The Eyes Have It By: Talamasca Rating: R Spoilers: None Setting: mid 6th season Synopsis: Mulder receives unearthly assistance in solving a series of gruesome child murders. Archivists: Archive as you wish, as long as my name and e-mail are included. Readers: Please feel free to contact me with any feedback. Thank you. DISCLAIMER: All X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. I am not affiliated with any of the above mentioned organizations, nor am I receiving profit or gain from my endeavors. Fort Collins, Colorado 8 March, 1998..........11:30 P.M. He sits uncomfortably on the granite-like surface of a motel bed, shoes off and tie loosened. Crime scene photos and forensic documents lie scattered about him completely obscuring the hideously ugly bedspread. An overturned pizza box and two empty soda cans litter the floor beside the bed. Evidence that Scully has once again come along for the ride. Special Agent Fox Mulder suspects, this time Dr. Dana Scully has been included more to keep an eye on him, than to actively contribute to the investigation. Mulder was grateful for Scully's presence. These last two days have been particularly hard for him. He'd all but forgotten how to distance himself from the disturbing images profiling a serial murderer manifests. Still, being 'on loan' to the Violent Crimes Unit was infinitely preferable to the mind numbing drudgery Assistant Director Kersh has been punishing him and Scully with for the last several months. Finally retiring to her own room to shower and turn in, his faithful partner and friend had admonished Mulder to turn off the lights and go to sleep. Ignoring most of Scully's instructions, per usual, Mulder's only concession had been to mute the television and rely on only the bedside table lamp for illumination. This case was indeed gruesome. A series of brutal child murders. Over a six month period, six little girls had been abducted, one per month, from playgrounds, day care centers, and in one instance the family home. Each of their lifeless bodies were discovered three days later. In impossibly public locations. One little girl had been placed in the lobby of a local bank. Another in the Greyhound Bus station. The killer was indeed sick, but at least the children had been spared one horror. Autopsies revealed no evidence of sexual contact, either prior to or post mortem. All six of the girls had been smothered. Forensic evidence suggested a pillow had been used. Fibers collected from the nose and mouth of the bodies indicated the same pillow had been used for all six murders. Then, the killer collected his trophies. He had removed the eyes of each and every one of his victims. The oldest girl had been seven years old. The youngest, only three. * * * Swimming up from the depths of slumber, Mulder feels eyes upon him. He becomes aware of another presence in the motel room. Lying perfectly still, the well trained agent waits for his vision to adjust to the darkness. Scanning the room....There! At the foot of the bed, a darker shape becomes visible amongst the shadows. A small figure stands absolutely motionless. Staring fixedly at him. Mulder slowly reaches for the lamp and hears... "Don't turn on the light." A child's voice, "Just listen." Mulder is shaken, "Wha..who are you?" He carefully pushes himself up to a sitting position, "It's very late. Where's your Mom? How in the world did you get in here?" The child impatiently demands, "Be quiet! I can't stay much longer. You have to listen to me." As she continues with her explanation, Mulder peers at the shadowy figure. Trying desperately for a glimpse of some identifying detail...the color and length of her hair, a repeated gesture or phrase, anything. Terror grips his heart as the girl's words finally penetrate his sleep fogged brain, "Hold on...what are you telling me? You know who the child killer is? You say know where he is, too?" The spectre at the foot of the bed nods somberly. Mulder asks again, "But, how? How could you possibly know?" "Because....he killed me....about an hour ago." * * * 9 March, 1998...0300 Scully is startled awake by persistent pounding on the door connecting Mulder's room with her own, "Hang on, Mulder! For heavens' sake! It's three o'clock in the morning!" She grumbles and stumbles across the room, wrestling on her bathrobe, "What is so incredibly important, it couldn't wait until daylight?" Mulder all but falls through the door in his agitation, "You are not going to believe this, Scully! She just appeared in my room! She told me who the killer is..." "Whoa, whoa...stop right there!" Scully points toward the bed, "Sit down, Mulder. