"Fox & Rat" Virtual Series - Season Eight

 

Review By: Emma Keturah

"I'm addicted to Brad Follmer." – Monica Reyes

Wow, who knew that Brad was an addiction? Ok so maybe we did but who knew Monica was addicted to him?

This episode is full of parallels and tie ins with "The X-Files" series and the death of Luke Doggett. As a reader I found it satisfying to finally see Doggett settle the score with Rigali. The episode weaves a web of lies, blackmail and deceit when following the story of Luke Doggett's death.

It is a flashback laden episode but don't let that deter you. Kristi cuts neatly from one to the other, giving insight into the past of some FRVS favourite characters. Be surprised by a revelation about Monica and Knowle's past. I know I sure was!

Enjoy the second last episode of the season!

8x24 "Face To Face"

Title: "Face To Face"
Written by: Kristi
Date: May 20-21, 2006
Air Date: May 29, 2006
Rating: R (language)
Series: FRVS - Episode #172
Episodes Referenced: 7x03 ďHistorias Del PasadoĒ, 7x24 ďIn The DarkĒ, 7x25 ďIn The LightĒ, 8x01 ďThe Last HeartĒ, 8x05 ďChanceĒ, 8x06 ďClose To YouĒ, 8x18 ďStranded IIĒ
Feedback: E-mail us at foxandratvs@gmail.com (please include the episode name in the subject) Thank you.
Archiving: "Fox & Rat" Virtual Series only!
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" and its characters belong to 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. If you recognize it, it's not our own creation. Original characters belong to Cassie and Kristi (FRVS).
Author's Note: The personalities of the characters within the world of "Fox & Rat" are not those you know from "The X-Files" television series. We have warped them and given them a common past, immature behavior and a sense of humor. Any horrid behavior should not be mimicked in your every day life.
Summary: Thirteen years ago Luke Doggett was murdered. Thirteen years of unanswered questions and heartache have all led John Doggett to this moment.


FADE IN:

INT. DOGGETTíS TRUCK Ė DAY

DOWNTOWN WASHINGTON, D.C.
TUESDAY, APRIL 25

Doggettís truck stops across the street from a crummy bar called Blueís Tavern. Itís a run down dump that only low lives and people hoping to avoid the law would frequent. He shuts off the engine and looks at the bar as he pulls a folder piece of paper out of his pocket and opens it. He looks down on the writing and shuts his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Thirteen years heís waited for this moment. Thirteen years of never knowing. Thirteen years of self-blame, heartache and never moving forward. Thirteen years his son has been dead, and for thirteen years he never knew who did it. Until today.

He opens his eyes and stares at the crummy, run down, Blueís Tavern. Thirteen years of his life have lead up to this moment.

Doggett opens his truck door and gets out.

CUT TO:

INT. BLUEíS TAVERN Ė CONíT

Doggett enters the bar. Itís dimly lit, low music, and empty. He looks the bar over, seeing the bartender cleaning glasses on the end of the bar closes to him. But Doggettís not interested in this man. Heís interested in the man sitting on the other end of the bar. The man drinking a warm brandy and smoking on a cigar. The man dressed in dark clothing with short dark brown hair, piercing eyes, and wrinkles on his forehead.

Doggett stares at this man. A stare that could kill. Thirteen years and there he is, the man who killed his son. The man he swore to himself heíd kill if he ever found him.

Doggettís hand makes way to his loaded Smith and Wesson. He walks over to the man and stands behind him. He looks down at him, this man knows heís here. He has to. Doggettís not sure what to do. Does he say something, or should he just pop him right here.

Anger, hate, heartache, revenge. All the emotions he felt on August 13, 1993 in New York, the day they found Luke, his little boy, lying dead in a field.

Seeing this man, knowing his name, and what he did. Itís a sense of closure, but is any lawful punishment what this man deserves?

The man sets his brandy down on the bar and picks his cigar up with his other hand.

MAN
You just going to stand there, FBI?

Doggett feels his grip on his loaded Smith and Wesson tighten. His jaw tightens as the man puts the cigar in his mouth and turns to face him, as we:

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. BRAD FOLLMERíS OFFICE Ė DAY

NEW YORK CITY FBI FIELD OFFICE
MONDAY, AUGUST 10, 1998

Brad Follmer sits at his desk looking at paperwork from Headquarters. Specifically a transfer request from Monica Reyes. Heís supposed to have it signed and returned to the D.C. Headquarters before the end of the week when she leaves. He looks it over, sheíll be going all the way to the deep south field office of New Orleans, Louisiana. He doesnít even understand why this transfer happened. She broke things off with him about a month ago, but never really said why, and now this transfer request comes in and he supposed to approve it.

He sets the transfer down and lets out a sigh, just as there is a knock on his door.

BRAD
Come in.

The door opens and Nicholas Rigali enters the office. This is the same man from Blueís Tavern, only he looks eight years younger.

Brad looks up at him, not happy to see him.

BRAD
Mr. Rigali.

Brad can already guess why heís here. Probably the same thing heís been doing for the past five years. He continues to have problems with this man because of a bribe he took five years ago in April 1993 that got Rigali off on drug trafficking charges. A bribe that Brad continues to regret. Two years after that, Rigali came again with another drug trafficking problem and wanted Brad to erase it from his record and get him off for a large sum of money.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Thereís a problem, FBI.

BRAD
Thatís usually why you come
here. (beat) What is it now?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
A couple of your agents are
looking to pin me on something
I didnít do.

Brad starts to shake his head. Dťjŗ vu all over again.

BRAD
If my agents are on to you
for something, then they must
have good reason. (beat) Iíd
like you to leave my office.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Youíre making a mistake, Mr. Follmer.

BRAD
Are you threatening me?

Rigali smirks at him. Heís smarter than to admit that he means to threaten.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Of course not, Mr. Follmer.

BRAD
Then weíre done here.

Rigali looks at him for a beat. Heíll get him another day, another way, and when he least expects it.

