Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 08/17
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 8
You wake up to realize your only friend
Has never been yourself or anyone who cared in the end
That's when suddenly everything fades or falls away
'Cause the chains which once held us are only the chains which we've made
In the dim light cast by the failing flashlight, Scully could just make out the
upside-down faces of four very large, very pissed-off looking men.
In perfect synchrony, small, concentrated beams of light appeared from their
helmets, cutting a collective swathe of illumination through the velvet
blackness.
Scully found herself momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught, and lay there
blinking to clear her vision,
"Hey, Scully, it looks the welcoming committee is here," Mulder announced
cheerfully from where he lay, partly on top of her, on the cave floor. "Aloha,
gentlemen."
"Shut up. On your feet, with your hands up," one of the men barked. "Now! Move
it!"
Scully winced as she tried disentangle herself from her partner. She did not
want to think about all the bruises she was going to have to show for their trek
in this godforsaken cave.
They apparently were not moving fast enough. One of the men gave Mulder an
impatient jab to the ribs with his gun muzzle, while another grasped Scully's
arm and pulled her unceremoniously to her feet.
"Hands on your heads where I can see 'em."
"All right, all right. Don't get your panties in a wad." Mulder got another jab
in the ribs as he moved his hands slowly, insolently toward his head.
"Move it! We don't got all day!"
"And you think breaking his ribs is going to make him move more quickly?" Scully
asked sarcastically, even as she reluctantly complied with the orders.
"Shut up. I'll ask the questions here. Let's start with what you're doing in
this part of the cave. Aren't you two wandering a little far from the entrance?"
"We got lost," Scully told them. "Genius over there lost our compass and was
leading us around in circles."
"Hey, *you* had the compass last," Mulder replied angrily. "And I didn't see you
objecting to the direction I was going."
"Because I stupidly assumed you knew where the hell you were going!" she spat
back. Hopefully, their captors would buy their bickering couple routine, so that
they could bide their time and figure out what was going on--and how the hell
they were going to get out of this predicament.
"Search 'em," one of the men told another two. The same man who had questioned
them. From the authority behind the command issued, he was obviously the leader.
Scully stiffened as she was frisked. She was prepared to fight back if the hands
lingered anywhere improper. She winced as a hand stopped at the small of her
back--at her holster.
"Shit! Hey, RB, take a look at this."
"What is it, Socks?"
"She's packing," Socks said, pulling out her Sig Sauer.
"They both are," said another of the men as he produced Mulder's weapon from his
hip.
*Dammit!* Scully cursed silently. There was a chance this was about to get very
ugly. Stealing a glance in her partner's direction, she wondered if he was still
in the habit of wearing his ankle holster.
"Something tells me these aren't two honeymooners on a tour of the caves," the
one called RB said. "What do their id's say?"
One of the men finished patting Mulder down, but not before Mulder had time to
bat his eyes and say, "Was it good for you, too?"
He quickly paid for his indiscretion: A moment later he was on his knees,
wincing from the kidney punch he had received from the butt of the sub-machine
gun. As he tried to catch his breath, his assailant showed RB their id's.
"Agent Fox Mulder of the FBI."
"Shit! Just what we need . . . goddammed Feds," RB growled contemptuously. He
looked Mulder over. He knew this one was going to be a pain in the ass. Then he
looked at the other id that was handed to him. "Dana Scully, also with the
Bureau." The woman, on the other hand . . . quite a looker, despite the dirt and
grime and mysterious white paste that covered her clothing.
"Well, now that you know who we are, would you mind returning the favor?" Scully
asked as she turned to face the quartet. She took the opportunity to
surreptitiously look them over. She now recognized their black clothing as
military-issue Battle Dress Uniforms, similar to the BDUs worn by members of the
SWAT team. They were toting quite a bit of gear in matching black rucksacks.
Each had a Nighthawk light clipped to their headgear and belts, leaving their
hands free for easy access to the sub-machine guns they were sporting. She
noticed that the one closest to her also had a holster for a handgun; she had no
doubt that the other three men carried similar weapons. "Who the hell are you?"
she said bluntly, her eyes boring holes into RB, who she had deduced to be their
leader.
*Oh well,* RB sighed inwardly. *Looks like they're both gonna be trouble.*
Taking a leisurely step closer, RB looked the two scruffy agents over and
laughed for the first time on this mission. "If I told you, I'd have to kill
you." And with that, he signaled his men to herd their captives ahead.
The bright, narrow beams cast by the LED lights on the men's helmets and belts
pierced the inky darkness of the cave, guiding their way. Stumbling noisily as
they were unceremoniously pushed and propelled down an endless labyrinth of
twists and turns, Mulder and Scully could not help but notice how the men barely
made a sound when they walked. Sure-footed, nimble, and almost graceful in their
economic movements, the men advanced though the passageway like ghosts.
"And just where are we headed?" Scully asked as she was prodded ahead by one of
the men's guns.
"You'll find out when we get there," RB replied curtly. "Now shut up and keep
moving."
One of the men--the one RB had referred to as 'Socks'--pulled out an electronic
device. It appeared to be a tracking system of some sort, from the way he was
looking back and forth between the illuminated display and their current path.
Mulder eyed the device surreptitiously. "That the latest government-issue toy?
You grunts get to play with all the fun stuff."
"Any more remarks out of you and the Commander is going to knock you out, Fed or
not," a third man growled.
Commander, huh? Scully's mind began to whirl. That meant they were not army,
marines, nor air force--not that the latter was very likely anyway. RB's rank
indicated that they were Navy. . . .
"What, you're not man enough to do it yourself, tough guy?" Mulder taunted.
He was rewarded with a smack across the back of the head.
From the front of the procession, Scully heard RB say, "Y'know, G-Man, I'm
beginning to think keeping you around is more trouble than it's worth. . . ."
With that, he quickened his pace and moved on ahead of the group.
"Funny, but I've been thinking the same thing lately," Scully murmured.
Socks caught Scully's mutter and guffawed. "Lady, you must have your hands full
with this overgrown schoolboy. Fibbies." He shook his head in mock sorrow.
She decided to make use of the opening he created. "That's pretty high-tech gear
you're sporting there--Socks, did I hear him call you? Not standard military
issue. You guys must be some of the elite, to get use of that kind of
equipment."
Socks said nothing, but she could tell from his stance and the slight curve of
his mouth that his interest was piqued. She was definitely onto something. Time
to see how far she could take this.
"What I can't figure out is why we'd come across a bunch of soldiers down here,"
Scully said matter-of-factly. Her tone was one of mild interest--that of one
discussing the weather, or a puzzling crossword clue. "Obviously looking for
something pretty important. So, what exactly might that be? A secret weapon?
Some sort of natural ore?"
Socks snorted. "Believe me, babe, you wouldn't believe me even if I could tell
ya."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Scully replied cryptically. "C'mon. Agent
Mulder and I are here on a Federal investigation. For all we know, we might be
looking for the same thing."
Socks opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself, thinking better of it.
Then his attention wasshifted to movement up in front of the group.
RB, who had been scouting ahead, came up to them, halting the procession. He
laid a heavy hand on Socks' shoulder. There was familiarity in that gesture, a
degree of fondness. Not just of a commander and his long-standing subordinate,
but of two men who trusted one another, of friends exchanging an unspoken
communication.
"Now, Socks . . . no fraternizing with the prisoners," RB gently chided. There
was no bite to his words. They sounded more like a friendly reminder of standard
protocol.
"Is that what we are?" Scully asked, annoyed. "Your prisoners?"
In the light cast by the LEDs on their helmets, Scully was finally able to get a
good look at the two soldiers. As they both turned toward her, she took the
opportunity to study their faces.
Socks was short and stocky, not quite six feet, but built like a linebacker. He
had olive skin and dark brown eyes. Mediterranean origin, if she had to fathom a
guess, or possibly Central or South American. The Commander was half a head
taller--easily six-three or six-four she estimated. Lighter complexion, square
jaw covered with at least a couple days' worth of stubble. Right now, his blue
eyes were pinning her with an icy gaze.
"For the moment," he replied.
"Now, why is that, considering we're on the same side? We all work for the
government. Why not work together now?"
From several feet behind her, she heard Mulder chime in. "Obviously, because
these tough-guy mercs would never sink to the level of associating themselves
with a couple of pencil-pushing Fibbies. Even if our area of expertise might
actually be of some use to them."
RB snorted. "You gonna explain to me how to fill out some paperwork? How to file
a report?"
"Nah, I just figured I'd start with basic grammar and spelling."
RB's eyes narrowed in contempt. "Don't push me too far, G-Man. It wouldn't be
much effort and would take even less deliberation to break your scrawny little
neck and give us all some peace and quiet." RB paused, turning his attention to
Scully. "Who our employer is, is none of your concern. So don't go worrying your
pretty little red head about such matters."