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning. Who appeared in your room and how did she get there?" Mulder reluctantly takes a seat and glances sheepishly at his partner, "Don't say anything until I've finished. I know this sounds like a dream, but it was real. Okay? Just hear me out before you pass judgment. Please, Scully?" Scully hesitates, then nods, "Okay." Seating herself on the bed beside Mulder, she gives his leg a reassuring pat, "Just calm down and tell me what the heck is going on." Mulder shakes his head still not sure of how to describe what just occurred, "I was asleep. I'll admit that. But, I woke up, Scully! That's the most crucial thing for you to remember: I...Woke...Up." He stands and begins to pace the narrow confines of the motel room, "I felt someone staring at me and I woke up. Then I saw her! She was just standing there at the end of the bed! She said that she had something very important to tell me, but she wouldn't let me turn on the light." Mulder stops abruptly. Wheeling to face his partner, he grasps Scully's hands in his own, "She was a ghost, Scully. The apparition of a seven year old girl. Her name is..was Kyra Michelle Jorgensen. Kyra told me the killer's first name, what he looks like and described the house he lives in. She knew all of this, because he'd murdered her less than an hour before she appeared in my room!" Scully sits staring at her partner for a long moment. Her mouth opens, then closes it again. She stands and reaches up to gently press her palm against Mulder's forehead, "You don't feel feverish." Her hand drops back to her side, "You've not had any blows to the head recently." Narrowing her eyes, "You're absolutely positive you weren't dreaming? What you're saying, Mulder...it just doesn't seem possible. I know you believe it, but..." Mulder stares bleakly at the diminutive redhead, "I know how crazy it sounds, Scully! I know!" He implores her, "But it's the gospel truth. I'll swear on anything you hold sacred. I'll even take a polygraph test if you want." Placing his hand over his heart Mulder insists, "The spirit of Kyra Michelle Jorgensen appeared to me. She told me her killer's name is Mike. He is tall, thin, has light brown hair, and wears glasses." Mulder springs into motion and resumes his frenzied pacing, "Mike lives in a big house with an upstairs. He has a huge bird cage that covers almost half of the living room. Kyra said she didn't know what kind of birds were in the cage, but they were little and brown, and they sang a pretty song." Running his hands through his hair, Mulder's voice breaks as he finishes, "Mike held Kyra down on the living room couch and smothered her with a velvet throw pillow. She said she could still hear the birds singing as she died." Scully moves to Mulder's side, "Come on, partner." Wrapping her arm around his waist, she leads him back through the connecting door, "You need to rest. Even if what you say is true, there's nothing to be done about it right now." "But," Mulder tries unsuccessfully to interject. "No buts, Mulder," Scully commands. "You are going to sleep. You can't find Kyra's killer if you collapse from exhaustion and mental fatigue." Pushing Mulder back into bed and settling the covers over him, "Sleep now and we'll talk this over again in the morning." As she returns to her own room, Scully stops at the connecting door and turns to look at Mulder. She folds her arms across her chest, "Go to sleep, Mulder. You've done all you can for Kyra tonight." * * * Fort Collins, Colorado 9 March, 1998.......08:45 Seated across from Scully in a corner booth of the motel restaurant Mulder opines, "We'll have to come up with some sort of explanation." Chewing a huge bite of hash brown potatoes, "Or the locals are going to decide I deserve my nickname, Scully!" Waving his hands in the air, Mulder looks disgusted as he continues, "Look out! Spooky Mulder has done it again, folks. He knows the name of the latest murder victim, before there even is a latest murder victim!" Pushing his plate away, Mulder asks softly, "What are we going to tell them, Scully?" Scully smiles, "That's the easy part, Mulder. First, we request all missing person reports from the last two days. Weeding out any that don't fit the parameters, you then make an 'educated' guess." Scully hesitates. She declines to add the obvious, "If it's actually there," before finishing, "You will select Kyra's report as the most logical target to focus on." Tapping her fork on the side of her plate, Scully chews her lip for a moment, "The bird cage is going to be our best bet for identifying the killer, but I haven't thought of a way to work it into the investigation, yet." Glancing hopefully at her partner, "Any suggestions...Spooky?" * * * Assistant Director Jackson Washburn waits in the lobby of the Fort Collins field office, as Mulder and Scully arrive, "Good morning, Agents." Offering