University of Washington Seattle, Washington 9:40 am Dr. Kalis was working at a lab computer when the agents found his lab. Standing to greet them, Kalis introduced himself and indicated that he would be glad to give them any information that might pertain to the killings. "I mean, it's pretty scary knowing that some guy's out there killing random people - the next victim could easily be someone you know," Kalis mused out loud as evidence to his helpfulness. Scully nodded but remained unconvinced that Kalis would actually be able to tell them anything of use - but there was no harm in trying. "Dr. Kalis, do you have any knowledge of biochemical weapons that can be completely masked on a tox screen?" she asked. "Why? Is that what this case involves?" Kalis asked. "Actually, we're not certain about anything yet - it's just a possibility," Scully replied. "But do you know anything about his type of weapon? Is it even possible to mask such a decisive killing agent from a in depth tox screen?" Kalis looked blankly at the agents - for all his rhetoric, he didn't seem to offering up much help. "Um, I'm not sure about that," he finally replied. "I suppose that it would be possible, but creating such a precise combination…well, it would be difficult to say the least." "So what you're saying is that, if it is a biochemical weapon being used and then wiped, it's no basement lab geek who's doing it," Mulder asked. Kalis shrugged again. "Well… I suppose you could say that…" he answered noncommittally. Shaking her head in annoyance, Scully turned, ready to end the extraordinarily unenlightening interview. "Thanks for your time, Dr. Kalis," she said with only the mildest hint of sarcasm. "Let's go, Mulder." ****** University District Streets Seattle, Washington 10:14 am "That was weird, Mulder," she said when they were back battling Seattle traffic. Mulder agreed. "Yeah - straight from Mr. Eager Beaver to reluctant teenager mode … what do you think?" "Well, obviously he knows something he's not telling us - if only we could find out what he was doing for the government…" "Maybe the gunmen can help us out on that one," Mulder suggested. Scully nodded. "I was hoping they might get us some classified records but…" "But?" Mulder grinned, already knowing what she had been thinking. "But nothing," she replied, dismissing the question. "But you wanted me to ask so that you're not caught owing them a favour," Mulder said, answering his own question. Blushing just a little at how easily Mulder read her thoughts and motives, Scully didn't even bother arguing with his astute observation, though she did take the time to flash him a piercing look that would have been painful had he not felt the playfulness behind it. "Better watch out, Scully, or else you'll be owing me that favour," he countered in the same light-hearted manner. "Mulder, I don't even want to think about that and I don't want you thinking about it either." One look at his grin, however, and she could see his imagination racing away. Grinning, Scully admitted to herself that she probably would enjoy and favour Mulder might ask of her - even if it did involved fluke worms - though she was pretty sure it wouldn't. ****** University of Washington Seattle, Washington 10:26 am Though usually a very relaxed person, Dr. Kalis was considerable agitated after the agents' visit. He had always felt that his past would catch up with him sometime and now it seemed imminent. Though he was pretty sure the fibbies didn't know much yet - if they did then why would they bother asking him? - but the mere fact that they were questioning along those lines … it was not good. Within minutes of the agents' visit - after making sure that they weren't coming back - Kalis was on a secure line dialling a number he hadn't used in years but remembered easily. The voice that answered was also as familiar as it had been years ago. "It's Kalis - the FBI were just here. They might be onto the project - you should probably warn your people," he said, getting straight to the point. "What were their names?" asked the anonymous sinister voice on the other end. "Mulder and Scully," Kalis replied nervously. "It will be taken care of." Click. Kalis shuddered as he hung up the phone. It had been so long - he had thought he was free, that against all odds, he had escaped their grasp. However, deep inside he had always known that no one ever really escapes their long-reaching grasp - through some tricky manoeuvring he had come closer than most but, clearly from the situation at hand, he was once again obligated to them. It was not a nice position to be in. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and decided to make it a short day - after the recent events he needed a bit of time to himself to reflect on his past and his future. He had done what he was obligated to do and he hoped it would be enough and that it would be the last time he had to think about the project. Silently, he wished the FBI agents the immense amount of luck they would need to destroy the project, to destroy his past. He had called to guarantee his survival when they found out about the breach in security, about the FBI's suspicions - as they eventually would have - but he really wanted nothing more than for the entire project to finally disappear. 'Someday,' he thought grimly. 'They aren't perfect - someday they'll get what's coming." Sarcastically grinning at his wishful thinking, he wondered how long the FBI agents had to live. ****** Unknown Location 10:36 am The tall, well-built man dressed for battle in army fatigues listened gravely to the soft but commanding voice. "Yes sir, I understand," he said seriously. "We'll take care of the situation." Hanging up the phone, he immediately barked out orders in an authoritative voice. "Emergency meeting at fourteen hundred. There has been a breach in security." ****** Coroner's Office Seattle, Washington 10:54 am "You know Scully, as much as I'd like to join you…" "But three week old bodies are your favourite, Mulder." "I know - it's so hard to pull myself away but… duty calls - I have an idea I want to follow up on." "Well, as long as you're not just being squeamish." "Me? Squeamish? After all these years you sure don't know me very well, Scully." Scully-look followed by Scully-smile. ****** Unknown Location 10:41 am "There has been a possible breach of security. It will have to be rectified immediately," the leader of the group stated severely to his men. The five men nodded seriously though two looked slightly more nervous than the others. These two were slightly built and dressed casually in contrast to the others who filled XL army uniforms quite readily. "The research will continue as before," the leader continued, addressing the group but indicating towards the two smaller me. "While the others deal with the problem." The three military-standard men nodded gravely but not without a certain gleam of excitement in their eyes. A new mission was always something to look forward to - another way to prove their loyalty and usefulness to the group. "Two FBI agents - Mulder and Scully - may have some information about the project. We do not as yet know that they know - or if they know anything at all. However, we know that they suspect and that is unacceptable. Our mission now is to find out what they know and to stop them from uncovering the project." "Are we to remove the threats, sir?" asked an eager young blonde in camouflage. "No, this mission is to gather information which will require the cooperation of one of these agents. Simple removal will not do - we have to find out how much they know and how much evidence they have before we can start eliminating the problems. Therefore, the mission is clear - bring one of these agents in for questioning… I would suggest the female, Scully, - she should be easier to grab and to break. And more enjoyable when the time comes." The leader finished his instructions off with a nod that sent the three men into hasty preparations. They had to be perfect - that was their role in the project and one mistake could cost them everything they enjoyed in working with such a professional group. The leader watched as his men planned and discussed the next step. They were clear, meticulous, and cold- blooded. Exactly what he wanted, exactly what was necessary. Allowing himself a slight leer of satisfaction, he attempted to stymie his growing excitement and anticipation in having a 'guest' brought in. He hadn't used his particular talents in interrogation in awhile and was anxious to meet this FBI agent who might know too much about their dirty secret. ****** Coroner's Office Seattle, Washington 8:10 pm He was back to pick her up at eight - after nine gruelling hours of dead bodies and endless tests for her and seven easy hours of reading and thinking for him. "Find anything?" he asked as the