Scully slams the phone into the receiver and runs into the other room to put on her coat. Doggett follows, stammering that he doesn't think this is the best idea Scully's ever had in her entire life. "I need you to watch William, [Moronica]," Scully instructs. In the background, Moronica nods. Doggett insists that Scully at least consider bringing along some backup. "You said I had to trust someone, right? Well, that's what I'm doing," Scully says, and storms out. Doggett's all, "Yeah, but I meant me!"
Bus stop. Scully's brown suit? Smashing. Her cell phone rings, and she answers nervously. "Are you armed, Agent Scully?" She is. "And you're prepared to use your weapon, should anything go wrong?" Scully's all, huh? Michaud tells her that if she screws this up, he's going after her, so she needs to be prepare to shoot him or be shot. Then he tells her to do exactly as he says, and instructs her to get into a nearby car. Cut to surveillance footage of Scully doing just that. Okay, here's my question: how did the NSA get the cash and manpower to install cameras everywhere in Washington, DC? Do they have, like, an army of guys who leap out of unmarked vans in the dead of night to bolt tiny cameras to the ceiling of every coffee bar, rotisserie chicken joint, and Blockbuster Video store in town? No matter: Scully gets in the car, and Michaud tells her to drive off. "Right now!" he yells. She does, almost causing a twelve-car pile-up. "Is it absolutely necessary to get innocent people hurt?" Scully asks, but Michaud coolly reminds her that she's free to get out of the car anytime she wants. "I'm doing this for your own protection. And for Mulder's," he intones. Scully almost rolls her eyes.
Michaud has our formerly plucky heroine pull into an alley and park the car. The alley looks very much like the one in Fight the Future, but I suspect that's a bit too much to ask of the continuity folks at 1013. As instructed, Scully walks to the top of the alley and gets into the other car waiting for her there. The Tense Music of Who The Hell Knows What's Going On Here Anymore thonks loudly in the background. At the studio, Mark Snow eats another donut and idly flips through the pages of Juggs. Composing the score to the opening montage wiped him out for the week. Michaud tells Scully to get on the freeway and drive westward until he tells her to stop.
Dark. Driving. Dark. Driving. Dark. Finally, Michaud tells Scully to stop the car. How uncomfortable that must have been for her, driving all that way and holding a phone to her ear. Michaud should have at least left her a hands-free device on the passenger seat. Scully stops the car, looking around nervously. Michaud tells her to get out of the car, but to leave it running. She does. Then she goes around to the back of the car, watches the trunk open as if of its own accord, gets naked, and puts on the clothes she finds back there. All at Michaud's telephonic request. Scully says some stuff about it being the middle of nowhere and he says some stuff about there not being any middle of nowhere anymore (and I beg to differ, because I've driven from Los Angeles to San Francisco, and there are parts of central California which are, officially, the Middle of Nowhere).