handshakes and hot coffee, Washburn's face resumes its worried expression after pleasantries are exchanged, "I hoped you would have something for me by now." Before Mulder can open his mouth to speak, Scully announces, "Agent Mulder suggests we examine any missing person reports filed within the last forty eight hours. We might be able to get an idea of who the next victim will be." Washburn nods, "Already requested them. The local P.D. should be faxing copies of the reports, as we speak." Leading the way, Washburn walks down a narrow hallway, "Next door on the right. Conference room." He opens the door and flips a light switch. The room contains a massive oak conference table surrounded by swivel chairs. A computer and combination printer/fax/copy machine grace the table top, as do several telephones and a remote control. A television and VCR are comfortably nestled on a wheeled cart near the room's heavily draped window. Mulder smiles, "All the comforts of home, sir. Thanks." He takes a seat after lifting several sheets of paper from the growing pile being regurgitated from the belly of the fax machine. Looking pointedly at Mulder before turning back to Washburn, Scully announces, "I would like to poke around one or two of the crime scenes, if you don't mind, Sir." She moves to stand next to Mulder and leans over to place her own laptop computer in the chair beside him. She whispers, "I'll stop by a couple of pet shops while I'm out. Maybe I can find birds like Kyra described to you." * * * Kyra was third from the top in the stack of reports Mulder selected. Discovering concrete evidence of last night's ghostly visitation was enough to cause Mulder's hands to tremble. He felt faint, unaware for several moments that Jack Washburn was speaking to him again, "What? I'm sorry, sir. Would you mind repeating what you just said?" Washburn eyes Mulder with growing concern, "I said: You look like you've just seen a ghost! Are you sure you're all right, Agent Mulder?" Mulder nods slowly, "I think so." Passing Washburn the thin sheet of foolscap with a still shaking hand, "I think this is the one, Sir. Kyra Michelle Jorgensen. Seven years old." Mulder draws a ragged breath before continuing, "The Jorgensen girl walks home from school every afternoon. The eight block route requires two street crossings and twenty to twenty five minutes for Kyra to reach her front yard. The day before yesterday, she left the school building same as always. Only this particular afternoon, Kyra Michelle Jorgensen never made it home." * * * 9 March, 1998......10:37am Scully putters around the most recent crime scene, which is already four weeks old. The Greyhound bus station is a high traffic area most of the time, but curiosity seekers and the media have turned it into a three ring circus. Any evidence missed by the local agents, has long been destroyed. Giving it up as a lost cause, Scully locates a telephone booth and begins to peruse the yellow pages. She locates three pet shops in the downtown area. Casting a furtive glance about her, she tears the page from the telephone book, folds it and slips it into the pocket of her jacket. Climbing into the rental car, Scully takes a moment to get her bearings before pulling away from the curb. She eases into traffic and drives to the first pet shop on her list. Scully flashes her badge as she approaches the store clerk, "Hello, sir. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. I would like to ask you a few questions that might help us in an investigation we are pursuing." The short, heavy set balding man behind the counter turns to examine Scully's badge with particular interests. He smiles broadly revealing ill fitting dentures,"How do you do, Agent Scully? I'm Joseph K. Cantos. I'm more than willing to do all I can to aide the FBI." Cantos blusters self importantly, "Now, how may I be of assistance?" Scully mentally rolls her eyes, before beginning the interrogation. * * * Jack Washburn reads the missing person's report carefully, "It's a place to start, at least. Good work, Mulder. I'll get someone over to the Jorgensen home, right away." He heads toward the conference room door, "You stay here a bit longer. You look like you could use a little time to yourself." Mulder nods and smiles weakly, "I'll join you in a few minutes, sir. Thanks." After Washburn leaves the room, Mulder lowers his head to rest on the table's cool surface. He breathes raggedly for several seconds. His heartbeat has nearly returned to normal and he no longer feels so much like passing out. "Did you find him yet?" Mulder's head snaps up, "Kyra?" He whips his head back and forth, scanning the room for the spectral child, "Is it you? Are you here with me, Kyra?" "I'm here," the small voice answers from behind