Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 10/17
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 10
The group had been hiking for well over an hour in the dank, humid, underground
cave. The path had been headed steadily uphill over sometimes fairly rough
terrain. Commander Riskey had been pushing his band of SEALs and the two agents
hard, hoping to get them all out of there in one piece and the injured Robbins
to a hospital as quickly as possible.
It had been tough going, and the exertion was beginning to take its toll. Socks
and Toller seemed to be coping well--they had endured far worse hikes under much
worse conditions on other missions. But their civilian companions were faring
far worse. They had been falling further and further behind as time went on.
From what Riskey could gather from their brief exchanges, the agents had been
wandering around the cave passageways for well over half the day with few
breaks.
He spared a glance over his shoulder. Mulder's eyes were almost entirely closed,
and he nearly stumbled on the path. Scully, too, looked exhausted--she was
practically dragging her feet. He had to remind himself that they were not
soldiers, not well-trained members of his team. It was a testament to their
endurance that they had not complained at all. Well, except for Mulder's
occasional whine of "Are we there yet?"
Nonetheless, Riskey realized that if he did not let up on them soon, they were
not going to be able to go on any further. And truth to tell, after lugging
around two-hundred plus pounds of dead weight, he could use a little breather
himself.
"Socks, Toller, hold up!" he called ahead.
The two SEALs halted instantly and turned to face him. Their stance was that of
alert readiness, adept hands already headed for their guns. Inwardly, Riskey
beamed with pride at how seasoned his men were, how their training was now so
ingrained, so instinctual, even under these less-than-ideal circumstances. At
moments like these, he realized that countless hours of backbreaking, relentless
practice was well worth the effort.
"What's up, boss-man?" Socks asked.
*Fucking amazing how he always manages to sound so damned cheerful,* Riskey
thought, half in irritation, half in wonder. "Let's stop here for a few minutes
of recon. The path forks up there, and I think we should survey ahead and see
which is the better trail to take," he said, catching Scully's eyes.
Realizing that they were going to get a break, she smiled at him gratefully.
"Socks, you take the left, Toller the right, and report back here in ten
minutes."
"Aye-aye, Commander," Toller said before heading out.
With a wink and a nod, Socks, too, was off.
"How ya doin', Robbins?" RB asked as he carefully lowered him to the ground.
"Okay, Skipper," Robbins replied weakly, wincing as Riskey elevated his bandaged
leg onto a nearby rock.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Thirsty. . . ."
RB pulled out his canteen. He then carefully helped Robbins into a sitting
position so that he could take a drink.
From a few feet away where she stood with her partner, Scully watched Riskey in
awe. It was amazing how this man, who just a couple of hours earlier was
rappelling down a ravine and wielding a knife in the epitome of true machismo
could now cradle this other man's head and tend to him with such tenderness. In
many ways, it seemed that his outward appearance of a rough-and-tumble,
gunslinging, no-shit-taking hardassed Navy SEAL was a front, an act to cover the
kind, gentle soul that lay underneath. Obviously, to some he let his inner self
show, as he did now with Robbins. But how many people were so privy to this side
of him? She wondered what it would take to become one of those people to whom he
let his guard down. Almost immediately afterwards, she questioned why it even
mattered to her.
"I'm gonna go check on Robbins," she said to Mulder.
Nodding, he decided to walk with her.
"How do you feel?" Scully asked Robbins, kneeling beside him. Noting the pallor
of his skin, she briefly felt his forehead with the back of her hand. When she
then gently grasped his wrist to take his pulse, she noticed that his fingers
were cold.
"Well, my leg hurts like bloody murder, ma'am," he admitted. "Don't suppose
you've got any morphine?"
"Unfortunately, I left my doctor's bag at home," she replied sympathetically as
she looked at her watch.
"Yeah, usually she carries an entire pharmacy with her," Mulder informed him.
"I'm always getting into all kinds of trouble."
Robbins managed a small laugh. "I believe it."
Scully forced a smile as she considered Robbins' condition. His pulse rate was
still relatively fast, but it now also felt weaker than the last time she had
checked it. These pulse qualities, as well as his pale complexion and the
coolness of his extremities, were signs of hypovolemic shock. His body was
compensating for the blood loss he had incurred by rerouting blood flow from his
arms and legs to maintain vital organ function. She was worried that if the
shock progressed to late stages, and his body was no longer able to supply an
adequate amount of blood to his heart and brain, he could experience cardiac
arrhythmia, undergo organ damage, or even lapse into a coma. She was heartened
by the fact that thus far, Robbins still seemed alert and was not displaying any
signs of depressed mental status. Nonetheless, she would still have to keep a
close eye on him.
As Robbins and Mulder continued their conversation, Scully rose to her feet and
realized that Riskey was no longer standing with them. Turning, she caught sight
of the commander a few feet away, raising his arms high over his head, threading
his fingers together and pushing upwards. She watched as he then bent over at
the waist and touched the ground easily with both palms, stretching out the
muscles of his lower back. With his BDU tunic having contributed to Robbins'
bandage and his snug white undershirt now soaked with sweat, the ample muscles
of his chest and back were easily outlined. With such a well-defined physique,
it was no wonder he had been able to carry his injured teammate with what
appeared to be little effort for the past hour. Still, that kind of burden had
to be taking its toll.
