FBI Headquarters
Basement
9:30 am
Scully fanned herself with the book she was reading. God, it was hot. It was a blistering 90 degrees outside. She looked up at Mulder, whose feet was propped up against his desk. He was reading a book too. He was reading "From Outer Space".
"Hey, Scully," he called, interrupting her train of thought, which was focused on the paragraph.
"Hmm?" she mumbled. It was too hot to use unnecessary muscles to utter words that would cover the point of something that took less muscles and contained less syllables.
"Listen to this. '. . . Reynard Muldrake, that ticking time bomb of insanity. . .' " he read, glancing up. "You don't think I'm insane, do you?"
"I think a lot of things, Mulder," she countered, with an edge. She returned to her book. Stretching the paperback out so she could read easier, she rotated her wrist to glance at the colonial, young woman staring out of the cover and straight at her.
He groaned as he stretched, cracking a few joints. He started to dig through his desk, when he finally found what he was looking for, money. He started toward the doorway, when he turned around and glanced at her.
"I'm going to get some ice cream. What do you want?" he asked, politely.
"Get me a sundae cone," she replied, lifting her hair up with one hand to fan at her perspiring neck with the free one.
He gave a slight smile and walked out the door. She sat there, staring at the small words printed on strange-smelling pages, using words in a language that wasn't used nowadays, not comprehending anything. She just sat there, staring at the words, pondering other thoughts. Her thought was interrupted once more, by Mulder.
"Earth to Scully," he drawled, waving the sundae cone in front of her face.
"Huh? What?" she replied, obviously out of it.
"I've been waving your sundae cone in front of your face for how long," he exaggerated. He handed her the cold treat and started unwrapping his.
Taking a bite of his ice cream sandwich, he walked back to his desk. "And don't drip anything on your desk, Scully," he warned. "I've done it before. Skinner goes nuts."
"Over the FBI's most unwanted?" she replied, dryly. If they were going to have a constant battle of wits and witty remarks, then so be it.
He shrugged his shoulders and bit into his ice cream sandwich. The phone rang. Trying to chew and swallow as much of it as he could without choking, he picked up the phone and spoke a muffled sound into the receiver and Scully had to laugh.
"Hewwo?" he asked, swallowing the remainder of the ice cream sandwich chunk that he had hastily tried to chew and swallow.
"Agent Mulder?" asked Skinner. "I need a favor."
"What's the favor?" he replied, wiping away the ice cream mustache that had formed on his upper lip with the back of his hand.
"Well," drawled Skinner. "I have this friend who lives in Vermont. His son has disappeared. They don't expect anything more than kidnapping, but they've heard of your abilities and they believe that you're perfect for the job. You're talented, quick, and they hope that you will keep this confidential. I'm trusting you."
"We'll take it! It's cold weather up there, right?" Mulder instantaneously answered. Scully bit away another part of her sundae cone and some peanuts spilled onto her lap.
"I'd pack heavy, yes," Skinner answered. "I'll work on getting you a set of directions to their house. You just get some tickets to Montpelier. You'll land at Montpelier Airport. Anyway, get packing. They expect you there in a couple of weeks."
Mulder placed the receiver back down on the hook and spun his chair around to face Scully. "So, what's the case?" asked Scully, licking at her cone.
"Skinner's friend's son disappeared and to keep it discreet, he's sending us in because of our talent, speed, and ability," he explained.
"Ah, and we're packing for Vermont?" she inquired.
"Yes, so I would pack sweaters and fleeces," he suggested.
"Ah," she remarked, closing her book with a smack. "I'm going home to pack. When are we leaving?"
"I'm guessing as soon as possible. I'll get the tickets ASAP and I'll pick you up in a half an hour," he explained, flashing a grin. "Pack your skis."
"I don't ski," she cynically remarked. His face contorted in a mixture of playful emotions. He moved out of the way and ushered her out first before walking out himself.
Two hours and they had been stuck in a wave of turbulence after turbulence on the plane. Scully had fallen asleep and Mulder was staring out the window.
"Excuse me, sir, do you want anything?" asked a stewardess, standing in the aisle.
"Do you have sunflower seeds?" he asked.
"I think so. Here," she replied, handing him a bag of sunflower seeds.
"Thank you." He opened the bag carefully, warily eyeing the seeds, making sure one would not fall out. After that task had been finished, he popped one in his mouth. A few hours later, three bags of sunflower seeds had been devoured and he was feeling content. He gently lulled into sleep.
"Ladies and Gentleman," blared the captain, through the loudspeaker. "We will be landing soon. We'll advise you not to get up out of your seats right away."
Scully lifted her head tiredly. She glanced at Mulder, whose head was on her shoulder, sleeping contentedly. She sighed and nudged him a bit. He gave a little snort, which made her chuckle, but fell back asleep. She shook him harder. His eyesight was blurry, but then they cleared.
"Scully?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh, what time is it?"