the startled agent. "Did you catch Mike?" "Not yet, Kyra," Mulder begins, "Is there something, anything else you can tell me, to help me find Mike?" He peers around slowly, "Where are you, Kyra? Will you stand where I can see you?" "I don't want you to see me," the apparition answers pitifully. "Mike is trying to decide where he's going to leave me. He wants to pick the most perfect place. He's looking through the paper and has news on the TV." "How do you know this, Kyra?" Mulder questions the child's ghost gently, "If you are here with me, how can you know what Mike is doing?" A low moan raises the hair on the back of Mulder's neck. "Don't cry, Kyra. I'm sorry. Please? Don't cry." "I can see what Mike is doing, because my eyes are still there. They're looking at him. They're stuck in a jar in a cabinet. There are a bunch more jars of eyes. Not just mine. You gotta catch Mike before he does this to any more little girls!" Kyra begins to weep brokenly, then her sobs slowly fade away. "Kyra?" But Mulder knows he will receive no answer. Kyra has left him again. * * * Fort Collins, Colorado 9 March, 1998...12:20 p.m. Scully returns to the field office, anxious and excited to tell Mulder about the information she has gathered. Locating A.D. Washburn, she immediately asks after her partner's whereabouts. "He never left the conference room, Agent Scully." Washburn goes on to explain Mulder's reaction to the missing persons report, "I told him to take a few minutes and collect himself, but that was almost two hours ago!" Shaking his head, "I didn't want to bother Agent Mulder, but I'm glad you're back. I was really beginning to worry." Scully nods and thanks A.D. Washburn before hurrying down the hall toward the meeting room. Knocking softly on the door, "Mulder? Is everything all right? Are you all right?" She proceeds inside without waiting for an answer. Mulder spins away from the window crying frantically, "Scully! I've got to stop this bastard!" His hands clench spasmodically, and he grinds his teeth in frustration, "I've been trying for two goddamned hours to get a handle on this guy. To get inside his head. To see things the way he does." Warning bells immediately begin to sound in Scully's head, "Mulder? What happened while I was gone?" Mulder's gaze slides from Scully's face to study his still tightly clenched fists, "Nothing happened, Scully. That's the problem! I can't get this son of a bitch Mike in my sights, which means he stays free to kill more little girls!" She approaches cautiously, "It's me, Mulder. Your partner. I know when you're lying, and I know when something is wrong with you. Right now...something is terribly wrong with you." Carefully placing a hand on Mulder's elbow, Scully leads him back to the conference table and helps him into a chair, "I'll ask you again, Mulder. What happened while I was gone?" Propping his elbows on the table, Mulder buries his face in his hands, "She was here, Scully." His voice muffled by his palms, "Kyra appeared to me again. She told me she's able to see what Mike is doing, because her eyes are sitting in a jar on a cabinet shelf. She's watching his every move." Shoulders hunched, body held rigid against the almost overwhelming despair, "Kyra begged me to catch Mike before he hurts anyone else." Scully sighs, "Oh, Mulder." She squeezes his arm gently before tentatively stating, "I'm going to ask you something. I want you to hear me out before you answer me. Deal?" Mulder slowly lifts his eyes to meet the concerned gaze of his partner, "Deal, I guess. What is it, Scully?" She sits on the edge of the conference table, "Is it even remotely possible, you identify so strongly with this case because of Samantha?" Mulder's face falls, "Kyra Jorgensen appeared to me twice, Scully. If you don't believe me, I have no way to prove it to you." He strikes the table top with his fist, "I don't know why she chose me, but it has absolutely nothing to do with my sister!" Scully locks eyes with her partner, "You're absolutely positive, Mulder?" Mulder nods and quickly turns away, nearly overcome by the compassion in her voice, "I'm positive, Scully. For some reason I've picked up on one of the victims, instead of the killer this time." Scully stands and walks to the window giving Mulder a chance to compose himself, "I talked to a couple of pet shop owners, Mulder." She turns back toward the table and folds her arms across her chest, "The little brown birds are finches. Probably male African Silver bills from the way you described their singing." Once she's sure Mulder's emotions are under control, she approaches the table smiling at her partner, "The owner of the pet shop said the bird cage you described would have to be a custom job. He gave me the name of a fellow right here in