"Stiff?" Scully asked, walking over to him as he bent an arm back across his
neck and pulled on his elbow to stretch out his shoulder muscles.
"Just gotta shake it out a bit, and then I'll be fine. How about you? How're you
holding up?"
"I'm fine," Scully said, the pat reply instinctual.
He gave her a disbelieving look, but said nothing as he switched arms.
Scully was expecting him to call her on it, to argue that she actually looked
like the walking dead. So she was rather surprised when his only words were to
offer her a drink from his canteen.
"Thanks," she replied, taking a couple small sips before handing it back to him.
He took a few gulps.
"Got any more in there?" Mulder asked, walking over.
RB wordlessly handed him the canteen and Mulder downed several long gulpfuls.
"Too bad it's not something a bit stronger," he replied, handing it back.
"I'd be grateful we have anything to drink at all," Scully snapped in
irritation. "And that the commander and his team are willing to find us a way
out."
"I think we were doing just fine until we came upon the SEALs," Mulder replied,
suddenly on the defensive.
Scully stifled a laugh as she planted her hands on her hips. "Would that be when
we were wallowing in bat guano? Or when you were leading us around in circles?
Or perhaps that was when we fell down the sink hole? I don't know about you,
Mulder, but in my mind, that hardly classifies as 'fine'."
"And you think we're doing any better now? I don't see an exit anywhere in
sight."
"I'm sure the Commander knows what he's doing. He *is* a trained soldier after
all."
"Well, why don't we ask him, hmm?" Mulder turned his attention to the SEAL
leader. "Well, Commander? Do you know how far we are from daylight?"
Agent Mulder was a real piece of work, RB realized. How Scully put up with him
full time was beyond his comprehension. Crossing his arms, Riskey fought the
urge to smile, instead forcing himself to look authoritative. "My guess is under
an hour. The last Socks saw on his tracker, the outside looked to be about a
mile away."
"If we're that close, then what the hell are we doing standing around twiddling
our thumbs? Why aren't we moving?" Mulder demanded.
"Not that I owe you an explanation for my actions, but since you asked, I'll
humor you: my reasoning was two-fold. One, we don't know what sort of damage or
obstacles the cave-in created, so I sent Socks and Toller to go scout ahead and
see what our options look like. Especially since I have two civilians' safety to
worry about, I figured it was best to choose the safest route. I'm sure you can
appreciate that."
"Considering how little we know about this type of terrain, I know *I'm* most
appreciative," Scully piped in.
Mulder shot her a look, but all she did was smile sweetly.
"Secondly," RB continued, "I thought it wise to give everyone a little break to
catch their breath. I know the Bureau does not have the same rigorous physical
training requirements as the military, and quite frankly, I was afraid you
weren't going to be able to keep up."
"Are you telling me I can't maintain your pace for our little hike? I'll have
you know, I run three miles every morning."
"Mulder, you were practically sleep-walking," Scully informed him.
"We've only been on our feet for, what, the past sixteen hours? And you mean to
tell me *you* weren't struggling through this last twenty minutes, Scully? Hell,
even Mr. Macho Navy SEAL commander here was dragging his feet on that last leg."
"In case you hadn't noticed, Mulder, Commander Riskey was toting two hundred or
so extra pounds of weight on his shoulders--more than you even have attached to
your own two feet--so if I were you, I wouldn't--"
"For Christ's sake, Scully, since when did you become his biggest fan? I didn't
take you for the cheerleader type."
"I'm just able to recognize competence when I see it, that's all. What's wrong,
Mulder?" she asked, stepping closer. "Jealous?"
"All right, that's enough!" Riskey shouted. "Stop wasting your energy on
pointless arguments. Agent Scully, while I appreciate the support, I can fight
my own battles. And Agent Mulder, if my leadership decisions do not sit well
with you, may I remind you that you are free to go at any time to try to find
your own way out of these caves. Of course, with the chance of collapse pretty
damned high, I would not suggest wandering off on your own. But the choice, of
course, is yours to make at any time." He held out his hands toward the two
possible paths.
Mulder stood ramrod straight, hands balled into fists, teeth clenched, eyes
narrowed in contempt. Scully watched his jaw working, and wondered what quip
would come out of his mouth next. His eyes shifted to the two passageways, and
for a moment she actually thought he was about to go storming down one of them.
"Personally, I'd rather take my chances. But I have enough common sense to
realize that we all have better odds of getting out of here in one piece if we
cooperate. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though. Besides, Bureau regulations
strictly prohibit me from abandoning my partner during a case."
Scully rolled her eyes. Leave it to Mulder--the posterboy for insubordination
and rule-breaking--to cite federal policy as an excuse for his actions. She was
about to call him on it when she heard a faint noise from behind her.
They all turned to see Toller emerge from the right passageway. Within a few
moments, Socks came jogging out of the other tunnel. They must have their
watches synchronized, Scully realized with a smile.
"Well?" Riskey asked them.