"Time for us to get off the plane. Come on," she replied. He groaned and got up as they walked toward the airport to collect their luggage.
Using a rental car, they drove towards Milton Avenue, where Skinner's friends, the Thompsons, lived. They knocked on the oak door. The door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman, with brown hair.
"Ah," she murmured. "You must be the agents."
"You must be Skinners' friend's wife," Mulder answered. "Nice to meet you."
"Skinners' friend's wife?" she chuckled. "I'm his sister." Looking at Mulder's shocked look to Scully's shocked look, she had to smile.
"Anyway, your son disappeared?" asked Mulder, routinely.
She nodded gravely. "He was last seen in the local woods," she admitted. "He was playing with Beagle. He was supposed to come back at five."
"We'll search the woods then," Mulder replied, gesticulating to Scully. She gave a nod and walked toward the wilderness that surrounded sections of their home. After assuring her again, he walked over to where Scully was and she pointed out something.
"Look at this," she said, pointing out footprints in the dirt.
"Scully, they couldn't have been the kid's. They could've been ours or his parents or something. I mean, there's no way those prints would stay fresh after a couple of weeks," he reasoned. She gave a nod.
"Look at this!" Mulder cried, excitedly. He pointed to a tree stump, with the word help etched into it. He ran back to the house, while Scully examined it more closely. He tapped her shoulder. "The kid's mom, a.k.a. Skinner's sister, said that he had a pocketknife. He used the stump as a message."
"Mulder," she began.
"No!" he countered. "Look!" He pointed to several marks on tree stumps, leading down the trail. She sighed and walked back toward the house.
"Let's go, Mulder. We can do some research on this area and get that footprint analyzed to see what kind of shoe the kidnapper wears," she sarcastically quipped.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hang on a second. Wait for me," he trailed off. She breathed out a small cloud as she walked back toward the house.
Mulder was examining the markings on the tree stump, when he felt something prick his arm. He thought it was just a tree branch, but in reality, it was a hypodermic needle. After the drug had entered his bloodstream, it had begun to take effect. He felt drowsy and he collapsed, seeing nothing but black.
"MULDER!" cried Scully, with her hands cupped around her mouth. "God, where the hell could he be?!"
She walked around the woods, when she saw signs of someone dragging off someone else. She followed it, before running back to the car. She needed to get back to the motel. It was getting dark. After notifying Mrs. Thompson, she drove back towards the motel.
She walked into the room briskly and turned on her laptop. "You've got mail," chimed her computer. She sighed and double-clicked on the mail icon. A little mailbox popped up. She saw an e-mail titled "Whereabouts of Mulder" and clicked on it to highlight it, before clicking open. There was an entire passage.
"Dear Special Agent Scully: We have your partner in custody. He has been bound and gagged. He is in an undisclosed location. We have also kidnapped Ms. Skinner's son. If you wish to know the whereabouts of your partner or Ms. Skinner's son, you must collect one million dollars, place the money in a suitcase, and drop it in a pre-disclosed location. We will let you know this location later. We have attached a minor video of what will happen to your precious partner if you do not wish to comply to these obligations. Please take the time to download it. Anyway, if you do not comply to our demands by the deadline, we will throw your partner off a cliff in Arizona, where some of our men are standing guard, by the way. Please take that fact into consideration," she read aloud. She clicked the button marked "Download Now". The file transfer window popped up on her screen and as it finished, she clicked "Play".
Her partner was bound and gagged, and was being stabbed repeatedly, in both arms, and was being whipped. She gasped at the sight. Her cell phone rang.
"Scully."
"Hello, Scully," a distorted voice greeted. "I see you've just seen our little feature film. I'm glad. At least you know who you're dealing with. Your partner would like to say a few words."
A pause was heard, and some shuffling around. The phone was being held to his ear and he was being un-gagged. "Scully," he rasped. "Get out of there. Save yourself."
She could hear his groan after what sounded like a kick. She could hear someone retching and she strained her ears when she heard someone speak.
"Eww! He's puking blood!" someone shouted.
"Now what are you going to say?" asked the distorted voice.
"Scully, help me! Please!" he cried, after a long pause. She tried to say something but the kidnappers had already disconnected.
She decided to e-mail Skinner the tape. Copying the entire e-mail and sending it to Skinner, she saw the file upload and a little window popped up which read "Sent!". She sat down on the bed and closed her eyes, the feeling of sleep washing over her.
"You've got mail!" cried her computer, which she left on. She yawned, got up, and walked over to the computer, and double-clicked on the e-mail titled "Riddle #1".
"Dear Agent Scully: To find where Mulder is, you're going to have to solve three riddles. Three, single, solitary riddles. Here is the first:
What's dark is light The day and night Together when it ticks, it's clear To count down to a new year," she read. "Midnight. Midnight?"
She typed in www.mapquest.com in the web address bar. Searching in Montpelier, she typed in Midnight. One answer came up. Midnight Avenue. She grabbed her keys and coat and raced out the door.
