was to find incriminating evidence against the leader and bring him to justice.  Darcy, upon finding this and other files involving my undercover activity, accused me of treason and threatened to expose me to the President, who knew nothing of the FBI's actions.  Indeed, my involvement was so classified that only four other people knew.  I explained the  motives for the work and tried to convince him that he, too, had a role to play if only he would give up his quest and devote his full concentration to the work.  However, he refused and left my operation in a quandary.  He had been researching for my team and when the time came to use that information, it was  out-of-date and I was almost killed.  Had it not been for some improvising on the part of my team, I would be dead and Darcy would be at fault."

"So you gave him the P Files to investigate until he got it out of his system?" Bennet asked, impressed with the man's generous nature. 

He smiled a true smile, with only a hint of evil in his eyes, "I see we understand each other, Agent Bennet."

"Do you want him to return to your investigation?"

"Only if he comes of his own free will.  In fact, that is where you come in.  I would like you to help me convince him that his beliefs are false, and that he would be much better served by returning to more worthwhile work.  You are in grave danger should you refuse me.  Darcy is a forbidding man when he believes someone has turned against him.  How do you think I received this scar?" he asked drawing up the sleeve of his coat to reveal a jagged red and puckered line on his forearm. 

Upon seeing her doubtful reaction, he replied, "At this point in time, he still thinks you are working against him, but you should approach him with due caution."

"You are only asking me to continue to follow the orders I was given at the outset," she turned back to her car and unlocked the door.  "But I'm not sure how much I can help you, Mister..."  Bennet looked over her shoulder to address the man, but he was gone. 
 
 

Chapter 7
 

outside the FBI lab 
Hunsford, Maine

Darcy pulled up to curb and found Bennet leaning against the hood of her car, waiting for him.  As he got out of his vehicle, he asked, "So, do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

She ignored his question and countered with one of her own, "Darcy, what did you do for the FBI before you found the P Files?"

He blinked, startled by the change of the subject and paused.  "Why do you want to know?"

"I just had an interesting conversation with your former mentor.  He says he was almost killed when you refused to complete your assignment," she bit out her scathing words. 

He swore under his breath "Wickham."

"You left his detail to search for paranormal activity?"  She looked at him incredulously.  "I thought I understood you, but now I'm beginning to believe that you are completely lost.  He told me he CREATED the P Files so that you would come to your senses and return to more mainstream work. Darcy, why can't you just accept the fact that aliens DON'T exist?"

"You've already made up your mind, haven't you?  You won't even listen to my side of the story?"

"What's to tell, Darcy?  We both know that your grand search for aliens and paranormal activity is only a feeble attempt to find a sister who is probably long dead!"  She turned and walked away, the fury at having been completely tricked coursed through her veins. 

The calm night air was suddenly shattered by the distinct popping of gun fire.  Bennet heard the loud sound seconds before searing pains tore through her body.  She fell forward from the force of the bullets.  The soft tapping of footsteps made her turn her head.  Darcy towered over her as she mercifully drifted out of consciousness. 

Darcy grabbed his cell phone and jabbed the numbers 911 as he knelt down beside her to feel for a pulse.  'Thank God,' he thought to himself as her heart weakly beat beneath her wrist. 

After two interminable rings, the operator finally picked up the call. "This is Special Agent Fitz Darcy, there is an agent down!  I repeat agent down at the FBI crime lab here in Hunsford.  I need an ambulance quickly, she has multiple gunshot wounds!" he urgently cried into the receiver.

Upon hearing the commotion, several residents of the apartment complex across the street left their rooms.   They watched the desperate man tear off his jacket and cover the young woman who lay frighteningly still. Blood coursed out of her wounds and trickled onto the concrete sidewalk. 

"Someone get me a towel or some wash cloths!" Darcy ordered as he noticed the bystanders.  Mercifully, several were handed to him a few seconds later.  He grabbed the hand of the woman who had retrieved the towels and said forcefully, "Keep pressure on each of the bullet wounds. The ambulance will be here in a moment.  I have to go find who did this to her."

As soon as she placed her hands on Bennet's back, Darcy raced across the street.  Deep in his heart he knew that the shooter was long gone, but he combed the area anyway.  The distinct wail of sirens crashed through the night and glaring lights illuminated the area behind him as the ambulance careened onto the street.  He gave up the search and returned to Bennet's side just as the EMTs were transferring her to the vehicle. 

"I'm her partner.  How is she?" he asked the uniformed woman holding the IV bag.

"She's unconscious, but if we get her to the hospital soon and into surgery, we may be able to save her."

"I'll follow you in my car," he called after her as Bennet disappeared into the van.  With a brief pause to thank the woman who had helped him, he jumped into the car and pealed after the ambulance.    *     *      *

Mercy Hospital Georgetown

After she was stabilized in the emergency room at the local hospital, Bennet was life-flighted to the bigger facility for surgery upon Darcy's request.  Two of the bullets had passed through her body--one through her thigh and the other through her abdomen barely missing the major organs. The third, however, remained lodged in her shoulder.  She had been heavily sedated for the flight and the paramedics kept a close eye on her vital signs.  As soon as the helicopter landed, she was rushed to the operating room where a surgeon was waiting. 

Darcy had called Assistant Director Gardiner from the chopper and reported the situation.  He also asked Gardiner to notify her family.  Bennet was still in surgery, but for most part out of danger.  Darcy now sat in the hospital's waiting room, his head in his hands, and thought over the day's events.   'Damn you, Wickham.  If you're responsible for hurting her, so help me, I'll kill you.'  He sighed. 

'God, what happened?' he asked himself.  He knew George Wickham to be a silver-tongued devil, but how could SHE have believed him?  Bennet, who never took anything at face value, had believed a man known by many to be a liar.  Darcy shook his head, unable to comprehend that thought.  The depth of his feelings for his partner surprised him.  When he heard the gunshots and saw her fall, his heart had stopped.  He couldn't bear to think how close it had been.  If the bullet that pierced her abdomen had been a scant few inches to the right or left, she would be dead.   She had only recently been assigned to him, but now he couldn't imagine what he had done without her.  Always questioning, always making him back up his beliefs with hard evidence, that was his partner. 

