"We were set up. On Tuesday night, December 22nd, I received a phone call instructing Agent Scully and myself to go to Washington Park at 7:00 PM. We were to meet with a man who called himself 'The Red Mole.' He claimed that he had inside knowledge that would help clarify the information on a disk that we had just received. But when we went there, no one was waiting for us, and Agent Scully assumed that it was a sham. I insisted that we should take a quick look around to make sure that we didn't miss him.
As soon as we stepped out of the car, we were apprehended by a group of men. They took Agent Scully, bound and gagged her, shoved her into a nearby car and then they did the same to me. I think the rest sir … hardly needs explanation. You can see what they did. They nearly killed us and for what? The information that's on that damned disk. I need to find out what it all means. I need to know what all of this was for."
Assistant Director Walter Skinner tried to understand everything that his agent was telling him. It was mostly full of half-truths. He knew that Mulder was tired and recovering, stressed and worried but he still needed to get to the bottom of the situation. Skinner knew the basic facts. On December 23rd, Agents Mulder and Scully failed to report for work. He rang their home and cell phones but to no avail. During his lunch break, Skinner dropped by their apartments, called upon the building supervisor to open the doors, but was still left answerless. Their apartments were untouched as far as Skinner could tell. Mulder's had the same messes and Scully's was clean as usual.
Skinner brushed off his agents' failure to appear for work as a minor disturbance. Nothing had indicated foul play; perhaps he would receive a phone call later in the day explaining their absence.
In the afternoon, Skinner received the phone call he expected but it was news that he feared the most. A local policeman, whose daily route included Washington Park, noted Mulder's blue sedan during his first round of the day. When hours later he returned for another round and the car was still there, the policeman took initiative and broke into the car. Inside he found Mulder and Scully's badges and immediately contacted the FBI.
Skinner's worst fears were realized. He instantly faxed Mulder and Scully's pictures to all local law enforcement offices and told them to be on the lookout. Foul play was suspected but not yet confirmed. The next step would be the most difficult. For years Skinner admired Scully's inner strength and when he first met her mother, he understood where it all came from. At times, the elderly Scully seemed fragile and ready to break, but like her daughter, she always put on a strong face when needed.
He needed to make that call. With Christmas just around the corner, Skinner hesitated to dampen their spirits but he knew that when Scully did not show up to celebrate the holiday, worry would arise anyway. Taking a deep breath, Skinner composed himself and tried to assume a professional quality in his voice. He dialed the number found on Agent Scully's emergency contact card and was greeted by a cheerful voice on the other line.
It was her brother, Bill. Skinner grew even more anxious. He had hoped that Mrs. Scully would have answered the phone so he could just get it over with. He had even hoped that no one was home so he didn't have to deal with all the emotions involved. Skinner, with an unwavering tone, asked for Mrs. Scully and in a few moments he was greeted by her warm hello.
He had failed to inform Bill who he was and since Bill failed to ask, Skinner began the difficult task of reintroducing himself in the Scully's lives. As soon as he said his name, the tone in Mrs. Scully's voice changed. Perhaps she too realized that Skinner only involved himself in their lives when Dana was in danger. He quickly, yet clearly, explained the situation to Mrs. Scully. There was no real reason to panic, he claim, stating that though they were missing, there was no real evidence that harm was done unto Mulder and Scully. It was plausible that they could have just run off together – maybe …
After the phone call, Skinner found himself exhausted and was glad that the day was nearly over. He contemplated about leaving early, having sent home a few agents under him already to get a head start on the holidays. But there was something nagging him in the back of his mind to check Mulder and Scully's apartments one more time before he called it a day. The state of their apartments had troubled him. Though unchanged in appearance, there was an eeriness that resonated throughout.
Seeing that it was after four o'clock in the afternoon, Skinner decided to call it a day. He dismissed his secretary and prepared to lock up his office. Before leaving the Hoover building, he swung by the famed basement office, used his skeleton key to get in, and found it untouched. There were piles of paperwork everything. The size of the office was not fit for two people and though often rumored to contain only one desk, Skinner spied Scully's corner.
Her desk was rather a table brought down from the cafeteria, stolen one day on a high. Skinner remembered reprimanding his agents but did nothing else to return the table to its proper place. Mulder filed a request form with the supply manager for another desk soon after, but it had been circulating in that office for nearly two years. Neither Mulder nor Scully got the respect they deserved from their peers and only a handful of agents considered it to be a shame.
Skinner followed his instinct and on the way home, he first stopped by Scully's apartment. The building supervisor spotted him on the way in and walked him up to Scully's floor. The key was inserted and the door was opened, but this time, there was clear evidence that someone had been in the apartment. The supervisor claimed that he had kept his eye on Scully's apartment all day and saw no one leave or enter. Skinner brushed off the man and entered the apartment.
It was a mess. Scully would have been horrified. The seat cushions of her sofa were torn open and the stuffing was all over the place. Lamps were smashed, cabinets were open and all of their contents were spilled on the floor. There was broken glass everywhere. Paper was scattered throughout the floor. In the bedroom, her clothes were thrown around. The dressers were dumped out. Photo frames were violated. In short, nothing was left unturned, unopened, or untouched.
"Oh shit."
It was the only thing Skinner could say. It was the only thing he could think of. It was now clear to him that Mulder and Scully's disappearance was more problematic than he would admit to himself. There was only one thing he could think of after surveying the aftermath on the invasion – Skinner needed to get to Mulder's apartment.
On the way out, Skinner gave the supervisor strict instructions and left him his number in case anything else came up. He jetted out of the building and slipped into his car. Skinner drove like a madman, hoping that if he was pulled over, his high rank at the FBI would get him out of any more trouble. When he arrived at Mulder's apartment complex, he quickly grabbed the building super and was let into the unit.
The scene was the same. Skinner wondered who was involved and what they were looking for. Undoubtedly he would find out sooner or later, but the timing of his agents' disappearance couldn't be worse. He collapsed onto Mulder's couch and buried his head in his hands. It was too much for him to handle. Skinner closed his eyes in an effort to find temporary relief and instead he found himself drifting off to sleep.