Racing through the slick streets of Montpelier, she finally stopped at Midnight Avenue. There was an old, rundown warehouse. She parked in the parking lot and ran up to the front door (the only entrance). She found an envelope stuck onto the door. She opened it to reveal a letter and a riddle.
"Agent Scully: I knew you would get here. The first riddle wasn't all that difficult. Your precious partner has been moved, again, and it's your job to decipher the riddle to find him," she read, pulling out another sheet of paper from the envelope, which was the riddle. "What's in the past is in the past, the present is a gift, just glance upon these works of art, lapses of the past will return."
She brought the envelope to her car, and placed it in the passenger seat. She got in the car and headed for the motel. She would have to put out an APB and file a missing persons report. Heading back to the mote, she heard the word mail chime from her computer, so she knew that it must've been an e-mail from the kidnappers or Skinner, asking what was going on.
She clicked on the untitled mail, which opened a window. "Agent Scully: Glad to see you have the second riddle. You will be receiving a phone call from Agent Mulder soon. Good luck. You'll need it."
Her phone rang and she picked it up. "You said you were going to call," she stated, with a cold tone.
The distorted voice chuckled a cruel laugh. "Very good, Agent Scully. I have just sent you the latest video. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Would you like to talk to your partner now?"
"Preferably."
She could hear the sound of the phone being shuffled as she pressed the phone against her ear. "Sc-sc-sc-Scully?" stammered Mulder. "You have to help me! You have to. . . "
That was all he said before the phone gave a resounding click as a sign of disconnection. Scully turned on the radio as a desperate hope to help her relax a bit and think clearly.
~I'm tugging at my hair~
~I'm pulling at my clothes~
~I'm trying to keep my cool~
~I know it shows~
~I'm staring at my feet~
~My cheeks are turning red~
~I'm searching for the words inside my head~
~I'm feeling nervous~
~Trying to be so perfect~
~Cause I know you're worth it. . . you're worth it. . . yeah~
~If I could say what I want to say~
~I'd say I want to blow you away~
~Be with you every night~
~Am I squeezing you too tight~
~If I could say what I want to see~
~I want to see you go down on one knee~
~Marry me today~
The song distorted as Scully grabbed the radio, pulling the plug out of the socket in the process, and flung it at the wall. Crashing into a picture, she started to sob uncontrollably. "You've got Mail!" cried her computer. She angrily stalked over and double-clicked on it.
The video was more horrifying than last time. Mulder was crouched in a corner, sobbing, uncontrollably as the man kept lashing the belt at him, over and over again, while the others started to punch him on all sides.
She re-read the riddle. "What's in the past is in the past, the present is a gift, just glance upon these works of art, lapses of the past will return." She thought for a moment, staring at the pasted magazine letters. "Photographs!" she outburst. "Photos!"
She looked up Photos and got Photos Laboratory in DC. It had been shut down and just looked like an abandoned warehouse. "That's perfect!" she whispered.
Running for her keys, the black circles under her eyes darkening, she ran out the door and practically leaped in her car. Her cell phone gave an annoying ring.
"Scully," she routinely answered.
"Agent Scully, please place the one million dollars previously mentioned in a suitcase and drop it off at the Photos Laboratory," the distorted voice quickly spoke, before she heard the disconnection click.
She flung the phone back down upon the passenger side seat. Driving off with a screech, she drove off toward the warehouse, when she paused. Thinking things through, she made a startling U-Turn and headed back on an exit. She pulled over on the side of the road and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed Skinner's number.
"Skinner."
"I'm heading back toward DC. I need your help on something," she replied.
"Is Mulder still missing?"
"Yes. Unfortunately," she paused. "The kidnappers want a million dollars. Do you think we can call in a favor from the US Treasury?"
"What's your idea?"
"I think that maybe the US Treasury could help us make some counterfeit money that looked almost exactly the same as real money so that the kidnappers would be fooled. Then, we could actually get Mulder out of there, safely," she explained.
"Hmm. . . I'm guessing that would work, I think."
"So, are you going to contact them?"
"Yes."
"Can they place a million dollars in counterfeits in a suitcase and leave it at my apartment?"
"Yes."
"Can they do it by tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure. I think so. Agent Scully?"
"Hmm?" she answered.
"Get some rest on your trip."
The sound of the click meant that he had hung up. She sighed deeply and hung her head tiredly. She still had her cell phone in her hand. She dialed a number.
"Montpelier Airport," greeted a receptionist politely.
"I'd like a ticket to Washington DC, please."
FBI Headquarters
Basement
"Agent Scully!" called Skinner.
She turned around. "What?"
"Here's your suitcase of counterfeits. You know where to go?"
"Yeah. They're not in Vermont. He's being held hostage here in DC."
Scully grabbed the suitcase and headed out the door toward her car. Starting her car, she skittered toward the Photos Laboratory. She found a note taped to the door.