"No go, Skipper," Toller replied, shaking his head. "About a hundred feed ahead,
the path is completely blocked. Probably happened in the cave-in."
"Well, that makes the choice easy enough. Any obstacles you could see, Socks?"
"None visible." Socks seemed to be buzzing with barely-controlled excitement.
RB immediately called him on it. "Socks? What is it, man? What did you find?"
"I was about fifty feet down the path when I spotted a small ravine off to the
side. Much smaller and shallower than the one we crossed before. I got closer to
assess it when the tracker went off. It lit up, clear as day on my display. It's
there, RB. Gotta be somewhere near the ledge that was about twenty-five feet
down. X marks the spot."
"What's going on?" Scully asked.
RB ignored her query. "It's *here*? Bloody hell! How accessible?"
Socks grimaced. "Hard to say. It's somewhere down the narrow chasm. And here's
the weird thing: the tremors that have been shaking the caves seem to be
emanating from there."
"What? How is that possible?"
"Beats the fuck out of me. All I can tell you is that the object appears to be
at the epicenter of the cave-ins. It's there, Mark, and it's powerful."
"Fuck," Riskey muttered, pulling off his helmet and running his fingers over his
short-cropped light brown hair. "This mission has turned into a royal goat
fuck."
"What's going on?" Mulder asked.
"What's this object you two are talking about?" Scully questioned. "And what
does it have to do with the quakes?"
Socks said nothing, his gaze focused on his commanding officer. It was clear
that he was deferring to Riskey's judgment.
RB hesitated, obviously torn. This was a matter of mission security. He was
under strict orders not to disclose any details in regards to this op. At the
same time, he felt obligated to offer some explanation to the two agents. After
all, his decision of how to deal with this matter would have direct consequences
on their general welfare.
"Commander?" Scully asked again, placing a cool hand on his arm. "Please, tell
us what's going on."
Riskey looked down at her, gaze centering on her deep blue eyes. For a moment,
he felt as though she could see straight through him, that he was standing naked
before her. It was the most unnerving sensation. He quickly got a hold of
himself, shook it off. There was no time for daydreaming. He had a mission to
complete, decisions to make.
Riskey took a deep breath, having made up his mind. "During his recon, Socks
located the object that we were sent here to find. This was supposed to be a
locate and retrieve op. Our mission was to bring back this item--at all costs."
"So can't we grab it on our way out?" Mulder suggested.
Riskey snorted, and Socks actually guffawed. "Christ, G-Man, you crack me up!"
Socks chuckled. "It ain't exactly the easiest thing to get at. Why else you
think the government sent a SEAL team to get it?"
"Well, how hard is it to retrieve?" Mulder asked. "Is it a matter of rappelling
down another cliff? The Commander here seems to have that trick mastered. So
it'll be a short digression, that's all."
"Don't you get it?" RB said. "This thing has some mysterious energy, some
unknown power source that could very well be generating the tremors. It's
already in a precarious location. If we try to retrieve it, we may disturb it
and trigger another cave-in."
"Then that's reason enough to just leave it be," Scully said. "Commander, you've
got an injured man in dire need of medical assistance. An open fracture is
automatically considered contaminated. We've got roughly six hours from the time
of injury to get him treated before the wound is considered infected. In other
words, the longer it takes to get Robbins to a hospital, the worse his
prognosis. We've already lost almost two hours. We really don't have time to
stand here debating the matter."
"She's right, RB," Socks agreed. "We've gotta get Robbins outta here. And these
Feds aren't gonna last too much longer either. I say we scrap the mission and
just get the hell out."
The commander seemed torn. His obligations to his injured teammate and to his
unexpected civilian charges were compelling. But so was the chance to complete
this mission. He recognized the fact that it was largely a matter of pride.
During his years as team leader, he had always achieved his mission objectives.
Rarely had he ever even had a man injured. His record was one of the best in the
history of the SEALs, so he was finding it very difficult to just walk away from
his goal when it was practically within his reach. Though the reasons to let it
go were quite persuasive, he felt as though he had to at least give it a try.
And part of what made him such a successful commander--one of the main reasons
his record was so impeccable--was because he was willing to go that extra mile,
to shoulder that additional risk.
*So, what's it going to be, RB?* he asked himself.
"RB?" Socks asked. "Don't tell me you're actually considering retrieving the
object? Christ, I knew I shouldn't have told you. . . ."
"Socks, we have our orders," Riskey began. He knew he was going to have some
serious convincing to do. Socks was not only a skilled soldier, he was also a
good friend--his closest, in fact. Which meant that he was not hesitant to speak
his mind to RB, even when the average soldier would hold his tongue. While
Riskey normally appreciated such candor, there were times when he wished Socks
would just remain obedient and follow his orders without questioning them.
Needless to say, he was not expecting the most vehement objections to come from
Agent Scully.
"To hell with your orders! You have a man down, Commander. Robbins is showing
signs of shock. It is my expert *medical* opinion that the more time you waste,
the greater his chance of losing his leg, if not his life. You already risked
your life to save his. Do you really want that to have been in vain? Is any
goddammed mission objective worth that kind of sacrifice? Do you want that kind
of responsibility on your shoulders?"