"Oh, don't worry, Commander. This little redhead isn't concerned with who cuts
your paychecks," she intoned evenly, folding her arms across her chest. "What
I'm trying to figure out is what would a Navy SEALs special ops team be looking
for in an underground Hawaiian cave?"
From behind her, she heard Mulder snigger. Perhaps they could not surpass these
guys in brute force or strength, but she and Mulder could certainly outfox them
when it came to a battle of wits.
Crossing his own massive arms, the commander regarded her for several long
moments. He evidently had misjudged her. That was not a common fault of his; he
was usually damned good at reading people, assessing their talents and their
limitations. Obviously she had figured out they were military from the way they
moved and worked, even if their gear itself or one of his men's little slip had
not given them away. Better to end the conversation now, he decided, and not
give her any more clues as to the true nature of their mission. Besides, they
were already falling way behind schedule. And time was definitely of the essence
today.
"I don't have time to debate this with you--Agent Scully." Somehow, he made her
name sound like an insult. "I have my orders."
Wheeling, he turned his attention back to his men. "Socks, come with me to check
out this trail. You too, Toller. I'll need both of your help. Robbins." RB
snapped his fingers and pointed at the agents.
With a curt nod, Robbins strode in front of his prisoners, toting his gun with
an easy grace. It seemed he had been rewarded with guard duty.
RB moved swiftly into the darkness, Socks and Toller moving with him.
As the trio of SEALs disappeared from sight, Scully took the opportunity to
collapse against the cave wall, giving herself a moment to catch her breath and
regroup her thoughts.
Eying Robbins warily, Mulder walked over to Scully and likewise rested his back
against the side of the passageway. "Scully, what say you use your femi nine
wiles to get some info out of ole stoneface over there?" Mulder suggested in a
hushed tone.
She looked at her partner in irritation. "I don't know, Mulder. I think he's
more your type."
Mulder was about to give her a glare, but then, catching Robbins' eye, he said
loudly, "No, I like them a little more lean and young, if you know what I mean,
Scully."
Mulder stretched luxuriously, as if he had not been hiking for hours, and as
though there was not a gun pointed in his direction.
Only Scully caught his smirk as he sauntered closer to Robbins in that easygoing
way of his. Despite the recent arguments they had had on this trip, that short
exchange of glances was all the communication the partners needed to know what
the other was thinking.
Mulder walked around Robbins slowly, moving his eyes over him like a prospective
buyer at a meat market. "Nice build, wouldn't you agree, Scully? But just a
little too Neanderthal for my taste."
Robbins just flicked his eyes in Mulder's direction once and moved to a position
where he could cover both agents with ease.
Scully made a production of looking Robbins over. "Yeah, way too many muscles,
Mulder. I know how you prefer a swimmer's build." She strolled closer to the
soldier, hips swaying provocatively. "Me, I prefer a little more meat on my men.
And you, Robbins, definitely have enough muscle to go around."
Eying her suspiciously, Robbins shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Hmmm," Scully wondered aloud, devouring Robbins with her eyes. "I'll bet you
can press two, maybe three hundred pounds."
Mulder moved closer to the SEAL. "Hey, I know this great little restaurant on
the beach. Dining by moonlight. . . ."
Scully surreptitiously inched closer to her left while Mulder kept slowly
drifting to the right. Just a little further, and they would have Robbins
between them.
"Is it hot in here?" Scully asked, unzipping her windbreaker, revealing the
tight tee-shirt she wore beneath. Arching her neck to reveal the hollow of her
throat, she slowly slid her hand down her neck, between her breasts.
Robbins let his eyes linger at her chest. She was definitely a babe--even if she
was looking hot and tired and covered in dirt and some sort of foul-smelling
white muck. But she was supposed to be his prisoner, he quickly reminded himself
as he straightened to his full height. Best to stop looking at her that way, and
remember his duties.
"I could sure go for a nice cool swim," Scully was saying.
"Y'know, there's this great underground lake about a mile or so back," Mulder
remarked, cocking his thumb over his shoulder.
". . . yeah, and skinny dipping in the dark is such a delicious feeling," Scully
added with more heat than even she intended.
Mulder's head pivoted towards her in a split second of disbelief. Desire chased
over his face for several long moments as he drank in her provocative pose. He
did a slow blink before he regained control, and remembered the task at hand. He
started practically cooing to Robbins: "We could all go skinny dipping to cool
off. A little threesome to pass the time away?"
What the hell were these two up to? Robbins wondered. Being a soldier--and an
above-average looking one at that--he was used to women flirting with him. Once
or twice, he had even had a man hit on him. But never before had he had both
propositioning him at the same time. It was absurd, he realized. These two were
supposed to be Feds? Somehow he had always pictured Fibbies as being stiff-
necked straight-laced suits. Nothing like these two loonies.
By now, Robbins was sweating heavily. Hostages were supposed to be frightened
rabbits, not hungry wolves. He wished RB and the others would hurry the hell up
and come back.
Robbins was now the point of a forty-five degree angle between Mulder and
Scully. As they moved, he kept backing away, moving his gun back and forth from
Mulder to Scully, who kept moving away from each other and slowly advancing on
him.
"Actually, I was hoping for something a little more private," Scully said,
closing the last of the distance between her and Robbins.
"Where are you going? Get back over there!" he ordered Scully. He turned a mere
fraction of an inch to fully face her. But it was far enough that Mulder just
slipped out of his peripheral vision.
Scully stopped in her tracks and pouted her lips. "But the lake's back that
ways."
At that moment, Mulder lunged for Robbins' gun. The two men began to struggle
for control of the weapon, which was sandwiched between them at chest level.
Scully knew that Mulder would be no match for a Navy SEAL. She had to move
quickly. Darting closer, she reached for the back of Robbins' belt, and
retrieved her own weapon.
Bullets whined as Robbins' gun went off. Scully jumped back out of the way as
the men tumbled to the ground.
Scully pointed her Sig at the two wrestling figures, but could not get a clear
shot. Finally, when the two figures stopped rolling, Robbins had Mulder pinned
in a headlock.
"Freeze!" Scully shouted, leveling her gun at the soldier. "Let him go. Nice and
easy."
Mulder croaked as the soldier tightened his grip and bared his teeth. "No, *you*
drop the gun, Agent Scully. Or else I'll gut your partner like a stuck pig."
He revealed the knife he had retrieved from his boot.
"Well, then you'll both be dead," Scully said evenly, aiming her gun between
Robbins' eyes.
"Scully!" Mulder squeaked. Fine time she picked to play chicken.
Robbins' eyes narrowed. Scully released the safety from her Sig.
It was this tableaux that greeted RB and his two team members. "What the hell is
going on here?" he demanded as the trio approached, weapons drawn.
Scully, who had not heard them coming, nearly jumped at the sound of the voice.
She could not believe how silent their approach had been.
"I knew you two Feds would be nothing but trouble." RB reached over to Scully
and pinched her wrist, plucking the gun from her nerveless hands. "Robbins, I
thought I told you to watch these two."
"I had everything under control, RB."
"Yeah," Socks sneered. "That's why G-woman here was using your forehead as a
bullseye."
Robbins could only lower his eyes in shame. He released his hold on Mulder--but
not before giving him a quick, firm punch to the gut.
Mulder lay writhing on the ground, moaning, trying to catch his breath.
"If you weren't a lady, I'd give you a piece of my mind, too," RB told Scully,
leveling his fist at her nose.
"I guess I should be thankful that chivalry isn't dead," Scully retorted,
glaring at him before moving to her partner's side. "You okay, Mulder?" she
whispered.
"Aside from my new job as whipping boy, I'm just dandy," he muttered.
"Let me be the judge of that," she replied, checking him over for injuries.
As he quietly chastised Robbins, RB watched her with a detached interest, noting
her efficient movements. First aid training surely. He filed the information
away. Ending his gentle reprimand with an encouraging slap to the back, he began
to gather his small band. "Let's go. Time to move out."
"So, what are you guys gonna do now? March us off to some corner and shoot us in
the back?" Scully asked, slowly rising to her feet.
"Believe me, ma'am, nothing would give me greater pleasure right now."
"Believe me, the feeling's mutual," Mulder muttered from his prone position.
"Unfortunately, right now you're both more useful to me alive."
Socks hauled Mulder to a standing position. "Up on your feet. We don't have time
to lounge around," he said, not too unkindly.
"Why the rush?" Scully asked as she was likewise shepherded forward.
She was answered by the incessant beeping of the tracker in Sock's hands.
"Skipper? I don't know how long that these tunnels are going to hold out under
these quakes. If we don't shake a leg, we might not be able to get through."
As if to punctuate his statement, the ground rumbled under their feet and they
were all pelted by a shower of pebbles.
"Where the hell are you taking us? Somebody's going to fill me in, or I will not
move another inch," Scully declared, crossing her arms.