'What in hell could Wickham have told her?'  Questions continued to race through his thoughts as he tried to piece together a plausible scene.

"Agent Darcy?" the doctor prodded as he touched his shoulder.  The surgeon was an older man with salt and pepper hair.  His face was untouched by the lines of age, but his brow was creased with worry.  "Are you alright?" 

"What?  Oh, yes, Doctor.  How is Agent Bennet?  Is she out of surgery?"

The doctor nodded.  "She's in recovery right now.  Everything went well, but she'll have to remain in the hospital for a few days so that I can monitor her shoulder.  She may need more surgery if the ligaments and muscles draw up or atrophy.  Of course, she will need therapy, but Agent Bennet should regain total use of her shoulder."

Darcy sighed with relief.  "When can I see her?"

"I'm sorry, only family may see her right now."

"Doctor, her mother and sister have not yet arrived," he replied.  An anguished look crossed his features and he continued, "She's my partner.  I have to see her."

The doctor considered the younger man's plea, then nodded his agreement. "This way."

He led Darcy down the hallway to a large, open room with three occupied beds that had been wheeled in.  He bypassed the two men and walked straight toward Bennet.  Her long, dark hair was fanned out from her deathly white face.  She was still attached to the oxygen tank via a tube wrapped under her nose.  He gently caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles and tenderly removed a  strand of hair from her face.  The doctor watched closely as Darcy took her hand and clasped it within his own. 

Bennet's eyes drifted open and slowly focused.

"Hi, welcome back," Darcy softly greeted as he brushed the back of her hand with his lips.  "How are you feeling?"

Bennet, with as much strength as she possessed, pulled her hand from his grasp and called in a hoarse voice for the doctor.  "Doctor, please remove this man!  I have no wish to see him!"

"Bennet--Elizabeth, its alright.  Its me, Darcy," he said soothingly as he tried to calm her.

The puzzled doctor looked from his patient to the man seated beside her. 

"Doctor!  Please remove this man.  He--he tried to kill me," she argued, her voice fading until it was no more than a faint whisper. 

Darcy's jaw dropped in shock.  She thought he shot her?  It was all too much.  Darcy staggered to his feet and said to the doctor who had not heard her final words, "I believe I will leave.  I suddenly need some air."

The doctor shot Darcy a concerned looked, but then quickly focused on his patient who had slipped back into unconsciousness.  The agent stumbled out into the hallway and leaned against the wall.  His mind was reeling.  'How could she think I shot her?' he thought dazedly.  The doctor joined him in the hall and patted Darcy's shoulder.

"It's alright.  Whatever she said, don't take it personally.  She's under strong sedatives to ease the pain of the surgery.  She's not thinking straight." Darcy shot him a pained look and then resignedly nodded his head.  "You have my cell phone number if anything happens?"

The doctor nodded.  "I'll let you know if there is any change.  We should be moving her to her room in a few hours.  So you'll need to check in with the nurses' station when you return," he offered helpfully.

As Darcy walked down the hall and out the exit, a new resolve flowed through his veins.  He would get answers and he would get them before he saw Bennet again.  He hailed a cab, stepped into it, and gave the address to his apartment, all the while ignoring a distinctly human shriek.

Fanny Bennet raced into the hospital's emergency room, her hands and nerves aflutter, while her daughter, Lydia paused to flirt with an attractive paramedic. 

"Oh!  Oh!  Someone must DO something!" Fanny cried. 

"Miss, are you alright?" a concerned receptionist asked as she searched the woman for injuries.

"No!  Can't you see my nerves are giving me fits?  I have tremors in my hands and beatings at my heart and--oh--where's my daughter?"

"I'm right behind you, Mama," Lydia answered.

"Not you!  My darling Elizabeth!" she cried and then addressed the attendant.  "Elizabeth Bennet.  She was life-flighted here earlier.  I believe she underwent emergency surgery."

The receptionist tabbed through her computer screens until she found the name.  "Yes, she is here.  I believe she is in the recovery room right now. I'll page her doctor for you."

"Recovery room?" Fanny Bennet wailed.  "Oh, my darling girl."

Lydia walked her mother to one of the chairs which lined the waiting room wall.  The attendant heaved a sigh of relief and hoped that the doctor would answer his page quickly.  Thankfully, he did and removed the pair to another section of the lobby where he could speak more privately. 

As he explained the extent of her daughter's injuries, Fanny Bennet began to wail.  She quieted when he assured her that Elizabeth would be fine in a few days but needed to stay in the hospital.  "She is in the recovery room right now, but will shortly be moved to a room for the night.  If you would like, you may see her now, but it must be a short visit.  She is still heavily sedated and is only awake for a few minutes at a time."

Fanny and Lydia agreed and followed the surgeon down the same path that Darcy had recently trod.  Bennet's mother raced in, and, when she found her daughter, she wailed, "Oh, what has happened to my dearest girl?"

Lydia took her sister's hand and gently squeezed it.  "Lizzy, Mama and I are here.  Everything's going to be fine.  You will be up and out of here in no time.  Besides you must still meet Roger."

Elizabeth blinked her eyes several times and, upon seeing the faces of her mother and sister, promptly fainted again. 

*      *      *

Darcy's apartment 
Arlington, Virginia

Darcy paced around his apartment for ten minutes before he realized why he had returned home.  In his agitated state, he had forgotten that Fitzwilliam had given him no way to contact him should the need arise. Darcy continued to pace.  He sat down on the couch and punched the pillows a few times, he felt better afterwards and so proceeded to do so again.  As he looked around, he found  he had nothing to do.  He had already arranged for the rental companies to retrieve the cars and the luggage was safe at the inn.  He rose again and decided, "Fine, I'll get his attention the only way I know how."