tiredly slipped into the passenger seat. Nodding wearily, she smiled wanly. "Yeah, but I don't know what." "What do you mean?" "There's some anomaly in the chemical structure in all the samples of brain tissue but it's unlike anything I've seem before and I couldn't find any other information on it in any journals or online databases," she explained as they wove their way through traffic back towards their hotel. "I'll follow up on it tomorrow I guess but I don't think there's much chance in getting any official records on this. What about your 'idea'? Did you find anything?" Mulder grinned. "I think I got a link - how all the victims were connected." "How?" Scully asked, again amazed at what her partner could pull out of thin air. "Well, I was thinking - no connections except that they all might have needed some extra money and people that need money usually look in the classifieds… So I checked out the local newspapers' records and five out of the six victims had subscriptions to the Seattle Times. And look at what's in the classifieds - permanently listed starting just over three weeks ago." Scully picked up the paper and searched through the classifieds, scanning quickly for what her partner was so excited about. "I don't think I see it, Mulder - what are you talking… oh wait - I think I got it. Need some cash? Subjects needed for routine medical testing of pre-market drugs. Safety guaranteed. Interested applicants call 555-2214. Must be able to spend periods of two to four days at a time at medical complex for duration of tests. $1000 for each session guaranteed." "You got it." "Do you really think this is the link, Mulder? I mean it could easily just be a coincidence - and I'm sure that more than six people have called in over three weeks. So why only six victims?" "I don't know - maybe they're picky. But I'm pretty sure this is it - I called some friends an relatives of the victims and all six of them had recently started spending weekends away from home. I'd say that makes a pretty solid link. Scully nodded. "It sounds right, Mulder - but why the hell didn't someone catch this before? These people would have just acquired some extra money and were spending weekends away - both could easily be related to suspicious deaths - did this not occur to anyone else?" "I don't think they were looking for the connection and not all the friends and relatives mentioned either fact until I asked specifically. It didn't seem suspicious to them and no one was asking the right questions - you know how it is." Scully sighed - she certainly did know how it was but sometimes it was just so frustrating to put up with. "C'mon Scully, cheer up - dinner's on me," Mulder said as he pulled into the parking lot and glanced at his slightly dejected-looking partner. Eight hours with the dead never did anyone much good. "I don't know, Mulder," she answered, still not moving. "I'm not sure I can stay conscious long enough for dinner." Mulder shook his head in mock-exasperation. "Well, don't say I never offer… C'mon Scully, you really have to get up." Groaning more out of principle than exhaustion, she let Mulder help her out of the car and guide her tired body to her room. "Thanks, Mulder," she said upon arrival. "I'm beat - I'm going to take a bath and go to bed," indicating that there would be no need for him to share in her night's plans. "Are you sure you're not hungry, Scully?" We could grab a quick bite after your bath…" Mulder asked with a touch of concern, knowing that she must be starving. "Mulder, I'm starving but right now I'm more tired than hungry - I would never make it out of this room tonight," Scully sighed. "Okay Scully - sleep well." "Thanks. You too, Mulder," she said even as she began slipping out of her clothes and into the steaming hot bath. Having finished cleansing herself of the arduous work with dead bodies and brain samples, Scully had just slipped under the covers when someone knocked on the door. Sighing as she got up reluctantly, she opened the door with a "What, Mulder?" before realizing that the boy in hotel uniform standing at her door was definitely not Mulder. The boy looked slightly nervous regarding her annoyed expression. "Room service?" he squeaked. Her expression quickly changed from annoyed to amused. "Thank you," she said, tipping the young man and taking the tray to bed with her. Mulder had ordered her a huge chicken caeser and fries - a combination of his and her tastes. Grinning, she demolished her dinner quickly before picking up the phone. "Thanks, Mulder," she said with her last swallow. He could hear the amusement in her voice and congratulated himself on a job well done. "Anytime, Scully," he replied. "Sleep well, Mulder." "You too, Scully." ****** FBI Seattle Field Office Seattle, Washington 7:32 am The next morning they arrived at the field office refreshed and full of anticipation in following up on their new lead - finally, they felt like they were getting somewhere. "Uh, sir, we're going to need to meet with all the agents," Mulder announced as they walked by Dollin's office on their way in. "What is it now?" Dollin asked wearily. "We have some new leads that need to be followed up on," Mulder replied - only barely succeeding in hiding his annoyance at Dollin's attitude. "Fifteen minutes," was Dollin's curt reply. "What's his issue with solving this case?" Mulder grumbled as the two agents walked away from the SAC's office. "I don't know, Mulder, but I don't think there's anything we can do about it," Scully sighed. Fifteen minutes later they were joined by the other agents and an impatient-looking Dollin. "Fill us in on everything we missed, agents," Dollin said by way of starting the meeting. Mulder managed to only glare briefly before recounting his discovery with the newspaper ad and the possibility of it being the crucial link they were looking for. Dollin was not impressed. "You call that a lead? Do you know how many people in this city meet the description you just gave?" Mulder was having a difficult time hiding his annoyance. "Look sir" he said with a pointedly sarcastic edge. "This could be the break we've been looking for and it's worth checking out - especially considering what Agent Scully discovered yesterday." "And what exactly did Agent Scully find?" Scully stepped up to bat. "Sir, in examining the brain tissue of the six victims, I discovered that all six seemed to be suffering from some sort of chemical imbalance in the brain. Now, combined with Agent Mulder's theory regarding this ad for medical experiments, it only seems prudent that we determine if this ad is the link between the victims," she said in a convincing, no-nonsense manner to which her medical background lent credibility. Dollin again sighed and stood up with a grimace still on his face. "Look agents, we don't have time for your unsubstantiated theories and wild goose chases. My agents have been working this case for weeks now and don't deserve to be sent on dead end searches while you two concoct new theories out of nothing. If you really think this ad is going to lead you to the killer then by all means, waste your own time following up on it. But don't waste our time again until you have some actual evidence to back up your claims," Dollin said angrily, glaring at Mulder. "Sir - you're jeopardizing this investigation and innocent lives by not putting all the manpower available on this lead - we're close to something here," Mulder argued through gritted teeth. "Close to what, Mulder? Unless you know more than you're saying, I don't see how you're any closer than we were before you arrived. Why should I waste my agents' time on a 'lead' that is based on nothing but speculation by the FBI's most notorious flake. What have you got to support your theory, Spooky? A feeling? A hunch? Or did the aliens tell you? Do what you will but, I repeat, stop wasting my time." and with that, Dollin stormed out of the room, almost followed by an equally enraged Mulder who was only held back by Scully's restraining hold on his wrist. She had watched and felt his anger mount as Dollin spoke - indeed, it only mirrored her own anger at Dollin's words. But it was different for her - she was never the one doubted, never the one to be so openly ridiculed in front of colleagues. Every time it happened she wanted to calmly remove the asshole's voice box so her partner would not have to again hear about his inadequacy because she knew how much it hurt him even though he was always quick to brush it off with a flippant remark. Holding him firmly by the wrist to avoid a physical confrontation that would no doubt leave him injured considering the SAC's 40 lb advantage in pure muscle, Scully was also careful to let him know that she was there with him and stroked his wrist gently with her thumb. Slowly, she felt a little bit of tension flow out of Mulder's tense