11x06 - Kitten

[bunniefuu]

For the next few hours, this crate is all that matters.

Protect it like your Mama's in it.

Clear? Yes, sir!

Do not drop it, do not scratch it, do not peek inside of it.

And for God's sakes, you do not lose sight of it.

Is that clear? Yes, sir!

Quon will guide you to a site east of Hill 862... where you're gonna deliver this crate to Bravo Company.

Is that clear? Yes, sir!

Three o'clock. Three o'clock.

Rendezvous back at the drop site at approximately 1900 hours.

Is that clear?

Now! Let's go! Go! Go! Go!

You all right, John? I'm scared as hell, man!

Dude, look at me. Look at me. Everybody's scared.

I got your back, and you got mine, okay? Okay. Okay.

We go.

There's a village in there. Go.

Damn!

Go! Go!

Quon! What are you doing?

He's been hit! I gotta go help him! No, we gotta stay with the crate!

Please.

Stay put.

Quon.

John.

John.

John, where are you?

John?

John?

Monsters.

John...

John. John, it's me.

John, it's me. It's Skinner!

Deputy Director Kersh.

I'm gonna ask you once and only once.

Where is he?

Sir, of whom are we speaking? Cut the crap, agents.

Have you ever wondered why... after 35 years in the Bureau...

Walter Skinner isn't sitting on this side of the desk... or even perhaps running this whole damn agency, for that matter?

Are you looking for Skinner?

Let me be unambiguous... in the event that there are any questions about this in your conspiracy-addled minds.

Walter Skinner's stalled career... has everything to do with his blind loyalty to the both of you... and your misguided search for some imaginary truth.

Sir, what is this about?

Skinner's gone AWOL, Agent Mulder, without warning or explanation.

And, frankly, I don't buy your naiveté, not even for a moment.

He hasn't been the same since the two of you returned to the Bureau.

Sir, has anyone checked his apartment? Could he have had a medical emergency?

The director's asking questions about Skinner's activities that I can't answer.

There's some implication that he recently started poking around... in places he shouldn't be poking.

What sort of places?

I couldn't say. But if you truly care about his future in the FBI...

I suggest you bring him back here while he still has a future to return to.

What happened to the old reliable Skinner we knew and loved?

Well, based on his behavior the past couple months... it's safe to say the old Skinner has left the building.

Mulder, do you think his disappearance actually has to do with us?

Or something to do with William or that business with the Purlieu Services?

There's no way of telling what Skinner's been up to recently.

But I'll keep my eyes peeled for cigarette butts.

Maybe he's out meeting with an interior decorator.

No, I noticed this the last time that we were here.

There are no personal items.

No mementos, no knickknacks... no family photographs.

It occurs to me that even after all these years... we know precious little about Walter Sergei Skinner beyond the professional.

It appears he may suffer from moderate to severe constipation.

I'm sorry to be a wimp, Mulder, but this just feels wrong.

This feels like a real invasion of his privacy.

Well, it's not like Skinner to just disappear without telling anyone. You know?

As much as I don't trust the guy right now... if he's gotten into a dangerous situation, he's gonna forgive us this little trespass.

Look at this, Mulder.

Lance Corporal Walter Skinner.

Third Battalion, Third Marines, United States Marine Corps.

That's a peculiar way to address it.

There's no return address.

Is that a...? Desiccated human ear.

There's a note.

The monsters are here.

Monsters, Mulder. Does that get your juices flowing?

As much as I appreciate any reference to my juices, Scully... my only concern here is for Skinner, but now I'm worried about him.

Me too.

The Mud Lick Messenger.

Mud Lick?

Well, this is strange. Based on the way that package was addressed...

I requested some basic information about Skinner and his platoon in Vietnam... like names of his fellow Marines, et cetera... and I've just received word that I've been denied access by the Bureau.

That the information is classified top secret.

Well, the sheriff here in Mud Lick says he's got a body in the morgue minus an ear.

I'll bet you that that victim turns out to be one of Skinner's platoon mates... from that classified list.

You ain't gonna find no kitten.

What? Ain't no kitten out there.

No. All right.

Doctor Matthew Wegweiser. The victim was a medical doctor?

That's correct, ma'am. Doc Wegweiser is... was our one and only town doctor.

Terrific guy. Beloved.

Went out for a hike Thursday last, never to return.

Mrs. Wegweiser told us he hiked the same route several times a week.

We found him on the trail, got himself snared in some kind of hunting trap.

A hunting trap? How do you account for the severed ear?