"This is your last riddle. We have moved Agent Mulder to another state. You are to bring the suitcase to that place, which is mentioned in the riddle, if you ever want to see your partner alive. 'What's night is night. What's day is day. Separated by a thin ray of light. Find the town that is a night within a day everyday.' Shit!" she cursed, infuriated. "They need to stop this now!"
She got back in her car and drove recklessly toward the FBI building. She showed the note/riddle to Skinner. He looked displeased. "If you figured out the last two, figure out this one!"
She snorted in disgust and plopped down in a chair. She re-read the riddle over and over until she memorized it and even then, she didn't figure it out.
"God," she murmured, rubbing her temples, when the thought crossed her mind. "Night within a day. A solar eclipse!"
Grabbing her laptop roughly, she placed it on her table and turned it on. Waiting for the laptop to boot up, she drummed her fingers impatiently. She double-clicked on her Internet icon and waiting for the Internet service to sign her on. She clicked on search and typed in eclipse. She saw a town in Arizona. Clicking on it, she got information.
"Eclipse, Arizona has many high cliffs that is just perfect for skydivers. It is a few hundred feet below 30,000 feet, which is why many skydivers choose that location."
She clicked on directions and printed them out. Running toward the parking lot, she informed Skinner. Throwing the counterfeit-filled suitcase in the passenger seat and drove toward the nearest airport after buying a ticket for Phoenix, Arizona. From Phoenix, she would drive to Eclipse.
Eclipse, Arizona
1:00 pm
Scully got out of her car and stretched her legs to face the wooden sign with faded letters that read, "Welcome to Eclipse." Her cell phone rang.
"Scully."
"I'm relieved that you've finally figured out our last riddle," the distorted voice chuckled cruelly.
"Where do you want the money? I have it," she answered, coolly.
"I want you to personally deliver it to the top of Mount Hiawatha, which as you know, is the highest cliff. It's approximately a five-minute descent to the ground. I'm sure you wouldn't do it any other way." Another cruel, heartless chuckle followed the distorted phrase.
"When?" she replied.
"I will give you an hour to show up before Agent Mulder accidentally falls over the precipice of the cliff. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
"You sick son-of-a-bitch," she replied.
"Sick? No. I'm not sick. I'm perfectly healthy. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm just looking for a little entertainment," he smoothly replied. "Agent Mulder arrested me for trying to kill the president. Examined me afterwards, did you know that? Right after he got out of Oxford. Before he even got involved in this entire X-Files thing. He said I was mentally ill. A schizophrenic. My symptoms were schizophrenia and paranoia. Utter nonsense. I just want revenge."
She gasped. He just wasn't in it for the money. No, that was an added bonus. Something he could use to his advantage. He wanted to see Mulder dead. Ever since Mulder had tried to treat him as a psychiatrist. "An hour? Fine. I'll be there in an hour, or less." She clicked the phone off.
She got back in the car and drove back toward a nearby sporting goods store. "Excuse me," she replied, quickly, glancing at her watch.
"Yes?" asked the employee.
"Do you have any parachutes? I want to buy one," she answered. The lady disappeared before returning with a parachute in her hand.
"Would you like anything else?"
"No, but could you tell me how to put it on?" she replied, placing a twenty dollar bill on the counter. The woman gave her a receipt and her change before heading toward Scully. After telling her how to operate it, and helping her get into it, Scully shirked into her long trench coat and headed back toward her car. Buttoning up the trench coat, she started the car. She had twenty minutes. She started to drive toward the cliff. She got there and walked out.
"Special Agent Scully likes to have a dramatic entrance, don't you?" replied a man, throwing down a cigarette and stepping on it. "Where's the suitcase?"
She handed him the silver suitcase, when she saw they were holding Mulder near the edge. She took several steps toward them. With a crude, evil grin, the man holding Mulder near the edge shoved him off. With the adrenaline pumping heavily throughout her veins, she ran towards the edge of the cliff and leapt off.
"MULDER!" she shrieked, kicking instinctively. Mulder looked at her, with tear stained eyes, as she drifted to where he was. He grasped her hands shakily.
"Scully, before we die, I want you to know that I love you," he whispered.
"Hold on, Mulder," she ordered, firmly. He did so, but saw no point. She unbuttoned her trench coat as fast as she could letting it fall. Then, she pulled the string and the parachute opened. They made a slow wafting descent towards the ground. As soon as they reached the ground, Mulder had an emotional breakdown. He began to cry hysterically. "C'mon Mulder. We'll get you to a hospital."
Phoenix Memorial Hospital
1:00 pm
"Hey Mulder," greeted Scully, sitting at his bedside.
"Ugh," he groaned. "What happened?" Suddenly, memories began to flood his mind. The cliff. Scully. Parachute. Kidnapping. Everything.
She opened her mouth to answer, but he made a motion. "No, forget it. I just remembered everything," he whispered.
She gave a deft nod. This would be a very long, exasperating, emotionally-draining road for Mulder to travel. The road to recovery.