CUT TO:

INT. HAWK Ní DOVE BAR Ė THAT NIGHT

Monica Reyes lights up a cigarette as the bartender sets her martini in front of her. She looks more stressed than usual. Her partner, Danny Taylor, watches her.

DANNY TAYLOR
I have never seen you
this stressed out before.

He takes a sip of his glass of ice water. Monica looks over at him.

MONICA
You just donít understand what
Iím going through.

DANNY TAYLOR
Youíre right, I donít understand.
(beat) But if youíd tell him-

MONICA
-Thatís the thing, Danny. He knows.
Heís our ADIC, my boss, the head of
our field office and he hasnít even
called me up to his office to discuss it.

Danny listens.

MONICA (CONíT)
You know he approves all transfers
that come to him, even if they are
from Headquarters. He needs to sign
and approve them. (beat) But he hasnít
even talked to me about it.

DANNY TAYLOR
Maybe because you called things
off with him, what... three weeks ago?

MONICA
Five. I just told you about
it three weeks ago.

Danny nods his head.

DANNY TAYLOR
Ok, so maybe he hasnít brought up
the whole New Orleans transfer to
respect you breaking up with him.

MONICA
But we were friends before I
started sleeping with him here.

Danny watches as she downs her martini.

DANNY TAYLOR
(after a beat)
You still love him.

Monica doesnít acknowledge his statement. She brings her cigarette up to her lips and takes a quick, and nervous, smoke.

DANNY TAYLOR
Thatís why youíre stressing
so much, Little Texacana.

Monica looks over at him.

DANNY TAYLOR
I want you to ask yourself
why you broke up with him.

MONICA
He cares more about his job and
reputation than me. He doesnít
have time for a normal relationship
with me outside of the office. (beat)
I canít go on like that.

Danny nods in agreement.

DANNY TAYLOR
Iíve tried to tell you that a few times.

MONICA
If heís bad for me, then why
canít I get over him?

She starts to bring her cigarette up to her mouth again, but Danny stops her and takes it away. He holds it in front of her.

DANNY TAYLOR
Brad Follmer is this cigarette.

He picks up her empty martini glass.

DANNY TAYLOR
He was this martini you gulped down.

She bites her lower lip, knowing where heís going with this.

DANNY TAYLOR
And heís when you bite your lower
lip when you know Iím right and
youíre reluctant to admit it.

Monica looks away from him.

DANNY TAYLOR
Brad Follmer is your bad habit.

He sets her empty martini glass down on the bar, slides the ashtray over and puts out her cigarette. He looks at her.

DANNY TAYLOR
Bad habits are hard to break, Monica.
Believe me, I know. (beat) Iíve been
sober since 1995. It hasnít always been easy.

He watches her.

DANNY TAYLOR
You should bring this transfer up
with him. It will help you bring
closure and move on. (beat) Remember,
step one is admitting you have a problem.

Monica looks over at him.

MONICA
Ok. Iím addicted to Brad Follmer.

DANNY TAYLOR
Good, youíre on your way.

He smiles at her.

MONICA
I donít think I can give up my
martinis or cigarettes though.

Danny shakes his head and drinks his water again.

DANNY TAYLOR
Maybe breaking your Brad habit
will make the other two go away.

She smiles.

MONICA
If I didnít just down my martini,
Iíd make a toast for myself.

She laughs.

DANNY TAYLOR
Bartender!

The bartender comes over.

BARTENDER
What can I get you?

DANNY TAYLOR
Iíd like to buy my good friend
and partner, your very finest...

He looks at Monica and gives her a sly smile.

DANNY TAYLOR (CONíT)
...virgin margarita.

The bartender smiles.

BARTENDER
Coming right up.

He walks away. Monica smiles at Danny.

MONICA
Youíve taken the fun out of the margarita.

DANNY TAYLOR
I donít think my Little Texacana
should be getting herself drunk.

He smiles at her.

MONICA
You know what I need?

DANNY TAYLOR
What?

MONICA
Someone like you.

He smiles.

MONICA
You know, a good friend who watches
out for me instead of someone always
thinking of his own image and reputation.

DANNY TAYLOR
Aw, Iím sure that guy is out
there somewhere waiting for
you to find him too. (beat)
And when you find him, donít
let him go.

The bartender sets the virgin margarita in front of Monica. She smiles and takes it in her hand, lifts it up and looks at Danny, who lifts his glass of water.

MONICA
Hereís to...

She thinks for a small beat.

MONICA
...breaking our bad habits...

She bites her lower lip as she thinks for another short beat.

MONICA
...and to finding what truly
makes us happy in life...

DANNY TAYLOR
...And keeping it.

She smiles at him.

DANNY TAYLOR
And hereís also to the best
partner Iíve ever had. Itís
been a hell of a five years.

They clink their glasses and as they part to drink, we see Nicholas Rigali sitting across the bar from them, having heard their conversation.

TIME CUT TO:

INT. KNOWLE ROHRERíS APARTMENT Ė LIVING ROOM Ė NIGHT

WASHINGTON, D.C.
SATURDAY, AUGUST 15, 1998

Monica rests her head on Knowleís chest. Sweat slowly rolls down her forehead. Her fingers gently run through the hair on his chest. Knowleís arm is wrapped around her naked body, holding her close to him. He takes hold of her hand and brings it up to his lips and gives it a gentle kiss. Monica lets out a small sigh and smiles. He looks down at her. He smiles when he sees her at peace.

Monica lifts her head off his chest and looks at him.

MONICA
What are you thinking?

KNOWLE
I donít know.

MONICA
You always think.

Knowle smiles. Very true.

KNOWLE
About life.

MONICA
What about it?

KNOWLE
The choices we make.

MONICA
Which choice are you thinking of?

KNOWLE
I donít know if I should say.

Monica rests her head on his chest again.

MONICA
(after a short beat; soft)
You can tell me anything, Knowle.