frame and decided it was time to leave the captive audience of six agents who weren't quite sure what to make of the situation. "C'mon Mulder, let's get some fresh air" she said, leading him towards the door. Disrupted in his anger, Mulder looked confusedly at his partner for a second before nodding defeatedly and following her lead. Once outside they crossed the street, found a park bench and sat down silently. Scully watched as Mulder mentally reviewed Dollin's words over and over again - his photographic memory betraying him and intensifying his pain. Reaching out, she felt for his hand and was surprised to find it trembling a bit. "Hey G-Man - you okay?" she said lightly, hoping to change the mood. Mulder didn't answer. "Mulder, you can't let jerks like that hurt you. You're better than him and you know it," she tried again with a new tactic. He still didn't reply. "Mulder, they're just assholes that are jealous of your ability. You know that," she paused. "I know that. I know you Mulder and I know that your intelligence and humanity is so far beyond what others can even conceive of. Don't let them make you doubt that Mulder because I never will." Finally he was looking at her and his expression said it all. His hand had ceased shaking and now just gripped hers tightly. "I'm sorry, Scully," he said in a whisper. "Don't be Mulder - you have every right to be mad and upset but just remember that you're better than him. I don't want to imply that the words shouldn't hurt, Mulder - just that they're the clumsy weapon of a dirty fighter." "No - I mean I'm sorry I let him piss me off," Mulder said determinedly. "You're right and I know it - we're on to something and fuck him if he wants to ignore it." Scully smiled at her partner's renewal in spirit. "Of course I'm right, Mulder," she teased. Mulder grinned. "Thanks Scully," was his only reply. ****** FBI Seattle Field Office Seattle, Washington 6:01 pm He spent the day avoiding the office and theorizing on his laptop in his hotel room, only returning to get Scully at the end of the day. He walked quickly past Dollin's door, hoping to avoid any further confrontation and was almost out of earshot before he heard Scully's voice coming form the office. Pausing, he grinned as he heard her tone - he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of her words just then - and crept closer to do a little eavesdropping. What he heard stopped him dead in his tracks. "I don't care what you think, 'sir'," Scully said bitterly. "It was uncalled for and unfair to ridicule Agent Mulder in that manner. He is an intelligent and hard-working agent that hasn't even come close to breaking protocol on this case and indeed has made more progress single-handedly than all of your agents put together have in three weeks. And all this after we were requested to come down here! I won't stand for this attitude of yours any longer. Agent Mulder deserves a hell of a lot more respect than you, 'sir' and when we solve this case then maybe you'll finally acknowledge his contributions - but if you can't or won't then just stay out of our way while we stop these murderers. Have I made myself clear?" Scully sounded like she was reprimanding a child and indeed, at the moment, she could barely see past Dollin's childish attitude towards her partner. "Crystal," Dollin replied thickly with a hint of sarcasm, though not quite enough to get his throat ripped out by the fiery red-headed agent accusing him. It did, however, earn him a fierce glare that made him shiver. "Good. I trust that this will be the last time we have to speak on this matter." With that, Scully turned sharply and opened the door to find Mulder two steps away, pretending to casually walk down the hall. "Hey Scully," he said with forced casualness. "What did he want? Did I miss anything?" She was amused enough by his facade to let some of the fire cool and even smiled as she approached him. "No, Mulder, I don't think you missed anything," she said innocently as he placed his hand protectively on her back as usual. Looking down at his diminutive partner and still seeing hints of sparks in her eyes, his embarrassment at her protective gestures lessened and his admiration of her protective abilities grew. He had never been able to grasp how such a beautiful, delicately-built woman could frighten and intimidate men of any size and rank indiscriminately. Even after all the years of working together it never ceased to amaze him - it was like she had so much power emanating from her personality and beliefs that anyone who got in the way could feel it immediately. While Mulder considered all this for the umpteenth time, Scully took the time to look at him closely and thought about the frailty behind his flippant attitude. He did so much to hide his hurt and denied it to the point where he wouldn't stand up for himself and would just take it - often because he had convinced himself that he deserved it. The only problem was that Scully could feel his pain as acutely as he did and, just as he would always stand strong for her, she was more than willing to stand up for him. But to admit it to each other was something avoided at all costs - it was an unspoken though well understood pact. So she let Mulder pretend that he hadn't heard anything and he let her pretend that she hadn't said anything. The only acknowledgement given came in the form of an extra millisecond of close body contact before getting into the car - as Mulder drew her in towards him before dropping his hand from her back. It was nevertheless clear to both of them what had been said. ****** Unknown Location 7:01 pm "So Operation Red is on for tonight. Is everyone clear on their assignment?" "Yes, sir." "And all the equipment is ready for transport?" "Yes, sir." "No problems with logistics? What about the partner? Is it guaranteed that she'll be alone?" "No, sir - that's impossible to predict for sure. However, the operation's objectives will be met regardless of the partner's presence." "Excellent. Then we are all set." "Yes, sir." "We move out at oh three hundred." "Yes, sir." ****** Commodore Hotel Seattle, Washington 12:47 am "Mulder, I'm beat - I'm going to bed." "Hmmm?" "Mulder? You know - sleep. What other people do at night instead of going through list after list of random groups in the Pacific Northwest area?" "Hmmm?" "Mulder - please listen to me just a second…" Reaching over, she finally just pulled the papers he had been scanning out of his hands to get his attention. "What Scully?" he asked, slightly irritated at the distraction. "Mulder - it's almost two and we can do this when we're more awake and officially working tomorrow. I need the sleep. You need the sleep. I'm actually going to sleep and I can only hope that you will do the same." "Scully - we're so close! I can feel it - it's all coming together. I can't sleep until I put it all together…" "Mulder - you've probably slept six hours since we got here. Put the files away. Lie down. Relax. Sleep. We'll put it all together in the morning," Scully said, taking the files and putting them on the already cluttered table and pushing her weary partner into a horizontal position. Giving up the useless fight, Mulder lay down and grudgingly admitted to himself that it felt really good. "How do you know how much I've slept?" he asked, realizing that she was probably dead on with her guess. Massaging his head gently, Scully smiled. "I can tell, Mulder," she said cryptically. Her hands moved softly over his tense muscles and he felt himself relaxing in spite of his natural inclination towards stress. Sleep caught up with him just as she slipped out and crossed the hall into her own room. ******* She awoke to silent footsteps approaching her bed and her first thought was that it was Mulder - unable to sleep sometimes he would come into her room late at night and watch her as she pretended to sleep and not notice him. Only when she sensed more than one extra presence in the room did anxiety overtake her as she considered where she had left her gun - she couldn't remember if it was on the bedside table like usual. Either way it didn't matter - an instant later she felt strong arms holding down her arms and legs while a hand strongly clamped her mouth to prevent her from screaming. The last thing she felt before consciousness escaped her was a syringe plunging into her thigh. Unknown Location 6:02 am It was dark - or at least she couldn't see anything and hoped it was because it was dark and not because her eyes didn't work. Not that it would have surprised her to find her eyes malfunctioning considering that the rest of her body didn't seem to work too well either. All she could tell was that her arms were tied behind her in an incredibly uncomfortable position, thereby leaving them stiff and deadly sore. Her legs were also bound together tightly thereby leaving