She stared at him, face flushed, eyes flashing, chest heaving from her outburst.
She was positively livid. And all Riskey could think was, *Lord, is she
beautiful when she's angry.*
She *was* right, though. It was not fair to put Robbins at any more risk than he
already was. Nor was it fair to endanger her or Mulder by keeping them in these
unpredictable caves any longer than was absolutely necessary. Which left him
with only one other possible recourse. . . .
"Socks, I want you and Toller to take Robbins and the Feds and head for the
entrance."
The other man looked at his superior in disbelief. "While you do what?"
"I'm gonna try to retrieve the object."
"You can't be serious!"
"Perfectly. I'm going to try to get it. As soon as I do, I'll catch up. I
shouldn't be more than fifteen, twenty minutes at the most."
"Forget it, RB. It's too dangerous to attempt without backup."
"When has that ever stopped me before? Socks, it's close. I've got to at least
try."
Socks shook his head. "Mark, please reconsider. C'mon, man, what's one of the
first rules you beat into us about SpecWar? Never operate without backup. We
don't dive without a swim buddy, we don't rappel without a partner. I can't
leave you behind in good conscience."
"You don't have a choice."
"Mark, please don't do this."
"I've already made up my mind," Riskey said, reaching into his pack for the
necessary gear. "Get ready to move out."
"But Mark--"
"You've got your orders, soldier. I said move out."
"No."
RB looked up from his satchel. "What did you say?"
"I said 'No'. I won't leave you behind." Socks stood with his arms at his sides.
Riskey's face suddenly hardened. In two long strides, he closed the distance
between them. "Are you disobeying a direct order, Lieutenant Xanthos?" Riskey
growled, moving his face into Socks'.
"Damn straight, I am." Socks' fists tightened.
"You sonuva--" RB raised his arm.
"All right, that's enough!" Scully shouted, quickly stepping between the two
soldiers. She placed a firm hand on either man's chest, pushing them apart. "We
don't have time for this argument. So please reign in your testosterone and stop
all this macho posturing. We need to get out of here now, and we need to do it
together."
"Agent Scully, kindly remove your hand and step out of the way," Riskey
grumbled.
"I will not. Our best chance of getting out of here alive is to work together.
Commander, we need your expertise, your guidance, to do that."
"I'm warning you, Scully--"
"Forget it, Scully," Mulder told her. "If these two grunts wanna duke it out,
let 'em. Let's just go--"
At that moment, the ground lurched violently, sending everyone stumbling for
purchase. The rumbling did not subside, and bits of rock loosened from the walls
and ceiling were quickly beginning to rain down on them.
"Fuck! It's another cave-in! Everyone into the left corridor!" Riskey shouted.
He looked around quickly, assessing the situation. Toller was nearest Robbins,
Socks closest to Mulder. "Toller, grab Robbins! Socks, help the Feds!"
Toller made his way to Robbins, lifted the other SEAL in a fireman's carry, and
headed for the tunnel right behind Mulder and Socks. Riskey and Scully took up
the rear.
RB watched Socks and Mulder disappear into the darkness, just missing a sizable
falling boulder. For a moment, his attention was focused on Toller, who stumbled
under a particularly violent lurch, but quickly regained his footing. He heard
Scully cry out a moment before she disappeared from his peripheral vision.
Turning around, he saw her on the ground, having been thrown off her feet. He
hurried back to her, grabbed her by the armpits, and roughly hoisted her to her
feet. It was difficult for her to find her footing in the fierce quakes. He
debated picking her up, but instead opted to take her hand and guide her to the
passageway--which essentially meant dragging her behind him.
They were about two yards shy of the opening when a huge boulder fell directly
in their path. Looking up, Riskey realized that an extended ledge in the ceiling
above them, which formed an archway in the cave, was crumbling. Any attempt to
pass through the entrance under the archway meant navigating the falling debris.
Which amounted to the considerable risk of being crushed beneath the rubble.
Piss-poor odds as far as he was concerned.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw that jutting out from the wall to the left
was a stone awning, seemingly reinforced and unlikely to collapse or even
crumble.
Another large rock falling a mere foot in front of them made his decision for
him. Tightening his hold on Scully's hand, he darted to the left, yanking her
along with him. He thought he could make out her shouts of protest, but he did
not waste the energy on trying to explain his reasoning to her. It was not like
she would be able to hear him anyway.
In a few seconds, they had sprinted to the wall, and he pulled her in beside him
against the rockface and squatted down.
Scully looked up at him, and in the dim illumination from the light on his
helmet, he could see the expression of utter terror on her pale face. It tugged
at his heart. His gut instinct was to do whatever was in his power to protect
her and keep her from harm.
A stalactite fell just beyond their hiding place. Startled, Scully gave a sharp
yelp, grabbing onto him tightly and ducking her head into his chest. He wrapped
one arm around her back and the other over her head in a vain attempt to shield
her body from any falling debris. He wondered if the others had made it through
all right, hoped that they had managed to find similar shelter in which to wait
out the storm of falling rock.
Holding her tight, he closed his eyes and prayed that whatever was going to
happen, it would be over soon.