Basement
9:30 am
Scully fanned herself with the book she was reading. God, it was hot. It was a blistering 90 degrees outside. She looked up at Mulder, whose feet was propped up against his desk. He was reading a book too. He was reading "From Outer Space".
"Hey, Scully," he called, interrupting her train of thought, which was focused on the paragraph.
"Hmm?" she mumbled. It was too hot to use unnecessary muscles to utter words that would cover the point of something that took less muscles and contained less syllables.
"Listen to this. '. . . Reynard Muldrake, that ticking time bomb of insanity. . .' " he read, glancing up. "You don't think I'm insane, do you?"
"I think a lot of things, Mulder," she countered, with an edge. She returned to her book. Stretching the paperback out so she could read easier, she rotated her wrist to glance at the colonial, young woman staring out of the cover and straight at her.
He groaned as he stretched, cracking a few joints. He started to dig through his desk, when he finally found what he was looking for, money. He started toward the doorway, when he turned around and glanced at her.
"I'm going to get some ice cream. What do you want?" he asked, politely.
"Get me a sundae cone," she replied, lifting her hair up with one hand to fan at her perspiring neck with the free one.
He gave a slight smile and walked out the door. She sat there, staring at the small words printed on strange-smelling pages, using words in a language that wasn't used nowadays, not comprehending anything. She just sat there, staring at the words, pondering other thoughts. Her thought was interrupted once more, by Mulder.
"Earth to Scully," he drawled, waving the sundae cone in front of her face.
"Huh? What?" she replied, obviously out of it.
"I've been waving your sundae cone in front of your face for how long," he exaggerated. He handed her the cold treat and started unwrapping his.
Taking a bite of his ice cream sandwich, he walked back to his desk. "And don't drip anything on your desk, Scully," he warned. "I've done it before. Skinner goes nuts."
"Over the FBI's most unwanted?" she replied, dryly. If they were going to have a constant battle of wits and witty remarks, then so be it.
He shrugged his shoulders and bit into his ice cream sandwich. The phone rang. Trying to chew and swallow as much of it as he could without choking, he picked up the phone and spoke a muffled sound into the receiver and Scully had to laugh.
"Hewwo?" he asked, swallowing the remainder of the ice cream sandwich chunk that he had hastily tried to chew and swallow.
"Agent Mulder?" asked Skinner. "I need a favor."
"What's the favor?" he replied, wiping away the ice cream mustache that had formed on his upper lip with the back of his hand.
"Well," drawled Skinner. "I have this friend who lives in Vermont. His son has disappeared. They don't expect anything more than kidnapping, but they've heard of your abilities and they believe that you're perfect for the job. You're talented, quick, and they hope that you will keep this confidential. I'm trusting you."
"We'll take it! It's cold weather up there, right?" Mulder instantaneously answered. Scully bit away another part of her sundae cone and some peanuts spilled onto her lap.
"I'd pack heavy, yes," Skinner answered. "I'll work on getting you a set of directions to their house. You just get some tickets to Montpelier. You'll land at Montpelier Airport. Anyway, get packing. They expect you there in a couple of weeks."
Mulder placed the receiver back down on the hook and spun his chair around to face Scully. "So, what's the case?" asked Scully, licking at her cone.
"Skinner's friend's son disappeared and to keep it discreet, he's sending us in because of our talent, speed, and ability," he explained.
"Ah, and we're packing for Vermont?" she inquired.
"Yes, so I would pack sweaters and fleeces," he suggested.
"Ah," she remarked, closing her book with a smack. "I'm going home to pack. When are we leaving?"
"I'm guessing as soon as possible. I'll get the tickets ASAP and I'll pick you up in a half an hour," he explained, flashing a grin. "Pack your skis."
"I don't ski," she cynically remarked. His face contorted in a mixture of playful emotions. He moved out of the way and ushered her out first before walking out himself.
Two hours and they had been stuck in a wave of turbulence after turbulence on the plane. Scully had fallen asleep and Mulder was staring out the window.
"Excuse me, sir, do you want anything?" asked a stewardess, standing in the aisle.
"Do you have sunflower seeds?" he asked.
"I think so. Here," she replied, handing him a bag of sunflower seeds.
"Thank you." He opened the bag carefully, warily eyeing the seeds, making sure one would not fall out. After that task had been finished, he popped one in his mouth. A few hours later, three bags of sunflower seeds had been devoured and he was feeling content. He gently lulled into sleep.
"Ladies and Gentleman," blared the captain, through the loudspeaker. "We will be landing soon. We'll advise you not to get up out of your seats right away."
Scully lifted her head tiredly. She glanced at Mulder, whose head was on her shoulder, sleeping contentedly. She sighed and nudged him a bit. He gave a little snort, which made her chuckle, but fell back asleep. She shook him harder. His eyesight was blurry, but then they cleared.
"Scully?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh, what time is it?"