town who specializes in made to order metalwork." Mulder slow smile warms Scully's heart, and she decides not to drag out her good news, "I have an appointment to interview said metal worker, Thomas Portman, at four o'clock this afternoon." Mulder chuckles dryly, "I knew there was a reason I picked you as my partner, Scully!" Pushing his chair away from the table, Mulder stands and straightens his tie. Slipping back into his suit jacket and smoothing his hair, "Think I should go out there and do a little bit of work, before you solve this case all by yourself, partner?" Scully frowns, "I think you should probably go back to the motel and lie down, partner. But I doubt you care very much about my medical opinion, right Mulder?" "Right, Dr. Scully," Mulder smiles,"I'm fine." He waits by the door, holding it for Scully to step into the hallway ahead of him, "Really. So, stop worrying about me. Please?" * * * March 9, 1998...3:30 pm Fidgeting and fretting, Mulder seems unable to concentrate on anything. Finally, Scully glances at her watch and announces, "It's 3:30, Mulder. I'm leaving for my appointment with Thomas Portman. Would you like to come along?" She gathers her purse and jacket, preparing to leave the field office. Mulder leaps to his feet, "Yes. God, yes!" His long stride leads him out of the field office and into the parking lot. He turns as he hears Scully's voice far behind him. "You'd better slow down now, Mulder! No way am I going to run to keep up with you!" Scully lifts her arm and shakes the car keys in the air, once she has her partner's attention, "You don't have a clue where we're going, and the car's locked, remember?" Mulder grins sheepishly and waits for Scully to catch up, "Sorry. I didn't mean to take off and leave you, Scully." He falls into step with her and walks to the rental car at a much slower pace, "Where are we going, anyway?" Scully unlocks the car and climbs into the driver's seat, "It's a private shop, Mulder. Cantos says Portman lives right next door, in an old apartment building. That's all I know. I have nothing but a name and address on the back of Cantos' business card." Turning the key in the ignition, Scully backs carefully from the parking space, "The man at the pet shop, Cantos? He was a real piece of work!" Shaking her head, "He must think he's the most important person alive! He even had the nerve to ask me out, Mulder! Cantos thought we might 'grab a bite, after I knock off work for the evening'!" She sniffs indignantly, "Can you imagine?" Mulder wisely keeps his mouth shut and glances out the passenger window to hide his smile. Navigating downtown Fort Collins, Scully locates the address. She pulls the car over in front of a four story brick building, "Looks harmless enough, don't you think?" She parks on the street and climbs out of the car, "Are you coming, Mulder?" Mulder unfolds his lanky frame from the passenger seat, "This guy, Cantos? He's the one who put you onto Portman. Right?" He eyes the building speculatively, "Did he act suspicious at all, Scully? You said he creeped you out. Did he do anything out of the ordinary, besides try to make time with a federal agent?" Scully gives Mulder a look, "I don't remember saying he creeped me out. Mulder!" She takes a tentative step toward the building's entrance, "Cantos dug Portman's business card out of a Rolodex and read the address to me. I didn't actually see the card, though. I just wrote down the what Cantos told me." Mulder nods, "Did you speak with Portman? Or, did Cantos set up this appointment, too?" Giving her partner another look, "Cantos made the call, but he and I both spoke with Portman. After Cantos explained his reason for calling, he handed me the phone." Mulder nods again, "I think we're being set up, Scully. It might not hurt to call for back up." Scully stares at her partner, "Back up?" She glances again at the brick building, "Why, Mulder? When have you ever waited for back up in your entire career with the FBI?" Mulder smirks, "Okay. Why don't we compromise? Call Washburn, and tell him where we are. If we don't make it back to the field office, he'll have a place to start looking for us." Digging into her handbag, Scully searches for her cell phone, "I'll agree to that much. It's not a bad idea, actually." She leans against the car's fender and dials the field office, "Special Agent Dana Scully. I'd like to speak with A.D. Washburn, please." As Scully completes the check in call, Mulder scopes out the building's exterior. He notes a fire escape on the west wall of the structure with a retractable stairwell, currently level with the second story windows. Turning to Scully, "Ready?" He unbuttons his suit jacket and removes the restraining strap holding his service revolver snugly in its