End Chapter 10
*****
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 10
The group had been hiking for well over an hour in the dank, humid, underground
cave. The path had been headed steadily uphill over sometimes fairly rough
terrain. Commander Riskey had been pushing his band of SEALs and the two agents
hard, hoping to get them all out of there in one piece and the injured Robbins
to a hospital as quickly as possible.
It had been tough going, and the exertion was beginning to take its toll. Socks
and Toller seemed to be coping well--they had endured far worse hikes under much
worse conditions on other missions. But their civilian companions were faring
far worse. They had been falling further and further behind as time went on.
From what Riskey could gather from their brief exchanges, the agents had been
wandering around the cave passageways for well over half the day with few
breaks.
He spared a glance over his shoulder. Mulder's eyes were almost entirely closed,
and he nearly stumbled on the path. Scully, too, looked exhausted--she was
practically dragging her feet. He had to remind himself that they were not
soldiers, not well-trained members of his team. It was a testament to their
endurance that they had not complained at all. Well, except for Mulder's
occasional whine of "Are we there yet?"
Nonetheless, Riskey realized that if he did not let up on them soon, they were
not going to be able to go on any further. And truth to tell, after lugging
around two-hundred plus pounds of dead weight, he could use a little breather
himself.
"Socks, Toller, hold up!" he called ahead.
The two SEALs halted instantly and turned to face him. Their stance was that of
alert readiness, adept hands already headed for their guns. Inwardly, Riskey
beamed with pride at how seasoned his men were, how their training was now so
ingrained, so instinctual, even under these less-than-ideal circumstances. At
moments like these, he realized that countless hours of backbreaking, relentless
practice was well worth the effort.
"What's up, boss-man?" Socks asked.
*Fucking amazing how he always manages to sound so damned cheerful,* Riskey
thought, half in irritation, half in wonder. "Let's stop here for a few minutes
of recon. The path forks up there, and I think we should survey ahead and see
which is the better trail to take," he said, catching Scully's eyes.
Realizing that they were going to get a break, she smiled at him gratefully.
"Socks, you take the left, Toller the right, and report back here in ten
minutes."
"Aye-aye, Commander," Toller said before heading out.
With a wink and a nod, Socks, too, was off.
"How ya doin', Robbins?" RB asked as he carefully lowered him to the ground.
"Okay, Skipper," Robbins replied weakly, wincing as Riskey elevated his bandaged
leg onto a nearby rock.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Thirsty. . . ."
RB pulled out his canteen. He then carefully helped Robbins into a sitting
position so that he could take a drink.
From a few feet away where she stood with her partner, Scully watched Riskey in
awe. It was amazing how this man, who just a couple of hours earlier was
rappelling down a ravine and wielding a knife in the epitome of true machismo
could now cradle this other man's head and tend to him with such tenderness. In
many ways, it seemed that his outward appearance of a rough-and-tumble,
gunslinging, no-shit-taking hardassed Navy SEAL was a front, an act to cover the
kind, gentle soul that lay underneath. Obviously, to some he let his inner self
show, as he did now with Robbins. But how many people were so privy to this side
of him? She wondered what it would take to become one of those people to whom he
let his guard down. Almost immediately afterwards, she questioned why it even
mattered to her.
"I'm gonna go check on Robbins," she said to Mulder.
Nodding, he decided to walk with her.
"How do you feel?" Scully asked Robbins, kneeling beside him. Noting the pallor
of his skin, she briefly felt his forehead with the back of her hand. When she
then gently grasped his wrist to take his pulse, she noticed that his fingers
were cold.
"Well, my leg hurts like bloody murder, ma'am," he admitted. "Don't suppose
you've got any morphine?"
"Unfortunately, I left my doctor's bag at home," she replied sympathetically as
she looked at her watch.
"Yeah, usually she carries an entire pharmacy with her," Mulder informed him.
"I'm always getting into all kinds of trouble."
Robbins managed a small laugh. "I believe it."
Scully forced a smile as she considered Robbins' condition. His pulse rate was
still relatively fast, but it now also felt weaker than the last time she had
checked it. These pulse qualities, as well as his pale complexion and the
coolness of his extremities, were signs of hypovolemic shock. His body was
compensating for the blood loss he had incurred by rerouting blood flow from his
arms and legs to maintain vital organ function. She was worried that if the
shock progressed to late stages, and his body was no longer able to supply an
adequate amount of blood to his heart and brain, he could experience cardiac
arrhythmia, undergo organ damage, or even lapse into a coma. She was heartened
by the fact that thus far, Robbins still seemed alert and was not displaying any
signs of depressed mental status. Nonetheless, she would still have to keep a
close eye on him.
As Robbins and Mulder continued their conversation, Scully rose to her feet and
realized that Riskey was no longer standing with them. Turning, she caught sight
of the commander a few feet away, raising his arms high over his head, threading
his fingers together and pushing upwards. She watched as he then bent over at
the waist and touched the ground easily with both palms, stretching out the
muscles of his lower back. With his BDU tunic having contributed to Robbins'
bandage and his snug white undershirt now soaked with sweat, the ample muscles
of his chest and back were easily outlined. With such a well-defined physique,
it was no wonder he had been able to carry his injured teammate with what
appeared to be little effort for the past hour. Still, that kind of burden had
to be taking its toll.