"Lady, don't mess with me right now," the commander warned. "I am not in the
mood for insubordination. If I have to pick you up and carry you over my
shoulder, you are going to move."
"Oo, do I get the royal treatment, too?" Mulder queried.
Scully glared mutinously at RB while Mulder smirked. Her scowl quickly turned to
a gasp of surprise as the commander made good his threat: he picked her up like
a sack of potatoes and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He
began to jog down the tunnel. Toller and Socks quickly followed suit. At the
urging of Robbins' weapon, Mulder joined in the procession.
"Put me down!" Scully shouted, pummeling RB's back with her fists. "Let me go!"
"She's not the kind'a woman that appreciates being swept off her feet," Mulder
remarked to Socks as he followed the group through the passageway.
"Shut up, Mulder!" Scully screamed furiously.
"She always this pleasant?" Socks asked him.
"Part of her charm," Mulder replied. "She grows on you after a while."
"Like a fungus?"
"More like jock itch."
Socks chuckled silently. With the exchange, Mulder realized he had managed to
forge a reluctant truce.
The rumbling began to grow louder, and Scully's continued protests were ignored
as they all picked up the pace and began to run through the tunnel, dodging the
occasional splattering of small stones.
"Hold up!" RB bellowed, bringing the procession to a quick halt. The path ended
abruptly several feet in front of him.
Pushing his way through for a better look, Mulder's eyes widened as he realized
they were standing before a gaping chasm. "Now what?" he asked.
"We go across," RB said, depositing Scully on the ground and signaling to his
men.
Approaching the edge carefully, Mulder looked down at the seemingly endless pit.
His stomach knotted. He had a very bad feeling about this. . . .
Toller knelt and pulled out a small kit from his rucksack. In under a minute
flat, he had assembled what looked like a small, foot-long rocket launcher. He
loaded it with a deadly-looking carbon steel harpoon that had a cable tied
through its center like a thread through the eye of a needle.
Approaching the edge of the canyon, Toller squatted, bracing himself as he set
one foot forward and one foot back. He wordlessly brought the launcher to his
shoulder. He gazed through the attached scope, adjusted his aim as he sighted
his target across the ravine, and squeezed the trigger. With an audible rush of
air, the harpoon and attached cable sped forward like a striking snake,
embedding itself into the rock firmly.
The two agents watched in fascination as Robbins pulled out a metal object no
larger than his hand. Scully peered closer and saw two metal wheels, each with a
grooved rim, attached with metal joints that protruded from the centers of the
wheels. Robbins snapped a joint open and placed the rim of one of the wheels
onto the cable that Socks handed him before snapping the other wheel back into
place. The cable now fit snugly between the two wheels--pulleys, Scully now
realized--one wheel above, and one below. Socks and Robbins worked silently, and
in swift progression, a long rod was assembled and attached to the pulley to
serve as handlebars. A makeshift but sturdy trolley was now in place.
Meanwhile, RB had been threading the free end of the cable into a similar
harpoon, and securing it with several knots. He quickly loaded it into the
launcher, and reminded Toller to adjust the setting for close-range fire. With a
nod, Toller reset the launcher and turned to survey the wall behind them.
"This looks like a good spot," RB said. "Point and shoot."
Once more bracing himself, Toller raised the launcher to his shoulder, aimed,
and fired. The steel arrow whizzed forward, embedding itself into the rock. The
cable was now strung tautly across the abyss at about shoulder height.
RB was now scanning the chasm and testing the cable and trolley with his weight.
It seemed to withhold the strain to his satisfaction.
"Socks, you first. Toller, you help Agent Smartass. I'll get Scully. Robbins,
you take up the rear. Let's go. Move out!"
Scully watched in awe as Socks quickly shouldered his gear.
They really did not expect her and Mulder to follow suit--did they?
Mulder peered down the edge of the cliff. All he could see was darkness below.
He kicked a rock down the ravine and waited to hear it hit the bottom. When the
sound did not come, he grimaced. "Ah shit!"
Toller tossed a harness to Mulder. "You're next, G-Man," he said, helping Mulder
put it on correctly.
"Whatever happened to ladies first?" Mulder asked, looking over his shoulder at
Scully. She locked gazes with him, her own face seeming a shade paler than
usual. At least she was nervous too. Cold comfort, really.
He felt a hand clasp him on the shoulder, startling him. "Last step's a doosey,
eh?" Socks asked with a mischievous grin right before grabbing the trolley. "See
ya on the other side, bud."
With a small wave, he backed up, got a running start, and cast off the edge. He
slid the thirty or so yards across the gaping chasm to the embankment on the
other side. When his feet touched solid ground, he signaled to the others before
sending the trolley back across. Robbins intercepted it.
Toller was checking the connections on Mulder's harness with a casualness that
did not do much for Mulder's nerves. "All set," he said, pushing Mulder toward
the edge and the waiting trolley.
Mulder gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to look down. "You have got to be
kidding me," he remarked nervously as Toller attached his harness to the pulley
with two metal biners.
"Just don't look down. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Focus on Socks on the
other side, and it'll be over before you know it."
Toller signaled for Mulder to back up. Mulder took a deep breath as he
considered the gaping hole ahead of him. "Don't suppose I get a kiss for good
luck?"
He had barely placed his hands on the handlebars (more like a death grip, Scully
would tease him later) when he was abruptly pushed forward by Toller. Mulder
took a running leap and cast off of the edge of the ravine. He gave a shout that
would put Goofy to shame. The ride was unlike any he had been on in his entire
life. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and glorious, all at once. Definitely the
longest fifteen seconds of his life.
When Mulder reached the other side, Socks grabbed hold of the harness, pulled
him to level ground, and unhooked him.
As Mulder struggled to catch his breath, Socks sent the trolley back to Toller.
RB glanced at his watch. "We've got to hustle. The agents are slowing us down.
C'mon, Scully, let's get you into a harness. Double time, Toller."
"Aye-aye Skipper." Backing up twice as much as Socks or Mulder had, Toller took
a running start and jumped off the edge. He flew across the chasm in under ten
seconds.
It took longer for the trolley to return to them. Robbins caught it quickly.
"Let's go, Agent Scully. You're up," he said.
Suddenly, the ground lurched with more force than ever, and they had to vie for
footing. Scully was standing precariously close to the edge, and felt herself
stumbling a bit too close for comfort. RB grabbed her to steady her, pulling her
back. "You okay?" he asked.
Still grasping his arm for support, she nodded at him gratefully. "How do I put
this thing on?" she asked, fumbling with the straps of the harness.
"Here, let me," he said, adjusting it around her waist and legs.
"Shit! Boss, look!" Robbins exclaimed, pointing to the cable.
RB and Scully turned to look. The cable was no longer level, and it now sloped
slightly downward toward their side of the ravine. What was worse, the latest
tremor must have loosened one of the connections; the cable now sagged almost a
yard in the center. That meant it would require even more acceleration to clear
the chasm and propel the rider across.
"Fuck!" He looked down at Scully and shook his head. "How much do you weigh?"
Her eyebrow arched at the untoward question. "You gonna ask me my age while
you're at it?"
"Little thing like her . . . probably less than my gun," Robbins remarked.
"You can't be much more than a hundred," RB said, shaking his head. "That's not
enough weight to get you to the other side. You'd hang in the middle."
"So how do you propose I get to the other side?" Scully queried.
"We'll have to take it together. Here, put your arms around my neck. Robbins,
watch the cable."
Scully hesitated. She did not know if she could trust this man. She would just
as soon take her chances with the cable.
"Get the lead out, Li'l Red. This cable's not gonna last much longer." He bent
down in front of her.
Eyes narrowing contemptuously as he grabbed her by the waist, Scully snaked her
legs around RB's hips and wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the
hard muscles of his chest and shoulders even through the fabric of his BDUs.
Cupping her ass, he slid his hands part-way down her thighs and tucked her legs
more securely around his waist. As he nestled Scully more tightly against him, a
wave of heat emanated from deep within her core, and quickly spread as she
realized that a submachine gun was not the only formidable equipment he was
packing. The pleasurable sensation the sudden contact elicited was enough to
make her reconsider Mulder's suggestion for taking up a career as a lap dancer.
*Why, Commander, is that a concealed weapon, or are you just happy to see me?*
She nearly giggled at the illicit thought. She allowed herself an appreciative
inward sigh before giving herself a little shake and bringing herself back to
business. At least, she hoped the sigh had been inward. . . .
"Hold on tight!" RB gave her a little grin before taking a running leap and
casting them both off into the air.
The abrupt sensation of falling made Scully instinctively grab the commander
more tightly. She buried her face in his neck, holding on for dear life. Her
senses registered the smell of sweat and gunpowder and a scent her mind could
only describe as distinctly male.
