Title: Means to an End
Author: Lisa
Email: lc7685@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, the characters, or anything like that :)
Rating:
Summary: Set somewhere in Season Nine, b4 the final.
Category: DRF/DRUST/DRR...just-all-DR :P Drama, Angst
Monday 9.47pm
Monica raised her hands as a sign of surrender. With her right hand she gestured, pointing, to the three people to the side of her.
"Let them go," she stated calmly. A gun was waved in front of her face.
"No way chica." She moved to take a step forward and felt the gun hit her forehead. Her hands moved to her sides and her right hand started fiddling. Two fingers together, fourth finger touched, three down, two fingers together... "No way!" the man screamed again. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Now... Step back."
"What if I don't?" Monica asked, trying to draw him out, trying to separate her emotions from her calculations.
"Then I'm going to shoot you. Step back - Now!" Monica took a small step back and held her breath to repress the sigh, the relief she felt once the metal barrel left her skin. He took three steps back and moved the gun right to left. Monica got the message, stepping towards the three officials, who'd remained relatively silent throughout the ordeal. "Are you getting hot?" the man in control asked. "Eh?"
"Maybe we are. But if we are, then you are as well," Monica replied, hearing her voice shake on the last few words. She cursed herself, finding calm again as quickly as possible.
"FBI," he began again. Monica looked shocked. How did he know? The three officials were just as surprised as she was. She took a small step forward. "You've given me your gun, now... Take off your jacket." Monica did so, removing her tan jacket. "Keep going."
"Excuse me?" Monica asked. The gun was waved in her face again.
"The bullet proof one under your shirt!" he exclaimed. "Take it off!"
"I'm not wearing a vest," she lied. Monica checked her rage as the man stepped forward again, holding the gun at the centre of her chest.
"Want me to see?" She didn't reply but her eyes told him 'no'. He stepped back. "Then take it off." Monica hesitated, but obliged. She removed her shirt, then the vest, before putting her shirt and jacket back on. She held the vest in her hands, before stretching them out for the man to take it from her. She did it all in silence, and everyone watched very carefully.
"Take it," she managed after the man made no move. He shook his head.
"Throw it out the window," he stated instead. Monica looked over to where the blinds were shut. "Yes that window!" he answered her silent question. "Throw it out - now!"
"Okay," Monica replied, walking to the window. The man backed further away from the window, so that they couldn't get a clear shot. He knew they were out there. Monica slid open the window after raising the blinds until the man had instructed her that 'that was far open enough'. A spotlight hit her in the face.
*
"We got movement."
"You got picture?" The radio crackled.
"We have a woman at the window. Tall, slim, brunette. Feeding image now."
From the window in the opposite high rise to the laptops in the vans parked on the ground, a file was sent.
"Can you ID the woman?"
Skinner and Follmer looked at each other. Skinner picked up the radio once he realised Follmer wasn't.
"Positive ID. The woman is Special Agent Monica Reyes. She's one of ours. Do not, I repeat, do not jeopardise her safety for a clean shot."
"Understood. Maintaining positions."
Skinner, Follmer, and the surveillance team in the building across the street watched as Monica opened the window, holding something in her right hand.
"Zoom in Peters," Follmer directed. "What's the object?" As soon as he spoke the words Monica dropped whatever it was she'd been holding.
"Heads up!" Somebody shouted from outside as people, unaware of what it was, moved away as quickly as they could. Skinner remained focussed on what was happening at the window. Monica gestured something with a managed smile on her face, before shutting the window, then the blinds.
"What..." Skinner whispered to himself, thinking. Follmer had gone to retrieve the object, and hurried back with it in a large plastic evidence bag.
"It's her bullet proof," he managed. Skinner nodded, saving the file and replaying it, pausing at the gesture.
"Do you know sign language?" he asked.
"A, A little, not much," Follmer confessed.
"I need a second opinion. Get somebody here-" In five minutes a police officer was ushered into the van. "Can you sign?"