He walked out of his apartment and took the stairs two at a time to the roof.  Once there, he leaned over the railing and yelled at the top of his lungs, "FITZWILLIAM!  You bastard, COME HERE!"  He darted over to the other sides of the building and continued screaming until he was hoarse.  Darcy then returned to his apartment to wait. 

He moved to sit on the couch again, feeling somewhat better after venting his frustrations. 

"No need to yell, Darcy, I'm right here."

Darcy's heart lurched to his throat, then settled back into place as he realized his call had been answered.  "You must have been close by," he commented to the figure who stood leaning against a door frame inside the room.

"Closer than you realize.  I assume this summons is in regards to your partner's untimely accident?"

Darcy nodded and got to the point.  "Who did it?"

"Hmm.  That I don't know.  Whoever is responsible, though,  just committed an unpardonable mistake in the game."

"The GAME?  My partner almost lost her life and all you can think about is how badly the 'game' is being played?" Darcy asked, his face a picture of incredulity.  "I don't believe this.  It turns out that the 'man of information' has no information after all!"

Fitzwilliam narrowed his eyes as he looked at Darcy.  He understood the other man was concerned about his partner and, therefore, made no comment about the snide remark. 

"I don't know precisely who shot Agent Bennet, but I can tell you who he works for:  a powerful group known only as the Syndicate."

"Why them?"

"They are the only ones who stand to gain if your investigation does not proceed."

"Then they are involved in the alien sightings?"

"You are partially right."

Darcy lunged at the other man and shoved him against the wall.  "Dammit, Fitzwilliam, I want some straight answers!  And I want them now or so help me, I will shoot you myself!"

Fitzwilliam's lips formed a half-smile as he remarked, "That's a little extreme, don't you think?  Especially since I am the only one currently offering to give you answers?"  He looked pointedly at Darcy's hands which gripped the lapels of the informer's trench coat. 

Darcy shoved him once more, then forcefully withdrew his hands and returned to his seat on the couch.  Fitzwilliam smoothed the wrinkles Darcy had inflicted upon the coat and then began speaking.  "This group has known about the existence of extraterrestrials for some time.  There has been some speculation regarding how the contact was formed, however, no one has even hinted at the true explanation."

"What is the 'true explanation'?" Darcy asked.

Fitzwilliam's lips twitched and he replied, "That I can't tell you. Listen, Darcy, 'can't' not 'won't.'  What I do know is that you have obviously gotten painfully close to the answer.  They would not have shot your partner otherwise."

Darcy's brow creased.

"Come now, Darcy.  They realize how important Agent Bennet is to you."

Darcy was startled by the man's insight into a subject Darcy himself had only recently begun to recognize.  He was relieved to find Fitzwilliam was speaking of something else. 

"Bennet represents your one chance of convincing the world of not only the existence of aliens, but also their regular visits and," Fitzwilliam glanced at a picture of Georgiana which sat on the end table, "occasional abductions.  With her training and expertise, she will ground your findings in scientific fact."

"What do you know about George Wickham?" Darcy asked.

Fitzwilliam cocked his head to one side and answered, "Your mentor?  I know of his dealings with terrorist groups.  Why?  Surely you know more about him than I ever could."

"Bennet saw him last night before I met her in Hunsford.  She said he told her how I had wronged him, and that the P Files were works of fiction that he had created.  That's all.  Is he connected to the Syndicate in any way? Could she have said anything that would threaten him?"

Fitzwilliam looked thoughtful as if weighing a decision.  Darcy sat quietly watching the man.  He obviously possessed some knowledge of the situation, but was trying to decide how much--if anything--to tell.  After a minute or so, Fitzwilliam nodded his head, having made his decision. 

"Yes, he is involved.  He was recruited some time ago.  As far as his conversation with Agent Bennet though, I believe you should look to her for that answer."

"And that is all of an explanation I am to receive?" Darcy asked, an eyebrow cocked sharply over his head.

"That is all of an explanation I am able to give at this time," Fitzwilliam returned.  "My only advice to you Darcy is to look after your partner and trust no one."  He left the room before Darcy could pry any more information from him. 

'Damn the man,' Darcy thought as soon as he realized he was alone once more.  'He leaves me with more questions than answers.'

"How are you involved in this, Wickham?" he asked the empty room.  "And what lies did you tell her?"  Darcy thought back to the incident before the shooting and Bennet's words rang through his head with the same vehemence as before.

"'I thought I understood you, but now I'm beginning to believe that you are completely lost.  He told me he CREATED the P Files so that you would come to your senses and return to more mainstream work.  Darcy, why can't you just accept the fact that aliens DON'T exist?'"

His face was etched with pain as her scathing words lashed out from his memory.  "'We both know that your grand search for aliens and paranormal activity is only a feeble attempt to find a sister who is probably long dead!'" 

Darcy clenched his hands into fists and blew out the breath he had been unconsciously holding.  "She must understand what really happened." He grabbed a pen and sheaf of paper from a drawer and sat down to compose his rebuttal. 
 
 

Chapter 8
 
 

FBI Headquarters 
Washington, D.C.

Darcy had been summoned to Assistant Director Gardiner's office soon after he arrived at work.  He tapped lightly on the door and, upon hearing a well-modulated, "Come in," entered Gardiner's inner sanctum.

"Agent Darcy, good, have a seat.  How is Agent Bennet doing?"

"When I called this morning, the doctor said she was doing better, but she'll need another operation on her shoulder."

Gardiner nodded his head.  "And after that, rehab no doubt.  In short, she will be off duty for at least two weeks. Until she returns, I'm assigning you a new partner."  Upon seeing Darcy's irritation, Gardiner placated, "Its only temporary."

"So, I still need a baby sitter?  Really, sir, I thought I was old enough to stay at home by myself," Darcy replied sardonically.

Gardiner ignored his subordinate's remark thinking, 'He's taking Bennet's injury harder than I thought he would.'  He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number.  "Send him in now," he directed the person who obviously answered. A door, opposite the one Darcy entered, opened.  If Darcy was curious as to what lay behind the before unnoticed portal, he did not show it.  A youngish man with light brown hair which fell limply against his forehead entered.  His face was jowly and, upon closer inspection, his hair looked like it hadn't been washed in some time.