With an abrupt jerk, they reached the other side. Scully disentangled herself
from the commander, and he took her by the waist to deposit her onto the ground.
As she began to detach the harness, Scully whispered in a deadly tone, "Touch my
ass again and you're a dead man."
"Well worth the risk," he whispered back with a wink as he turned his attention
to Robbins, who was just retrieving the trolley Socks had sent to him.
Watching the two like a hawk as they whispered to each other, Mulder did a slow
burn.
Was that a smile that crept across Scully's face? She was definitely flushed.
Was that from the thrill of the ride--or something more? He could not be sure.
As he got whiff of the palpable sexual undercurrent exchanged between his
partner and the SEAL commander, for the first time in a long while, jealousy
flared.
Socks offered a sympathetic glance which Mulder missed entirely.
Mulder walked over to his partner just as the commander turned his attention
elsewhere. "Enjoy the ride, Scully?" he asked, his tone perhaps a bit too
accusatory.
She was about to reply when RB's shout cut her off. "Get ready to move out as
soon as Robbins gets here," he told them. "We don't have much time before
another full-blown cave-in, and I want to put as much distance between us and
this ravine as I can."
To punctuate his statement, the ground shook with another growing roar.
"Robbins! Double time! Hustle, man!" RB shouted to him.
Robbins nodded and backed up without delay. As he began to sprint forward, the
ground gave another massive shake, and the cable sank another foot. Lurching
forward on crumbling ground, Robbins lost his footing, and started plunging
across the ravine. He had no sooner cast off when the tunnel behind him
collapsed, and the wall that the held the harpoon in which the cable was
embedded started to give way.
Once again, the ground pulsated violently. Suddenly, the cable snapped, sending
Robbins plunging face-first toward the side of the ravine in a sweeping arc.
Hands grasping the trolley for dear life, he tried to lessen the impactthe only
way he could: with his feet.
All five figures watched in horrified silence as Robbins, a man weighing well
over two hundred pounds, plunged toward the wall below them like a wrecking
ball. At the last moment, the cable twisted, and his body turned sideways. There
was a sickening snap as his foot caught in a crevice a split second before the
rest of his body slammed into the rockface.
Even above the rumbling of the cave-in, they could hear Robbins' agonizing
scream.
The violent sounds broke the temporary paralysis and RB shouted, "C'mon,
somebody help me pull him up!"
Carefully approaching the edge, Scully peered down the chasm. From the light
cast by his belt LED, she could see Robbins dangling, his foot still wedged into
the fissure, his leg twisted out at a disturbingly unnatural angle. "Wait!" she
called to the others.
But it was too late. The three remaining SEALs were already tugging on the
cable. Robbins' body was lifted a few inches, but his foot remained pinned. He
hollered in anguish as his injured leg was jostled.
"Stop!" Scully shrieked. "His foot is trapped. You can't pull him up."
"Fuck!" RB cursed, dropping the cable.
Scully could see his mind at work furiously, searching for an alternative
solution. Abruptly, she saw fierce determination cross his features. "Red, hand
me that harness. I'm goin' down after him."
"Mark, there's no way you can get to him," Socks protested, realizing the crazy
rescue attempt his commander intended.
"Just watch me," RB said, quickly donning the harness Scully handed him.
Socks knew what was coming next. Without wasting breath on arguing, he signaled
to Toller, who quickly approached with the launcher. Socks loaded it with a much
smaller arrow, attached to a thick rope. Toller aimed it at the closest wall,
and pulled the trigger. The steel arrow drilled into the stone, securing a
shorter rope. He quickly cast the free end down the side of the ravine.
"You'll never make it, Mark," Socks quietly protested, even as he helped him
fasten his harness to the lifeline. "If there's another cave-in, you're both
going to die down there."
"Don't go writing my eulogy just yet," RB replied, checking the connection of
his harness to the rope. "Toller, get these civilians to safety," he commanded.
"Wait--what are you doing?" Mulder asked, watching as the SEAL leader backed
toward the cliff's edge.
"I've got a man down. Nobody's left behind on my watch." With that, he began to
rappel down the ravine toward Robbins.
"He's crazy!" Scully exclaimed, peering over the edge to watch his descent.
"That's why we call him RB, ma'am," Socks said, though Scully's attention was
now focused below them.
Getting closer for a better look, Mulder had to admire the graceful descent. RB
made rappelling look easy--but it could not be, not on that rough wall and with
the shaking and falling debris.
Just then, a shower of stalactites began to rain down on them, and Mulder
instinctively pulled his partner back from the edge. Jerking away from his
protective grasp in irritation, Scully's breath caught as a particularly large
chunk of the ceiling fell. She hurried back to the edge, and watched as it
barely missed RB by a couple feet as he continued to rappel down towards
Robbins.
The SEAL commander barely gave it a passing glance, so complete was his
concentration on the task at hand. Unfortunately, even that could not prevent a
strong gust of wind generated by the falling debris from pushing him off course.
"C'mon, Agents," Toller prompted, trying to get them to move.
Engrossed by the rescue attempt, Scully and Mulder ignored him. They watched RB
hugging the face of the chasm, inching his way to where Robbins dangled
helplessly.
Socks just gripped the rope that held his CO and best friend tighter, making
sure it was looped around a rock for extra measure.
Having reached Robbins, RB was now working to extricate his soldier's trapped
foot. Robbins' boot had become wedged tightly into a crevice, and he soon
learned that no amount of pushing or pulling was going to get it free without
damaging his leg or their position.
"Now that he's gotten to him, how's he going to free his leg from the wall?"
Mulder wondered aloud.
In answer to Mulder's question, RB pulled a knife from his belt. He quickly
began to work away at Robbins' bootlaces.
"Guess that's quicker than untying them," Mulder remarked offhandedly.
Socks guffawed. "Ain't possible to untie 'em. Only way to get off a SEAL's
bootlaces is to cut 'em."
"You must go through a hell of a lot of laces that way."
"Beats leaving your boots behind in a pile of mud when you're hiking through a
jungle 'coz you didn't tie 'em tight enough."
"C'mon, you heard the Commander, Agents, let's move out," Toller told them,
quickly growing impatient.
Nodding, Mulder began to follow the soldier. When Scully did not do the same, he
turned back around. "C'mon, Scully, let's go."
"No, he might need our help," she protested, staying put beside Socks. She did
not even bother to glance in Mulder's direction, so deeply was her concentration
focused below on the SEAL commander.
RB may have decided to cut the boot away, but it was was slow and agonizing
business. Just severing the laces was not enough to extricate Robbins' foot. And
the shallow width of the crevice made maneuvering his sizable blade delicate
work--especially since he had to be careful not to cut into flesh. To say
nothing of the fact that he was dealing with a tough, military-issue boot with
thick leather and steel-reinforced toes and plates.
What was worse, anything more than the slightest movement sent a sharp pain
shooting up Robbins' leg. Grimacing, the young SEAL bit down on his lip to keep
from crying out. It was not long before he tasted blood.
RB was so intent on his task that he did not see a falling stalactite coming
down toward him and Robbins--nor could he have dodged it, even if he had.
"Look out!" Scully shouted in warning, but it was already too late.
Luckily, the weight distribution of the stony missile caused it to fall broad-
end down, saving them from being pierced by its tapered point. As it was, the
falling stalactite caught RB a glancing blow on his shoulder. It caused no
serious damage, but it was enough to make him drop his knife.
"Fuck!" RB shouted, watching the knife careen off the wall and tumble down into
the dark abyss below. "Robbins, do you still have your knife?"
"Y-yeah. . . . Scabbard's . . . in my . . . other boot. . . ."
Grunting, RB carefully reached around Robbins in an attempt to grab his knife.
"RB . . . get outta here. . . . Leave me. . . . Save yourself. . . ."
RB ignored the pleas.
Just then, there was another low rumble that RB felt rattle his bones, even as
more debris started falling toward them. He glanced upwards, and caught sight of
Socks staring down at them.
"Socks, you ass, get back to safety! Don't get hit!" RB called up from his
position before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He completed the
final slice through the thick leather. "Sorry, Robbins, this is going to hurt
for a second."
And with no more warning than that, he wrenched Robbins' foot out of the boot,
causing a bubbling keen from the younger SEAL.
"Pull him up!"
Up top, the two SEALs and Mulder worked to hoist the injured man upwards, while
Scully observed his ascent to ensure he was not thrust into any outcroppings on
the ravine wall.
RB watched as the fallen soldier reached the top and was pulled over the edge
and out of sight. He allowed himself a sigh of relief. Now all that remained was
for him to get his own sorry ass topside.
Before beginning his own ascent, he spared another glance upwards. He looked up
in time to see a huge rock, shaken from the cave ceiling, come tumbling down
towards him.
He was going to be hit. There was no time to move sideways--and nowhere to go . . .
. . . but down.