Well, I can't, honestly. And the missing teeth?

Missing teeth? The autopsy says that he was missing... several upper and lower molars and a couple of bicuspids.

But there's no evidence of advanced tooth decay or periodontitis.

No evidence of manual extraction.

That mean something to you?

It's funny because I just happened to have lost two teeth in the past month myself.

And my wife lost one yesterday. We were puzzling over it at breakfast.

The autopsy also says that there were wood splinters inside the wound.

This hunting trap, did it have some kind of a spear or stake element?

Yes, ma'am. It was a primitive whip trap.

It's a bent piece of bamboo held by a trip wire.

There's a sharpened spear attached at the end.

It's a punji stick. Pardon?

It's a simple spear made of wood or bamboo.

It was used in Vietnam in any one of a number of insidious traps or weapons.

Was Dr. Wegweiser here by any chance a Vietnam vet?

I don't believe he was, no.

Are there any other Vietnam vets in town that you know of?

Oh, sure. Yeah, there's an institution outside of town called Glazebrook.

Lot of guys were sent up there after the w*r. Lot of them stuck around when they got out.

I think we passed one on our way in. Old Trigger Davis. He's harmless.

Trigger?

Is Glazebrook a mental hospital? Right, ma'am, a government-run facility.

I'd like to see a list of past and current patients. Do you have access to that?

Probably not. They run a tight ship up there.

But I'll see what I can drum up. Thank you, sheriff.

Anything to dispel the craziness everyone in town is buzzing about.

What kind of craziness is that?

People are swearing they seen some kind of monster out in the woods.

Pippet?

Pippet?

Pippet. What is it, girl?

What is it?

Tell them what you told me, Ed.

Well, Banjo called me up and said he saw a damn monster out here in his woods... and could I come with him and look around.

We was having that look around when he just straight disappeared.

Did you say Banjo?

Ozzy Krager. Friends call him Banjo. This is his property.

Did he describe this monster?

Well, first he thought it was a bear, but then he saw big old horns.

And it was walking on two feet. Same as people in town was talking about.

But Mr. Krager, I mean, Banjo, was he a Vietnam vet?

Yeah, he was.

This may seem like an odd question, but was he missing any teeth?

Yeah, he was.

He'd just keep losing them, like he's an old man or something.

Well, I can't make much fun of him because I been losing some too.

What's this?

That's, uh, that's one of them deer cams.

Hunters use them for game surveillance.

They send an alert to your phone when they detect movement.

Can we review what's on it?

Should be able to see it on a computer back at the station.

Something about that camera that's troubling you, sir?

Banjo don't have no deer cams.

I mean, at least none that I seen, and I hunt with him, like, every week.

The camera is motion activated... so it shouldn't take terribly long to find what we're looking for.

There.

I don't believe it.

There's our k*ller.

Why do I get the distinct feeling you two know who that man is?

That how it's gonna be?

I've been nothing but courteous to y'all, and I don't appreciate being played a fool.

Excuse me. I gotta go tell my people we found their monster.

Sheriff, that man is our boss.

Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI.

Well, what in the hell was he doing at my crime scene last night?

That's what we're here to find out.

You're telling me you knew that man was here all along?

Walter Skinner didn't do this. He's a good man. He's a smart man.

He's been at the FBI for over 30 years, and this m*rder's sloppy.

I mean, not that he's capable of m*rder.

But if he was, he certainly wouldn't get himself caught on camera at a crime scene.

So tell me, what's your good man doing... standing over a dead body in the woods in the middle of the night?

A body which he neglected to call in to any law enforcement agency... including his own?

Well, I know it looks bad, sheriff, but I assure you, he's not your man.

You can assure me all you want. I'll decide who my man is... when I get a chance to bring him in and have a conversation with him.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go put out an APB for this Walter Skinner.

What are you doing?

There's more on that tape, Scully.

Put down an out all-points bulletin for a Walter Skinner, white male, glasses...

Hurry up. You're gonna get us run out of town.

Armed and dangerous.

What did we just see, Mulder?

We find that monster, we find Skinner.

Tell me you don't think that was some real, actual monster we just saw.

For once, we agree.

Monsters don't dig pits and set traps. That was a man in a mask.

I'm more concerned about Skinner's state of mind right now.

Maybe Skinner's experiencing a delayed form of PTSD from his time in Vietnam.

That's, uh, not without precedent.

And even the shock of receiving that ear in the mail is a pretty plausible trigger.

What? You said trigger.

Trigger. Banjo.

Kitten?