"Time for us to get off the plane. Come on," she replied. He groaned and got up as they walked toward the airport to collect their luggage.
Using a rental car, they drove towards Milton Avenue, where Skinner's friends, the Thompsons, lived. They knocked on the oak door. The door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman, with brown hair.
"Ah," she murmured. "You must be the agents."
"You must be Skinners' friend's wife," Mulder answered. "Nice to meet you."
"Skinners' friend's wife?" she chuckled. "I'm his sister." Looking at Mulder's shocked look to Scully's shocked look, she had to smile.
"Anyway, your son disappeared?" asked Mulder, routinely.
She nodded gravely. "He was last seen in the local woods," she admitted. "He was playing with Beagle. He was supposed to come back at five."
"We'll search the woods then," Mulder replied, gesticulating to Scully. She gave a nod and walked toward the wilderness that surrounded sections of their home. After assuring her again, he walked over to where Scully was and she pointed out something.
"Look at this," she said, pointing out footprints in the dirt.
"Scully, they couldn't have been the kid's. They could've been ours or his parents or something. I mean, there's no way those prints would stay fresh after a couple of weeks," he reasoned. She gave a nod.
"Look at this!" Mulder cried, excitedly. He pointed to a tree stump, with the word help etched into it. He ran back to the house, while Scully examined it more closely. He tapped her shoulder. "The kid's mom, a.k.a. Skinner's sister, said that he had a pocketknife. He used the stump as a message."
"Mulder," she began.
"No!" he countered. "Look!" He pointed to several marks on tree stumps, leading down the trail. She sighed and walked back toward the house.
"Let's go, Mulder. We can do some research on this area and get that footprint analyzed to see what kind of shoe the kidnapper wears," she sarcastically quipped.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hang on a second. Wait for me," he trailed off. She breathed out a small cloud as she walked back toward the house.
Mulder was examining the markings on the tree stump, when he felt something prick his arm. He thought it was just a tree branch, but in reality, it was a hypodermic needle. After the drug had entered his bloodstream, it had begun to take effect. He felt drowsy and he collapsed, seeing nothing but black.
"MULDER!" cried Scully, with her hands cupped around her mouth. "God, where the hell could he be?!"
She walked around the woods, when she saw signs of someone dragging off someone else. She followed it, before running back to the car. She needed to get back to the motel. It was getting dark. After notifying Mrs. Thompson, she drove back towards the motel.
She walked into the room briskly and turned on her laptop. "You've got mail," chimed her computer. She sighed and double-clicked on the mail icon. A little mailbox popped up. She saw an e-mail titled "Whereabouts of Mulder" and clicked on it to highlight it, before clicking open. There was an entire passage.
"Dear Special Agent Scully: We have your partner in custody. He has been bound and gagged. He is in an undisclosed location. We have also kidnapped Ms. Skinner's son. If you wish to know the whereabouts of your partner or Ms. Skinner's son, you must collect one million dollars, place the money in a suitcase, and drop it in a pre-disclosed location. We will let you know this location later. We have attached a minor video of what will happen to your precious partner if you do not wish to comply to these obligations. Please take the time to download it. Anyway, if you do not comply to our demands by the deadline, we will throw your partner off a cliff in Arizona, where some of our men are standing guard, by the way. Please take that fact into consideration," she read aloud. She clicked the button marked "Download Now". The file transfer window popped up on her screen and as it finished, she clicked "Play".
Her partner was bound and gagged, and was being stabbed repeatedly, in both arms, and was being whipped. She gasped at the sight. Her cell phone rang.
"Scully."
"Hello, Scully," a distorted voice greeted. "I see you've just seen our little feature film. I'm glad. At least you know who you're dealing with. Your partner would like to say a few words."
A pause was heard, and some shuffling around. The phone was being held to his ear and he was being un-gagged. "Scully," he rasped. "Get out of there. Save yourself."
She could hear his groan after what sounded like a kick. She could hear someone retching and she strained her ears when she heard someone speak.
"Eww! He's puking blood!" someone shouted.
"Now what are you going to say?" asked the distorted voice.
"Scully, help me! Please!" he cried, after a long pause. She tried to say something but the kidnappers had already disconnected.
She decided to e-mail Skinner the tape. Copying the entire e-mail and sending it to Skinner, she saw the file upload and a little window popped up which read "Sent!". She sat down on the bed and closed her eyes, the feeling of sleep washing over her.
"You've got mail!" cried her computer, which she left on. She yawned, got up, and walked over to the computer, and double-clicked on the e-mail titled "Riddle #1".
"Dear Agent Scully: To find where Mulder is, you're going to have to solve three riddles. Three, single, solitary riddles. Here is the first:
What's dark is light The day and night Together when it ticks, it's clear To count down to a new year," she read. "Midnight. Midnight?"
She typed in www.mapquest.com in the web address bar. Searching in Montpelier, she typed in Midnight. One answer came up. Midnight Avenue. She grabbed her keys and coat and raced out the door.
