Sydney flexed her arms again, trying to loosen the rough rope that circled her wrists. Her stomach still churned. It was bad enough witnessing a brutal, senseless murder. Knowing that the girl died in her place only exacerbated Sydney's guilt. LeiLani had been selected for her shared Hawaiian heritage with, and physical resemblance to, the female relic hunter.
Sydney's forehead was braced against the heavenly coolness of a tiled wall. Every inch of her body ached. Attila had no qualms about striking a woman and no sense of fair play. She'd been little more than a living, breathing punching bag to the would-be warrior. She hadn't been questioned, nor was she given any explanation for the beating. And an utter lack of reaction among the young guards told Sydney that this line of cruelty was nothing new to them.
None of this made sense. She had been ostensibly enlisted to find the Sword of Mars, but had yet to do any searching. Another woman had been taken on her account, yet she remained alive. The contradictions were snowballing and she was no closer to understanding any of it.
A girl arrived, a child of no more than ten. Short blond hair spiked out from a babyish face, and curious green eyes stared at the older woman's brown ones. The little girl slid a tray to the floor and silently pressed food between Sydney's lips, alternating with sips of water and some kind of bitter, unsweetened tea. Mismatched clothing hung loosely on the girl's thin frame. A dressy pink lace blouse topped grungy jeans, and a green sock covered one foot, while the other was deep mustard yellow. She shuffled around in worn huarachi sandals that looked to be about one size too large.
Once the meal was completed, the child untied Sydney and walked to a blank corner in the featureless room. The little girl scooted down the wall and sat on the bare wood floor, her expression expectant.
Too surprised for words, Sydney pushed herself up, fighting off a wave of nausea. "Um, does this mean I can go?" she finally managed. Her words sounded tinny and distant to her ears.
The child said nothing, merely pointed at the door.
Syd rose unsteadily and stumbled toward the portal. Her feet suddenly seemed disconnected and awkward, and only determination drove her on. She encountered a few of the kids in the corridors, but she was having a hard time remembering which direction she was going or where she had been. Fortunately, a helpful young man of about twelve offered to guide her. He led her to another door and set her hand on the knob. "Your friend is waiting," he said with a slight lisp.
"Thank you," Sydney said politely. She pushed the door open and broke into a huge smile. "Nigel!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "Long time no see! How's it going?" She stumbled forward and gave him a big kiss, giggling when his jaw went slack in surprise. "I think they drugged me," she confided.
Then, she promptly passed out.
Nigel moaned. "Sydney…" He was worried about his colleague, but he himself had broken into a cold sweat. When she collapsed against him, his body reminded him forcefully of why he'd been in the hospital to begin with, and why he was supposed to still be in the hospital. He raised his eyes to the stout figure that sneered at him from a nearby chair. "All right, Attila, I'm here. I brought the key, and I have my translation manuals. You don't need Sydney any more. Just let her go."
Attila shrugged. "When I get my sword, who knows? I might be generous. But until then, nobody leaves. I was disappointed in the woman. She's not very inventive, is she?"
Hurting or not, the little Englishman choked on that. "Sydney? Look, you've beaten her, then you poured God only knows what drugs into her system. Nobody can function like that." Nigel did his best to cradle his friend's unconscious form against him. He was used to hiding in the background while Sydney kicked butt, and he felt woefully inadequate when the situation was reversed. Hell, at the moment he WAS woefully inadequate. Being shot sort of put a damper on his more heroic aspirations.
"You're the brains of this operation. I've been watching you both. You were only supposed to be grazed, not half killed."
"Thank you," Nigel replied with a contemptful sniff.
The older man leaned forward, eyes glittering with anger. "Don't become annoying, Nigel. I collected you and your boss because together you're the best. But just remember, in the end the most successful relic hunter is the one who survives." Sensing Nigel's capitulation to that logic, Attila leaned back, relaxing. "You are a very pretty boy. It would be a pity to ruin that face. I'd suggest you refrain from angering me. I can keep you alive without keeping you in presentable condition."
Nigel swallowed. "What next?"
"Next, you find my sword. I have the manuscript and you have the key. Our limousine should be here any moment. The three musketeers should play along quite nicely. Ironic how easy it is to manipulate an intelligent man." There was a commotion and moments later, Byers, Langley, and Frohike were pushed through the narrow door. "I believe that's Larry, Moe, and Curley now. I think you'll find them quite helpful, in a bumbling sort of way."
Nigel bit back a snide remark. He'd only met the Lone Gunmen once, but he knew that Mulder & Scully trusted the trio without reservation. He breathed a quick prayer of thanks. He knew of the underground publication and had heard of the things they could do with technology. He tried to ignore their appearance and remind himself that they were the good guys.
He buried the thought that if this was the cavalry, they were in big trouble.