her little chance in getting into a mobile position. In fact, there was little chance of her moving much at all which was not good news considering the floor she was lying on was no more than a hard slab of cold concrete. Waiting for her head to clear a bit, Scully closed her eyes wearily and wondered how long she had been unconscious for, wondered if Mulder was awake and frantically looking for her yet. ****** He was running down an unfamiliar street in a state of absolute panic. His breathing was irregular and shallow, his heart pounded loudly. He had to find her - where was she? He couldn't stop running - not until he found her but it was getting harder to breathe…. Mulder woke with a start, breathing rapidly and feeling his pulse race with the latest instalment of his familiar nightmares. Wiping the sweat from his face, he tried to calm himself and fall back asleep though he knew the effort would be fruitless - he had already slept longer than usual. For a minute he lay there in the darkness until he couldn't resist any longer - he had to go look. Getting up, he pulled the key to Scully's room from his wallet and silently crossed the hall and opened the door. As he entered her room, Mulder chided himself silently about his nocturnal visits to watch his partner sleep - a small indulgence he allowed himself only when absolutely necessary. Approaching her bed, a feeling of dread began to wash over him and by the time he was close enough to see that she wasn't there, he could already sense that she was gone. Standing, staring at the empty bed, for a second he desperately tried to wake up again before surrendering to the knowledge that this was a nightmare that wasn't going to go away. Tears began to stream down his tortured face as he lay down in her bed for a moment before getting up to change and start the process of finding his partner. He could smell her presence on him even after he showered the tears away. ****** Unknown Location 2:02 pm Lying stiffly in the cold darkness, it was impossible to tell how long she had been held captive for - it felt like an eternity but previous experience suggested that it had probably only been a few hours. Thinking about it like that, Scully had enough spirit left to be bemused at being so experienced in being held captive. Mentally shaking her head at her situation, her life, she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of bolts being undone and grimly prepared herself for the worst. Two men entered the small concrete room and one undid her leg bindings while the other grabbed her harshly by the arms and threw her to her feet. Standing on stiff and unsteady legs she stumbled as the two men pushed her forward out the door and was rewarded by being slammed hard into the wall. "C'mon bitch - you do what we want and you do it good or else…" one of the men - the one with his strong body pressed hard against her shaking body - growled into her ear. Not trusting her voice, Scully nodded stiffly and breathed a small sigh of relief as the pressure on her back receded and she could no longer feel the man's threateningly hard body against hers. She was led into another concrete room, this one bigger than her little cell and well lit. in the middle of the room there was a raised single-bed-sized slab of concrete adorned with stiff metal bindings. Next to the concrete bed was a table with a small electronic device on it - a black box connected to several electrodes. A video camera was set up next to the table and a whip lay menacingly on top of the camera. One look at this set up sent waves of panic up her spine and it was all she could do to even vaguely conceal her fear as the two men who had brought her to the room roughly forced her to lie down on the 'bed' and shoved her arms and legs into the tight metal restraints. Fighting all the way with all the strength she had, a stream of obscenities flowing freely and loudly, Scully refused to give them an easy time even though she knew she was fighting a futile battle. "Now, now, Agent Scully," a new voice entered the room just as the restraints were locked into place and the two goons left the room. A very large man wearing a black balaclava to conceal his face looked down at her and slowly ran one finger up her trembling body. Trying to pull back from his touch but with nowhere to go, Scully fought back tears of fear and frustration as the man finished his initial inspection of her body. "You seem to be afraid of me, Agent Scully, but there's no reason to be afraid - all I want is some information," the man spoke liltingly, playfully, condescendingly. "Well, I have none to give so you may as well let me go," Scully countered in a steady voice, trying to sound authoritative but knowing that it was rather pointless - both of them knew who was in charge of the situation. He laughed - a cold, harsh laugh. "So you have a sense of humour - unexpected from such a reserved woman. Yes - you can see that I've done my homework, Agent Scully - I know about you and your partner and what you've been up to. So you may as well make this easier on yourself and just tell me what I need to know." "If you know so much about me already why don't you just find out for yourself what you need to know?" Scully spat back - refusing to let him intimidate her. "Well, that's exactly what I'm about to do," he said with obvious glee. She didn't like the sound of that and frantically thought through her options - however, being tied down to the table didn't seem to leave many as her interrogator roughly grabbed her t-shirt and viciously ripped it off her body. Then, taking out a razor blade, he slowly sliced her pants in two and removed them too to leave her naked on the cold concrete slab. Scully closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to take deep breaths as she felt him run the razor against her naked body - not hard enough to break the flesh - yet. "What's wrong Agent Scully? Nothing nasty to say?" he taunted. "Afraid of a little razor? Well, don't worry - it's not going to be that fast and it's certainly not going to be that painless." It was getting harder and harder to breathe. "So let's just save me the trouble - just tell me everything you know about all those other dead bodies and our little project." 'Think Dana, think.' Scully though to herself. 'What does he want?' The answer came quickly and was not reassuring in any way. If she told him what she knew then there would be no reason for them to keep her alive, especially considering she could identify two of the men by sight and the third man's voice. If she didn't tell them anything then at least she might stay alive long enough for Mulder to find her. But she was increasingly terrified of the man who stood before her, eyes gleaming with anticipation through the balaclava. "I don't know what you're talking about," Scully said in what she hoped was a convincingly confused tone. "Now, now Agent Scully, you must not think very much of me if you expect me to believe that - I know you know something - I just don't know exactly how much you know so why don't you just share that little secret with me an this will all be over." "You must not think very much of me if you expect me to believe that," replied Scully. "Touché, Agent Scully - well, it's your decision," he said. "Greco - get in here." Another man - equally well-built but minus the balaclava - came into the room and stood behind the video camera, ready for his film-making debut. "Is it up and running?" "Yes sir - you are now being recorded." Scully's growing dread increased exponentially as her interrogator reached for the electrodes on the table and methodically placed them all over her body - two on the temples, two on the torso, two on the thighs, and two on the soles of her feet. He then flipped a switch on the black machine the electrodes were attached to. "Last chance, Agent Scully," he said sadistically. "Change your mind?" Scully did not trust herself to speak. "Don't say I didn't ask." He smiled as he pressed the button. And her world became nothing but sizzling pain. It was nothing like any pain she had previously experienced - so intense she didn't know if she screamed. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. And then it was over. Her body still buzzed from the electricity but also sagged in relief as the white hot pain faded and the world swam back into view. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" "Fuck you," she screamed. "No, Agent Scully - you're the one that's fucked. Unless you want to tell me everything you know." Silently she braced herself though no amount of preparation was enough as he hit the button again and the juice sizzled through her body. She screamed and writhed in agony as the electricity burnt her skin and seared through her entire body. When the pain finally faded after an eternity or two she was sure she wasn't breathing and almost hoped that she wouldn't ever start breathing again before she realized that she actually was breathing very rapidly and that she was very much alive. She was beginning to doubt how much of it she could take - it would be so much easier to just tell him the little she knew and let them kill her quickly. And he hit the button again. She was sure her head would burst. She shook it wildly and pulled frantically at her restraints - thrashing wildly until blissful release. But then release just led to terrified anticipation of the next time - the fear being nearly as bad as the pain. And the pain again and realization that nothing was as bad as the searing, the burning of her delicate flesh. Then he was speaking again or at least she thought he was but it was all so far away - through the massive pounding of pain and fear in her head, through the dull leftover pain throughout her body, through the blistering and sore burns and cuts from the contact points and the restraints. "Not bad, Agent Scully - not very many people make it through our little black box… but I'm glad you did because from now on I get to decide what is most likely to get response from you…" the excitement in his voice was evident even through the haze in her head but she couldn't think about what it could mean - there were only two thoughts - pain and fear. The restraints were released and she was dragged unceremoniously onto the floor. He approached and she instinctively kicked out, meeting his shin with a weak kick. This resulted in a kick to her ribs - much stronger than her feeble attempt - which knocked all the breath out of her and a crunching pain in her chest. But apparently one wasn't enough and another sharp kick connected with her stomach and then the boot came back again and again - each time smashing against her already shattered body no matter how she curled up in an attempt to shield herself from the blows that seemed to just keep coming and coming. Finally they stopped but by that time she couldn't even move and just stayed tightly curled up crying silent tears of pain. The tiniest movement caused intense pain - even breathing hurt and her medical mind vaguely realized that she definitely had some broken ribs to go along with everything else. The pain was already so overwhelming that the intense burn of the whip took an extra second to register. But the successive blows were difficult to ignore as he found untouched flesh on her back and connected solidly with his torture weapon of choice. It was all she could do to keep on breathing - with her eyes tightly shut she felt the blows move from her back to her legs and still the burn of the whip attacked her trembling body. And then his hands were on her and through all the pain she screamed obscenities and struggled against his touch but of course it was no use. Her body had no strength left though her mind still resisted - no matter what she would hold on until Mulder showed up and killed the bastard who was pressing his hands into her open wounds. And then she knew what he was going to do and she screamed at him as he unzipped his pants and straddled her wrecked body. She screamed and cried and struggled against his hold as he got closer and closer and then he was in her and it was pain and fear and disgust altogether. It was forever and worse than any other pain and she desperately shut her eyes as if to ignore it and struggled and struggled even through the pain of moving but he was so much stronger physically and there was nothing she could do but curse at him. And then it was over. Rough hands forced her to her feet but there was not way she could walk so they dragged her back to her cell and threw her in. Unable to make her body respond to even the simplest movements, her head struck the concrete when she couldn't break her fall and finally a blissful darkness overcame her. ****** FBI Seattle Field Office Seattle, Washington 5:46 pm There were so may files - files upon files of militant groups capable of kidnapping a federal agent from her hotel room. Paramilitary groups, white supremacy groups, militant Islamic groups, religious right groups, anarchists, militant activists - so may groups and time running unfathomable quickly - a billion times faster than normal as he pored through the files at manic speed. There were no more tears - they had been pushed back by his intense focus on the piles upon piles of files upon files. But there was so little to go on - they knew so little about the particular group that they were looking for. He could have already gone through the right file and not seen it - the vital connection - no… no… no… he couldn't think about that - he had to believe that he would know when he found it - he had to know or else. .. He was beyond panic and looked the part with no tie, rolled-up sleeves, messy hair - but forced himself to shut off his imagination which unfailingly tortured him with painful images of her tied up, held captive, being tortured. He had to focus if he was to find her - and he was definitely going to find her. And still there were more files - it was unbelievable - he had been there since 5am, viciously consuming files and coffee for hours before any other agents arrived at the office - but there seemed to be no end to the groups, the possibilities. His head was pounding. He was only vaguely aware of the apprehensive looks he was getting from the other case agents as they walked by his 'office' - a small conference space he had taken over - and wondered if they should say anything. It was unclear to them what they should do - Mulder had managed to extract himself from the files for an instant to inform them of Scully's disappearance - but hadn't thought to inform them on how they could assist in the search. It was already late afternoon and he hadn't found anything useful yet. The pounding in his head had not been appeased by more coffee. His eyes were beginning to fail in focusing. Anxiety which had been barely held in check all day was creeping closer and closer to the surface. Getting up, he paced the room, head in hands, questions without answers running a mile a minute through his head to the beat of his headache. 'Where is she?' 'Who are they?' 'What do they want?' 'What are they doing to her?' That last one was always the worst, its mere presence like a blade slicing through him - inducing an icy shocked state to momentarily overcome him as the images rudely shoved their way through his imagination. 'It was here somewhere - he was missing something, wasn't looking hard enough, wasn't seeing that one thing that would save her - he had to find her! but he just couldn't see it and it was fault, he was missing something…" "Agent Mulder?" No response. Just more pacing, head still in hands. "Agent Mulder!" He turned to see one of the case agents standing at the door and weakly acknowledged his presence with a dull stare. "This just arrived by courier," the young agent, who's name escaped Mulder's usually photographic memory - held a tape in his hand. Mulder just continued to stare dully. "Um, it has Agent Scully's name on it." That got a reaction - Mulder instantly grabbed for the tape and was halfway out the door in search of a TV and vcr before the young agent could shout "the team is meeting in 201 to watch it now!" Mulder turned, his expression a mix between panic and indignation. They were going to watch the tape? But it had Scully's name on it. Therefore it belonged to him. What right did thy have to the tape? He should obviously see it first, alone… "Agent Mulder? Are you coming?" The panic was still there but the tiniest bit of reason worked itself in there and he knew there was no choice - it was technically a group effort - it wasn't his case and protocol dictated that the evidence be viewed by all involved. But the temptation to take the tape and run - fuck the consequences - was still there even as he let the other agent lead him to a room where all the other agents were waiting. He was so intensely anticipating watching the tape that he didn't even notice the looks - a mix of pity, curiosity, disdain, and wariness - he was getting from all involved. Someone put the tape in the machine and pressed play. And Mulder felt his entire being begin to crumble. She was screaming in pain and he couldn't do anything about it. Numbly, he watched as the bastard pressed the button over and over again, sending waves of pain through her helpless body. He heard her screams and saw every tremor, every fearful twitch, every painful convulsion. And then she was screaming again and this time she was calling his name through gasps of pain. His head was swimming, his breathing irregular, his heart pounding, his stomach heaving. He couldn't hold on any longer and stood up abruptly - she was still bound to the table, electrodes sending torturous