holster. They walk into the building and move directly to the elevators. Scully reads the address from the business card once again, "Second floor. Apartment 211." She pushes the button and they wait nervously for the doors to slide open. As they exit the elevator car, Mulder points to his left, "This way, Scully. Odd numbers on the left and evens on the right." They approach the door to 211 cautiously. Mulder removes his badge from his coat pocket, as Scully knocks on the door. When her knuckles make contact the door swings inward. She looks at Mulder before calling into the apartment, "Hello? Thomas Portman? We're from the FBI, sir. May we come in?" She crouches slightly before entering the apartment. Immediately she spies a body lying face down on the floor of the front room, "Mulder!" She drops to the floor, to feel the man's neck for a pulse, "He's dead!" She examines the body as thoroughly as possible without moving him, "I don't see any blood. I don't see any visible cause of death, Mulder." Mulder helps Scully roll the body onto it's back, "He's been strangled or smothered, Scully!" Staying low, Mulder hurries to the open window, to see a man leap from the fire escape ladder, hit the ground running and round the corner, before Mulder can even shout for him to stop, "Damn!" He turns back to Scully, "Get this guy identified and autopsied. I'm going after our alleged perpetrator!" He rushes from the apartment, "I'll call you if I find him, Scully!" Scully calls after her partner, "Mulder! Get back here!" After receiving no response, she dials 9ll, and A.D. Washburn. Scully contemplates ratting Mulder out, but at the last moment doesn't mention his breach of Bureau policy to Jackson Washburn. * * * Mulder races from the building as fast as his long runner's legs will carry him, but the fleeing man had too much of a lead. As he hits the sidewalk, Mulder reholsters his weapon and spins in a circle, trying to look in all directions at once. Swallowing the groan of frustration, he picks a path and follows it. He approaches Portman's Metal Shop and is surprised to find the door unlocked. Entering the establishment, Mulder calls out, "Hello? Anyone here?" Receiving no answer, Mulder proceeds to search the shop thoroughly. He finds a framed photographed perched on a shelf behind the sales counter: Two men smiling directly at the camera, arms wrapped comfortably around one another's shoulders. The man on the left was most certainly Thomas Portman, the dead body Scully was examining this very moment. The other man had to be a brother. The resemblance was striking. He and Thomas Portman could have been twins. Sliding the photo out of it's frame, Mulder pockets it with only a slight twinge of guilt, before turning to leave Portman's Metal Works. Suddenly, Mulder feels an enormous pain in the back of his head. Before losing consciousness and falling to the floor, he catches a blurry glimpse of a man's legs exiting the store. He wakes slowly, nauseated and stiff from lying on the floor. Immediately Mulder knows he is no longer alone, "Hello?" His voice a dry croak, "Is someone here? I'm injured. I need help." "Mike hit you," Kyra states. "He used one of the metal pipes to hit you on your head. He didn't put the pillow on your face though," she puzzles. "Kyra?" Mulder pushes up from the floor, "Where are you, Kyra? Come closer. I want to see you. Please?" Kyra continues as if Mulder had not spoken, "Mike hurt his brother. Tommy was very angry with Mike. They had a big fight, and Mike hit Tommy, too. Only, he put the pillow over Tommy's face. He made sure Tommy was dead, before he ran away." Mulder shakes his head gently, trying to reduce his stupor and assimilate what Kyra is telling him, "How do you know these things, Kyra? How could you know that Mike and Tommy were fighting?" Kyra begins to whimper, "Cause my eyes is in Mike's pocket. He took 'em with him, when he come to talk to Tommy. He was real mad at his brother, and wanted to make sure Tommy didn't tell you nothing to get Mike in trouble!" Mulder tries to placate the little spirit, "Kyra? Don't cry, okay? I know you're very sad, but I need you to keep talking to me. I can't catch Mike, without your help. Understand?" Kyra seems less distressed, "What do you want me to say?" Mulder licks his lips, "I want you to look around, Kyra. Can you tell me where Mike is, right now?" Trying to turn his head, Mulder becomes so dizzy he has to lie back down, "Move closer, Kyra. I can't see you, sweetheart." Kyra ignores Mulder's request, "Mike is running. He is going back to his house." Mulder tries to curb his excitement, "Can you see the street, Kyra? Can you see a street sign? Maybe a store or restaurant that can tell us where Mike is?" The spirit child continues to fret and