"Stiff?" Scully asked, walking over to him as he bent an arm back across his
neck and pulled on his elbow to stretch out his shoulder muscles.
"Just gotta shake it out a bit, and then I'll be fine. How about you? How're you
holding up?"
"I'm fine," Scully said, the pat reply instinctual.
He gave her a disbelieving look, but said nothing as he switched arms.
Scully was expecting him to call her on it, to argue that she actually looked
like the walking dead. So she was rather surprised when his only words were to
offer her a drink from his canteen.
"Thanks," she replied, taking a couple small sips before handing it back to him.
He took a few gulps.
"Got any more in there?" Mulder asked, walking over.
RB wordlessly handed him the canteen and Mulder downed several long gulpfuls.
"Too bad it's not something a bit stronger," he replied, handing it back.
"I'd be grateful we have anything to drink at all," Scully snapped in
irritation. "And that the commander and his team are willing to find us a way
out."
"I think we were doing just fine until we came upon the SEALs," Mulder replied,
suddenly on the defensive.
Scully stifled a laugh as she planted her hands on her hips. "Would that be when
we were wallowing in bat guano? Or when you were leading us around in circles?
Or perhaps that was when we fell down the sink hole? I don't know about you,
Mulder, but in my mind, that hardly classifies as 'fine'."
"And you think we're doing any better now? I don't see an exit anywhere in
sight."
"I'm sure the Commander knows what he's doing. He *is* a trained soldier after
all."
"Well, why don't we ask him, hmm?" Mulder turned his attention to the SEAL
leader. "Well, Commander? Do you know how far we are from daylight?"
Agent Mulder was a real piece of work, RB realized. How Scully put up with him
full time was beyond his comprehension. Crossing his arms, Riskey fought the
urge to smile, instead forcing himself to look authoritative. "My guess is under
an hour. The last Socks saw on his tracker, the outside looked to be about a
mile away."
"If we're that close, then what the hell are we doing standing around twiddling
our thumbs? Why aren't we moving?" Mulder demanded.
"Not that I owe you an explanation for my actions, but since you asked, I'll
humor you: my reasoning was two-fold. One, we don't know what sort of damage or
obstacles the cave-in created, so I sent Socks and Toller to go scout ahead and
see what our options look like. Especially since I have two civilians' safety to
worry about, I figured it was best to choose the safest route. I'm sure you can
appreciate that."
"Considering how little we know about this type of terrain, I know *I'm* most
appreciative," Scully piped in.
Mulder shot her a look, but all she did was smile sweetly.
"Secondly," RB continued, "I thought it wise to give everyone a little break to
catch their breath. I know the Bureau does not have the same rigorous physical
training requirements as the military, and quite frankly, I was afraid you
weren't going to be able to keep up."
"Are you telling me I can't maintain your pace for our little hike? I'll have
you know, I run three miles every morning."
"Mulder, you were practically sleep-walking," Scully informed him.
"We've only been on our feet for, what, the past sixteen hours? And you mean to
tell me *you* weren't struggling through this last twenty minutes, Scully? Hell,
even Mr. Macho Navy SEAL commander here was dragging his feet on that last leg."
"In case you hadn't noticed, Mulder, Commander Riskey was toting two hundred or
so extra pounds of weight on his shoulders--more than you even have attached to
your own two feet--so if I were you, I wouldn't--"
"For Christ's sake, Scully, since when did you become his biggest fan? I didn't
take you for the cheerleader type."
"I'm just able to recognize competence when I see it, that's all. What's wrong,
Mulder?" she asked, stepping closer. "Jealous?"
"All right, that's enough!" Riskey shouted. "Stop wasting your energy on
pointless arguments. Agent Scully, while I appreciate the support, I can fight
my own battles. And Agent Mulder, if my leadership decisions do not sit well
with you, may I remind you that you are free to go at any time to try to find
your own way out of these caves. Of course, with the chance of collapse pretty
damned high, I would not suggest wandering off on your own. But the choice, of
course, is yours to make at any time." He held out his hands toward the two
possible paths.
Mulder stood ramrod straight, hands balled into fists, teeth clenched, eyes
narrowed in contempt. Scully watched his jaw working, and wondered what quip
would come out of his mouth next. His eyes shifted to the two passageways, and
for a moment she actually thought he was about to go storming down one of them.
"Personally, I'd rather take my chances. But I have enough common sense to
realize that we all have better odds of getting out of here in one piece if we
cooperate. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though. Besides, Bureau regulations
strictly prohibit me from abandoning my partner during a case."
Scully rolled her eyes. Leave it to Mulder--the posterboy for insubordination
and rule-breaking--to cite federal policy as an excuse for his actions. She was
about to call him on it when she heard a faint noise from behind her.
They all turned to see Toller emerge from the right passageway. Within a few
moments, Socks came jogging out of the other tunnel. They must have their
watches synchronized, Scully realized with a smile.
"Well?" Riskey asked them.
