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X-Files 2x15 Fresh Bones

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Your turn.
Are you still feeling sick?
What's the matter with you?|Can't you hear the baby is crying?
How about some cereal, honey?
You were having those awful|dreams again last night.
I didn't sleep long enough to be dreaming.
I want you to go to the doctor.|Find out what's wrong.
- Will you do that?|- I'd just like to eat my breakfast in peace!
Do you think that's possible?
Jack! What is it?!
Private John McAlpin.|One of the few, the proud, but dead.
He wrapped his car around a tree.|He died on impact.
Drug and alcohol tests came back negative.
The car shows no evidence|of mechanical failure.
The military is calling it a suicide.|It's the second one in as many weeks.
- Both at the same base?|- Yeah, except it's not exactly a base.
The Marines were stationed at the|Folkstone Processing Center, North Carolina.
More than 12,000 refugees waiting|for asylum from Uncle Sam.
- Wasn't there a riot there a month ago?|- Yeah. A ten-year-old boy was killed.
- Details of his death were never released.|- Why did the military contact us?
They didn't. Mrs McAlpin|contacted the Bureau...
...when the military refused to investigate|her husband's death further.
She doesn't believe it was suicide.
This is the tree that stopped|Private McAlpin's car.
The state police reported|there was graffiti on the bark.
Looks like some kind of ritual symbol.
Most of the refugees at Folkstone are Haitian.
Mrs McAlpin believes voodoo|was behind her husband's death?
Mrs McAlpin doesn't believe her husband|killed himself. She wants to know who did.
Jack used to tell these jokes.
Well, they were pretty dumb, I guess.
But the way he told them|always made me laugh.
Then he got transferred to the camp,|and nothing was very funny any more.
Did he ever discuss what went on there?|What his duties included?
No. He'd just come home angry.
Mostly at himself, though sometimes|he'd turn it on Luke and me.
Was he ever treated for depression or stress?
No. I tried getting him to talk|to someone... even our minister.
But Jack believed in dealing|with his own problems.
Did he believe in voodoo?
The Marines, his family and football|sums up everything Jack believed in.
So when did you first think that his death|involved something out of the ordinary?
One of the boys in his squad...|told me what they found at the accident.
And he said it was some|kind of voodoo curse.
The same one they found on the stool|that Puerto Rican boy used to hang himself.
- Who told you that?|- Harry Dunham.
He's from New Orleans, so he's|superstitious about that type of thing.
What about you?
My husband had just died, so I didn't|give it much thought either way.
Not until Luke dug this up out of his|sandbox.
I know it sounds crazy,|me worrying about all this.
The truth is I'm scared.
I'm scared for my child...
...and I just don't know what to do any more.
It's down there on the right, sir.
(man speaks Haitian)
Va tu! Va tu! Go! Go! Go away!|Get out of here! Go! Go!
Away! Go! Go!
He's crazy. Too much rum.
For such a pretty lady,|it is dangerous out here.
You need something pour vous garder.
For protection.
- Your lucky charm.|- Come on, Mulder.
- How much?|- Five. I mean ten.
I'll give you five.
- OK.|- Let's go, Mulder.
You should always carry protection.|There you go.
I'm still not clear just what it is|you're investigating here.
Two of your men have died in two weeks,|allegedly of self-inflicted injuries.
I've taken every measure|to see it doesn't happen again.
I've even flown in the 528th Combat Stress|Control Detachment from Camp Lejeune.
But your soldiers aren't in combat.
What we're dealing with here is worse.
How so?
We're soldiers. We're not prison guards.
We're policing a hostile|population of foreigners...
...without the resources to feed or house|them. There are bound to be some conflicts.
So your men bear the brunt|of the refugees' frustration?
It's hatred, plain and simple.
They hate us.
And all I can do is... see that they're|processed as efficiently as possible.
Colonel Wharton, a, uh... certain ritual sign|was found at the scene of both deaths.
- Is there anything you can tell us about that?|- Not much.
Apparently it's some sort of voodoo marking.
But you haven't investigated it|as a possibility?
Possibility of what?
All I know is voodoo caused|a riot in my camp.
One night they held some secret ceremony.|The next day all hell broke loose.
We understand a refugee|was killed. A young boy.
No one felt that tragedy more deeply than me.
I was able to isolate the one responsible|for instigating all the trouble.
- Who would that be?|- His name is Bauvais. Pierre Bauvais.
- Thinks he's some kind of revolutionary.|- Do you think we could speak with him?
If you don't mind listening to|his laundry list of complaints.
I'd also like to examine Private McAlpin's|body. I have a signed consent from his wife.
Private Dunham will help you both|with whatever you need.
