FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.
Thursday, 4:37 P.M.
"Mulder," came the reply to the annoying ring in his office.
"Mulder, I need you and Scully in my office for a new case."
"Yes, sir," he hung up the phone. "Scully, we've got a new case.
Skinner wants us in his office ASAP."
Mulder was already anticipating an X-file, Scully realized. She could tell by the glint of excitement shining in his hazel eyes. Scully just hoped it didn't involve liver-eating mutants, inbreeding hicks, or alien-human hybrids. She wanted a "normal" case: a serial murderer, a rapist, an all-around bad guy. "No freaks!" she silently plead, as they rode the elevator to the sixth floor, home to the offices of AD Walter Skinner. The secretary nodded to them as they made their way past her to the inner sanctum of the suite.
"Sit down, Agents," Skinner greeted them. "Agent Mulder, this new
case involves Leon Perdoue," he began.
"Perdoue?" Mulder interrupted, "He was supposed to be serving three
consecutive life sentences. There was to be no opportunity for parole!"
"I realize that, but somehow, five days ago he escaped from his
maximum security prison cell."
"Why weren't we informed immediately?"
"Apparently he was in solitary after attacking a guard. No one bothered
seeing if he was alive or dead when they brought him his food. He's not
exactly a popular guy, even among the inmates, as you can imagine."
"So they've just now discovered that Perdoue is missing?" Mulder was
incredulous.
"Actually, he informed us that he's out."
"For what purpose?"
"He wants you, Mulder. You put him away and he wants revenge. He
says he's going to pick up where he left off ten years ago." Mulder looked
concerned at these words.
"Excuse me," Scully interrupted, "But who is Leon Perdoue? What's
his M.O.?"
"Sorry, Scully," Mulder apologized for himself and Skinner. "When I
worked in Violent Crimes, there had been a series of kidnapping/murders
involving young girls, dating back to late 1987. These girls, usually ten to
fifteen years old, were taken from their Kentucky homes late at night; their bodies turned up five days later, beaten to death and raped, but with no physical evidence as to who might have done it," Mulder tried to keep his face and voice neutral but Scully could see the anger lurking behind the mask. "A girl was taken once every two weeks over four months. Then the crime would stop for six months and then the cycle resumed. He was very cautious and very intelligent."
"And this Perdoue, he was the perpetrator?" Scully asked.
"Yes, though he never confessed."
"Then how . . ."
"We were able to gather DNA evidence from his last victim. He got
sloppy, but still insisted that he was framed. That little girl we found was
only eight years old and we discovered her alive, in an abandoned
warehouse. She was barely coherent at the time, but after a few weeks of
intensive therapy, she was able to give a pretty detailed account of her
ordeal. She was even able to give us enough information for a sketch artist
to draw a rendering of Perdoue that was pretty accurate," Mulder explained, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes alternately flashing anger, disgust, and deep sorrow.
Scully saw this when she looked back at her partner and she struggled
to keep her own voice neutral as she asked, "So this is where he intends to
pick up?"
"It appears that way, Agents," Skinner's voice startled her. She'd
forgotten he was in the room while Mulder related the gruesome details.
"I want you to begin tracking him down. Go to all his old haunts,
anywhere a body turned up, anywhere a girl was taken from, his old
neighborhood, anything. You are to begin immediately. You have nine days to prevent a tragedy, so this is you primary case. Everything else will have to wait. Your plane tickets are on their way. The earliest flight I could get was for seven AM tomorrow morning. You are dismissed."
Mulder and Scully headed back to their basement lair. Scully glanced at
Mulder, trying to discern his mood, but he gave nothing away. He remained stoic until they reached the elevator. His shoulders slumped and then leaned heavily against the back wall. She recognized the signs of shutting down his emotions, but Scully said nothing; waiting, wanting to hear whatever he chose to share with her.
They reached the basement and in silence continued on to their office,
where they sat facing each other across Mulder's desk.
"I think we should go over the case files and come up with a preliminary
list of locations to search. I'll call up to the Records Department and have them bring down the files. We'll be able to create a somewhat accurate profile of the types of girls he likes to take and that way we can . . ."
Mulder went on explaining to Scully, as if she was a rookie cop, how they were going to go about executing this case. She listened patiently, knowing it was his way of trying to keep his emotions in check. When the files finally arrived a half an hour later, Mulder slipped his glasses on, and began to read the material placed in front of him, still talking a mile a minute. Scully placed a small hand on his forearm, stilling his tirade.
Mulder glanced up, "What?" he asked.
"Something is bothering you about this case. I don't know what it is or
why you're not sharing it with me, but if you want to talk about it, I'm here."
"There's nothing wrong, Scully. I put this bastard away once. I just didn't think I'd have to do it again," Mulder's gaze dropped from his partner's face and continued perusing the file, occasionally making notes on a pad next to it.
"I can see it in your eyes, Mulder. But if you don't feel like you can
share it with me . . . Then I understand," Scully finished resignedly.
Mulder jumped up suddenly, "I've gotta get some fresh air. I'll go get
us some food. Be back soon."
Scully threw a puzzled look at Mulder's retreating back, then leaned over to pick up the forgotten file. When she saw the picture of the little girl, Scully almost dropped the file. She knew that face, she knew that little girl.
