Retrograde
(Future chapters feature extracts of Scully's journal from the episode 'Momento Mori')
THIS IS JUST A TASTER. PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU LIKE IT AND MORE WILL FOLLOW! xxx
Chapter One
FBI academy, Quantico, VA
Monday 18th October
7.30am
The new pistol felt strangely heavy in its holster on the walk from the gun store to the firing range. The frost, which had settled during the night, was beginning to melt in the weak sunlight causing the grass and paths to gleam. The Academy had just received a new batch of approved weapons and was eager to let the trainee agents warm them up. Emma Gooding felt the pistol against her side as she and her fellow trainees walked the path at the edge of the assault course. At Emma's shoulder walked her friend and roommate Delia Ambrose and behind them trudged Tom Dexter who was yawning widely. Like Emma, Tom Dexter had recently come in the top quarter of the class, in all areas of training at the academy and with graduation looming within the next year, competition was fierce to be the top graduate.
Through the thin trees at the edge of the woodland Emma could make out the familiar, supposedly motivational, signs nailed to a tree at the beginning of the course. Pain. Hurt. Agony. Love it!
"Don't you just hate those signs?" Emma asked, although it came out as more of a statement than a question. Delia snorted and pulled at the toggles on the front of her sweatshirt. "It's too cold this morning! I wish we were in the lab instead."
"I don't mind the cold." Tom said curtly from behind them. "But I sure am too tired to want to do this damn shooting today." Emma laughed and gestured to their guns. "The noise of all these brand new babies will wake you up, sleepyhead."
The fifteen trainees lined up at the bases and faced their instructor, SA Ed Peterson, who gave them their instructions. They were each to fire in turn, aiming for a hit in the torso of the human-shaped boards, which were their targets. Then they would have to fire in synchronisation when the order to fire was given and must hit only a limb. When Peterson had finished the briefing, the trainees pulled their protective glasses down over their eyes and snapped their ear protectors down over their baseball caps. The ear protectors would dampen the sharp sound of the gunfire but would still allow the young agents to hear orders from Peterson. "First agent, ready and fire." Peterson ordered and the line commenced firing, one after another. Emma levelled her gun as the agent two places before her fired his shot into the torso of the target, several inches below the neck. Emma's shot hit the target squarely in the chest and she smiled to herself, delighted with her shot from an unfamiliar gun. Delia's shot however was not so clear, as she was unprepared for the recoil of the new pistol, and the bullet tore a hole in the shoulder of the target. Tom Dexter cruelly snorted with laughter and fired his shot straight into the head of the target, smiling all the while. "Dexter, I said torso!" barked Peterson. "You'd better have been aiming for the head, show-off! Limbs next!" The trainees cocked their pistols and prepared themselves for the shot. "Ready." Peterson began, "Aim. Fire!" The cacophony of the guns exploded through the air and fourteen of the fifteen shots hit the targets' limbs. The bullet, which had not been fired, was still in its gun and that gun belonged to Tom Dexter.
"Dexter," called Peterson, "did you not hear the order? Dexter?" He did not answer but had his eyes fixed on his target, his gun aimed, ready to fire. Peterson was becoming impatient. "Agent Dexter, lower your weapon. You have twice failed to follow my orders on this firing range, so lower your weapon." Dexter remained motionless. "Failure to follow my order will result in your immediate removal from this facility!" threatened Peterson, whose brow was now furrowed. "Lower your weapon, put on the safety and turn." With his gun still levelled, Dexter turned slowly to face Peterson, his index finger moving not to the safety but to the trigger. Peterson raised his own weapon to take Dexter down but before he could fire, Dexter had placed the gun to his own chin and pulled the trigger.