electricity coursing through her tiny body, she was still screaming. With every ounce of strength and rational thought left he managed to press pause before tumbling out of the room in a dead run for the washroom. He made it just in time. Retching intensely, he rid his stomach of all its contents until he was just dry-heaving, all the coffee long gone. It wasn't enough. The need to purge himself of the images, the sounds wracked his body as he sat on the cold linoleum floor, leaning against the toilet for support. He was covered in cold sweat and was shaking violently. Desperately, he tried to stand up - he had to be there to see the rest - he couldn't let them watch it without him - somehow that would be wrong, for them to see her pain without him. Her pain was his responsibility - he had to get back. But it was so hard to get up - he felt so weak. "Um, Agent Mulder?" a wary female voice called through a crack in the door. "Agent Mulder?" she called again. "Are you okay?" He managed a groan in response. Agent Saari took that as a 'no' and walked up to the stall where Mulder sat with the stall door open. "Hey - I said I'd check if you wanted us to watch the rest without you…" she said, crouching down to get closer to Mulder. "No!" he yelled in a panicky voice. "No - I'm coming back, right now." "Are you sure? You don't look so good." Saari said. "I'm fine," he said as he made another feeble attempt at standing and achieved very little in the way of vertical movement. "Here," Saari stood and offered him a hand up;. "Thanks," Mulder replied, a little sheepishly. With Saari's help, he stood up and managed to walk after the initial threat of blacking out from head rush, shock, and malnutrition had passed. "Look, Agent Mulder, I don't know what to say… everything I think of seems trite considering the situation… but if you need anything - anything at all, don't be afraid to ask," Saari said cautiously as they made their way back to the conference room. Mulder looked at the young agent and managed a weak smile in acknowledgement. "Thanks," he mumbled. The agents sat down and someone pressed play. He had tried to steel himself against the vicious images on the tape and was surviving until the first kick to her ribs and the cracking sound that followed. The subsequent kicks were like dull knives digging at his heart - her beautiful voice crying out in so much pain resounding in his already hammering head. And just when he though it couldn't get much worse he saw the man he swore to kill pick up a whip and Mulder knew the worst was yet to come. Each blow brought him closer and closer to the edge of insanity but even as his pain increased, he derided himself for giving in to so little pain considering what Scully was going through. He could see the red welts on her wrecked body. He could feel the pain she felt as she curled up, trying to breathe through the indescribable pain of broken ribs. He felt her terror as the fucking bastard got on top of her and…. It was too much - the tears he had so valiantly fought back flowed freely. It was like someone had reached into him and ripped his heart out. He was watching some lowly evil asshole rape Scully, his Scully, his beautiful partner. He wanted to scream, to die. He settle for sitting numbly as the video finally, mercifully, faded to black , missing the final comment by the balaclava- clad man - "Call off the investigation and you might just see her alive again." Slowly, the other agents left the room - all visibly affected by the video, obviously shaken by witnessing a fellow agent being brutally tortured and raped - and unable to face her partner's grief. What could they say to him? The two of them had obviously been very close - so close as to exclude all others and now it was impossible to approach the grief-stricken Mulder. So he sat alone, his body and mind weak, unable to think coherently. The images, her screams, raced through his mind. Her writhing body, the burns, the crack of bones breaking, the tears of fear and pain, her tortured voice calling his name. He had to focus, he had to find her, he had to kill the man in the balaclava. Focus. Focus. There must be a clue in the video Focus. Breathe. Breathe. With a valiant effort, Mulder forced himself to focus on what the video told him about the group he was up against. Breathe. Think. Slowly, with a painful effort, he slipped into profiler mode - working out a profile on the group and its leader. Methodical. Regimented. Authoritarian. Organized. Passionate. Together these traits suggested a paramilitary operation. Sprinting back to the pile of files, he tossed any non- paramilitary files in a corner. There were still a bunch of files but at least it was getting to a realistic size. Concrete room. Soundproof or in a remote area. Funds for equipment. Members with no other jobs? There weren't that many groups with enough money, time, and organization to have a permanent membership and base. He was getting closer. He wracked his brain and briefly considered rewatching the video for any missed clues but couldn't bring himself to replay the horrific images. He would rely on his memory even though his mind had actively tried to shield itself from the torturous scenes. There were still so many possibilities and everyone else had already left the office so he couldn't find anyone to investigate each possibility immediately. But maybe he could narrow it down some more if he just thought harder, worked through the files again. It was getting harder and harder to think. He felt extremely weak - the adrenaline rush had long past and his body lacked the energy to even keep his eyes open. Fighting it all the way, Mulder finally succumbed to the much-needed sleep that called his name. ****** She was right there - he could see her but couldn't get to her - couldn't save her. She was screaming his name. He was so close! He could almost touch her but she was just out of reach and In so much pain…. He was screaming her name. And it wasn't a dream. He sat up and stretch his sore muscles - sleeping sitting up never felt too good on his back, his shoulders. Wincing at his small discomfort, he almost started to cry again as he though of Scully's pain. She was probably sleeping naked and in intense pain on a concrete floor. Sleeping in a chair was not so bad. Not knowing where she was was infinitely worse. Rubbing the remains of sleepiness out of his eyes, Mulder dutifully turned back to the files and resumed his search without even pausing for coffee. ****** FBI Seattle Field Office Seattle, Washington 7:04 am It was hours before the first agent arrived at the office - even though Agent Saari had shown up unusually early. The young agent had also been unable to sleep through the night - images from the video plagued her dreams as well - and had decided to take the hint from her subconscious to get up early. Entering the eerily quiet office, she was not in the least surprised to see Mulder sitting in the same position he had been in when she had left the night before. She was also not surprised when he didn't notice her presence at all until she knocked lightly on the open door after standing and watching him for a few minutes. "Agent Mulder?" she said gently, hoping not to startle the forlorn-looking agent. He looked up with a pained expression on his face and seemed disorientated, unable to respond. "Here, I brought you a coffee," Saari said, breaking the silence and handing him a extremely large coffee cup. Still a bit dazed, Mulder managed a "thanks" and a nod before quickly returning his attention to the file in his lap. Saari stood and watched - aware that her presence wasn't affecting the other agent in the least - in fact, it was as though nothing existed for him outside of the files he desperately searched through. He did not look good. He had obviously not slept much and she guessed that he hadn't eaten since his partner disappeared. He was pale and almost seemed to be in shock - with a shimmer of sweat on his forehead. He looked like he was about to either collapse or cry and was obviously sinking into despair. Watching him study file after file, Saari wanted so badly to help him somehow but she couldn't even begin to understand what he was looking for. There was so little information to go on but he seemed so sure that he would recognize the group when he saw it. And she knew that he probably would - it just seemed right somehow that he would hold the only key to finding Scully. Though she had only met the pair a few days ado, it was obvious to her, as it was to everyone the moment they met Mulder and Scully, that the two of them had something special going - like an inside joke that no one else could ever be in on. And now he seemed so lost without her - like a broken toy or an abandoned child. "Hey, Agent Mulder - you okay?" she asked, finally breaking the silence