Racing through the slick streets of Montpelier, she finally stopped at Midnight Avenue. There was an old, rundown warehouse. She parked in the parking lot and ran up to the front door (the only entrance). She found an envelope stuck onto the door. She opened it to reveal a letter and a riddle.
"Agent Scully: I knew you would get here. The first riddle wasn't all that difficult. Your precious partner has been moved, again, and it's your job to decipher the riddle to find him," she read, pulling out another sheet of paper from the envelope, which was the riddle. "What's in the past is in the past, the present is a gift, just glance upon these works of art, lapses of the past will return."
She brought the envelope to her car, and placed it in the passenger seat. She got in the car and headed for the motel. She would have to put out an APB and file a missing persons report. Heading back to the mote, she heard the word mail chime from her computer, so she knew that it must've been an e-mail from the kidnappers or Skinner, asking what was going on.
She clicked on the untitled mail, which opened a window. "Agent Scully: Glad to see you have the second riddle. You will be receiving a phone call from Agent Mulder soon. Good luck. You'll need it."
Her phone rang and she picked it up. "You said you were going to call," she stated, with a cold tone.
The distorted voice chuckled a cruel laugh. "Very good, Agent Scully. I have just sent you the latest video. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Would you like to talk to your partner now?"
"Preferably."
She could hear the sound of the phone being shuffled as she pressed the phone against her ear. "Sc-sc-sc-Scully?" stammered Mulder. "You have to help me! You have to. . . "
That was all he said before the phone gave a resounding click as a sign of disconnection. Scully turned on the radio as a desperate hope to help her relax a bit and think clearly.
~I'm tugging at my hair~
~I'm pulling at my clothes~
~I'm trying to keep my cool~
~I know it shows~
~I'm staring at my feet~
~My cheeks are turning red~
~I'm searching for the words inside my head~
~I'm feeling nervous~
~Trying to be so perfect~
~Cause I know you're worth it. . . you're worth it. . . yeah~
~If I could say what I want to say~
~I'd say I want to blow you away~
~Be with you every night~
~Am I squeezing you too tight~
~If I could say what I want to see~
~I want to see you go down on one knee~
~Marry me today~
The song distorted as Scully grabbed the radio, pulling the plug out of the socket in the process, and flung it at the wall. Crashing into a picture, she started to sob uncontrollably. "You've got Mail!" cried her computer. She angrily stalked over and double-clicked on it.
The video was more horrifying than last time. Mulder was crouched in a corner, sobbing, uncontrollably as the man kept lashing the belt at him, over and over again, while the others started to punch him on all sides.
She re-read the riddle. "What's in the past is in the past, the present is a gift, just glance upon these works of art, lapses of the past will return." She thought for a moment, staring at the pasted magazine letters. "Photographs!" she outburst. "Photos!"
She looked up Photos and got Photos Laboratory in DC. It had been shut down and just looked like an abandoned warehouse. "That's perfect!" she whispered.
Running for her keys, the black circles under her eyes darkening, she ran out the door and practically leaped in her car. Her cell phone gave an annoying ring.
"Scully," she routinely answered.
"Agent Scully, please place the one million dollars previously mentioned in a suitcase and drop it off at the Photos Laboratory," the distorted voice quickly spoke, before she heard the disconnection click.
She flung the phone back down upon the passenger side seat. Driving off with a screech, she drove off toward the warehouse, when she paused. Thinking things through, she made a startling U-Turn and headed back on an exit. She pulled over on the side of the road and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed Skinner's number.
"Skinner."
"I'm heading back toward DC. I need your help on something," she replied.
"Is Mulder still missing?"
"Yes. Unfortunately," she paused. "The kidnappers want a million dollars. Do you think we can call in a favor from the US Treasury?"
"What's your idea?"
"I think that maybe the US Treasury could help us make some counterfeit money that looked almost exactly the same as real money so that the kidnappers would be fooled. Then, we could actually get Mulder out of there, safely," she explained.
"Hmm. . . I'm guessing that would work, I think."
"So, are you going to contact them?"
"Yes."
"Can they place a million dollars in counterfeits in a suitcase and leave it at my apartment?"
"Yes."
"Can they do it by tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure. I think so. Agent Scully?"
"Hmm?" she answered.
"Get some rest on your trip."
The sound of the click meant that he had hung up. She sighed deeply and hung her head tiredly. She still had her cell phone in her hand. She dialed a number.
"Montpelier Airport," greeted a receptionist politely.
"I'd like a ticket to Washington DC, please."
FBI Headquarters
Basement
"Agent Scully!" called Skinner.
She turned around. "What?"
"Here's your suitcase of counterfeits. You know where to go?"
"Yeah. They're not in Vermont. He's being held hostage here in DC."
Scully grabbed the suitcase and headed out the door toward her car. Starting her car, she skittered toward the Photos Laboratory. She found a note taped to the door.