Knowle thinks for a moment if he should tell her or not. He looks at her.

KNOWLE
Stay here with me.

MONICA
I will until Monday. I have to
be in New Orleans by Wednesday.

Knowle runs his hand over her bare arm.

KNOWLE
No, I mean... stay here, in
Washington. Donít go to New Orleans.

MONICA
Why?

KNOWLE
Do you remember when we dated in college?

Monica smiles, remembering the one year they decided to date.

MONICA
Yes.

Knowle clears his throat and she lifts her head again to look at him.

KNOWLE
I donít know... I just...

He looks into her eyes.

KNOWLE
I enjoy being with you, Monica.
(beat) Maybe if you donít go to
New Orleans, we could... I donít
know... See if anything could come
of us again. (beat) You know?

Monica smiles at him.

MONICA
You just want to date ďcrazy MonicaĒ again.

KNOWLE
Yeah, maybe I do.

MONICA
But I canít stay here, Knowle.
I have a job waiting for me in
New Orleans. I canít just let it go.

KNOWLE
Are you happy as an FBI agent?

Monica is silent for a beat.

MONICA
I donít know. (beat) I know you
told me that I should do what
makes me happy, but maybe I havenít
been happy as an FBI agent because
I started out wrong in New York.

KNOWLE
Could be.

MONICA
Iíll never know if I donít go down there.
(beat) If Iím not happy there, Iíll find
something that makes me happy.

Knowle moves his hand to the back of her head and pulls her to him, kissing her on the forehead.

KNOWLE
Do I make you happy?

Monica smiles.

MONICA
You have your dumb moments.

Knowle smiles, knowing very well he has his dumb ďman momentsĒ.

KNOWLE
I know, but overall?

MONICA
Yes.

She rests her head on him again, and they lie in silence for a few moments.

MONICA
What about you?

KNOWLE
What about me?

MONICA
Are you happy?

Knowle lets out a sigh, thinking of his job. Is he happy? Risking his life anytime he goes out in the field.

Monica looks up at him with her eyes.

MONICA
(after a long beat; soft)
Knowle?

KNOWLE
Things could be better.

MONICA
Stress?

KNOWLE
Yeah.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her on top of him.

MONICA
You shouldíve been a chef.

Knowle wrinkles his face at that comment.

MONICA
Donít give me that look. Youíre
a great cook. Always coming up
with ways to make things better
than the recipe.

KNOWLE
I donít know if ďThe RoarĒ
should be a chef.

He laughs.

MONICA
Donít live a life that others
expect of ďThe RoarĒ, isnít
that what you told me earlier?

Knowle smiles, sheís making him eat his own words from earlier in the day.

KNOWLE
Well, I just started working at the
DOD. How do I know it makes me happy
unless I donít try it out first, right?

He smiles at her, sending her words back at her.

MONICA
Letís make a pact.

KNOWLE
This isnít like the time when
you and John made a pact to
marry each other if you were
both single when thirty-five, is it?

MONICA
Not exactly. And I donít ever plan
on being single when Iím thirty-five.

She smiles at him.

MONICA
Letís make a pact that if in
three years weíre not happy
where we are, we leave and
find what truly makes us happy.

KNOWLE
Iím thirty-one years old. Shouldnít
I already be happy?

He smiles at her.

MONICA
Yeah, and Iím thirty. Face it
Knowle, weíre a couple of screw heads.

KNOWLE
Screw heads?

MONICA
Yes.

KNOWLE
What does that mean?

MONICA
It means weíre crazy.

KNOWLE
That would be why I want
to date ďcrazy MonicaĒ again.

He smiles and laughs.

MONICA
Can we agree on this pact?

KNOWLE
Sure, when Iím thirty-four and
your thirty-three, weíll finally
find what makes us happy. (beat)
Do you want me to write this out
on a piece of paper using crayon?

MONICA
(laughing)
No, thatís what John did when
we were kids. (beat) I hope he
still doesnít have that.

KNOWLE
(laughing)
He probably does.

MONICA
(back on topic)
So itís a deal?

KNOWLE
Yes, itís a deal. (beat) Can
we seal it with a kiss?

He smiles at her with a twinkle in his eye.

MONICA
Yes.

She moves in and kisses him, then rests her head on his chest once again.

KNOWLE
(after a long beat; quietly)
Te amo, Monica Isabella...

She smiles and shuts her eyes.

TIME CUT TO:

INT. BREAK ROOM Ė DAY

NEW ORLEANS FIELD OFFICE
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1998

ONE MONTH LATER

Monica is sitting at a small table alone, her lunch in front of her. She sits straight up with her hands on her abdomen. She looks overly concentrated as she tries to figure things out.

Standing in the doorway is Robert Comer, her new boss. She hasnít noticed him. He has a curious look on his face as he watches her.

ROBERT COMER
Monica?

She lets out a gasp of surprise and looks up at him.

ROBERT COMER
Sorry, didnít mean to startle you.

He enters the break room and sits down across from her.

ROBERT COMER
Are you all right?

MONICA
I donít know. I feel... off.

ROBERT COMER
Off?

MONICA
Yeah, I... I donít know, my
body just... it doesnít feel
in tune with itself. I feel
out of whack or something.

ROBERT COMER
Food poisoning?

Monica thinks, then shakes her head ďnoĒ.

MONICA
No, it couldnít be. The last time
I ate out was when I first got here
and I was too tired to cook. That
was a month ago.

ROBERT COMER
(joking)
Maybe itís the air of New Orleans.

He smiles at her and she gives him a look.

MONICA
I used to work in the smog of New York.

ROBERT COMER
I know... (beat) Look, I can tell youíre
going to be distracted by this until you
know whatís going on. So why donít you go
get checked over at the hospital. Just
to make sure everything is all right.

MONICA
Are you sure you donít need me here?

ROBERT COMER
I need you focused.

Monica nods her head.

MONICA
Youíre sure?