End Chapter 8
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 8
You wake up to realize your only friend
Has never been yourself or anyone who cared in the end
That's when suddenly everything fades or falls away
'Cause the chains which once held us are only the chains which we've made
In the dim light cast by the failing flashlight, Scully could just make out the
upside-down faces of four very large, very pissed-off looking men.
In perfect synchrony, small, concentrated beams of light appeared from their
helmets, cutting a collective swathe of illumination through the velvet
blackness.
Scully found herself momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught, and lay there
blinking to clear her vision,
"Hey, Scully, it looks the welcoming committee is here," Mulder announced
cheerfully from where he lay, partly on top of her, on the cave floor. "Aloha,
gentlemen."
"Shut up. On your feet, with your hands up," one of the men barked. "Now! Move
it!"
Scully winced as she tried disentangle herself from her partner. She did not
want to think about all the bruises she was going to have to show for their trek
in this godforsaken cave.
They apparently were not moving fast enough. One of the men gave Mulder an
impatient jab to the ribs with his gun muzzle, while another grasped Scully's
arm and pulled her unceremoniously to her feet.
"Hands on your heads where I can see 'em."
"All right, all right. Don't get your panties in a wad." Mulder got another jab
in the ribs as he moved his hands slowly, insolently toward his head.
"Move it! We don't got all day!"
"And you think breaking his ribs is going to make him move more quickly?" Scully
asked sarcastically, even as she reluctantly complied with the orders.
"Shut up. I'll ask the questions here. Let's start with what you're doing in
this part of the cave. Aren't you two wandering a little far from the entrance?"
"We got lost," Scully told them. "Genius over there lost our compass and was
leading us around in circles."
"Hey, *you* had the compass last," Mulder replied angrily. "And I didn't see you
objecting to the direction I was going."
"Because I stupidly assumed you knew where the hell you were going!" she spat
back. Hopefully, their captors would buy their bickering couple routine, so that
they could bide their time and figure out what was going on--and how the hell
they were going to get out of this predicament.
"Search 'em," one of the men told another two. The same man who had questioned
them. From the authority behind the command issued, he was obviously the leader.
Scully stiffened as she was frisked. She was prepared to fight back if the hands
lingered anywhere improper. She winced as a hand stopped at the small of her
back--at her holster.
"Shit! Hey, RB, take a look at this."
"What is it, Socks?"
"She's packing," Socks said, pulling out her Sig Sauer.
"They both are," said another of the men as he produced Mulder's weapon from his
hip.
*Dammit!* Scully cursed silently. There was a chance this was about to get very
ugly. Stealing a glance in her partner's direction, she wondered if he was still
in the habit of wearing his ankle holster.
"Something tells me these aren't two honeymooners on a tour of the caves," the
one called RB said. "What do their id's say?"
One of the men finished patting Mulder down, but not before Mulder had time to
bat his eyes and say, "Was it good for you, too?"
He quickly paid for his indiscretion: A moment later he was on his knees,
wincing from the kidney punch he had received from the butt of the sub-machine
gun. As he tried to catch his breath, his assailant showed RB their id's.
"Agent Fox Mulder of the FBI."
"Shit! Just what we need . . . goddammed Feds," RB growled contemptuously. He
looked Mulder over. He knew this one was going to be a pain in the ass. Then he
looked at the other id that was handed to him. "Dana Scully, also with the
Bureau." The woman, on the other hand . . . quite a looker, despite the dirt and
grime and mysterious white paste that covered her clothing.
"Well, now that you know who we are, would you mind returning the favor?" Scully
asked as she turned to face the quartet. She took the opportunity to
surreptitiously look them over. She now recognized their black clothing as
military-issue Battle Dress Uniforms, similar to the BDUs worn by members of the
SWAT team. They were toting quite a bit of gear in matching black rucksacks.
Each had a Nighthawk light clipped to their headgear and belts, leaving their
hands free for easy access to the sub-machine guns they were sporting. She
noticed that the one closest to her also had a holster for a handgun; she had no
doubt that the other three men carried similar weapons. "Who the hell are you?"
she said bluntly, her eyes boring holes into RB, who she had deduced to be their
leader.
*Oh well,* RB sighed inwardly. *Looks like they're both gonna be trouble.*
Taking a leisurely step closer, RB looked the two scruffy agents over and
laughed for the first time on this mission. "If I told you, I'd have to kill
you." And with that, he signaled his men to herd their captives ahead.
The bright, narrow beams cast by the LED lights on the men's helmets and belts
pierced the inky darkness of the cave, guiding their way. Stumbling noisily as
they were unceremoniously pushed and propelled down an endless labyrinth of
twists and turns, Mulder and Scully could not help but notice how the men barely
made a sound when they walked. Sure-footed, nimble, and almost graceful in their
economic movements, the men advanced though the passageway like ghosts.
"And just where are we headed?" Scully asked as she was prodded ahead by one of
the men's guns.
"You'll find out when we get there," RB replied curtly. "Now shut up and keep
moving."
One of the men--the one RB had referred to as 'Socks'--pulled out an electronic
device. It appeared to be a tracking system of some sort, from the way he was
looking back and forth between the illuminated display and their current path.
Mulder eyed the device surreptitiously. "That the latest government-issue toy?
You grunts get to play with all the fun stuff."
"Any more remarks out of you and the Commander is going to knock you out, Fed or
not," a third man growled.
Commander, huh? Scully's mind began to whirl. That meant they were not army,
marines, nor air force--not that the latter was very likely anyway. RB's rank
indicated that they were Navy. . . .
"What, you're not man enough to do it yourself, tough guy?" Mulder taunted.
He was rewarded with a smack across the back of the head.
From the front of the procession, Scully heard RB say, "Y'know, G-Man, I'm
beginning to think keeping you around is more trouble than it's worth. . . ."
With that, he quickened his pace and moved on ahead of the group.
"Funny, but I've been thinking the same thing lately," Scully murmured.
Socks caught Scully's mutter and guffawed. "Lady, you must have your hands full
with this overgrown schoolboy. Fibbies." He shook his head in mock sorrow.
She decided to make use of the opening he created. "That's pretty high-tech gear
you're sporting there--Socks, did I hear him call you? Not standard military
issue. You guys must be some of the elite, to get use of that kind of
equipment."
Socks said nothing, but she could tell from his stance and the slight curve of
his mouth that his interest was piqued. She was definitely onto something. Time
to see how far she could take this.
"What I can't figure out is why we'd come across a bunch of soldiers down here,"
Scully said matter-of-factly. Her tone was one of mild interest--that of one
discussing the weather, or a puzzling crossword clue. "Obviously looking for
something pretty important. So, what exactly might that be? A secret weapon?
Some sort of natural ore?"
Socks snorted. "Believe me, babe, you wouldn't believe me even if I could tell
ya."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Scully replied cryptically. "C'mon. Agent
Mulder and I are here on a Federal investigation. For all we know, we might be
looking for the same thing."
Socks opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself, thinking better of it.
Then his attention wasshifted to movement up in front of the group.
RB, who had been scouting ahead, came up to them, halting the procession. He
laid a heavy hand on Socks' shoulder. There was familiarity in that gesture, a
degree of fondness. Not just of a commander and his long-standing subordinate,
but of two men who trusted one another, of friends exchanging an unspoken
communication.
"Now, Socks . . . no fraternizing with the prisoners," RB gently chided. There
was no bite to his words. They sounded more like a friendly reminder of standard
protocol.
"Is that what we are?" Scully asked, annoyed. "Your prisoners?"
In the light cast by the LEDs on their helmets, Scully was finally able to get a
good look at the two soldiers. As they both turned toward her, she took the
opportunity to study their faces.
Socks was short and stocky, not quite six feet, but built like a linebacker. He
had olive skin and dark brown eyes. Mediterranean origin, if she had to fathom a
guess, or possibly Central or South American. The Commander was half a head
taller--easily six-three or six-four she estimated. Lighter complexion, square
jaw covered with at least a couple days' worth of stubble. Right now, his blue
eyes were pinning her with an icy gaze.
"For the moment," he replied.
"Now, why is that, considering we're on the same side? We all work for the
government. Why not work together now?"
From several feet behind her, she heard Mulder chime in. "Obviously, because
these tough-guy mercs would never sink to the level of associating themselves
with a couple of pencil-pushing Fibbies. Even if our area of expertise might
actually be of some use to them."
RB snorted. "You gonna explain to me how to fill out some paperwork? How to file
a report?"
"Nah, I just figured I'd start with basic grammar and spelling."
RB's eyes narrowed in contempt. "Don't push me too far, G-Man. It wouldn't be
much effort and would take even less deliberation to break your scrawny little
neck and give us all some peace and quiet." RB paused, turning his attention to
Scully. "Who our employer is, is none of your concern. So don't go worrying your
pretty little red head about such matters."