I already told you. Yeah, you said I wouldn't find Kitten.

But is Kitten a person? Is that somebody's nickname?

I told the eagle where to find Kitten's kitten. The eagle.

Is the eagle bald?

Hello?

Anybody here?

So I unload into this ditch, right?

And they're deader than a bag of tent stakes, the whole lot.

And I kneel down next to this little one. He's gotta be no more than 10, 12 years old.

And I'm about to add another little adorable charm to my necklace.

I take out my Ka-Bar...

I slice this little monster's ear off like a hunk of Wisconsin cheddar.

Oh, man, Kitten.

But all of a sudden, he opens his eyes.

Screams like a banshee!

Takes off into the trees, hollering the whole way!

You're bleeding, man.

Dang. That's the third one this week.

Hey, they got a tooth fairy in 'Nam?

Get down!

Speak of the devil.

What are you doing in my house?

John, is that you?

John. I'm not John. I'm Davey.

Davey.

Well, you're John's son.

You're Walter Skinner. That's right.

Father sure talks a lot about you.

Your father and I, we went through a lot together.

Calls you baby k*ller.

Where is your father, Davey?

Father says it's your fault the way our life turned out.

Because of your testimony against him after the w*r...

Father spent 38 years in Glazebrook.

Until I got a letter from him last week, I thought he was dead.

I spent years searching for him after his trial, but they vanished him.

His records were sealed, even from me. Who vanished him?

The same people responsible for turning him from the good man he was into...

Into what?

I only wanna help him.

I'm sorry, I don't believe he wants your help, Walter Skinner.

Father told me all the stories about his time in Vietnam.

There were monsters in that jungle.

Because of his exposure to an experimental weaponized gas...

He wasn't crazy like you said at his court-martial, but no one believed him.

Not even Mother.

No one except me.

Listen, Davey, I know what he saw.

I got a glimpse of it myself, but it wasn't real.

It was the gas using his own fear against him.

Your dad was exposed to a lot more of it than I was, and it changed him.

I watched it happen.

And yet, you said nothing about that gas at his trial?

Did you?

They'd let me visit him sometimes up at Glazebrook.

I had to sign all manner of non-disclosure documents.

Do you realize how painful it was for me... to see my father wasting away at that sanitarium?

They kept him behind glass the whole time. I couldn't even touch him.

I couldn't touch my own father.

How could you let that happen to your friend?

I was forbidden to speak about the gas at his court-martial.

I was following orders, doing what my superiors commanded me to do.

I'm not saying it's right. It's not.

And I have lived with the guilt of that decision every moment since.

I think about him every day.

But you gotta understand, your dad m*rder*d innocent people.

And I know it was because of the gas. I knew who he was before.

But the man it changed him into...

He was dangerous, Davey.

People are getting hurt again, and we can stop it.

But you've got to believe that I am here to help him.

I only wanna make things right.

Please... take me to him, Davey.

Okay.

I'll take you to him.

His name is John "Kitten" James.

He is or was, in fact, a patient at Glazebrook Hospital.

But his m*llitary files, like the other files I've tried to access, are classified.

You think it's true, Scully, what Kersh said? What's that?

That we're the sole reason Skinner's career hasn't advanced in 30-some years?

I hope not.

I'd like to believe that his choice to stay loyal to us was exactly that, a choice.

But if there's one thing I know about Walter Skinner... is he's a man ruled by his moral compass above all else.

There was a time I would have agreed with that unequivocally.

I realize that his conduct has been strange... but don't you think we should give him the benefit of the doubt... after everything we've been through?

I mean, especially in light of what we now understand he may have sacrificed for us.

Let's just hope we find him before somebody else does.

Where are we going, Davey?

It's not far now.

This is what they drove him to. Oh, God. No, John, what have you done?

John.

Now who sees monsters?

Help me! Is somebody out there? Help!

Why?

No!

Can I help you?

Special Agent Mulder. Special Agent Dana Scully.

Are you related to John James? I'm his son, Davey.

We're looking for a man who we believe may be in the area... and may have served with your father in Vietnam. Walter Skinner.

I don't believe I've heard that name before, no.

Is your father home? No, I'm sorry. I haven't a clue where he is.

I haven't seen him in weeks.

Is it okay if we come inside for a brief moment?

We'd like to get some insight on a few things. By all means.

Right this way.

Help!

I've never met real live FBI agents before.

Please.

Father said there's two refuges in life from sorrow... music...

and cats.

But I think cats are creepy.

Can I offer you some tea or something?