with a ridiculous question. "Do you need some help with anything?" Looking up briefly he shook his head slowly but then didn't immediately dive back into the file and, instead, stared blankly at nothing in particular. "Do you want me to get you some breakfast?" Saari tried - surprising herself with her willingness to pander. Again he shook his head but she could see that he obviously wanted something - though neither of them could put their finger on what it could be. Suddenly, Saari had a ridiculous desire to take him into her arms, to take away his pain, to make everything alright. What else could she do for a man who's world was shattered but still held himself apart from any human contact? But bold as she usually was, she couldn't bring herself to so daringly approach him and instead just reached out and lightly took his hand in hers. "Look, Agent Mulder, I know I don't really know you but you look like you really need a friend right now and I know the guys around here are pretty much assholes. So, really, if you need anything, just ask. I'm not trying to be overbearing or condescending or anything and I'm usually not nearly this accommodating but, as I said, you really look like you need it right now. Okay?" His eyes finally showing some acknowledgement of her words, Mulder nodded. "Okay," he said. She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and he seemed to derive a bit of strength from the human contact. "You're going to find her and she's going to be okay," she said before she left him to his files. Again he nodded but this time with more strength. "Thanks," he said a bit more steadily. "You're right - Scully's going to be fine." 'Scully's going to be fine,' he repeated to himself as he chugged his coffee and pored through the files. 'She's going to be fine.' ****** Unknown Location 8:22 am The first thing she was aware of was the cold - she was so cold… She could feel herself shaking involuntarily, uncontrollably and with each movement - with the slightest of breaths - came the pain. Intense, burning, insatiable pain pulsing with every heartbeat, every breath. Impossible to think, move, see, through the waves of torturous pain that engulfed her. One second of coherent thought brought two things to mind - fear, unbridled and searing - and Mulder. Sinking back into incoherent, incomprehensible, undiluted agony - made worse by a quickening of her breath - she still somehow felt hi pain in searching for her settle in with her own physical torture. Drifting into a hazy world in between realities, the darkness of hurt sucking her in, Scully dreamt/hallucinated of his lanky body, his messy hair, running through the wood - searching, searching. His pulse was racing, his t-shirt sweaty and he wildly looked around but couldn't find her. She wanted to yell, to call out to him but even breathing hurt so much. He was getting further and further away… And she woke up screaming his name - each syllable tearing through her stricken body, carrying more and more of the never-ceasing pain. But it was not Mulder that had woken her. It wasn't the man in the balaclava either but it was the goon that had been videotaping in the torture chamber. Grinning maniacally, he unbound her legs, making sure to handle her raw burns roughly as he untied her. The merest touch was pure agony but she was determined not to scream - not to give him the satisfaction of tears and was successful until he pulled her to her feet and shoved her roughly towards the door, causing her to stumble and fall on sore and cramped muscles. With her hands still tied behind her, she had no way of minimizing the damage and fell onto broken ribs that screamed for mercy. The excruciating agony came close to making her pass out and she only kept conscious because the good pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the torture chamber. The sight, the smell, the presence of the room made her whole body convulse in fear as she was strapped onto the cold concrete table, bindings tightened over the same raw ankles and wrists that had struggle for freedom from the electric shocks. The goon then stepped back behind the camera and the leader entered the room. Shock and fear numbed her freezing body but didn't stop her from trying to recoil when the man in the balaclava stepped up next to her. "Why Agent Scully - you don't look happy to see me," he said in his faux-pleasant voice. "I'm disappointed. But maybe you'll be happier once you find out what new 'treatments' we have to for you today." Blood pumping, heart racing, fear trickling through every limb, every vein. Close your eyes. Ignore him. Ignore everything. "Oh no, Agent Scully - you can't get rid of me that easily," the balaclava covered man leered from behind his mask. Refuse to scream. Hold back the tears. He grabbed her right hand and forced it flat on the table. Holding it down with one hand, he took her little finger in his right hand and gripped it tightly. "We'll start small and work our way up," he said, increasing the pressure on her finger. "Unless you want to tell me what it is you know…" Death or pain - the decision was getting harder and harder to make. Snap. She screamed. And screamed. Pain coursing through her finger and up her arm. Pulsing and pulsing with every racing heartbeat. 'Please let me pass out. Please god.' But darkness stayed at a distance and she felt his grip on her ring finger and there was no point in struggling in increasing his fun factor, his satisfaction but the pain in her little finger called out and screamed and it was so hard to resist fighting the ever- tightening grip, the fingers that pulled her own finger further and further back until… Snap. And again, familiar searing pain tearing unabated, emanating from her hand but flowing everywhere, touching everything. 'He can't possibly want to give it another go - it's obviously not working - it's pain, but pain is nothing that its everywhere, everything but his hand is grabbing at her middle finger and the process is now familiar to her but fear of course still presides and the pressure on her finger is growing but almost can't be felt against the agony in the other fingers - almost - until the pressure grows stronger and pulls it back further and the tendons are screaming and she is screaming too as he gives it one hard yank and the agony spreads to a third finger and again through her hand, her arm, her body, her head. "Hmmm, you really are just so stubborn, my dear Agent Scully. I have rarely met such resistance to my tactics. But maybe my next little trick will finally get you to open up…" Pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter her wickedly lit a smoke and sat, still pretending to have a friendly chat. She barely had the strength to be afraid though the smell of tobacco burning managed to pierce her senses and warn her of his next 'trick'. He was halfway through his cigarette when a knock at the door interrupted the proceedings. "Sir - we're back across," came a loud voice. "That's fine - you have your next orders. Continue as planned," the man in the balaclava called gruffly. Scully's hopes faded - she had prayed for the leader to pulled away on some urgent task, before he could do anything other than smoke his cigarette but she felt his leer on her body grow and knew that there was no reprieve to be had . She opened her eyes a crack and saw that the cigarette was nearly done. Terror seeped up on her - uninvited but determined. The glowing ember came closer and closer. She could feel the heat on her torso and then could feel nothing but a sizzling burn unlike anything she had ever felt before. The tears that had been hiding streamed out in droves and she found her voice only to hear it scream. "Hmmm, didn't like that so much did you?" Head shaking, body trembling, tears flowing. "Are you sure? Why don't we try it again?" The smell of smoke. Fumes of smouldering tobacco wafting about. The wait alone was agony, the fear beyond comprehension. "Hmmm, these cigarettes sure don't last too long - wouldn't you agree, Agent Scully?" Don't answer. Don't think. Don't feel. Don't feel the heat approach your good hand, your unbroken fingers. Don't think as it gets closer and closer. Don't…don't… Don't answer to the burning piercing torture in the palm of your hand, to the smell of burning flesh, to the sensory synapses exploding in your brain telling you to scream, to pull away, to stop the pain. "I just don't understand you, Agent Scully. All this pain for nothing - just a little secret. Share it with me and off you go - no more pain." No more pain. No more life. It sounded alright. But also no more hope and so much pain for him…. Trade her pain for his? Not even then was it an option. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on even as another cigarette is being lit. Being smoked. Being stubbed out on your breast. Hold on. Scream. Fear. But hold on. Disgusted, he flung the butt into a corner and whipped off his belt. Frustration required release and his favourite kind of release beckoned. So much better that she was restrained - no fighting, no fuss, no muss. Just pure, satisfying release awaits as he climbs on to the table, hands roughly gripping sore, burnt flesh. He caresses her wounds - his doing and grows more satisfied in his anticipation, less frustrated but still yearning for release. He presses down on her shattered fingers just to hear her scream, feel her body shake with pain and terror before finally invading her small, torn body and releasing his pent-up rage and energy. His body satiated, he got up and lit another smoke - eyes gleaming as he continued to examine her naked body. "You make it so hard on both of us, Agent Scully. I mean this is ridiculous - I have to find out what you know but I just can't seem to get you to cooperated. This just will not do. I mean I really need this information and if I can't get it from you then I suppose we'll just have to get it out of that partner of yours." "NO!" she screamed, using every ounce of energy she had. "What's that, Agent Scully? Don't want us to bring Agent Mulder in here and give him a little taste of my questioning techniques?" Her heart races - he was obviously trying to goad her into a confession by threatening Mulder but she couldn't take the chance - he was obviously capable of grabbing Mulder and 'questioning' him too. "Don't touch him, you bastard," she managed through gritted teeth. "Well, well, well - don't tell me it was this easy all along. And I'm usually so good at knowing which buttons to press… So tell me everything Agent Scully or else you get to have a front row seat in tomorrow's interrogation of Agent Mulder." She fought the conflicting opinions thrashing about in her weary mind. If she told him what she knew then she would no longer be of any use to them… But the alternative was infinitely worse. There was, of course, the off chance that he wouldn't follow-up on his threat - but that was too big a risk to take. She really had no choice. "Fine. You win. What do you want to know?" "Everything." So with a voice tired from screaming she told him everything she knew and was surprised to leave the torture chamber alive. As she was thrown back into her tiny concrete cell to await death with pain as her only companion, only one though crossed her mind before blissful darkness took over. "Forgive me Mulder." ****** FBI Seattle Field Office Seattle, Washington 2:49 pm He had it narrowed down to just fourteen possibilities but it was still too many. Agents were investigating the different paramilitary groups on the list but the bases were spread right across Washington state with many in remote locations. He was so close - both to the answer and to collapse. So close - one more clue would break it. So close. Sitting back and allowing himself a rare five minute break, he rubbed his temples tiredly and tortured himself with the image, the feel of Scully rubbing his head just a couple of days ago. "Agent Mulder?" the voice was even more timid than on the previous day. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the same agent as the day before - 'damn what the hell is his name anyways?' standing nervously with a tape in his hand. "Is it…?" Mulder managed bleakly, heart in his throat, head beginning to pound even harder. The young agent nodded apprehensively. Mulder reached out and took the tape which again bore Scully's name. For a second he stared at it bleakly as if unsure what to do with it but then stood wearily and let the young agent lead the way to the conference room where, again, all the others were gathered and waiting. His hand trembled visible as he slipped the tape into the machine and pressed play. Sitting down, determined to survive the experience stoically - no more puking your brains out Mulder, that's not going to help her - he was unable to stick with the plan when he watched the bastard in the balaclava take her little finger in his hand and start to pull it back . He knew all too well what was going to happen and knew from personal experience the pain that she felt as her finger was easily snapped by her torturer's strong grip. His stomach turned and his heart wrenched with each scream and he felt his breath race as each successive finger was snapped. He couldn't start to imagine the pain of three fingers violently broken - her small, gentle hands torn apart, the pain in her eyes, her voice calling out to him, waves and waves of nausea as the cigarettes come out and now he wants to scream with her, he feels the terror as if it were his own as the fucking animal smokes calmly before putting each cigarette out on her - his beautiful partner, his best friend, his love. He feels the sizzle, the burn and his stomach is heaving and it is all he can do to control the need to run, to hide from the agony of the pictures, the torture, because he knows what's coming and wants to cry, to scream, to kill, as the fucking asshole gets up on the table and… and… and… He doesn't realize he's crying, that he's bitten into his lower lip, that he's curled up in his seat as if to shield himself from the images on the screen. And then awareness comes back with a vengeance when he hears his name, hears what the bastard is saying and he knows it's almost over - it's the endgame and he prays to a non-existent god that she will not do what she obviously will do. "No!" he screams at the television showing Scully signing her own death sentence, spilling her guts to save him. "Don't do it Scully - I'm not worth it!" he doesn't care what they think, that they're there. The bastards are going to kill her and she did it to save him. It was his fault. His fault. His fault. They were staring at him, at his agony, unsure what to do. They too knew that the woman on the screen, the fiery redhead who had held up against unimaginable torture had given her life for his. What could they say? All eyes were on him…. 'focus, Mulder, focus she's still alive you can still save her if you focus…' but the images, her voice tore through his head, his heart, his soul. How could she give up after all she'd been through? One by one they left the room, still unable to say anything to the grief-stricken agent. 'Focus. Think. She's still alive. You have to kill him. You have to find him and kill him and save her because she's still alive. You would feel it, know it, if she weren't. You have to think Mulder…' And then it was there - he knew who they were, where they were. The voice from the door on the tape. 'We're back across.' Across? obviously across water. Only one group had a base on an island. It was it. He had it. He tore out of the conference room back to his pile of files and pulled out the offending folder. 'United Americans' - a harmless sounding mane for a group practiced in torture and terror. He was so hyped on fear and excitement he couldn't stop from running out into the main office space, file in hand, shouting "I got it! I got it! Get everyone available together right now and let's go get these fuckers!" Everyone turned to look at the subject of every office rumour, conversation. He certainly looked the part of something to talk about - yesterday's clothes wrinkled and messy, shirt untucked, collar undone, tie nowhere to be seen, hair sticking up wildly, huge bags under his bloodshot eyes, extraordinarily pale complexion, shiny sheen of cold sweat. He looked like a classic example of a person in shock and it was hard to take anything he was saying very seriously. "Give us a break, Mulder - put the damn files down, go to your hotel and get some sleep before you drive the rest of us crazy too," Dollin called from his office. "Fuck you sir. I've got it and I'm going now. If anyone wants to come arrest some criminals and save an agent's life then they're welcome to come along. Now," he said, already on his way out the door. But he wasn't alone - all the agents who had witnessed the videos, save Dollin, were right on his tail, ready to follow him on the off-chance that he was right. Saari ran to catch up with him. "Agent Mulder - where are we going?" she asked. "It'll be easier for all of us to get there if we have directions." Mulder stopped and nodded briskly. He waited for the agents to gather around him and then gave a short briefing on the group and its location. "It's on an island?" asked Saari. "How are we going to get across the water?" Mulder looked at her with gratefulness - in his immense hurry he hadn't even considered the practicalities of the mission. "Get someone to drive a couple of boats up and make sure they get them there fast. We'll go up first to check it out and plan our attack." Mulder ordered, already on his way to his car when he heard the command passed along on the radio. ******