"Oh, don't worry, Commander. This little redhead isn't concerned with who cuts
your paychecks," she intoned evenly, folding her arms across her chest. "What
I'm trying to figure out is what would a Navy SEALs special ops team be looking
for in an underground Hawaiian cave?"
From behind her, she heard Mulder snigger. Perhaps they could not surpass these
guys in brute force or strength, but she and Mulder could certainly outfox them
when it came to a battle of wits.
Crossing his own massive arms, the commander regarded her for several long
moments. He evidently had misjudged her. That was not a common fault of his; he
was usually damned good at reading people, assessing their talents and their
limitations. Obviously she had figured out they were military from the way they
moved and worked, even if their gear itself or one of his men's little slip had
not given them away. Better to end the conversation now, he decided, and not
give her any more clues as to the true nature of their mission. Besides, they
were already falling way behind schedule. And time was definitely of the essence
today.
"I don't have time to debate this with you--Agent Scully." Somehow, he made her
name sound like an insult. "I have my orders."
Wheeling, he turned his attention back to his men. "Socks, come with me to check
out this trail. You too, Toller. I'll need both of your help. Robbins." RB
snapped his fingers and pointed at the agents.
With a curt nod, Robbins strode in front of his prisoners, toting his gun with
an easy grace. It seemed he had been rewarded with guard duty.
RB moved swiftly into the darkness, Socks and Toller moving with him.
As the trio of SEALs disappeared from sight, Scully took the opportunity to
collapse against the cave wall, giving herself a moment to catch her breath and
regroup her thoughts.
Eying Robbins warily, Mulder walked over to Scully and likewise rested his back
against the side of the passageway. "Scully, what say you use your femi nine
wiles to get some info out of ole stoneface over there?" Mulder suggested in a
hushed tone.
She looked at her partner in irritation. "I don't know, Mulder. I think he's
more your type."
Mulder was about to give her a glare, but then, catching Robbins' eye, he said
loudly, "No, I like them a little more lean and young, if you know what I mean,
Scully."
Mulder stretched luxuriously, as if he had not been hiking for hours, and as
though there was not a gun pointed in his direction.
Only Scully caught his smirk as he sauntered closer to Robbins in that easygoing
way of his. Despite the recent arguments they had had on this trip, that short
exchange of glances was all the communication the partners needed to know what
the other was thinking.
Mulder walked around Robbins slowly, moving his eyes over him like a prospective
buyer at a meat market. "Nice build, wouldn't you agree, Scully? But just a
little too Neanderthal for my taste."
Robbins just flicked his eyes in Mulder's direction once and moved to a position
where he could cover both agents with ease.
Scully made a production of looking Robbins over. "Yeah, way too many muscles,
Mulder. I know how you prefer a swimmer's build." She strolled closer to the
soldier, hips swaying provocatively. "Me, I prefer a little more meat on my men.
And you, Robbins, definitely have enough muscle to go around."
Eying her suspiciously, Robbins shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Hmmm," Scully wondered aloud, devouring Robbins with her eyes. "I'll bet you
can press two, maybe three hundred pounds."
Mulder moved closer to the SEAL. "Hey, I know this great little restaurant on
the beach. Dining by moonlight. . . ."
Scully surreptitiously inched closer to her left while Mulder kept slowly
drifting to the right. Just a little further, and they would have Robbins
between them.
"Is it hot in here?" Scully asked, unzipping her windbreaker, revealing the
tight tee-shirt she wore beneath. Arching her neck to reveal the hollow of her
throat, she slowly slid her hand down her neck, between her breasts.
Robbins let his eyes linger at her chest. She was definitely a babe--even if she
was looking hot and tired and covered in dirt and some sort of foul-smelling
white muck. But she was supposed to be his prisoner, he quickly reminded himself
as he straightened to his full height. Best to stop looking at her that way, and
remember his duties.
"I could sure go for a nice cool swim," Scully was saying.
"Y'know, there's this great underground lake about a mile or so back," Mulder
remarked, cocking his thumb over his shoulder.
". . . yeah, and skinny dipping in the dark is such a delicious feeling," Scully
added with more heat than even she intended.
Mulder's head pivoted towards her in a split second of disbelief. Desire chased
over his face for several long moments as he drank in her provocative pose. He
did a slow blink before he regained control, and remembered the task at hand. He
started practically cooing to Robbins: "We could all go skinny dipping to cool
off. A little threesome to pass the time away?"
What the hell were these two up to? Robbins wondered. Being a soldier--and an
above-average looking one at that--he was used to women flirting with him. Once
or twice, he had even had a man hit on him. But never before had he had both
propositioning him at the same time. It was absurd, he realized. These two were
supposed to be Feds? Somehow he had always pictured Fibbies as being stiff-
necked straight-laced suits. Nothing like these two loonies.
By now, Robbins was sweating heavily. Hostages were supposed to be frightened
rabbits, not hungry wolves. He wished RB and the others would hurry the hell up
and come back.
Robbins was now the point of a forty-five degree angle between Mulder and
Scully. As they moved, he kept backing away, moving his gun back and forth from
Mulder to Scully, who kept moving away from each other and slowly advancing on
him.
"Actually, I was hoping for something a little more private," Scully said,
closing the last of the distance between her and Robbins.
"Where are you going? Get back over there!" he ordered Scully. He turned a mere
fraction of an inch to fully face her. But it was far enough that Mulder just
slipped out of his peripheral vision.
Scully stopped in her tracks and pouted her lips. "But the lake's back that
ways."
At that moment, Mulder lunged for Robbins' gun. The two men began to struggle
for control of the weapon, which was sandwiched between them at chest level.
Scully knew that Mulder would be no match for a Navy SEAL. She had to move
quickly. Darting closer, she reached for the back of Robbins' belt, and
retrieved her own weapon.
Bullets whined as Robbins' gun went off. Scully jumped back out of the way as
the men tumbled to the ground.
Scully pointed her Sig at the two wrestling figures, but could not get a clear
shot. Finally, when the two figures stopped rolling, Robbins had Mulder pinned
in a headlock.
"Freeze!" Scully shouted, leveling her gun at the soldier. "Let him go. Nice and
easy."
Mulder croaked as the soldier tightened his grip and bared his teeth. "No, *you*
drop the gun, Agent Scully. Or else I'll gut your partner like a stuck pig."
He revealed the knife he had retrieved from his boot.
"Well, then you'll both be dead," Scully said evenly, aiming her gun between
Robbins' eyes.
"Scully!" Mulder squeaked. Fine time she picked to play chicken.
Robbins' eyes narrowed. Scully released the safety from her Sig.
It was this tableaux that greeted RB and his two team members. "What the hell is
going on here?" he demanded as the trio approached, weapons drawn.
Scully, who had not heard them coming, nearly jumped at the sound of the voice.
She could not believe how silent their approach had been.
"I knew you two Feds would be nothing but trouble." RB reached over to Scully
and pinched her wrist, plucking the gun from her nerveless hands. "Robbins, I
thought I told you to watch these two."
"I had everything under control, RB."
"Yeah," Socks sneered. "That's why G-woman here was using your forehead as a
bullseye."
Robbins could only lower his eyes in shame. He released his hold on Mulder--but
not before giving him a quick, firm punch to the gut.
Mulder lay writhing on the ground, moaning, trying to catch his breath.
"If you weren't a lady, I'd give you a piece of my mind, too," RB told Scully,
leveling his fist at her nose.
"I guess I should be thankful that chivalry isn't dead," Scully retorted,
glaring at him before moving to her partner's side. "You okay, Mulder?" she
whispered.
"Aside from my new job as whipping boy, I'm just dandy," he muttered.
"Let me be the judge of that," she replied, checking him over for injuries.
As he quietly chastised Robbins, RB watched her with a detached interest, noting
her efficient movements. First aid training surely. He filed the information
away. Ending his gentle reprimand with an encouraging slap to the back, he began
to gather his small band. "Let's go. Time to move out."
"So, what are you guys gonna do now? March us off to some corner and shoot us in
the back?" Scully asked, slowly rising to her feet.
"Believe me, ma'am, nothing would give me greater pleasure right now."
"Believe me, the feeling's mutual," Mulder muttered from his prone position.
"Unfortunately, right now you're both more useful to me alive."
Socks hauled Mulder to a standing position. "Up on your feet. We don't have time
to lounge around," he said, not too unkindly.
"Why the rush?" Scully asked as she was likewise shepherded forward.
She was answered by the incessant beeping of the tracker in Sock's hands.
"Skipper? I don't know how long that these tunnels are going to hold out under
these quakes. If we don't shake a leg, we might not be able to get through."
As if to punctuate his statement, the ground rumbled under their feet and they
were all pelted by a shower of pebbles.
"Where the hell are you taking us? Somebody's going to fill me in, or I will not
move another inch," Scully declared, crossing her arms.