ROBERT COMER
Of course I am. And Iím your
supervising agent in charge,
so itís all right.

Monica smiles.

MONICA
All right, but I promise, Iím
usually no this weird all the time.

Comer laughs.

MONICA
Youíre laughing because youíve
already deemed me a nut job, arenít you?

ROBERT COMER
No, not at all. Iím laughing
because you are so worried and
itís nothing at all.

He smiles at her.

ROBERT COMER
Go get checked out.

MONICA
Thank you.

She cleans up her lunch and puts it back in the refrigerator and leaves. Comer turns and watches her. He shakes his head and smiles. Thereís something different about her and he canít help but smile.

TIME CUT TO:

INT. NEW ORLEANS HOSPITAL Ė A COUPLE HOURS LATER

Monica sits nervously in the hospital exam room. She fiddles with her hands, wondering what is taking them so long. She lets out a sigh in the hopes of calming her nerves. Why is she so nervous anyway? Her mind starts to think the worst. Perhaps sheís dying. Panic washes over her just as the door opens and the doctor comes in.

Monica looks up at her with worry. The doctor is smiling.

MONICA
(worried)
Iím dying, arenít I?

DOCTOR
Quite the opposite, Monica.
(beat) Youíre pregnant.

Monicaís expression changes to shock and her jaw drops open.

MONICA
(disbelief)
Iím what?

DOCTOR
Pregnant. Youíre going to have
a baby and be a new mother.

Monicaís eyes widen.

MONICA
(shock)
Oh my god. How far along am I?

DOCTOR
Well, I can get the sonogram hooked
up and we can see.

Monica nods her head and leans back as the doctor gets everything hooked up.

MONICA
(to herself; freaking out)
Oh god, itís probably Bradís. How could
I not know? What will he say? Iím so stupid.

DOCTOR
Looks like youíre a month in.

She looks at Monica and smiles. Monica sits up and looks at the monitor.

DOCTOR
See.

She points to the fetus on the monitor.

MONICA
A month?

DOCTOR
Wouldíve been around August 15th or 16th.

Monica lets this sink into her mind as she starts to calm. She leans back again.

MONICA
(realizing)
Oh my god... Knowle.

She looks up at the doctor.

DOCTOR
This wasnít planned.

Monica nods her head.

MONICA
You see, Iím an FBI agent, I...
I got a transfer from New York
because I was sleeping with my
boss and wanted a new start.
(beat) But before I came here,
I stopped by a friend of mine in
Washington, D.C.

She leans back.

MONICA
We didnít use a condom.

She lets out a sigh. How the hell is she going to tell Knowle this?

TIME CUT TO:

INT. MONICA REYESíS APARTMENT Ė THAT NIGHT

Monica sits on her couch, holding the telephone in her hands. She stares down at the numbers, not sure what to do. Scared even. How will he take this?

MONICA
(to herself)
Just call him, Monica. Tell him
right when he picks up. Tell him
youíre pregnant, itís his and that
we have to get married so Papa doesnít kill me.

She starts to dial Knowleís number.

MONICA
(to herself)
Weíll elope to Vegas. Get
married over the weekend.

She nods her head, convincing herself this is the best and only way to go about this issue. Panic washes over her and she hears the phone ringing on his end.

MONICA
Oh god. Pick up.

INTER CUT TO:

INT. KNOWLE ROHRERíS APARTMENT Ė WASHINGTON, D.C. Ė CONíT

Knowleís phone sits on top of a cardboard box. He still hasnít unpacked since getting his job with the Department of Defense. The apartment is quiet and dimly lit by one lamp near his couch. A shower is running in another room.

INTER CUT TO:

INT. MONICA REYESíS APARTMENT Ė CONíT

Monica nervously paces the living room.

KNOWLE (FILTERED)
Hey, this is Knowle-

MONICA
-Knowle, itís Monic-

KNOWLE (FILTERED)
-Iím not available right now, so
leave your name, number and a
brief message and Iíll get back
to you as soon as I can.

Monica quickly hangs up the phone and sets it down on her coffee table.

MONICA
(to herself)
Not on the machine. Not like that.

INTER CUT TO:

INT. KNOWLE ROHRERíS APARTMENT

Knowle stands dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. He holds the phone up to his ear, but all he gets is a dial tone. He looks at it for a moment, then sets it down, only left to wonder who was calling him.

He starts to walk back to his room, just as the phone rings again. He quickly picks up.

KNOWLE
Hello?

His face turns serious as he listens to the voice on the other end. He grabs a pen and paper that is near by.

KNOWLE
At 0200?

He writes on his pad of paper: ďIraq. 0200. Field observation ONLY.Ē

KNOWLE
(after a beat)
Yes, sir.

He hangs his phone up and goes into his bedroom. A moment later he returns, this time fully dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. He grabs his leather jacket and keys and heads out the door. Just as it shuts, his phone rings again. The answering machine picks up and after the beep:

MONICA (FILTERED)
(nervous)
Knowle... Itís Monica. (beat) Um
I was just calling to tell you-

There is a beat as her mind decides what to say:

MONICA (FILTERED)
(calmer)
I was just calling to see how things
are going up there. (beat) Um, give
me a call if you get the chance. (beat) Bye.

The phone is hung up.

TIME CUT TO:

EXT. NEW ORLEANS FBI FIELD OFFICE Ė NIGHT

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1998
ONE WEEK LATER

Lightening lights up the gloomy wet sky of New Orleans as rain pours down. Robert Comer exits the building and makes a run for his car that sits in the empty parking lot. The hard rain splats down on him, soaking him from head to toe.

He reaches his car and pulls out the keys from the pocket of his black leather jacket.

MAN
(from behind)
Bob Comer?

Comer looks into the window of his car and sees the reflection of Nicholas Rigali, a man he does not know. He turns around to face him.

ROBERT COMER
Yes?

Rigali strikes him hard over the head, dropping him unconscious to the ground.