"Oh, Assistant Director Gardiner!  How wonderful it is to see you today. You are looking well."

Gardiner ignored the man's flattery and said, "Have a seat.  Darcy, this is Agent William Collins.  Collins, Fitz Darcy."

Darcy nodded his head in greeting while Collins offered his profuse honor at being selected as THE Fitz Darcy's partner.

"Let me remind you, Collins," Gardiner interrupted.  "This is only temporary.  You will be reassigned once Agent Bennet returns to active duty."

"I understand perfectly, sir.  I only hope I can learn all that my esteemed colleague has to teach me in--we all hope--the short duration."

'Yes, please, very short,' Darcy thought to himself.

"That will be all," Gardiner dismissed, "And, Darcy, please keep me posted on Bennet's condition."

"Yes, sir," the younger man replied as he rose and quit the room, Collins trailing in his wake.

Once the pair were in the hallway, Collins eagerly asked, "What is our first assignment?"

Darcy stifled a sigh and answered, "I want to return to Netherfield, Maine, and complete the investigation that Bennet and I started as well as pick up our luggage from the inn where we stayed."

"It sounds intriguing!  Will you brief me now, or should we wait until we are on the plane?"

Darcy could tell that this partnership would be trying in the worst sense of the word.  'God, I miss you, Bennet,' he thought wistfully as he looked at Collins.  'Not only were you easy on the eyes, you actually could form coherent thoughts--as well as arguments.'  As Collins jabbered on, Darcy stifled another sigh and willed himself to be patient.

"When do we leave, Darcy?" Collins asked as they entered the basement office.

"The tickets are waiting at the gate, but I have something I need to do before we leave, so I'll have to meet you there."

"Can't I go with you?  After all, I want to learn everything there is to know about the paranormal world."

"No, this is personal."

*      *     *

Mercy Hospital 
Georgetown

Bennet tentatively walked up the hallway outside her room.  It had been over a day since the first of her surgeries and her doctor wanted her up and walking for some gentle exercise.  As she passed her room, she thought to herself, 'One more lap around this wing, and then I'll lay down.'  She was pleasantly surprised at how well her body was recovering from its injuries.  Bennet chalked it up to her daily exercise regimen of running and the occasional weight lifting. 

She met another patient as he too was walking the length of the hall.  She gave the older man a warm smile which died when her eyes spied a familiar outline further up the hall.  Knowing she was being a coward, she turned around to try and avoid him.  He saw her, however, and approached directly.

The unease between the two was palpable as each tried to find something else to look at beside the other.  Darcy, suddenly remembering the papers in his grip, cleared his throat and asked, "Will you do me a favor and read this?"

Bennet looked at him carefully before taking the proffered note.  He looked as if he wanted to say more, but held his tongue.  He gave her one last searching gaze before retreating to the elevator.   She glanced from the letter to his shuttered face as the elevator doors closed in front of him. Her gaze lingered on the spot he had most recently occupied.  Then with a heartfelt sigh, she carefully returned to her room.

A nurse had followed her to insure that she was comfortably resettled in her bed.  Soon her pillows had been adjusted to allow her to sit in a semi-up right position.  The nurse left saying, "I'll come back in a little while with your medication."

Bennet nodded and opened the folded pages.  She read:

To Elizabeth Bennet,

Please do not be alarmed that on receiving this letter I am in any way   entreating your continued aid in the search for my sister.  I fully understand your opinion and respect it.  However, I must endeavor to answer the charges you laid before me. The first is that I futily use the P Files to search for my sister and the second, that I willfully deserted George Wickham and almost caused his death.  As to the first charge I must openly admit that I am guilty.  I do not delude myself into thinking that every case holds the key to my sister's disappearance.  I do believe, though, that somewhere in the P Files there is an answer.  Therefore, I must, if only to preserve my sanity, carefully and fully investigate each case. 

With respect to the more weighty accusation, that I willfully disobeyed George Wickham and almost caused his death, I can only refute your arguments by laying before you my whole connection to him.  Of what he particularly told you, I have  little knowledge.  I only know that his words fostered an intense distrust of me which you previously did not possess.  I can only offer you the truth as to our work history. 

I began my career in the FBI in the domestic terrorism department.  George Wickham was my boss and, for a time, my mentor.  He had been a great friend of my father's and I had much respect for him.  I had worked for him for almost two years when he came to me asking for my help with a case he had been assigned.  He asked me to research the national policy and any top secret actions we  had concerning Iraq.  At that point, I was not overly concerned.  My concern escalated when I found several files outlining Wickham's role in this investigation.  Apparently he was operating under cover in an effort to stop a group of domestic terrorists who had ties to the Iraqi government.  I later found that this group was paying him for the classified information that I was researching.  I confronted him with my evidence and accused him of treason.  He did not challenge the accusation, instead he offered me a stake in the operation if I would keep the evidence a secret.  I flatly denied and would have gone to his superiors with this information had he not blackmailed me with details  about my sister's whereabouts.  As you know, I was, and still am, desperate to  find her and so I acquiesced.  It was some time before I realized that he was not going to give me the information I needed.  Instead he led me to the P Files.  He hinted that the events concerning my sister's abduction were located in there.  I wished rather than believed him to be sincere and so began a thorough search of the files.  Having completely read them, I recognized that various cases reflected circumstances similar to Georgiana's. 

I did and have not exposed George Wickham for the traitor that he is because I have been unwilling to put my family through the embarrassment and pain of a rehash of my sister's disappearance.  It is less painful for me to continue my  search in secret from my family, a secret which Wickham would no doubt expose.  I made the mistake at one point of trusting someone with the details of my search.  Soon, my words and his suppositions floated around the Academy and I became known as "Creepy" Darcy.  To my knowledge, my family knows nothing of my search and I intend to maintain their ignorance until I can bring Georgiana home. 