No, no, I'm good. No, thank you.

Mr. James, we understand that your father was a patient at Glazebrook?

Yes, uh, that's right. For many years.

And when was he released? He was released one month ago.

On what grounds? Sorry?

Why was he released after he had been confined for so many years?

They determined that he was no longer a danger to himself or anyone else.

Not that he ever was.

Well, I guess he was a thr*at to someone.

Is this your mother?

My mother d*ed many years ago. Father's incarceration was very hard on her.

Do you mind if I ask how she d*ed? Yes.

Mr. James, a minute ago you said that your father was a thr*at to someone.

What did you mean? Father had secrets.

Secrets? About the government.

Father was poisoned by an experimental weaponized gas in Vietnam.

Because of his exposure, they continued to do tests on him... and other soldiers for many years at Glazebrook.

What kind of tests? Chemical and biological.

They were trying to learn how to control human behavior.

Harnessing our fears to manipulate us into v*olence.

Using this weaponized gas?

The gas in the w*r was still in the experimental stage.

And they still haven't perfected it. But after years of testing it and honing it...

They are getting close. To what end?

Imagine the power of a government that could literally control the minds... of millions of its citizens.

Influence every choice and decision they made simply by exposing them to this poison.

You'll have to forgive me, Mr. James, but this sounds like a dystopian novel.

It's happening right now in the United States of America.

Do you honestly believe that after 30 years of research and development... and decades of experimenting on American heroes like my father... they would just be thrown in the trash? Never to be utilized?

Unlikely. The DoD and the CIA have been working on various incarnations... of mind-control projects since the '50s.

Project Bluebird, MK-ULTRA, MK-DELTA.

Well, those programs were supposedly ended in the early 1980s.

Supposedly.

My father believed he was part of the program MK-NAOMI... which was a successor to MK-ULTRA.

We don't know how they're using this chemical now, but we know that they are.

Maybe they're poisoning our water or the food supply.

Maybe they're putting it in those chemtrails behind all those commercial jets... that fly over our country every single day.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, Mr. James.

You drive. What's going on, Mulder?

Let's just get in the car and drive away.

Mulder, you wanna tell me what's going on?

He claims not to know who Skinner is, but in the photo album... there were photos of his dad and Skinner like they were BFFs.

And did you check out that SUV parked beside the cabin?

Yeah, that definitely wasn't his. Skinner could be back there.

Then why the hell are we driving away? Just pull over here.

Get somewhere with cell reception, call the sheriff... and get every available officer down here.

What are you gonna do?

I'm gonna do for Skinner what I'd hope he would do for us.

Mulder.

Help!

Help!

Come on.

Damn it.

Is somebody out there?

Hello?

Mulder? Skinner.

Get me the hell out of here.

I'll boost you up. I'll boost you, you're good.

Here we go.

Davey. Davey, please. Let us out.

Let's do this quickly. Come on.

Gas.

Davey. You don't have to do this.

Scully.

Where's Davey?

Go. Go!

Thank you.

Ambulance is on its way.

I would call Kersh as soon as you get cell reception.

Something you wanna share?

Kersh indicated to us that we were responsible... for your lack of upward mobility in the Bureau.

If it wasn't for you two, I wouldn't be here right now.

And I'm not talking about the fact that you showed up here today.

I enlisted in the Marine Corps the day that I turned 18.

I was a kid.

Full of callow self-confidence, and faith, and this...

This kind of uncorrupted belief that I was doing the right thing.

But John James... he didn't enlist.

He was drafted.

And his whole life was completely upended... by a w*r that he really, truly didn't even understand.

And he was so afraid all the time. I felt like I had to protect him.

But I didn't.

I couldn't.

That experience in Vietnam with John... it put a dent in that blind faith that I had in my government.

It planted seeds of mistrust.

I tried for years to suppress that mistrust, but it gnawed at me.

Then you two.

You two came along and you taught me not to hide from it... but to have the guts to shine a light directly into the darkest corners.

And if given the choice between advancing my career... by being blindly loyal to some faceless puppeteers pulling strings from the shadows... or to throw in with you two, make no mistake about it...

I'd make the same decision every single damn time.

So I'm gonna go back, I'm gonna kiss the ring.

But I intend to do right by this man... and that means finding the truth of what the hell it was they used him for.

No matter the cost.

I owe him that.

I owe myself that.

Skinner.

We're with you.

Imagine the power of a government that can literally control the minds... of millions and millions of its citizens, simply by exposing them to this poison.

It's happening. It's happening right now.