"No go, Skipper," Toller replied, shaking his head. "About a hundred feed ahead,
the path is completely blocked. Probably happened in the cave-in."
"Well, that makes the choice easy enough. Any obstacles you could see, Socks?"
"None visible." Socks seemed to be buzzing with barely-controlled excitement.
RB immediately called him on it. "Socks? What is it, man? What did you find?"
"I was about fifty feet down the path when I spotted a small ravine off to the
side. Much smaller and shallower than the one we crossed before. I got closer to
assess it when the tracker went off. It lit up, clear as day on my display. It's
there, RB. Gotta be somewhere near the ledge that was about twenty-five feet
down. X marks the spot."
"What's going on?" Scully asked.
RB ignored her query. "It's *here*? Bloody hell! How accessible?"
Socks grimaced. "Hard to say. It's somewhere down the narrow chasm. And here's
the weird thing: the tremors that have been shaking the caves seem to be
emanating from there."
"What? How is that possible?"
"Beats the fuck out of me. All I can tell you is that the object appears to be
at the epicenter of the cave-ins. It's there, Mark, and it's powerful."
"Fuck," Riskey muttered, pulling off his helmet and running his fingers over his
short-cropped light brown hair. "This mission has turned into a royal goat
fuck."
"What's going on?" Mulder asked.
"What's this object you two are talking about?" Scully questioned. "And what
does it have to do with the quakes?"
Socks said nothing, his gaze focused on his commanding officer. It was clear
that he was deferring to Riskey's judgment.
RB hesitated, obviously torn. This was a matter of mission security. He was
under strict orders not to disclose any details in regards to this op. At the
same time, he felt obligated to offer some explanation to the two agents. After
all, his decision of how to deal with this matter would have direct consequences
on their general welfare.
"Commander?" Scully asked again, placing a cool hand on his arm. "Please, tell
us what's going on."
Riskey looked down at her, gaze centering on her deep blue eyes. For a moment,
he felt as though she could see straight through him, that he was standing naked
before her. It was the most unnerving sensation. He quickly got a hold of
himself, shook it off. There was no time for daydreaming. He had a mission to
complete, decisions to make.
Riskey took a deep breath, having made up his mind. "During his recon, Socks
located the object that we were sent here to find. This was supposed to be a
locate and retrieve op. Our mission was to bring back this item--at all costs."
"So can't we grab it on our way out?" Mulder suggested.
Riskey snorted, and Socks actually guffawed. "Christ, G-Man, you crack me up!"
Socks chuckled. "It ain't exactly the easiest thing to get at. Why else you
think the government sent a SEAL team to get it?"
"Well, how hard is it to retrieve?" Mulder asked. "Is it a matter of rappelling
down another cliff? The Commander here seems to have that trick mastered. So
it'll be a short digression, that's all."
"Don't you get it?" RB said. "This thing has some mysterious energy, some
unknown power source that could very well be generating the tremors. It's
already in a precarious location. If we try to retrieve it, we may disturb it
and trigger another cave-in."
"Then that's reason enough to just leave it be," Scully said. "Commander, you've
got an injured man in dire need of medical assistance. An open fracture is
automatically considered contaminated. We've got roughly six hours from the time
of injury to get him treated before the wound is considered infected. In other
words, the longer it takes to get Robbins to a hospital, the worse his
prognosis. We've already lost almost two hours. We really don't have time to
stand here debating the matter."
"She's right, RB," Socks agreed. "We've gotta get Robbins outta here. And these
Feds aren't gonna last too much longer either. I say we scrap the mission and
just get the hell out."
The commander seemed torn. His obligations to his injured teammate and to his
unexpected civilian charges were compelling. But so was the chance to complete
this mission. He recognized the fact that it was largely a matter of pride.
During his years as team leader, he had always achieved his mission objectives.
Rarely had he ever even had a man injured. His record was one of the best in the
history of the SEALs, so he was finding it very difficult to just walk away from
his goal when it was practically within his reach. Though the reasons to let it
go were quite persuasive, he felt as though he had to at least give it a try.
And part of what made him such a successful commander--one of the main reasons
his record was so impeccable--was because he was willing to go that extra mile,
to shoulder that additional risk.
*So, what's it going to be, RB?* he asked himself.
"RB?" Socks asked. "Don't tell me you're actually considering retrieving the
object? Christ, I knew I shouldn't have told you. . . ."
"Socks, we have our orders," Riskey began. He knew he was going to have some
serious convincing to do. Socks was not only a skilled soldier, he was also a
good friend--his closest, in fact. Which meant that he was not hesitant to speak
his mind to RB, even when the average soldier would hold his tongue. While
Riskey normally appreciated such candor, there were times when he wished Socks
would just remain obedient and follow his orders without questioning them.
Needless to say, he was not expecting the most vehement objections to come from
Agent Scully.
"To hell with your orders! You have a man down, Commander. Robbins is showing
signs of shock. It is my expert *medical* opinion that the more time you waste,
the greater his chance of losing his leg, if not his life. You already risked
your life to save his. Do you really want that to have been in vain? Is any
goddammed mission objective worth that kind of sacrifice? Do you want that kind
of responsibility on your shoulders?"