"Lady, don't mess with me right now," the commander warned. "I am not in the
mood for insubordination. If I have to pick you up and carry you over my
shoulder, you are going to move."
"Oo, do I get the royal treatment, too?" Mulder queried.
Scully glared mutinously at RB while Mulder smirked. Her scowl quickly turned to
a gasp of surprise as the commander made good his threat: he picked her up like
a sack of potatoes and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He
began to jog down the tunnel. Toller and Socks quickly followed suit. At the
urging of Robbins' weapon, Mulder joined in the procession.
"Put me down!" Scully shouted, pummeling RB's back with her fists. "Let me go!"
"She's not the kind'a woman that appreciates being swept off her feet," Mulder
remarked to Socks as he followed the group through the passageway.
"Shut up, Mulder!" Scully screamed furiously.
"She always this pleasant?" Socks asked him.
"Part of her charm," Mulder replied. "She grows on you after a while."
"Like a fungus?"
"More like jock itch."
Socks chuckled silently. With the exchange, Mulder realized he had managed to
forge a reluctant truce.
The rumbling began to grow louder, and Scully's continued protests were ignored
as they all picked up the pace and began to run through the tunnel, dodging the
occasional splattering of small stones.
"Hold up!" RB bellowed, bringing the procession to a quick halt. The path ended
abruptly several feet in front of him.
Pushing his way through for a better look, Mulder's eyes widened as he realized
they were standing before a gaping chasm. "Now what?" he asked.
"We go across," RB said, depositing Scully on the ground and signaling to his
men.
Approaching the edge carefully, Mulder looked down at the seemingly endless pit.
His stomach knotted. He had a very bad feeling about this. . . .
Toller knelt and pulled out a small kit from his rucksack. In under a minute
flat, he had assembled what looked like a small, foot-long rocket launcher. He
loaded it with a deadly-looking carbon steel harpoon that had a cable tied
through its center like a thread through the eye of a needle.
Approaching the edge of the canyon, Toller squatted, bracing himself as he set
one foot forward and one foot back. He wordlessly brought the launcher to his
shoulder. He gazed through the attached scope, adjusted his aim as he sighted
his target across the ravine, and squeezed the trigger. With an audible rush of
air, the harpoon and attached cable sped forward like a striking snake,
embedding itself into the rock firmly.
The two agents watched in fascination as Robbins pulled out a metal object no
larger than his hand. Scully peered closer and saw two metal wheels, each with a
grooved rim, attached with metal joints that protruded from the centers of the
wheels. Robbins snapped a joint open and placed the rim of one of the wheels
onto the cable that Socks handed him before snapping the other wheel back into
place. The cable now fit snugly between the two wheels--pulleys, Scully now
realized--one wheel above, and one below. Socks and Robbins worked silently, and
in swift progression, a long rod was assembled and attached to the pulley to
serve as handlebars. A makeshift but sturdy trolley was now in place.
Meanwhile, RB had been threading the free end of the cable into a similar
harpoon, and securing it with several knots. He quickly loaded it into the
launcher, and reminded Toller to adjust the setting for close-range fire. With a
nod, Toller reset the launcher and turned to survey the wall behind them.
"This looks like a good spot," RB said. "Point and shoot."
Once more bracing himself, Toller raised the launcher to his shoulder, aimed,
and fired. The steel arrow whizzed forward, embedding itself into the rock. The
cable was now strung tautly across the abyss at about shoulder height.
RB was now scanning the chasm and testing the cable and trolley with his weight.
It seemed to withhold the strain to his satisfaction.
"Socks, you first. Toller, you help Agent Smartass. I'll get Scully. Robbins,
you take up the rear. Let's go. Move out!"
Scully watched in awe as Socks quickly shouldered his gear.
They really did not expect her and Mulder to follow suit--did they?
Mulder peered down the edge of the cliff. All he could see was darkness below.
He kicked a rock down the ravine and waited to hear it hit the bottom. When the
sound did not come, he grimaced. "Ah shit!"
Toller tossed a harness to Mulder. "You're next, G-Man," he said, helping Mulder
put it on correctly.
"Whatever happened to ladies first?" Mulder asked, looking over his shoulder at
Scully. She locked gazes with him, her own face seeming a shade paler than
usual. At least she was nervous too. Cold comfort, really.
He felt a hand clasp him on the shoulder, startling him. "Last step's a doosey,
eh?" Socks asked with a mischievous grin right before grabbing the trolley. "See
ya on the other side, bud."
With a small wave, he backed up, got a running start, and cast off the edge. He
slid the thirty or so yards across the gaping chasm to the embankment on the
other side. When his feet touched solid ground, he signaled to the others before
sending the trolley back across. Robbins intercepted it.
Toller was checking the connections on Mulder's harness with a casualness that
did not do much for Mulder's nerves. "All set," he said, pushing Mulder toward
the edge and the waiting trolley.
Mulder gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to look down. "You have got to be
kidding me," he remarked nervously as Toller attached his harness to the pulley
with two metal biners.
"Just don't look down. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Focus on Socks on the
other side, and it'll be over before you know it."
Toller signaled for Mulder to back up. Mulder took a deep breath as he
considered the gaping hole ahead of him. "Don't suppose I get a kiss for good
luck?"
He had barely placed his hands on the handlebars (more like a death grip, Scully
would tease him later) when he was abruptly pushed forward by Toller. Mulder
took a running leap and cast off of the edge of the ravine. He gave a shout that
would put Goofy to shame. The ride was unlike any he had been on in his entire
life. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and glorious, all at once. Definitely the
longest fifteen seconds of his life.
When Mulder reached the other side, Socks grabbed hold of the harness, pulled
him to level ground, and unhooked him.
As Mulder struggled to catch his breath, Socks sent the trolley back to Toller.
RB glanced at his watch. "We've got to hustle. The agents are slowing us down.
C'mon, Scully, let's get you into a harness. Double time, Toller."
"Aye-aye Skipper." Backing up twice as much as Socks or Mulder had, Toller took
a running start and jumped off the edge. He flew across the chasm in under ten
seconds.
It took longer for the trolley to return to them. Robbins caught it quickly.
"Let's go, Agent Scully. You're up," he said.
Suddenly, the ground lurched with more force than ever, and they had to vie for
footing. Scully was standing precariously close to the edge, and felt herself
stumbling a bit too close for comfort. RB grabbed her to steady her, pulling her
back. "You okay?" he asked.
Still grasping his arm for support, she nodded at him gratefully. "How do I put
this thing on?" she asked, fumbling with the straps of the harness.
"Here, let me," he said, adjusting it around her waist and legs.
"Shit! Boss, look!" Robbins exclaimed, pointing to the cable.
RB and Scully turned to look. The cable was no longer level, and it now sloped
slightly downward toward their side of the ravine. What was worse, the latest
tremor must have loosened one of the connections; the cable now sagged almost a
yard in the center. That meant it would require even more acceleration to clear
the chasm and propel the rider across.
"Fuck!" He looked down at Scully and shook his head. "How much do you weigh?"
Her eyebrow arched at the untoward question. "You gonna ask me my age while
you're at it?"
"Little thing like her . . . probably less than my gun," Robbins remarked.
"You can't be much more than a hundred," RB said, shaking his head. "That's not
enough weight to get you to the other side. You'd hang in the middle."
"So how do you propose I get to the other side?" Scully queried.
"We'll have to take it together. Here, put your arms around my neck. Robbins,
watch the cable."
Scully hesitated. She did not know if she could trust this man. She would just
as soon take her chances with the cable.
"Get the lead out, Li'l Red. This cable's not gonna last much longer." He bent
down in front of her.
Eyes narrowing contemptuously as he grabbed her by the waist, Scully snaked her
legs around RB's hips and wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the
hard muscles of his chest and shoulders even through the fabric of his BDUs.
Cupping her ass, he slid his hands part-way down her thighs and tucked her legs
more securely around his waist. As he nestled Scully more tightly against him, a
wave of heat emanated from deep within her core, and quickly spread as she
realized that a submachine gun was not the only formidable equipment he was
packing. The pleasurable sensation the sudden contact elicited was enough to
make her reconsider Mulder's suggestion for taking up a career as a lap dancer.
*Why, Commander, is that a concealed weapon, or are you just happy to see me?*
She nearly giggled at the illicit thought. She allowed herself an appreciative
inward sigh before giving herself a little shake and bringing herself back to
business. At least, she hoped the sigh had been inward. . . .
"Hold on tight!" RB gave her a little grin before taking a running leap and
casting them both off into the air.
The abrupt sensation of falling made Scully instinctively grab the commander
more tightly. She buried her face in his neck, holding on for dear life. Her
senses registered the smell of sweat and gunpowder and a scent her mind could
only describe as distinctly male.