FADE TO BLACK:

SMACK! The hard impact of a hit is heard.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Wake up, FBI.

FADE UP:

Comerís eyes slowly open. Everything is a blur as he tries to regain focus on Rigali, who hovers over him loading a pistol in front of him. The clicking of the gun clears Comerís vision. He looks at Rigali, sees his location and does not know where he is.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Robert David Comer...

He looks down and smiles as he finishes loading his weapon. Comer watches him carefully. Whoever this thug is, he can only be up to no good.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Supervising Agent in Charge of the
FBIís Violent Crimes Division here
in raining New Orleans, Louisiana.

Comer isnít shaken by Rigaliís knowledge. Anyone with a computer could find this information.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Former Marine for the U.S. of A,
dishonorable discharge in 1992
because of a disciplinary action.

ROBERT COMER
Is this supposed to scare me?
(beat) Anyone with a computer-

NICHOLAS RIGALI
-Your ex-wife, Jennifer Tyson, cheated
on you while you bravely fought in the
Gulf war. Cheated on you with your best
and most trusted friend from college, Jack Massee.

Comer listens. What the hell does this guy want?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You found out about the sexual
affair when she sent a video
tape of her and Jack performing
a little bit of S&M in your house.

ROBERT COMER
What do you want from me?

Rigali places the gun under Comerís chin.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You have a new agent working for
you, right? (beat) Monica Reyes,
who got a transfer from New York
City because she was having a love
affair with ADIC Brad Follmer.

Comer watches him with his icy blue eyes. What does this thug want with Monica? Rigali reads his expression and smirks.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Youíve taken more than just a
professional look at her, havenít you?

ROBERT COMER
Who are you?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Call me Nick. (beat) Hereís what I
want you to do for me.

Rigali moves away from him and over to a table. Comer sits up and holds his head. Heís bleeding from the hit to his head earlier. He watches Rigali pick up a camera and turn around to face him.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I want you to take a few photos
of Ms. Reyes for me.

ROBERT COMER
Iím not going to do anything for you.

Rigali calmly sets the camera down and looks at him.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I just need a little assistance with
a problem in New York City, Mr. Comer.
(beat) A problem named Brad Follmer.

Comer listens.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Back in í93, Mr. Follmer accepted
some money from me to make an indictment
disappear from my record. (beat) Two
years later, I go back, needing more
of Mr. Follmerís assistance. He refuses,
saying he never made a deal with me.

Rigali grabs a chair and pulls it up in front of Comer. He sits down.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You see, heís not owning up to the
deal anymore. (beat) Thatís a problem.

He looks at Comer for a beat.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
In my line of business Iíve discovered
that every problem has a solution. (beat)
So I figure that if I send him some photos
of his precious Monica Reyes, heíll know
that I can harm her whenever I please. Heíll
own up to the deal he made with me in í93.
(beat) Problem solved.

Rigali starts to check his gun over.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Now, if I canít send photos to him,
thatís a problem for me. (beat) But
as I said before, every problem-

ROBERT COMER
-Has a solution.

Comer glares at him, knowing the shit heís in now. Rigali smiles and nods.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
If I canít send photos of Ms. Reyes,
Iíll have to send something else.
(beat) Now... what could I send?

Rigali looks at Comer for a beat with a ďpensiveĒ look on his face.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
An ear? A finger? Hell, why not
send her whole head, right?

Rigali stares at him with a menacing look.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Youíre a smart man, Mr. Comer. Iím sure
youíve already figured out what I do
for... business, and you must know that
I conduct business with many low lives,
sickos and perverts.

He leans forward.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Believe me, I know a man down here
that would enjoy cutting up a beautiful
woman like Ms. Reyes. And I can guarantee
heíll want more with her before he begins.

Comer feels heís down in his own grave with this situation.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
If you do as I ask, she wonít get hurt.
If you donít... well... I think you know
what will happen to her. But you... well,
I canít guarantee you anything.

He smirks at Comer for a moment, then digs into his pocket and retrieves a thick white envelope.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I like you FBI. You seem like a good
person. My family rewards good people.

He tosses the envelope to Comer.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
This is for your troubles.

Comer looks down at it and opens it. Inside is a thick wad of one-hundred dollar bills.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
And thatís just half of what
weíll pay you. (beat) Here are
the conditions.

Rigali pulls out a cigar from his pocket and lights it up.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You take photos of her without
her knowing. You send them to
Assistant Director in Charge,
Brad Follmer. You will get his
address from your databases. (beat)
Heís the ADIC in New York City.
(beat) You send him photos until
I tell you to stop. (beat) Youíll
be paid every week.

Comer closes the envelope and looks up at Rigali.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
So what do you say? Save Ms. Reyesís
life and take photos of her, or send
her to the butcher. The choice is yours.

Comer looks at him. Analyzes the situation. Thereís only one way out of this.

ROBERT COMER
(after a reluctant beat)
Fine. Iím in.

Rigali sticks his thick cigar into his mouth and smiles at him.

CUT TO:

INT. NEW ORLEANS FBI FIELD OFFICE Ė MORNING

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1998
THE NEXT DAY

Comer enters the office and makes his way to the Violent Crimes bull pen. He only sees three of his four agents Ė Monica Reyes is missing. His mind thinks the worst, what if they got to her last night?

He looks over at Monicaís partner, Special Agent Brian Fielding.

ROBERT COMER
Fielding, whereís Reyes?

BRIAN FIELDING
She said she wasnít feeling well.
I think sheís in the restroom.

Comer nods his head and walks away, in the direction Monica would be. He stands outside the ladies room and knocks on the door.

ROBERT COMER
Agent Reyes?

He listens for a beat and doesnít get any answer. He opens the door and hears Monica crying quietly.

ROBERT COMER
(concern)
Monica?

He walks in and sees Monica sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her body. Tears fall down her face. She doesnít look at him. He goes up to her and kneels in front of her. She wipes tears off her face.

