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answered.

    Assistant Director Skinner sat at his desk, ritually tap-ping his fingertips on the neatly typed forms in front of him. He did not stand when Mulder entered the room.
    That's usually a bad sign, Mulder thought. On the other hand, Skinner had thrown him a curve enough times that he decided it would do no good to second-guess him.
    The balding man was either a very good friend or the worst kind of enemy.
    Skinner knew things and passed the information on to Mulder only when he con-sidered it important to do so.
    Right now, Mulder needed to stay in Skinner's good graces. He and Scully had to get down to the Yucatan.
    Skinner looked at him through wire-rimmed glasses.
    "I'm not sure you realize just what a sensitive subject you've stepped into, Agent Mulder."
    Mulder stood at attention in front of his superior's desk. Keeping his expression neutral, he looked at the framed photographs of the President and the Attorney General on the wall. "I intend to exercise due discretion, sir."
    Skinner nodded, showing that he had already con-sidered this. "See that you do. As far as the Bureau is concerned, this is an important missing-persons case, relating to possible crimes committed upon American citizens. I have obtained for you and Agent Scully the status of LEGATS, legal attaches sent out of the country operating for the United States Embassy in Mexico City."
    He held up a finger. "But bear in mind how delicate this situation is, given the current economic and political tensions. The Mexican government is always sensitive to intrusions by U.S. officials on its soil. I don't need to remind you about the number of DBA agents who have been assassinated by drug lords in Central America.
    "The area you're heading into, in the state of Quintana Roo, is a political hotbed at this time. The local government is particularly vulnerable because of a vio-lent separatist movement that seems to be growing in force, thanks to an unidentified supply of weapons."
    "Are you suggesting that the archaeological team might have fallen victim to political unrest?" Mulder said.
    "I find that more likely than an ancient Mayan curse," Skinner said. "Or weren't you going to suggest that?"
    "Maybe, maybe not," Mulder said. "We have to examine every possibility."
    Skinner picked up a set of travel authorizations and expense vouchers. He passed them across the desk, and Mulder took them, noting that all the signature lines had already been filled in.
    "I expect you to strictly adhere to protocol, Agent Mulder," Skinner said. "I would urge you in no uncertain terms to hew the line in this investigation."
    "Yes, sir."
    "If you offend anyone in high places, you'll have more than just the FBI to answer to; you'll have the State Department as well. That is, unless you get yourself thrown into some Mexican jail first."
    "I'll try my best to stay clear of that, sir." Mulder took the forms and tucked them under his arm.
    "One more thing, Agent Mulder," Skinner said with an unreadable expression.
    "Have a nice trip."

    Offices of The Lone Gunmen, Washington, D.C. Tuesday, 4:40 p.m.

    "When all else fails, Special Agent Mulder comes to us for the real answers,"
    said Byers, leaning back in his chair. He straightened his suit and tie, ran a finger across his neat reddish beard, and looked up calmly.
    Entering alone, Mulder closed the door behind him in the dim offices of The Lone Gunmen, a conspiracy expose publication that purported to know the official truths about a thousand secret plots in which the government was engaged.
    Scully had told him once that she considered the oddball characters who produced the magazine to be the most paranoid men she had ever met. But Mulder had found time and again that the esoteric information the three Lone Gunmen had at their fingertips often led in directions that official channels would never have suggested.
    "Hi, guys," Mulder said. "Who's taking over the world this week?"
    "I think Mulder just likes to keep tabs on us,"