Cause of death was no great mystery.|That boy was doing 60 when he hit the tree.
- So they pronounced him at the scene?|- His head was hanging like a broken peony.
And he had no cardiac functioning.
I saw no reason to conduct an autopsy then|and I still don't. You can see for yourself.
What kind of a sick joke is this?
Jackson! Who the hell's been in here?
Someone's tampered with McAlpin's|body, and I wanna know who!
- You're Harry Dunham.|- Yes, sir.
You knew Private McAlpin.
His wife said you were friends.
We were in the same squad.
Any idea why he might've killed himself?
I can't say, sir.
Can't say, or you won't say?
I'll be right here if you need me.
My name is Mulder. I'm with the FBI.
I was hoping you could answer questions|about the Marines who took their own lives.
It is a terrible shame.
I'm not convinced it's as simple as that.
You do not believe I was|involved in this, do you?
How could I be...
...when they keep me locked up in here.
You tell me.
These photographs were taken|at the sites of both deaths.
The shell was found buried under|one of the soldiers' homes.
Can you tell me about the symbol?
What do you expect to learn from this?
Just the truth.
One of the Marines left behind a wife.|She's too frightened to even mourn.
She deserves some peace of mind.
It is the loco-miroir...
...the crossroads between the two worlds.
The mirror in which a man|must confront his true self.
These... Marines...
...maybe they did not like what they saw.
Colonel Wharton says you|incited the riot last month.
My country was born on the blood of slaves.
Freedom is our most sacred legacy.
Does that mean you'd kill to preserve it?
Wharton will not let us return home.
Which is all we ask.
Mulder, I need to speak with you.
She's come to tell you... the Marine is gone.
- How did you know?|- It's the spirits.
Loa have warned you.
Somebody stole McAlpin's body|and replaced it with a dog's corpse.
They will only warn you once.
After that, no magic can save you.
Come on, Scully. Let's go.
What do you think happened|to Private McAlpin?
Bauvais must've switched the bodies.
- But he's been confined for the last month.|- Then he had somebody else do it.
You said there was no evidence.|And security's impossible to breach.
Whoever did it was clever and thorough.
I wasn't suggesting that|some kind of spirit did it.
Well, just in case,|I believe in covering my bases.
Mulder, voodoo only works|by instilling fear in its believers.
You saw how Bauvais tried to intimidate me.
I'll admit the power of suggestion|is considerable, but...
...this is no more magic|than a pair of fuzzy dice.
Scully, look out!
Private McAlpin?
He's non-verbal... non-responsive|to voice, touch or pain.
The neurologists suspect he suffered a|severe concussion, resulting in amnesia.
A plausible diagnosis. Only I'm more|interested in how he came back to life.
Well, obviously, he never left.
Dr Foyle made a gross mistake|when he signed the death certificate.
- Did you get a copy of the blood test?|- Yeah.
Electrolytes, white and red|counts are all normal.
Except this is strange.
The lab detected trace levels|of tetrodotoxin in his blood.
That's a poison found in the reproductive|organs of puffer fish, a Japanese delicacy.
Only I get the feeling that Private McAlpin|didn't frequent many sushi bars.
- You have a theory how it got in his blood?|- What do you know about zombies?
I hope you don't tell Robin McAlpin|that she married one.
In 1982 a Harvard ethnobotanist|named Wade Davis...
...did extensive field research in Haiti|on the zombification phenomenon.
He analysed several samples of zombie|powder prepared by voodoo priests.
- He found tetrodotoxin in all of them.|- Mulder, it's a lethal poison.
Small doses can depress cardiorespiratory|activities to such a low level...
...that the victim appears clinically dead.
- Zombie or not, Jack McAlpin is alive.|- Exactly.
Which is what makes me wonder about the|other Marine who allegedly killed himself.
Why would they bury Private Guttierez here?
They beat you to it.
You're the FBI, aren't ya?
We've arranged to exhume|the body of Manuel Guttierez.
I prepared the dig as soon as|I got the order, but it's too late.
- Too late?|- Yeah, the body snatchers got there first.
I caught 'em a few times right in the act,|but... it's gettin' I can't keep up any more.
That's, uh... why I got this.
Don't the police intervene?
They got their hands full|just tryin' to protect the living.
I'm all these people have|to preserve their rest.
These body snatchers,|what do they do with the bodies?
- They sell 'em.|- To who?
Well, it varies. When the local medical|school ran short of cadavers...
...rumour had it that the|snatchers got $200 a head.
But mostly it's the voodoo|types who do the buying.
A lot of folks in these parts go in for that...
...with the medicines and the potions and...
Here we are.
Look at that. They dug him up|right under my nose.
How's he supposed to rest in peace like this?