This, is a faithful and accurate account of my dealings with George Wickham.  For the truth of it, you may appeal to Assistant Director Gardiner, who knows every particular.  Indeed, since my days at the Academy, it is he who has been the true mentor of my work.  If, for any reason, you do not believe my words,  apply to Gardiner.  I shall try to give you this letter before I leave for Netherfield.  I will only add my best wishes and hope for your steady improvement.

Fitzwilliam Darcy
 

As Bennet read Darcy's last words, she allowed the note to fall from her fingers onto the blanket.  Her thoughts unable to comprehend the ironic twist that had just occurred.  Wickham, who spoke with convincing believability, was in fact lying, while Darcy, whose beliefs bordered on the incredulous, had been telling the truth.  She leaned her head back on the pillow, astonished, and gazed unseeing at the ceiling.  The opinions that she thought were so carefully formed were wrong.  She shook her head. Bennet admitted that she had made mistakes before,  however, her assessment of people had always been accurate.  She couldn't remember a time when she had so badly misjudged two individuals. 

'Has my arrogance at my ability to judge people blinded me?  When did I start to believe only what sounded true in my own ears?'  A small tear of shame trickled down her cheek as she stared out the window.  'Until this moment it's almost as if I never knew myself.  Papa, what has happened to me?'

Her thoughts were a jumble when the nurse returned.  Bennet surreptitiously swept away the tear.  The nurse handed her a small cup of water and her two pain pills.  "Are you alright, Miss Bennet?" she asked, her concern evident on her face. 

Bennet took a breath, swallowed her medication, and replied, "I just need some rest, I believe I walked too far today."

"Well, then," the nurse patted her patient's arm, "these will help you sleep.  Remember, take it easy, we don't want any set backs."

Bennet nodded and the nurse quit the room.  She closed her eyes and let the pain of her own disappointment wash over her.
 
 
 

Chapter 9
 

Jack Miller's residence 
Longbourne, Maine

Jack opened the door of his modest home and greeted the two men in dark suits.  "May I help you?"

"Jack, its Agent Darcy of the FBI?" Darcy flashed his badge.  "I was here a few days ago about the photographs you had taken?"

The young man stared blankly at Darcy and replied, "I don't remember taking any pictures."

"I'm sorry, you said your friend, Mike Kampher, had actually made the photos," the agent qualified.  Collins looked curiously at Darcy.

"Sorry, sir, but I've never seen you before.  Are you sure you've got the right house?"

Darcy's brow furrowed in consternation.  He tried another tack.  Surely Robbie would remember his previous visit.  "How is your little brother?  Is he at home?"

"No, he's away at camp.  He's been there for three weeks.  Look, mister, I'm sorry I can't help you."  Jack closed the door on the agents.

Collins glanced at Darcy and asked, "What's going on here?  Are you sure this was the man you questioned earlier?"

"Positive," his partner replied his face a mixture of puzzlement and disbelief.   Collins left the porch and returned to the car.  Darcy pulled out his cell phone and slowly followed him.  He stopped at the gate after he dialed the number. Bennet heard a faint ringing and she lifted her sleep-filled head to locate the noise.  She got out of bed and moved toward the sound which was coming from the closet.  When she realized it was her cell phone in her trench coat, she scrambled to answer it.  Secretly hoping she knew who was on the other end of the line.

"Bennet," she greeted as she picked it up on the sixth ring.

"Hi, did I wake you?"

Her heart soared with gladness as she recognized the deep voice.  'He doesn't hate me,' she thought in a rush.  "Not really."

"Jack Miller recanted his statement," Darcy replied tersely.  "Actually, no that's wrong.  He didn't even recognize me and told me that he didn't know anything about a set of pictures."

Bennet's brow furrowed with disbelief, "Someone got to him."

Darcy nodded.  "They're covering it up."

"What about his little brother?  Surely he remembered you."

"Jack claimed he was at camp and had been there for some time."

Collins rapped on the hood of the car, attempting to garner his partner's attention.  Darcy turned back to him and acknowledged, "I'll be right there, Collins."

"Where are you going?" Bennet asked, moving the phone closer to her ear. 

"We're going back to the Air Force base to see if Jenkinson will tell us anything."

"Sounds like your new partner is working out."

"Well," Darcy smiled.  "He could use a little more seasoning and some wardrobe advice, but he's a lot more open to extreme possibilities than--"

Bennet closed her eyes at the unintended barb and interrupted softly, "Than I was?"

"Than I assumed you would be," Darcy soothed. 

She smiled sadly, "Must be nice not having someone questioning your every move...poking holes in all your theories..."

"Oh, yeah, its great," Darcy answered with forced enthusiasm, then he paused.  The silence lengthened.  "Bennet, about the letter..."

"I believe you," she quickly responded, desperate to ease his worries.

Darcy closed his eyes and took a breath.  'Thank God.'  The silence stretched, the sound of their breathing their only connection.

'I miss you,' Bennet thought as she blinked back the tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.  Tears of remorse, tears of guilt. 

'I miss you,' thought Darcy as he pressed his phone closer trying to shorten the distance that separated them. 

At length, Bennet swallowed, wiped her eyes, and forced a smile, "You'd better go."

"Yeah," Darcy replied so softly she barely heard him.  He closed his phone and slowly made his way to the car.

Bennet left her phone open until the nasal tones of the operator beckoned her to hang up.  She held it in her hand and clutched his letter to her chest.  A soft, grateful smile overcame her face as she murmured, "He doesn't hate me."

*     *     *

Mercy Hospital 
Georgetown

 Some time later, after the orderly had taken away her dinner tray, Bennet picked up a book that her mother and sister had brought during their visit earlier in the day.  Lydia had scoffed at the idea of reading when so many cute doctors and orderlies haunted the halls of the hospital, but her sister had been adamant about needing something besides television and flirting to occupy her time. 