"Boys, can you hear me?"
Scully's voice caressed Frohike's ear. The vertically challenged computer expert performed a subtle adjustment to the tiny radio and replied with a fairly neutral, "Um-hmm."
The three Gunmen knew their parts by rote. They bumbled into a highly dangerous situation, played the complete geek symphony, and used their brains to escape the evil tyrant.
At least, that's how it worked on paper.
Frohike took in the fact that the British kid wasn't looking so hot, the babe in his arms was out like a light, and there was no sign of Mulder, Doggett, Mrs. Scully, or the baby. "Hoo boy, this is gonna be an all-nighter," the smallest gunman grumbled to himself. His instinct was to jump to Plan B. Of course, that was going to be difficult, since there wasn't a Plan B.
"Well, well, you must be the great Attila the Hun. Nice to meet you," Frohike quipped, forcing a smile. "Very impressive operation. Looks like you're still a military genius." He stuck out his hand, pulling it back just in time to escape the blade that aimed to sever it from his wrist. "You're right. Skip the pleasantries," the diminutive man muttered under his breath.
Attila stood in front of the grizzled little man and grunted. "You're one of the famous Lone Gunmen? You look more like a refugee from the Yellow Brick Slums."
Other than a twitch at his eyebrow, Frohike didn't react to the insult. He met Attila's dark glare with an indifferent expression.
The killer turned his attention to Byers and Langly, who stood back-to-back. "I give up. Which of you is the Scarecrow and which is the Tin Man?" Jerking his head toward Nigel, he smirked, "I know who's the Cowardly Lion."
Langly ignored their captor's taunts, focusing instead on the injured scholar. "You're Bailey, right? You okay?"
"I've been better," Nigel admitted shakily. "I think I broke some stitches." His voice was faint.
Byers asked pointedly, "Can we please help the kid and the woman?"
Attila laughed. "Oh, you will help them, I assure you. It's unfortunate that our little lion is in such poor shape. He's become nearly superfluous except as a means of controlling Sydney Fox. Of course, if he dies, I have no one to translate my texts, and that would be most unfortunate. I would be very disappointed if I didn't reclaim my sword. So I suggest you make sure he doesn't die. At least, not until after I have what I want."
A very satisfied Attila left the room, and a series of locks clicked from the outside or the door, blocking their only visible exit.
The instant Attila was out of sight, Nigel's resolve failed and all three of the Gunmen dove to catch the little Englishman before both he and Sydney slid to the floor.
Frohike whispered urgently into the microphone hidden in his collar, "Paging Dr. Scully, we've got a big problem here."
"Yeah, I got you. We're on our way." The slim redhead raised eyes to take in their cavernous surroundings. The tin roof looked about a thousand feet overhead, with a web of scaffolding and walkways crisscrossing the space.
Scully swallowed the overwhelming urge to scream. She was saving up her fears and frustration and anger for one unfortunate soul. God help this Attila when she got her hands on him.
At least they now knew where their suspect was, if not all of his hostages. A small army of federal agents surrounded the compound, and she and Reyes and two dozen other agents were working their way through the maze of crates and boxes inside the dilapidated central warehouse. There was no way anyone could get out without being seen. Skinner was among those inside. Somewhere along the way, this had become a personal battle for him, too.
Thunder crackled outside and the already insufficient lighting flickered. Great, thought Scully glumly. Just what we need. As the first large raindrops resounded on the tin of the roof, she discovered that Attila apparently shared a lock fetish with the Lone Gunmen. It took a couple of minutes to get through them all.
When she did, she walked into an empty room.
As it turned out, each and every door had been given similar treatment. And every single room was empty, with one notable exception. In the uppermost room, they found the identical shards of the hidden radio transmitters that the Gunmen had been wearing.
Moans of disappointment rippled through the FBI teams, and most started to walk away, but Scully's voice was sharp. "Stop right there. They're still here. We just haven't found them yet."
Reyes murmured, "We've checked everywhere, Scully. They're not here."
The redhead snapped coldly, "You're wrong, Agent Reyes. They are here, all of them. I can feel them." Scully's large blue eyes scanned the rafters and the walls, taking in the open doors that led to nowhere. "There was nowhere to escape, anyway. There are too many people to move that quickly. We know they're here, and I don't intend to spend another night without my family." Raising her voice, she shouted, "I know you're here, Attila! I know you can hear me! I'm not going to walk away this time. Be afraid, because if anything happens to the people I love, I'll send you straight to hell myself, you bastard!"
Raucous laughter echoed from everywhere. "My, my! Here I was admiring Sydney Fox, when it was the little red hen with the spit and venom! You can't kill me. No weapon on earth can kill me. I know what you're thinking, my dear, and it won't work. I can anticipate your every move, because I can read your mind."