They can do what they like|with the pigs and the chickens.
But this is a desecration.
This is uncool.
Look at that. See what I'm talking about?
Let us take care of this.
Knock yourselves out.
Let me be! I didn't do nothing!|What did I do?!
- Maybe you can tell us.|- Let me be!
Maybe I should kiss a few|and find out if one is Guttierez.
Fresh bones. They pay good.
But I go there for the frogs.|You find the best frogs at the cemetery.
How do you get out of the camp?
I go and then I come back.
What about your parents?|Are your parents at the camp?
What about a name?
Chester Bonaparte.
- What do you do with the frogs, Chester?|- For each one I catch I get 50 cents.
- From who? Who pays you for them?|- Bauvais. His magic is the most strong.
He even made my fries disappear!
You know, Chester, I got magic, too.|And I bet I can make your fries reappear.
Mulder, certain frog species secrete|a substance called bufotoxin.
It's chemically similar to what|was in Private McAlpin's blood.
We should ask Bauvais what|he's doing with those frogs.
I didn't want to say anything,|but I think we're being followed.
There's a grey four-door sedan|in the parking lot.
Keep an eye on Chester.
Out of the car, Private!
- You've been following us.|- I had to warn you.
You didn't seem interested before.
I couldn't talk then, not with|Colonel Wharton so close by.
And not with him right there.
Chester? He's just a little boy.
No, sir, he is not.
- What's going on?|- He was about to tell us why we're in danger.
You're putting yourselves into|something you don't understand.
But you do.
Bauvais warned him. He told the colonel|he'd take his men one by one unless...
Unless what?
Unless the colonel let his people|go back to Haiti. But the colonel...
...he just had us turn up the heat|on all them beatings.
- Colonel Wharton sanctioned beatings?|- He ordered it. And worse.
The things he is making us|do to those people!
Why hasn't anybody filed a complaint?
None of us feel good about it, ma'am,|but you don't join the Marines to feel good.
You said Bauvais threatened|the colonel's men.
He said... he'd take their souls.
And you believe he can do that?
Jack was my friend.|Look what happened to him.
We don't know what happened to him. But|there is an explanation for his condition.
Back home, an associate of|my daddy's, Clyde Jessamin...
...once crossed a man on|some kind of real-estate deal.
Jessamin's daughter took ill with somethin'|the doctors couldn't make heads or tails of.
All they could do was shoot her full|of morphine, the pain was so bad.
She died, five minutes past|midnight, on her weddin' day.
And when they did an autopsy|to try and figure it out...
...all they could find was a bunch of snakes|squirming around inside her belly.
- Sounds like an old wives' tale.|- No, ma'am. It's not.
You see...
...l'm the one who was supposed to marry her.
- Think he's telling the truth?|- Until I can figure out why he'd lie, yeah.
He's superstitious, and superstition|breeds fear. It's what voodoo is all about.
It's as irrational as avoiding|a crack in the sidewalk.
Why would he be trying to avoid Chester?
Wait a second!
Stop! I'm not gonna hurt you!
It's OK, I'll get him.
Can I get you anything else, sir?
Just get the door.
- I'm sorry, I'm having my breakfast.|- That's all right, we already ate.
I understand you obtained a court order|yesterday to exhume Private Guttierez.
That's right.
I've filed a complaint with|the Justice Department.
His body was missing.|Stolen from his coffin, apparently.
Now you see what we're facing here.
What barbaric religion|would desecrate a grave?
We suspect it was an act of retaliation.
- For your mistreatment of the detainees.|- What the hell are you talkin' about?
Physical abuse of political refugees is a|prosecutable crime under international law.
It's Bauvais, isn't it? He's the one|you're gettin' this garbage from.
...nobody ever said this was a hotel,|but it's hardly a concentration camp.
- Then there is no policy of harassment?|- It's my men who are being harassed.
The UN, the relief organisations...
...they're all so busy protecting the rights of|refugees, nobody's looking out for my men!
Well, we'll let you finish.|Don't want your breakfast to get cold.
Wharton's left these people no choice but to|fight back with the only weapon they have.
There's a big difference between|nasty looks and raising the dead.
Not according to Private Dunham.
More scare tactics.
- Let me see that.|- Oh, it's nothing.
I don't think he's in any condition to talk.
That's right, Private, you don't think.|You follow orders.
- But, sir...|- Dismissed!
Ouvri barrière pou moi.
I want the secret.
Maybe you should tell me now,|while you can still talk.
Ma vie nan mains Bon Dieu.
No, Papaloi.
Your life is in my hands.
I was surprised to get your card.
I'd assumed our last contact...
...would be our last.
Why are you here?