Bennet nestled in her bed and flipped to the chapter she had stopped at a few nights ago, before the trip to Maine.  As she perused the pages, she once again became lost in the twists and turns found in Katherine Neville's "The Eight."  She was so engrossed that she did not hear the door to her room open.  Nor did she realize she had a visitor until the sickly, musty smell of a cigarette wafted to her nose. She glanced up to see George Wickham standing at the foot of the bed. 

"Good evening, Agent Bennet.  How are you feeling?"

Puzzled by his appearance, she replied, "I'm doing much better.  Thank you for asking."

Wickham inhaled on his cigarette and asked, "I understand Agent Darcy is in possession of a new partner."

"Only until I have recovered enough to be place back on active duty."

Wickham cocked an eyebrow and queried, "William Collins is his current partner I believe?  He seems eager to please as well as ambitious.  His manners are very different from Darcy's."

Bennet smiled, thinking of Darcy's description of Collins and replied, "Yes, very different.  But I do think that Darcy improves upon acquaintance."

"Indeed," Wickham remarked with some surprise.  "Is it in his discourse that he has improved?  Has his sarcastic and proud bearing softened?  For I dare not think he has improved in essentials."

"Oh, no," replied Bennet.  "In essentials, I believe he is very much as he always was."  She paused and carefully glanced over Wickham's now shuttered countenance before continuing.  "When I said he improved upon acquaintance, I did not mean that either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement, but from knowing him better, I more fully understood and appreciated his character."

"Then, I fear I must now retract my earlier cautions," Wickham replied, his eyes narrowed with close regard of the woman before him.  He slowly nodded as if considering and then approving a silent decision.  Bennet felt a chill skitter down her spine as Wickham continued to fix her with his judging eyes.

After a long moment, someone rapped lightly on the door.  A nurse soon entered with Bennet's medication and a cup of water on a silver tray.  Upon seeing the lit cigarette clutched between Wickham's fingers, she asserted, "Excuse me, sir, but there is no smoking allowed in the hospital.  You will have to put that out."

Wickham rose, gave a nod to Bennet, and crushed the butt of the cigarette onto the tray.  He ignored the nurse's sputtering and silently walked out of the room.

*      *     *

Mountain Inn and Getaway 
Longbourne, Maine

The two agents booked rooms for the night and settled in before visiting Lt. Jenkinson at the Air Force base.  Upon booking the rooms, Darcy called the Hunsford police department to check their progress on the search for Bennet's attacker.  He spoke to the officer in charge of the investigation and found that no new information was available.  No bullet shells had been found around the crime scene, nor was there any trace of the attacker's trail through the park beside the apartment complex.  The officer had assured Darcy of the department's continued attention to the case, but had also reluctantly added his opinion that finding any potential solution was virtually hopeless.

After he hung up the phone, Darcy left his room and went to knock on the door to Collins'.  Collins answered promptly and simpered, "Darcy, I took the liberty of searching Agent Bennet's former room and found nothing there.  And might I say that you are looking more refreshed.  It must be this wonderful New England air.  It has done wonders for your complexion."

Darcy nodded and interrupted, "Collins, I want you to go to the base and talk to Jenkinson.  I don't have a good history with her and she probably won't relay any information to me.  However, with your, um," he did not want to say 'obsequious,' "easy manner, she may be more comfortable with you.  Also, it would help if you would talk to all the officers who were on duty the night Jack Miller saw the UFO.  She may not be able to keep everyone silent."

"Oh, wonderful!  I won't let you down."  With that, Collins scurried out to the car and eagerly drove to the Air Force base. 

Darcy sighed with relief.  'Good,' he thought.  'That will keep him busy for a while.'  He returned to his room and dialed the car rental company.

A short time later he sped down Highway 95 en route to the FBI lab in Hunsford.  He completed the trip in just under two hours and sprinted into the lab in search of the lab tech Bennet had spent the afternoon with only two days ago.   A helpful older woman in a lab coat directed him to the man working in the glass encased room. 

 He knocked lightly on the window before being beckoned to enter.  "I'm Agent Darcy.  My partner, Agent Bennet, was here a couple of days ago with a video tape and pictures to be authenticated?"

"Oh, yes, I remember.  She left the negatives and the tape here for safe keeping.  If you can wait a moment, I'll go get them."

Darcy nodded and paced near the door.  At length, the lab tech finished with his specimen and left the room.  He returned a few moments later with a confused look on his face. 

"I'm sorry, Agent Darcy, but I don't have the evidence.  I put it in the storage room, which is always locked, after Agent Bennet left, but its not there now."

"When did you last see it?" Darcy asked with a sinking feeling.

"To own the truth, I haven't paid much attention to it since I put it there.  Two rush jobs came in and they consumed my time and attention."

"Do you mind if I take a look around?" 

"Not at all, it's this way."

Darcy followed the man into the back room and cautiously looked for signs of forced entry.  He ran his hands along the door jamb as well as the door knob.  He blew out an impatient breath.  Already suspecting the answer, Darcy asked the man, "Who has access to this room?"

"Just myself."

Darcy grimaced and muttered, "That's what I was afraid of.  Damn."  The evidence was gone, taken, no doubt, by the same person who shot Bennet.  A person who was desperate to keep the truth secret.  Darcy's brain suddenly focused as he realized that not all of the evidence had been locked in that room.  "Thanks for your time," he called as he quickly walked out the door.

Once outside, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a now memorized number.  "Bennet," he said tersely into the phone.  "Where did they put your personal items when you were admitted?"

"The film?" she asked, reading his mind.

"Yes.  Everything else is gone."

"Normally hospitals lock personal items in their safes, but that's usually only for money and jewelry.  Let me check my coat because they left my phone in it."  She laid the phone down on the table next to her bed.

Darcy heard the bed squeak as she rose and moved to the closet.  He cursed himself.  Not only for his stupidity, but also for bothering his partner when she desperately needed time to recuperate.  "Bennet?" he prodded, wanting to tell her not to worry and that he would check on it later.

"It's not here, Darcy," she replied once she returned to the phone.  "I'll check with my nurse and get back with you."  She paused as she moved back to sit on the bed.  "Wickham came to see me earlier.  He knows that I believe you.  Darcy, please, be careful.  He's involved in this somehow."