With an abrupt jerk, they reached the other side. Scully disentangled herself
from the commander, and he took her by the waist to deposit her onto the ground.
As she began to detach the harness, Scully whispered in a deadly tone, "Touch my
ass again and you're a dead man."
"Well worth the risk," he whispered back with a wink as he turned his attention
to Robbins, who was just retrieving the trolley Socks had sent to him.
Watching the two like a hawk as they whispered to each other, Mulder did a slow
burn.
Was that a smile that crept across Scully's face? She was definitely flushed.
Was that from the thrill of the ride--or something more? He could not be sure.
As he got whiff of the palpable sexual undercurrent exchanged between his
partner and the SEAL commander, for the first time in a long while, jealousy
flared.
Socks offered a sympathetic glance which Mulder missed entirely.
Mulder walked over to his partner just as the commander turned his attention
elsewhere. "Enjoy the ride, Scully?" he asked, his tone perhaps a bit too
accusatory.
She was about to reply when RB's shout cut her off. "Get ready to move out as
soon as Robbins gets here," he told them. "We don't have much time before
another full-blown cave-in, and I want to put as much distance between us and
this ravine as I can."
To punctuate his statement, the ground shook with another growing roar.
"Robbins! Double time! Hustle, man!" RB shouted to him.
Robbins nodded and backed up without delay. As he began to sprint forward, the
ground gave another massive shake, and the cable sank another foot. Lurching
forward on crumbling ground, Robbins lost his footing, and started plunging
across the ravine. He had no sooner cast off when the tunnel behind him
collapsed, and the wall that the held the harpoon in which the cable was
embedded started to give way.
Once again, the ground pulsated violently. Suddenly, the cable snapped, sending
Robbins plunging face-first toward the side of the ravine in a sweeping arc.
Hands grasping the trolley for dear life, he tried to lessen the impactthe only
way he could: with his feet.
All five figures watched in horrified silence as Robbins, a man weighing well
over two hundred pounds, plunged toward the wall below them like a wrecking
ball. At the last moment, the cable twisted, and his body turned sideways. There
was a sickening snap as his foot caught in a crevice a split second before the
rest of his body slammed into the rockface.
Even above the rumbling of the cave-in, they could hear Robbins' agonizing
scream.
The violent sounds broke the temporary paralysis and RB shouted, "C'mon,
somebody help me pull him up!"
Carefully approaching the edge, Scully peered down the chasm. From the light
cast by his belt LED, she could see Robbins dangling, his foot still wedged into
the fissure, his leg twisted out at a disturbingly unnatural angle. "Wait!" she
called to the others.
But it was too late. The three remaining SEALs were already tugging on the
cable. Robbins' body was lifted a few inches, but his foot remained pinned. He
hollered in anguish as his injured leg was jostled.
"Stop!" Scully shrieked. "His foot is trapped. You can't pull him up."
"Fuck!" RB cursed, dropping the cable.
Scully could see his mind at work furiously, searching for an alternative
solution. Abruptly, she saw fierce determination cross his features. "Red, hand
me that harness. I'm goin' down after him."
"Mark, there's no way you can get to him," Socks protested, realizing the crazy
rescue attempt his commander intended.
"Just watch me," RB said, quickly donning the harness Scully handed him.
Socks knew what was coming next. Without wasting breath on arguing, he signaled
to Toller, who quickly approached with the launcher. Socks loaded it with a much
smaller arrow, attached to a thick rope. Toller aimed it at the closest wall,
and pulled the trigger. The steel arrow drilled into the stone, securing a
shorter rope. He quickly cast the free end down the side of the ravine.
"You'll never make it, Mark," Socks quietly protested, even as he helped him
fasten his harness to the lifeline. "If there's another cave-in, you're both
going to die down there."
"Don't go writing my eulogy just yet," RB replied, checking the connection of
his harness to the rope. "Toller, get these civilians to safety," he commanded.
"Wait--what are you doing?" Mulder asked, watching as the SEAL leader backed
toward the cliff's edge.
"I've got a man down. Nobody's left behind on my watch." With that, he began to
rappel down the ravine toward Robbins.
"He's crazy!" Scully exclaimed, peering over the edge to watch his descent.
"That's why we call him RB, ma'am," Socks said, though Scully's attention was
now focused below them.
Getting closer for a better look, Mulder had to admire the graceful descent. RB
made rappelling look easy--but it could not be, not on that rough wall and with
the shaking and falling debris.
Just then, a shower of stalactites began to rain down on them, and Mulder
instinctively pulled his partner back from the edge. Jerking away from his
protective grasp in irritation, Scully's breath caught as a particularly large
chunk of the ceiling fell. She hurried back to the edge, and watched as it
barely missed RB by a couple feet as he continued to rappel down towards
Robbins.
The SEAL commander barely gave it a passing glance, so complete was his
concentration on the task at hand. Unfortunately, even that could not prevent a
strong gust of wind generated by the falling debris from pushing him off course.
"C'mon, Agents," Toller prompted, trying to get them to move.
Engrossed by the rescue attempt, Scully and Mulder ignored him. They watched RB
hugging the face of the chasm, inching his way to where Robbins dangled
helplessly.
Socks just gripped the rope that held his CO and best friend tighter, making
sure it was looped around a rock for extra measure.
Having reached Robbins, RB was now working to extricate his soldier's trapped
foot. Robbins' boot had become wedged tightly into a crevice, and he soon
learned that no amount of pushing or pulling was going to get it free without
damaging his leg or their position.
"Now that he's gotten to him, how's he going to free his leg from the wall?"
Mulder wondered aloud.
In answer to Mulder's question, RB pulled a knife from his belt. He quickly
began to work away at Robbins' bootlaces.
"Guess that's quicker than untying them," Mulder remarked offhandedly.
Socks guffawed. "Ain't possible to untie 'em. Only way to get off a SEAL's
bootlaces is to cut 'em."
"You must go through a hell of a lot of laces that way."
"Beats leaving your boots behind in a pile of mud when you're hiking through a
jungle 'coz you didn't tie 'em tight enough."
"C'mon, you heard the Commander, Agents, let's move out," Toller told them,
quickly growing impatient.
Nodding, Mulder began to follow the soldier. When Scully did not do the same, he
turned back around. "C'mon, Scully, let's go."
"No, he might need our help," she protested, staying put beside Socks. She did
not even bother to glance in Mulder's direction, so deeply was her concentration
focused below on the SEAL commander.
RB may have decided to cut the boot away, but it was was slow and agonizing
business. Just severing the laces was not enough to extricate Robbins' foot. And
the shallow width of the crevice made maneuvering his sizable blade delicate
work--especially since he had to be careful not to cut into flesh. To say
nothing of the fact that he was dealing with a tough, military-issue boot with
thick leather and steel-reinforced toes and plates.
What was worse, anything more than the slightest movement sent a sharp pain
shooting up Robbins' leg. Grimacing, the young SEAL bit down on his lip to keep
from crying out. It was not long before he tasted blood.
RB was so intent on his task that he did not see a falling stalactite coming
down toward him and Robbins--nor could he have dodged it, even if he had.
"Look out!" Scully shouted in warning, but it was already too late.
Luckily, the weight distribution of the stony missile caused it to fall broad-
end down, saving them from being pierced by its tapered point. As it was, the
falling stalactite caught RB a glancing blow on his shoulder. It caused no
serious damage, but it was enough to make him drop his knife.
"Fuck!" RB shouted, watching the knife careen off the wall and tumble down into
the dark abyss below. "Robbins, do you still have your knife?"
"Y-yeah. . . . Scabbard's . . . in my . . . other boot. . . ."
Grunting, RB carefully reached around Robbins in an attempt to grab his knife.
"RB . . . get outta here. . . . Leave me. . . . Save yourself. . . ."
RB ignored the pleas.
Just then, there was another low rumble that RB felt rattle his bones, even as
more debris started falling toward them. He glanced upwards, and caught sight of
Socks staring down at them.
"Socks, you ass, get back to safety! Don't get hit!" RB called up from his
position before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He completed the
final slice through the thick leather. "Sorry, Robbins, this is going to hurt
for a second."
And with no more warning than that, he wrenched Robbins' foot out of the boot,
causing a bubbling keen from the younger SEAL.
"Pull him up!"
Up top, the two SEALs and Mulder worked to hoist the injured man upwards, while
Scully observed his ascent to ensure he was not thrust into any outcroppings on
the ravine wall.
RB watched as the fallen soldier reached the top and was pulled over the edge
and out of sight. He allowed himself a sigh of relief. Now all that remained was
for him to get his own sorry ass topside.
Before beginning his own ascent, he spared another glance upwards. He looked up
in time to see a huge rock, shaken from the cave ceiling, come tumbling down
towards him.
He was going to be hit. There was no time to move sideways--and nowhere to go . . .
. . . but down.
End Chapter 8
*****