ROBERT COMER
(concern)
Whatís wrong?

Monica shuts her eyes and bites her lower lip, trying to stop her tears.

MONICA
(after a beat)
I um.

She gulps down her tears and takes a deep breath.

MONICA
(quiet)
I was pregnant.

Comerís heart sinks hearing her speak of this in the past tense.

MONICA
(tears welling again)
I miscarried this morning.

She wipes her tears off her face again.

MONICA
I hadnít even told the father yet.
I just found out a week ago, and
I became a ball of stress.

She looks away from him as tears fall down her face.

MONICA
I killed it.

Comer shakes his head ďnoĒ.

ROBERT COMER
(soft)
Monica...

MONICA
If I wouldíve told him, he wouldíve
calmed me. Heís always done that. But
I was afraid to tell him, and now its gone.

She starts to cry again.

ROBERT COMER
(soft)
Monica, itís not your fault.

MONICA
(crying)
Iím sorry.

Comer gives her a questioning look.

MONICA
Iím sorry Iíve lost it. This
is so unprofessional of me. Iím
not fit to be an FBI agent.

Comer listens.

MONICA
I shouldíve listened to him. I
shouldíve followed my heart and
told him I was unhappy instead
of making the stupid pact. (beat)
None of this would be happening.

Comer watches her for a beat. Heís never had this happen to one of his agents before. He places a comforting hand on her hands.

ROBERT COMER
You can take today off all right?
If you need more time, just call
me. Itís not a problem, ok?

Monicaís in a world of her own thoughts.

MONICA
(to herself)
This has to be punishment.

ROBERT COMER
(more worried)
What?

MONICA
When I was younger, a friend got
me pregnant at a Christmas party.
(beat) I had an... (quiet) an abortion.

She looks down, hating herself for the decision she made long ago.

MONICA
This miscarriage is my punishment.

ROBERT COMER
Youíre not being punished, Monica.
These things happen. It doesnít
mean any of it is your fault.

Monica looks into his blue eyes and finds the calm sheís been needing.

ROBERT COMER
Youíre going to be ok. You will
get through this. (beat) And as
I said before...

Monica nods her head.

MONICA
Iíll be in tomorrow and
in better condition.

ROBERT COMER
And if you need more time, just call me.

Monica nods her head. Another tear falls and this time, Comer wipes it away with his hand. Their eyes meet and he breaks contact first.

MONICA
(after a beat)
Donít tell the others about this.

ROBERT COMER
I wonít. Iíll say you werenít
feeling well and went home.

MONICA
Thank you.

He smiles at her and she canít help but smile back at him. If this wouldíve happened up in New York and Brad found her crying in the bathroom and being this unprofessional, he wouldíve handled it completely differently. He was always about work. But not Robert Comer, he knows itís important to heal from something horrible.

She squints her eyes at him when she notices a cut on his head.

MONICA
What happened there?

Monica touches his forehead.

ROBERT COMER
Itís nothing. A pot fell in my
kitchen and my head got in the way.

MONICA
Ow.

ROBERT COMER
Iíll be fine.

He smiles at her.

TIME CUT TO:

INT. CAR Ė NIGHT

TUESDAY, MAY 31, 2005
WASHINGTON, D.C

Nicholas Rigali gets into his car and pulls out his cell phone. He watches Robert Comer walk away and get into his own car across the way from a bar, Blueís Tavern. Rain falls down on the windshield. Rigali doesnít bother to turn on his car just yet. He dials a phone number and holds the phone to his ear as Comerís car drives by and out of sight.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
Hello?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Itís Rigali.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
Havenít heard from you in a while.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
FBIís cominí down tomorrow morning.
They want to talk to you about a
crime you were involved in back in í93.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
What one is that?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Iím sure you remember him. A
little boy. Copís son. Luke Doggett
is the name. (beat) Their questions
could lead to my name. Thatís a problem.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
What do I do?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Just tell them the truth. That you
took the boy, molested him, but you
didnít kill him. You will give them
the name Vinny Cordini. Tell them
Vinny killed Luke. Then tell that
heís involved with the mob and that
the mob is probably watching you.
Ask for federal protection in the
witness protection program.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
Vinny Cordini. He a real guy?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Yes. Just give him his name and
get them to get you into protection.
Once you are in protection, get out
of dodge and live as a free man. (beat)
Cordini will tell them theyíve been
had and theyíll come after you.

ROBERT HARVEY (FILTERED)
All right.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Under no circumstances will you
mention my name. (beat) You know
how the family works.

Rigali hangs up the phone and starts his car to drive away.

TIME CUT TO:

INT. WAREHOUSE Ė MORNING

TUESDAY, APRIL 25, 2006
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Robert Comer paces the empty warehouse, smoking on a cigarette. He looks at his watch, just as a door opens and Nicholas Rigali steps inside.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
(mad)
I call you, UC, not the other way around.

Comer tosses his cigarette to the ground and goes up to him. He looks pissed as well.

ROBERT COMER
Iím done, Nick. No matter what
you say. Iím done. Iím out.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I tell you when youíre done, UC.

ROBERT COMER
I figured it out you
son-of-a-bitch.

Comer glares at him.

ROBERT COMER
I put two and two together. Why
Bob Harvey got away. Why you wanted
me to let you in on information. You
knew theyíd get close to solving that case.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Are you a problem?

ROBERT COMER
I donít care if Iím a fucking
problem for you. You killed a
fucking copís son. Thatís one
of our own and you fucking
murdered him. (beat) Was a kid,
a fucking seven year old boy
a problem that could only be
solved by a bullet?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You are walking a thin line, UC.

Comer turns away from him and shakes his head.

ROBERT COMER
Iím done, Nick.

He turns to face Rigali.

ROBERT COMER
Iím telling them everything. How
you got Harvey out of dodge, the
set up with Cordini-

NICHOLAS RIGALI
And what do you think will happen
to you, UC? Huh? You were involved.
You aided in the escape of Harvey.