"I know," Darcy replied drawing in a breath, then slowly letting it out. "You sound tired.  His visit shook you up, huh?"

"A little, it's mainly the medication I'm on."

"Don't worry about the film, just get some sleep.  I'll check on it later." He clicked his phone shut and walked out of the building to return to Longbourne.

*     *     *

Mountain Inn and Getaway 
Longbourne, Maine

 Collins, sat, cooling his heels, in a rocking chair outside the office of the inn.  His irritation at Darcy steadily growing.  When he saw his partner drive in the parking lot, Collins stood and made his way toward the vehicle.

"I went to the base," he stated as Darcy stepped out of the car.  "They were all out on maneuvers."  He sighed.  "Look, I don't appreciate being sent on a wild goose chase."

"Sorry if I hurt your feelings," Darcy replied, brushing past him as he headed toward his room.

"Where do you get off copping this attitude?  You don't know the first thing about me!"

"Exactly." Darcy fixed him with a piercing glare.  "Get your things, we're going back to D.C."

Collins' gaze followed Darcy as the man stalked into the room.  A small satisfied smile quirked and then disappeared from Collins' face.  He returned to his room to retrieve his bags.
 
 

Chapter 10
 

Delta Flight 294 
en route to Washington, D.C.

"Darcy, I want you to know that you can trust me," Collins stated as his partner settled into the window seat.  "Where did you go this afternoon? What is it you're keeping from me?"

The cabin of the plane was darkened allowing the passengers to sleep if they chose.  Darcy remained silent as he gazed out the window, searching the night sky.  It was nearly two in the morning and every star seemed to be blazing. "I believe you, you know," Collins tried again.  "Your search for alien life.  I truly do want to help you cause, but I can't if you won't tell me what you went searching for."

"Its nothing," Darcy dismissed.  "At least, it is now."

*      *      *

FBI Headquarters 
Washington, D.C.

Later that morning, Darcy entered Gardiner's office to brief the Assistant Director on the results of the case as well as the search for Bennet's attacker. "In short, sir, the police department isn't holding out much hope of catching the shooter.  The officer in charge said that the area had been wiped clean and no tracks were found leading from the site.

"As to the case, all the evidence is missing, including that from the lab in Hunsford, and all eyewitnesses are recanting their statements.   The hospital has no recollection of a roll of film on Bennet's person when she was admitted." Gardiner nodded his head.  "Well, on the bright side, Agent Bennet is being released today.  Apparantly her shoulder has mended well enough for her to go home."

"That is good news.  I'll stop by and see her later," Darcy paused, considering his next words. 

"Sir, what do you know about Agent Collins?"

Gardiner looked blankly at his subordinate and stated, "Collins?  He excelled in his classes at the Academy.  Although a little obsequious, he seems to be an upstanding agent.  Why?"

"Just curious," Darcy replied, standing and moving to the door.  "Thank you for your time sir."

He left Gardiner staring thoughtfully out his office window while slowly tapping a pen on the desk.

*     *     *

Bennet's apartment 
Georgetown

Bennet's mother closed the door to her apartment as the agent slowly made her way to a couch in the living room.  Fanny Bennet fussed over her daughter until Bennet diverted her attention.  "Mama, I'm a little hungry, would you mind making me something to eat?"

"Oh, that horrible hospital!" Fanny cried as she scurried into the kitchen. "You give them all this money to stay a few nights and they don't even feed you!"

Bennet did not contradict her mother.  Instead she chose to ignore the remark and to allow her mother to prattle on about the evils of the health care industry.  Lydia entered the room, paused at the door, and posed in a perfect pout. 

"Mama, why does Lizzy get all the attention?  I'm the one who has a date tonight and nothing to wear!"

"Hold your tongue, girl!" Mrs. Bennet admonished.  "Lizzy just got home from the hospital!  There is still plenty of time to shop for a suitable outfit."

Lydia flounced in and draped herself in a nearby chair.  "Lord, I'm so hungry!  What are you fixing, Mama?"

Bennet rolled her eyes, fully expecting the usual argument to spark, but was somewhat surprised when it did not.  Lydia's face suddenly lit up with admiration and she straightened herself in the chair.  Bennet, whose back was to the door, could not see the object of her sister's gaze and so contented herself with her mother's greeting.

"Oh, Sir!  How do you do today?  Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'm Fitz Darcy," the man replied nervously.  "I came to check on--Elizabeth."

"So, you are my darling Lizzy's partner!  Oh, Lizzy, you never told me how handsome your partner is!"

Upon feeling her sister's murderous gaze, Bennet gathered Lydia's reaction was much the same.  Slowly she turned her head to see Darcy standing in the doorway.  She smiled and gestured for him to come in.

"Hi.  Have a seat."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting."

"Nonsense," cried Mrs. Bennet from the kitchen.  "You of course wish to see how your partner is doing.  Would you like something to drink--or perhaps some lunch?  I'm fixing Lizzy some food and you're more than welcome."

"No, I thank you, but I can't stay long."  He took a seat next to Bennet on the couch. 

Bennet smiled warmly and introduced, "Darcy, this is my sister Lydia." When he moved his gaze to her younger sister, Lydia batted her eyelashes and offered a brilliant smile.  He nodded once in greeting then turned his attention back to his partner. 

"I just wanted to see how you're feeling and to return this to you."  He opened his right hand to reveal Bennet's small ruby cross.  Her hand immediately flew to her neck and, after futilely searching for the missing necklace, she raised her questioning eyes to his.  "The nurse in the Longbourne hospital found it loose in your blouse.  Apparantly the chain broke when you fell.  Since it was so small, she worried about it being lost on the way to Mercy and gave it to me for safekeeping."

Bennet's fingers trembled as she reached for the cross.  She touched it lightly, then nestled her hand in his.  She looked up at him, her eyes shining, and replied, "Thank you."