whimper, "I don't know..I can't see...uh..uh..sign! I see a sign. W...I...L..L..O..W! That's the letters on the sign! Catch Mike! That's where he is!" Mulder shouts Kyra's name repeatedly, but receives no answer. Once his head has stopped swimming, the injured agent uses the service counter to pull himself upright. Vision dimming and swaying on his feet, Mulder shuffles to the front entrance of the Metal Shop. Stumbling out onto the sidewalk he leans against the building, breathing hard and trying to regain his strength for the final twenty foot lurch to the rental car. "Mulder!" Scully spies her partner and rushes to catch him before he hits the pavement, "What happened? I've been looking for you nearly half an hour, Mulder!" Hanging onto consciousness by a thread, "Mike hit me from behind, Scully. The killer. Michael Portman, brother of the recently deceased Thomas Portman." Leaning heavily on Scully's shoulder, Mulder manages to stay on his feet long enough to reach the vehicle. Breathing heavily, "Kyra came to me again, Scully. Portman has her eyes in his pocket. He's running down Willow Street, but that's all she could tell me." Scully fires the ignition, "It doesn't matter where Michael Portman is right now, Mulder. Because I'm taking you to the hospital. You're not going to talk me out of it this time, either." She pulls into traffic, "I called AD Washburn. He should be here soon and can give me directions to the closest emergency room." Mulder gasps, "You don't understand, Scully! Portman's looking for some place to dump Kyra's body, right now! This is the perfect opportunity to catch him. If I can just figure out how to call Kyra back, she be able to lead us directly to her murderer!" Scully sighs and shakes her head, "Why do I let you talk me into these absurd situations, Mulder!?! You realize I'm the one who is going to have to try and convince Washburn to authorize this? He's going to expect a reasonable as well as convincing argument for not sending your butt straight to the ER for a CAT Scan and neurological workup!" Mulder leans back against his seat in relief, "Thanks, Scully. You don't have to explain anything, though. Let's just get the hell out of here. We don't have to wait for Washburn. We'll come up with an excuse, after we've caught Michael Portman." Resigning herself to once again doing Mulder's bidding, Scully pulls away from the curb, "Where are we supposed to go, Mulder? Just drive around and hope Michael Portman happens to run in front of the car?" Mulder smiles, "It could happen!" He closes his eyes and presses a hand against his forehead, "If only I could summon Kyra, instead of just waiting for her to decide to appear!" Scully's anger drains away at the tone of desperation in her partner's voice, "Try and rest, Mulder. I'll head back toward the pet shop. We'll talk with Cantos. Maybe he'll have some idea where to look for Michael Portman." * * * March 9, 1998.......6:08 pm Scully shakes Mulder's shoulder, "Wake up, Mulder. We're here." Unbuckling her shoulder and lap belts, Scully checks for oncoming traffic before exiting the driver's door and rounding the front of the car to step onto the curb. She opens the passenger door and helps Mulder out, "Are you sure you can walk, Mulder? You're so pale!" Mulder gives Scully a pained look, "I'm fine, Mom. Let's go see what Cantos has to say. And stop worrying about me! Okay?" Lurching forward, Mulder staggers toward the storefront, "This guy Cantos...you think he's playing straight with you, Scully? I'd rather not walk into another trap, if it's all the same to you." Scully seriously considers Mulder's question, "He's too vain and self important to be hiding anything, Mulder. Cantos thinks much too highly of himself to keep a secret of this magnitude for any length of time. He'd have to tell someone he knows the identity of the serial murderer just for the ego stroke!" Mulder nods, "Fine. Let's go find out what he does know." Scully opens the door to the pet shop for Mulder to enter ahead of her, "Mr. Cantos? It's Agent Scully. I've brought my partner, Agent Mulder to speak with you." They hear a resounding crash from the back room and an cry of pain. Both agents draw their weapons as Scully calls again, "Mr. Cantos? Are you all right, sir?" Moving as quickly as his spinning head will allow, Mulder heads toward the back of the store, "This is Special Agent Mulder with the FBI. My partner and I have our weapons trained on the door marked 'Employees Only'. You need to come out now. Place your hands on your head, and come out slowly." The door bursts open as Cantos' lifeless body comes hurling out toward the surprised agents. Mulder stumbles trying to avoid being knocked down by the falling corpse. Scully darts past, nimbly leaping over