"This is your last riddle. We have moved Agent Mulder to another state. You are to bring the suitcase to that place, which is mentioned in the riddle, if you ever want to see your partner alive. 'What's night is night. What's day is day. Separated by a thin ray of light. Find the town that is a night within a day everyday.' Shit!" she cursed, infuriated. "They need to stop this now!"
She got back in her car and drove recklessly toward the FBI building. She showed the note/riddle to Skinner. He looked displeased. "If you figured out the last two, figure out this one!"
She snorted in disgust and plopped down in a chair. She re-read the riddle over and over until she memorized it and even then, she didn't figure it out.
"God," she murmured, rubbing her temples, when the thought crossed her mind. "Night within a day. A solar eclipse!"
Grabbing her laptop roughly, she placed it on her table and turned it on. Waiting for the laptop to boot up, she drummed her fingers impatiently. She double-clicked on her Internet icon and waiting for the Internet service to sign her on. She clicked on search and typed in eclipse. She saw a town in Arizona. Clicking on it, she got information.
"Eclipse, Arizona has many high cliffs that is just perfect for skydivers. It is a few hundred feet below 30,000 feet, which is why many skydivers choose that location."
She clicked on directions and printed them out. Running toward the parking lot, she informed Skinner. Throwing the counterfeit-filled suitcase in the passenger seat and drove toward the nearest airport after buying a ticket for Phoenix, Arizona. From Phoenix, she would drive to Eclipse.
Eclipse, Arizona
1:00 pm
Scully got out of her car and stretched her legs to face the wooden sign with faded letters that read, "Welcome to Eclipse." Her cell phone rang.
"Scully."
"I'm relieved that you've finally figured out our last riddle," the distorted voice chuckled cruelly.
"Where do you want the money? I have it," she answered, coolly.
"I want you to personally deliver it to the top of Mount Hiawatha, which as you know, is the highest cliff. It's approximately a five-minute descent to the ground. I'm sure you wouldn't do it any other way." Another cruel, heartless chuckle followed the distorted phrase.
"When?" she replied.
"I will give you an hour to show up before Agent Mulder accidentally falls over the precipice of the cliff. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
"You sick son-of-a-bitch," she replied.
"Sick? No. I'm not sick. I'm perfectly healthy. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm just looking for a little entertainment," he smoothly replied. "Agent Mulder arrested me for trying to kill the president. Examined me afterwards, did you know that? Right after he got out of Oxford. Before he even got involved in this entire X-Files thing. He said I was mentally ill. A schizophrenic. My symptoms were schizophrenia and paranoia. Utter nonsense. I just want revenge."
She gasped. He just wasn't in it for the money. No, that was an added bonus. Something he could use to his advantage. He wanted to see Mulder dead. Ever since Mulder had tried to treat him as a psychiatrist. "An hour? Fine. I'll be there in an hour, or less." She clicked the phone off.
She got back in the car and drove back toward a nearby sporting goods store. "Excuse me," she replied, quickly, glancing at her watch.
"Yes?" asked the employee.
"Do you have any parachutes? I want to buy one," she answered. The lady disappeared before returning with a parachute in her hand.
"Would you like anything else?"
"No, but could you tell me how to put it on?" she replied, placing a twenty dollar bill on the counter. The woman gave her a receipt and her change before heading toward Scully. After telling her how to operate it, and helping her get into it, Scully shirked into her long trench coat and headed back toward her car. Buttoning up the trench coat, she started the car. She had twenty minutes. She started to drive toward the cliff. She got there and walked out.
"Special Agent Scully likes to have a dramatic entrance, don't you?" replied a man, throwing down a cigarette and stepping on it. "Where's the suitcase?"
She handed him the silver suitcase, when she saw they were holding Mulder near the edge. She took several steps toward them. With a crude, evil grin, the man holding Mulder near the edge shoved him off. With the adrenaline pumping heavily throughout her veins, she ran towards the edge of the cliff and leapt off.
"MULDER!" she shrieked, kicking instinctively. Mulder looked at her, with tear stained eyes, as she drifted to where he was. He grasped her hands shakily.
"Scully, before we die, I want you to know that I love you," he whispered.
"Hold on, Mulder," she ordered, firmly. He did so, but saw no point. She unbuttoned her trench coat as fast as she could letting it fall. Then, she pulled the string and the parachute opened. They made a slow wafting descent towards the ground. As soon as they reached the ground, Mulder had an emotional breakdown. He began to cry hysterically. "C'mon Mulder. We'll get you to a hospital."
Phoenix Memorial Hospital
1:00 pm
"Hey Mulder," greeted Scully, sitting at his bedside.
"Ugh," he groaned. "What happened?" Suddenly, memories began to flood his mind. The cliff. Scully. Parachute. Kidnapping. Everything.
She opened her mouth to answer, but he made a motion. "No, forget it. I just remembered everything," he whispered.
She gave a deft nod. This would be a very long, exasperating, emotionally-draining road for Mulder to travel. The road to recovery.