He gently squeezed her hand before she withdrew it to retrieve her necklace.  Darcy chastely kissed her cheek, fully aware of Lydia's wide, assessing gaze, before rising. Bennet, understanding his reluctance to intrude on a family gathering, smiled and said, "I call you later so we can talk." He nodded and left the room.

"Lizzy!  How COULD you!" Lydia cried after the door had softly closed behind him.

Bennet sighed and braced herself for the onslaught of questions and accusations. "How could I what, Lyddie?"

"How could you not tell me he so was so gorgeous?  Here I was going after some poor medical student when all along the man of my dreams was right under my nose!"

"Lyddie," Bennet warned.  "Darcy is my partner.  I would thank you to remember that. Especially since I'm the one who has to work with him after you tire of your pursuit."

Lydia pouted, "He didn't seem like too much of a partner to me.  He's pretty gone on you.  And knowing you, you don't even see it!  Oh, Mama," she wailed.  "Why does Lizzy always get the good ones?"

Bennet blushed upon hearing her sister's assessment of her partner's feelings.  "He's just overly concerned.  After all, I was shot right in front of him." Lydia's bright gaze zeroed in on Bennet's flush and she quoted triumphantly, "'Methinks the lady doth protest too much!'"

Wisely, Bennet averted her gaze and changed the subject to Lydia's impending date.  She heaved a sigh of relief when she realized she had successfully diverted her sister's attentions. 'After all,' Bennet thought forcefully, 'not everything in the world can be attributed to love.'

*      *     *

FBI Headquarters 
Washington, D.C.

 Darcy returned to his office in search of Collins.  His temporary partner had yet to tell him anything about his meeting with Jenkinson aside from the fact that her men had been on maneuvers.  He went to the common offices for the new recruits, and upon finding the desk empty of more than just Collins, he asked another agent about the man's whereabouts.

"Sorry, haven't seen him today.  I don't think he came in," the agent replied before walking to another desk. 

Darcy's brow furrowed and he picked up the desk phone to call Gardiner. The Assistant Director answered on the second ring.  He affirmed Collins' absence and gave Darcy the man's address.  Darcy returned the phone to its hook and rummage through the now vacant desk, searching for some sort of clue as to the man's location.  No papers remained, even the waste basket was empty.    Darcy's cell phone rang.  He pulled it from his pocket and answered. 

"Its me.  What have you found out?" Bennet queried from the other end.

"Well aside from the fact that neither hospital remembers seeing a roll of film in your belongings, not much.  The police in Hunsford have nothing and it seems that my temporary partner has now become my absentee partner."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't show up for work today and his desk is cleared out.  I'm going over to his apartment to see if overslept, but for some reason, I don't think that's reason he's not here."

"I want to come with you." 

"Bennet, you just got home," he protested.

"Come and pick me up before you go," her tone brooked no argument and Darcy reluctantly assented. 

*     *     *

Collins' apartment 
Washington, D.C.

Darcy and Bennet exited the elevator on the fourth floor of the apartment complex, and turned left to walk down the hallway to Collins' flat. Bennet, whose arm was secured in a sling, had draped her suit jacket over her shoulders.  Darcy surreptitiously watched her for any sign of weakening.

As they approached, Darcy noticed that the door was slightly ajar.  He motioned for her to stay back and drew his gun.  He lightly pushed the door and stepped inside.  The room was empty except for old furniture that was drunkenly positioned around the perimeter.  No personal items decorated the area.  He holstered his weapon and called for Bennet.  Darcy moved about the rooms and found nothing that indicated Collins had ever been there.  He picked up the phone and found no answering dial tone; it had been disconnected.

"Darcy," Bennet called from the living area.  When he returned, she asked, indicating a full ashtray sitting on an end table, "Does Collins smoke?" 

He looked from the dish to Bennet, "No."

"Wickham," the surmised together. Bennet picked up a cigarette butt and confirmed the brand was his while Darcy searched the kitchen area. 

"Don't bother," remarked an elegant voice.  "He's long gone."

Darcy turned to see Fitzwilliam standing in the doorway.  Bennet dropped the spent cigarette back into the tray and gazed at the new arrival.

Fitzwilliam inclined his head toward her, "My compliments, Agent Bennet, on your quick recovery." 

"Was Collins the shooter?" Darcy asked flatly.

The informant nodded his head and replied, "Although you'll find no evidence to support it."

"Why?" Bennet asked softly.

"As I previously informed your partner, you were closing in on the truth. The two of you were too dangerous as a team; therefore, you had to be separated.  What better way than for you to be shot and then be convinced that Darcy pulled the trigger?"

"Who set it up?" Darcy asked.

"I don't know, but there's nothing for you here.  Walk away, both of you, while you still can," Fitzwilliam cautioned before he disappeared from the room. 

Bennet looked intently at her partner and stated, "I'm not giving up, Darcy.  Not until we find whoever is pulling our strings."

*      *     *

Rosings Country Club 
Kent, Massachusetts

The small private room was luxuriously decorated.  The walnut paneled walls gleamed.  A silver tea service sat in the middle of the long table.  At the far end, cigarette smoke billowed from the shadow which engulfed two figures.   "Do you know where he got this?" Wickham asked, indicating the role of film which rested in front of him.

The man standing at the opposite end of the table replied, "Not yet, but he got it."  Collins chose his next words carefully.  "This means he's either found a source, or a source has found him."

Wickham leaned over to a woman on his right and whispered something too quietly for Collins to hear.  "Sir," Collins continued, "if I could recommend something, you'll see I've outlined several countermeasures."

Wickham ignored the man's statement and asked, "What about Bennet?" 

Another figure stepped from the shadows and replied, "Shooting her seems only to have strengthened their determination."  Light softly illuminated Fitzwilliam's features as he continued, "Bennet's a problem. A much larger problem than you described."

"Yes, I must admit that I underestimated her," Wickham replied, taking a draw from his cigarette. 

"Well, gentlemen, every problem has a solution," stated the woman as she rose to pour herself a cup of tea.