ROBERT COMER
Yeah, but Iím bringiní you in.

Comerís glare tells Rigali all he needs to know. Comer is a problem.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Youíll want to re-think this, UC.

ROBERT COMER
Why? Because ďevery problem
has a solution?Ē (beat) I
donít fucking care if I hang
my career on this! You killed
a copís son. You murdered him
then set a cover up so they
couldnít get to you. (beat) Iím
putting your ass behind bars
where youíve belonged all along.

Rigali smirks at him. Heís always got an ace up his sleeve.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
So what, you turn me in and everything
fixes itself. (beat) I think youíre forgetting
how loyal Iíve been to the family. You
betray me, you betray them. They solve
problems better than I do.

Comer glares at him.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I want you to think about this, UC.
Think about Monica Reyes sitting alone
in her apartment, on her birthday and
getting a knock on her door. She gets
up, answers it, thinking itís her friends
coming to celebrate with her.

Rigali watches Comer for a beat, seeing that heís listening to him.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
She opens the door, but itís not her
friends. Itís a man, much larger than
she. He smells of thick, sickening cigar
smoke and he grabs her by the throat. Pushes
her back into her apartment and shuts the door.
No one is there to help her. He crushes her
throat so she canít even scream.

Rigali smirks at him.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
He rapes her. Fucks her up bad, but
leaves her to live. Tells her this
is because of you, the man who promised
her heíd never let anything bad happen
to her. (beat) She lives, hating you,
and too hideous to go out in public.

Anger boils in Comerís blood as he glares at this man.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
I know you donít want that to
happen to her, UC. (beat) So
hereís what weíll do. Iíll forget
you ever brought this up, but Iíll
be keeping a very close eye on you.
Weíll continue how we always have and
no one gets hurt. (beat) You up for that, UC?

Comer glares at him, and makes a quick move to the gun he hid behind his back. He aims it at Rigali.

ROBERT COMER
Iím bringing you down, Rigali.

Rigali doesnít even react to the gun. In fact, he takes a step towards Comer.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
All I have to do is make one phone call.

He smirks at Comer, his words speak volumes to him. He gets arrested, makes one phone call and people he cares for get hurt.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
But I see you are going to be a problem.

Rigali pulls out a gun, and shoots Comer in the gut. He falls to the ground holding his wound.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
Itís been nice doing business
with you, UC.

Rigali smirks down at him and leaves the warehouse to continue on with his business.

CUT TO:

INT. MONICA REYESíS APARTMENT Ė LATE MORNING

Monica is laying on her couch, holding her head with one of her hands. She wears Knowleís dog tags around her neck. She shakes her head and opens her eyes.

MONICA
(to herself)
Where are you?

She seems worried, more so than before. She sits up, crosses her legs in an Indian position and shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath.

MONICA
(quietly)
I know youíre there somewhere, Grandmama.

She bites her lower lip in worry as she squeezes her eyes shut.

A knock on the door catches her attention. She opens her eyes and gets off the couch. Makes her way over to the door and opens it.

Brad Follmer stands in the hallway with a small box in his hands. He smiles at her.

BRAD
Happy Birthday, Monica.

She smiles and he hands the box to her. She takes it.

MONICA
Come in.

She lets him in and shuts the door behind her.

MONICA
I canít reach my Grandmama, Brad.

Brad turns to face her.

BRAD
What?

MONICA
Remember how I showed you how
I can talk to my Grandmama?

BRAD
The whole shut your eyes and
conk out for a few hours as
you speak to her through
telepathic means?

Monica nods her head.

BRAD
Then yes, I remember.

MONICA
I canít reach her. Itís not usual.

She goes over and sits on her couch. Brad follows and sits down next to her.

BRAD
Maybe sheís sleeping.

MONICA
That would make it easier.

She lets out a sigh.

MONICA
Iím really worried for her, Brad.
I mean, what if sheís in trouble?

BRAD
Do you think she is?

MONICA
Sheís an old woman who lives
alone on a high cliff in Chihauhau.

She rubs her forehead and winces. Brad gently takes hold of her hand and brings it away from her forehead.

BRAD
Something bothering you?

Monica nods her head.

BRAD
Just try to block it.

MONICA
I need to go down there. (beat)
But I donít want to go alone. Something
is telling me I shouldnít go alone.

BRAD
What do you mean?

MONICA
Come with me to Chihauhau.

BRAD
I canít, Monica. Iíve got my job-

Monica stands up and leaves the living room.

MONICA
This is why we donít work, Brad!

Brad watches her.

MONICA
Itís always about work with you!

Brad stands up and goes over to her.

BRAD
(soft)
Monica... I...

She doesnít look at him, but he watches her for a moment and notices Knowleís dog tags around her neck.

BRAD
Iím sorry.

He lowers his eyes.

MONICA
Brad, I-

Brad reaches out and lifts the dog tags up to see them. Monica looks down.

BRAD
He gave you his dog tags?

Brad looks at her and she looks back up at him.

MONICA
Yes. He did. Before he left for
duty. (beat) He said theyíd give
me strength.

Brad can tell sheís holding something back from him.

BRAD
(after a beat)
Monica... be honest with me.

Monica looks at him.

MONICA
I love-

Sheís cut off by Bradís cell phone ringing. He looks down at it and sees the name on caller ID. He picks up.

BRAD
Brad Follmer.

He listens to the person on the other end. He looks at Monica upon hearing the news.

BRAD
He does? (beat) Yeah, Iíll be
right there.

He hangs up.

MONICA
What is it?

BRAD
Agent Comerís been shot. He
says he knows the man who
killed Luke Doggett.

Monicaís eyes widen.

BRAD
Iíve got to get down there.

Monica nods her head.

MONICA
Are you going to tell John?

BRAD
When I get the full story.

Brad opens the door, but stops before leaving. He turns to face her.