Your investigation is faltering, Agent Mulder.
We've got a renegade Marine|violating human rights...
These people have no rights.
In 24 hours, all access to Folkstone|will be restricted to military personnel.
- No press. No third-party monitoring.|- What about Scully and me?
You'll be called back to Washington|on a priority matter.
They're making the camp invisible. Why?
In case you haven't noticed, Agent Mulder,|the Statue of Liberty is on vacation.
The new mandate says if you're|not a citizen, you'd better keep out.
Well, why hold 'em up?|Why not just repatriate them?
During our most recent involvement in Haiti,|three US soldiers took their own lives.
Two were under|Colonel Wharton's command.
Are you saying the military is|sanctioning Wharton's revenge?
These are innocent civilians. Some people|in Congress might have a problem with that.
By the time they get a committee together...'ll be as if none of this ever happened.
No, I've been on hold for half an hour.|I'm trying to locate a Private Dunham.
Mulder, I just got through|to Dunham's barracks.
Your door's unlocked.
Mulder, listen to this.|Dunham's been AWOL since last night...
Oh, God!
- Scully?|- Yeah.
I found him wandering around|outside. You all right?
It's Dunham.
When I found him...
...he had this in his hand.
- Do you recall leaving the hospital?|- I don't recall much of anything.
Except... feeling real heavy.
Like... like I'm asleep and I can't wake up.
Do you remember|killing Private Dunham?
All I remember is being there,|seeing him in all that blood.
Why did you sign the confession?
The private asked and I apprised him|of what you found at the crime scene.
Who else might it have been?
...can we have a word outside?
What exactly did you tell him?
If you're suggesting that|I coerced Private McAlpin...
I need to know that he signed|that confession voluntarily.
Of course he did.
Since his reappearance, has Private McAlpin|had any contact with Bauvais?
Not to my knowledge.
- We'd still like to speak with Bauvais.|- I'm afraid that's impossible.
- Why?|- Because he's dead.
Last night he... cut his wrists|with a bed spring.
I'll have the report sent to your motel,|along with the private's confession.
Since matters are being handled internally,|I'll assume your business here is finished.
What's wrong?
I'm fine. It's just a headache.
OK, Mrs McAlpin. We'll be 15 minutes.
First I thought I lost him.
As if that wasn't hard enough to deal with!
- Now they're saying he's killed Harry.|- He said it himself. He signed the confession.
I don't care. It doesn't make sense.|Jack and Harry were friends.
Mrs McAlpin, you said Private Dunham|came here last night. What did he want?
He was on his way to see you.
- For what reason?|- He wouldn't tell me.
He said if anything happened to him...
...I should give this to you.
He told me not to open it.
Luke's been in a mood since all this started.
It's almost like he knows what's going on.
I'll be right back.
It's OK, honey. I'm coming.
That's Bauvais.
And Wharton?
They must've known each other|when Wharton served in Haiti.
When in Rome...
Dunham and Guttierez both filed|complaints against Colonel Wharton.
They both cited incidents|of abuse: dates, times...
...look at this.
Check out the name on the dog tags.
Come with me, please.
Take the light out of my eyes.
- Where's Wharton?|- You'll find out soon enough.
He killed Bauvais. If you know about it,|you're an accessory to murder.
Shut up!
Bauvais got what he deserved. After|what he did to McAlpin and Guttierez...
- It wasn't Bauvais.|- What are you talking about?
Those men were about to testify against|Wharton, so he stopped them before they did.
If you don't believe us, look in the trunk.
This is what's left of Private Guttierez.
Now where's Bauvais' body?
We buried him...
...this afternoon... the municipal graveyard.
Au nom des saints... de la lune.
Au nom des saints... et de la lune.
Au nom des saints et des étoiles.
- What is it, Scully?|- I'm all right.
- You don't look all right.|- No, I'm... I'm fine. I'll catch up with you.
Just go get Wharton.
(man speaks Haitian)
Au nom des saints et des étoiles.|Au nom des saints et du vent.
Au nom des saints et de tempête!
Federal agent!
Drop the knife, Wharton.
Drop the knife! Do it!
(Bauvais speaking Haitian)
He who does evil, evil he will see.
(man speaking Haitian)
Are you OK?
I feel better than you look.
What happened?
I don't know.
He's dead.
Did you kill him?
It was Bauvais.
Here's the passenger manifest you asked for.
They're petitioning to have|Bauvais returned to Haiti.
Too bad it has to be in a box.
- Is this a complete list?|- As far as I know.
- There was a boy. Chester Bonaparte.|- Sure, Chester. Poor kid.
He died six weeks ago in that riot.
Move it, Wong.
Aaagh! Aaagh!
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