Cantos. She quickly leaves Mulder's limited field of vision by flying through the door into the back room. "Stop right there! Turn around slowly and keep your hands where I can see them!" Scully assumes a shooter's crouch, instantly making her body less of a target. Mulder scrambles to keep his feet and pass the obstruction Cantos' body presents. He wisely chooses not to call out, rather than risk drawing Scully's attention thus endangering his partner's life. He startles and nearly falls as he hears shots fired, "Scully!" Mulder enters the small employee's area to find Scully still crouched, her service revolver smoking. A man lies face down near and door leading outside the building, "Are you okay, Scully?" Slowly straightening, "Yeah...yes, Mulder. I'm fine. He started coming at me. I told him to stop, but he just kept coming." Mulder staggers to the downed man. Using the toe of his shoe to nudge the man's shoulder before kneeling beside the body, Mulder manages to turn it over by himself. The effort expends what is left of his reserved energy. He states dully, "It's Michael Portman." Pulling the picture from his coat pocket, Mulder holds it out to Scully with a shaking hand, "I found this in the Metal Shop, before Portman knocked me out and made his escape." Systematically searching the dead man's clothing, Mulder's face pales even more, "Here they are, Scully." He takes a small glass jar from Portman's coat, "Kyra's eyes." Swallowing over the huge lump in his throat, Mulder finishes in a quavering voice, "I guess we've solved the case, huh?" Scully moves to stand beside him, "I'm sorry, Mulder. Kyra's already dead. Even if we'd taken Portman alive, you still couldn't save her. You knew that, didn't you?" She places her hand under Mulder's arms, "Come on, Mulder. Let me help you. Let's get you up, and get out of here. I need some fresh air." Relying more on Scully's strength than his own, Mulder struggles to his knees. He stares blindly up at his partner before groping to wrap his arms around her waist. Burying his face in Scully's chest, Mulder weeps out his grief, frustration and disappointment. * * * Washburn obtained all the appropriate warrants, before dispatching a forensics team to the address stated on Michael Portman's driver's license. The mutilated body of Kyra Michelle Jorgensen, and jars containing the eyes of Portman's previous six victims were all discovered within the first ten minutes of their arrival. Scully's discharge of a service weapon, and subsequent mortal wounding of Michael Portman was determined to be self defense, and totally within the guidelines of accepted protocol while dealing with a dangerous or armed suspect. It was a righteous kill, and everyone in the field office insisted they would have done things exactly the same way. Mulder and Scully received the highest commendations from the Assistant Director, and no mention was made of what would ordinarily be deemed a serious breech of Department Policies and Procedures. * * * * March 10, 1998. 9:30 am As the two agents pack their meager belongings into carry on bags, Scully comments on Mulder's reticence, "Are you ever going to talk about it, Mulder? It might make you feel better, just to share what you're feeling." Mulder drops heavily to sit on the bed, rubbing the receding lump on the back of his head, "I just hoped she'd come to me one more time, Scully. I would love to talk with Kyra before we leave....simply to tell her we...you got Mike, and no other little girls are going to suffer because of him." Moving to sit beside her partner, Scully wraps an arm around his waist, "She knows, Mulder. Kyra's at peace, too. That's why she hasn't come back. Kyra's finally moved on, partner. She's where she belongs, now. Kyra Michelle will never have to worry about being hurt or frightened again." Mulder's smile trembles slightly and his eyes are suspiciously bright, "Do you really think so, Scully? I'd really love to believe that." "I not only think so, Mulder, I know so," Scully smiles and takes Mulder's hand in her own. Squeezing tightly, "And you helped her to find her way." Scully hesitates for a moment, "I didn't tell you about this, last night...but while we went outside the back door of the pet shop..do you remember it, Mulder? You were pretty foggy by that point. It was just before we loaded you into the ambulance." Mulder nods slowly, "I remember being strapped onto that damned jump cot. Why? What about it, Scully?" She draws a deep breath and speaks very softly, "The back door opened onto a connecting street, Mulder. I looked at the street sign, as the ambulance was pulling around the corner....it was Willlow Street, partner." She squeezes Mulder's hand once more, "Kyra led you right to her murderer after all, Mulder." End