She stared at him, face flushed, eyes flashing, chest heaving from her outburst.
She was positively livid. And all Riskey could think was, *Lord, is she
beautiful when she's angry.*
She *was* right, though. It was not fair to put Robbins at any more risk than he
already was. Nor was it fair to endanger her or Mulder by keeping them in these
unpredictable caves any longer than was absolutely necessary. Which left him
with only one other possible recourse. . . .
"Socks, I want you and Toller to take Robbins and the Feds and head for the
entrance."
The other man looked at his superior in disbelief. "While you do what?"
"I'm gonna try to retrieve the object."
"You can't be serious!"
"Perfectly. I'm going to try to get it. As soon as I do, I'll catch up. I
shouldn't be more than fifteen, twenty minutes at the most."
"Forget it, RB. It's too dangerous to attempt without backup."
"When has that ever stopped me before? Socks, it's close. I've got to at least
try."
Socks shook his head. "Mark, please reconsider. C'mon, man, what's one of the
first rules you beat into us about SpecWar? Never operate without backup. We
don't dive without a swim buddy, we don't rappel without a partner. I can't
leave you behind in good conscience."
"You don't have a choice."
"Mark, please don't do this."
"I've already made up my mind," Riskey said, reaching into his pack for the
necessary gear. "Get ready to move out."
"But Mark--"
"You've got your orders, soldier. I said move out."
"No."
RB looked up from his satchel. "What did you say?"
"I said 'No'. I won't leave you behind." Socks stood with his arms at his sides.
Riskey's face suddenly hardened. In two long strides, he closed the distance
between them. "Are you disobeying a direct order, Lieutenant Xanthos?" Riskey
growled, moving his face into Socks'.
"Damn straight, I am." Socks' fists tightened.
"You sonuva--" RB raised his arm.
"All right, that's enough!" Scully shouted, quickly stepping between the two
soldiers. She placed a firm hand on either man's chest, pushing them apart. "We
don't have time for this argument. So please reign in your testosterone and stop
all this macho posturing. We need to get out of here now, and we need to do it
together."
"Agent Scully, kindly remove your hand and step out of the way," Riskey
grumbled.
"I will not. Our best chance of getting out of here alive is to work together.
Commander, we need your expertise, your guidance, to do that."
"I'm warning you, Scully--"
"Forget it, Scully," Mulder told her. "If these two grunts wanna duke it out,
let 'em. Let's just go--"
At that moment, the ground lurched violently, sending everyone stumbling for
purchase. The rumbling did not subside, and bits of rock loosened from the walls
and ceiling were quickly beginning to rain down on them.
"Fuck! It's another cave-in! Everyone into the left corridor!" Riskey shouted.
He looked around quickly, assessing the situation. Toller was nearest Robbins,
Socks closest to Mulder. "Toller, grab Robbins! Socks, help the Feds!"
Toller made his way to Robbins, lifted the other SEAL in a fireman's carry, and
headed for the tunnel right behind Mulder and Socks. Riskey and Scully took up
the rear.
RB watched Socks and Mulder disappear into the darkness, just missing a sizable
falling boulder. For a moment, his attention was focused on Toller, who stumbled
under a particularly violent lurch, but quickly regained his footing. He heard
Scully cry out a moment before she disappeared from his peripheral vision.
Turning around, he saw her on the ground, having been thrown off her feet. He
hurried back to her, grabbed her by the armpits, and roughly hoisted her to her
feet. It was difficult for her to find her footing in the fierce quakes. He
debated picking her up, but instead opted to take her hand and guide her to the
passageway--which essentially meant dragging her behind him.
They were about two yards shy of the opening when a huge boulder fell directly
in their path. Looking up, Riskey realized that an extended ledge in the ceiling
above them, which formed an archway in the cave, was crumbling. Any attempt to
pass through the entrance under the archway meant navigating the falling debris.
Which amounted to the considerable risk of being crushed beneath the rubble.
Piss-poor odds as far as he was concerned.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw that jutting out from the wall to the left
was a stone awning, seemingly reinforced and unlikely to collapse or even
crumble.
Another large rock falling a mere foot in front of them made his decision for
him. Tightening his hold on Scully's hand, he darted to the left, yanking her
along with him. He thought he could make out her shouts of protest, but he did
not waste the energy on trying to explain his reasoning to her. It was not like
she would be able to hear him anyway.
In a few seconds, they had sprinted to the wall, and he pulled her in beside him
against the rockface and squatted down.
Scully looked up at him, and in the dim illumination from the light on his
helmet, he could see the expression of utter terror on her pale face. It tugged
at his heart. His gut instinct was to do whatever was in his power to protect
her and keep her from harm.
A stalactite fell just beyond their hiding place. Startled, Scully gave a sharp
yelp, grabbing onto him tightly and ducking her head into his chest. He wrapped
one arm around her back and the other over her head in a vain attempt to shield
her body from any falling debris. He wondered if the others had made it through
all right, hoped that they had managed to find similar shelter in which to wait
out the storm of falling rock.
Holding her tight, he closed his eyes and prayed that whatever was going to
happen, it would be over soon.
End Chapter 10
*****