BRAD
Iíll be back. I promise. I
havenít forgotten your birthday.

Monica smiles and nods her head.

MONICA
I know.

He shuts the door, leaving Monica alone.

CUT TO:

INT. D.C. GENERAL HOSPITAL Ė DAY

Brad enters the hospital and sees the man heís looking for, Frank Donovan, the head of the Undercover Unit.

BRAD
Where is he?

FRANK DONOVAN
Right in here.

Frank leads him to Comerís room and Brad goes in.

INT. COMERíS HOSPITAL ROOM Ė CONíT

Brad enters and goes up to Comerís bedside. Heís hooked up to many monitors and has a bandage over his gut where he was shot.

BRAD
They told me you know the man
who killed Luke Doggett.

ROBERT COMER
Yes. New York mobster named
Nicholas Rigali.

BRAD
Youíre sure itís him?

ROBERT COMER
Yes. He got Harvey away. (beat)
I tipped him off saying the FBI
was heading down to New Orleans.
Iíve been on the take. Heís been
holding things over my head. (beat)
Then I put the whole Harvey thing
into thought. Did some digging and
realized the only reason Rigali would
want me to tell anything I knew about
this case was because he did it.

BRAD
Where can we find him?

ROBERT COMER
I wrote down the information of
where he frequents. Itís in my
jacket pocket over there.

Comer points to the chair where his leather jacket is. Brad goes over and retrieves a note with ďJOHN DOGGETTĒ written on it.

Brad holds it up.

BRAD
Is this it?

ROBERT COMER
Yes.

Brad looks at the handwriting and recognizes it from the envelopes he received in New York, and a few months ago. Envelopes containing photos of Monica.

ROBERT COMER
Make sure Monicaís not alone.
He threatened her.

BRAD
Iíll get someone over there now.

Brad heads to the door and leaves.

CUT TO:

INT. DOGGETTíS TRUCK Ė DOWNTOWN WASHINGTON, D.C. Ė 2 P.M.

John Doggett looks down at the piece of paper in his hands. He unfolds it and reads the handwriting: ďBlueís Tavern. Nicholas Rigali Ė killed your son. Be there at 1400.Ē

Doggett shuts his eyes, allowing this information to consume his mind. Heís waited too long for this moment. Knowing that this man, Nicholas Rigali is inside the crummy bar across the street. Heís not sure what to do. Heís feeling so much emotion right now. Anger, regret, relief.

He opens his eyes again and stares at Blueís Tavern. This is the moment heís been waiting for.

He opens his truck door and gets out.

CUT TO:

INT. BLUEíS TAVERN Ė CONíT

Doggett enters the dimly lit bar. Low music plays. The bar is nearly empty, save for the bartender who is cleaning glasses on the end of the bar closest to him. On the other end of the bar is Nicholas Rigali, smoking a cigar and drinking a warm brandy.

Doggett watches this man closely. All his emotions flowing through him. This is the man who killed his little boy. The man who caused thirteen years of pain in his and Barbaraís life. The man he swore to himself heíd kill if he ever found him. And here he is. Sitting across the way smoking on a cigar and drinking.

Doggettís eyes quickly glance behind Rigali and at Scully who watches carefully while sipping on a drink.

Doggettís hand makes way to his loaded weapon. He walks over to Rigali and stands behind him. He could pop him now. No lawful justice will be given to this son-of-a-bitch. He feels Scully watching him from behind. He canít do that to her. He canít throw away his life.

ďHis life isnít worth yours in prison.Ē Thatís what she had told him after Harvey got away and he told her heíd kill the man who killed his son if he ever found him. He canít let her down like that and he wonít.

Rigali sets his brandy down on the bar and picks up his cigar with his other hand.

NICHOLAS RIGALI
You just going to stand there, FBI?

Doggett grips his gun and tightens his jaw as Rigali sticks his thick cigar in his mouth and turns to face him.

DOGGETT
Nicholas Rigali?

NICHOLAS RIGALI
If youíre hear about my parole-

DOGGETT
Iím here, Mr. Rigali, to take you
in, under arrest for the murder of
Luke John Doggett back in August 1993
in Long Island, New York. Iím also here to
arrest you for the attempted murder
of Special Agent Robert David Comer.

Scully stands up to help assist in the arrest.

DOGGETT
(keeping his calm and professionalism)
You have the right to remain silent.

Scully makes Rigali stand up and she cuffs him as Doggett proceeds to read him his rights.

Off of them bringing Rigali down...

FADE TO:

EXT. BEACH Ė LONG ISLAND Ė DAY

SUNDAY, APRIL 30

Doggett and Barbara stand on the beach, the water gently rushes over their feet. Barbara watches Doggett as he looks down at the box that heís held on to for these thirteen years. Tears sting both of their eyes. Theyíve both waited so long for this moment. Both of them finally getting closure to a past that has haunted them longer than it should. A tear falls onto the box from Doggettís eye, falling onto the date of Lukeís birthday. Barbara rubs his arm to comfort him as a tear falls from her eye. She wraps her arm around his and looks at him.

BARBARA
(choking back her tears)
Itís time, John.

Doggett looks back at her, then back out to the open ocean.

DOGGETT
He loved it here. Remember?

Barbara nods her head.

DOGGETT
Heíll be happy here.

He looks down at the box. ďLuke John DoggettĒ. Doggett smiles at it.

DOGGETT
He once asked me if this was
what Heaven was like.

A tears fall from his eyes again.

DOGGETT
I told him Heaven was where
he was happiest.

BARBARA
He was always happy here.

Doggett looks back at her.

BARBARA
Let him go, John. Let him free.

Doggett nods his head and opens the box. Lukeís ashes fly out. Free. Landing in the water, on the sand. Free to be in his Heaven.

Doggett and Barbara stand a while. Watching the tide wash in and out. Remember the good times. Remember their son.

Off of them, we:

FADE OUT:

THE END.


 

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