"Yes sir," the uniform replied. Skinner showed the young man the replay.
"Is that a sign? I know what I think it looks like, but I want to be sure."
"Yes sir. She's only using one hand so it's hard to tell. It looks like she's improvised, but it looks like she's signing the alphabet for 'bomb'..." The officer looked up at Skinner. "There's a bomb?" Skinner sighed.
"I'm not happy with this," Follmer stated. "This can't be right."
"Why not? Listen I want a third and final opinion." Skinner turned to the officer. "Thanks for your help. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone until we alert everyone of our conclusions, or I'll have your job. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Get Scully," Skinner stated, and Follmer left once again.
"What's going on? Where's Agent Doggett?" Scully asked as soon as she reached Skinner. Skinner didn't reply, showing her the laptop with the file. He replayed it.
"What is she saying?" he asked simply. Scully sat down, watching Monica's hand as she did it again, and again.
"Sir if you're asking me to evaluate Monica's ability to sign with one hand at that speed, it's pretty bad, but if not... I would evacuate the rest of this block, because I think she just said 'bomb'."
*
Monday 9.47pm
Monica raised her hands as a sign of surrender. With her right hand she gestured, pointing, to the three people to the side of her.
"Let them go," she stated calmly. A gun was waved in front of her face.
"No way chica." She moved to take a step forward and felt the gun hit her forehead. Her hands moved to her sides and her right hand started fiddling. Two fingers together, fourth finger touched, three down, two fingers together... "No way!" the man screamed again. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Now... Step back."
"What if I don't?" Monica asked, trying to draw him out, trying to separate her emotions from her calculations.
"Then I'm going to shoot you. Step back - Now!" Monica took a small step back and held her breath to repress the sigh, the relief she felt once the metal barrel left her skin. He took three steps back and moved the gun right to left. Monica got the message, stepping towards the three officials, who'd remained relatively silent throughout the ordeal. "Are you getting hot?" the man in control asked. "Eh?"
"Maybe we are. But if we are, then you are as well," Monica replied, hearing her voice shake on the last few words. She cursed herself, finding calm again as quickly as possible.
"FBI," he began again. Monica looked shocked. How did he know? The three officials were just as surprised as she was. She took a small step forward. "You've given me your gun, now... Take off your jacket." Monica did so, removing her tan jacket. "Keep going."
"Excuse me?" Monica asked. The gun was waved in her face again.
"The bullet proof one under your shirt!" he exclaimed. "Take it off!"
"I'm not wearing a vest," she lied. Monica checked her rage as the man stepped forward again, holding the gun at the centre of her chest.
"Want me to see?" She didn't reply but her eyes told him 'no'. He stepped back. "Then take it off." Monica hesitated, but obliged. She removed her shirt, then the vest, before putting her shirt and jacket back on. She held the vest in her hands, before stretching them out for the man to take it from her. She did it all in silence, and everyone watched very carefully.
"Take it," she managed after the man made no move. He shook his head.
"Throw it out the window," he stated instead. Monica looked over to where the blinds were shut. "Yes that window!" he answered her silent question. "Throw it out - now!"
"Okay," Monica replied, walking to the window. The man backed further away from the window, so that they couldn't get a clear shot. He knew they were out there. Monica slid open the window after raising the blinds until the man had instructed her that 'that was far open enough'. A spotlight hit her in the face.
*
"We got movement."
"You got picture?" The radio crackled.
"We have a woman at the window. Tall, slim, brunette. Feeding image now."
From the window in the opposite high rise to the laptops in the vans parked on the ground, a file was sent.
"Can you ID the woman?"
Skinner and Follmer looked at each other. Skinner picked up the radio once he realised Follmer wasn't.
"Positive ID. The woman is Special Agent Monica Reyes. She's one of ours. Do not, I repeat, do not jeopardise her safety for a clean shot."
"Understood. Maintaining positions."
Skinner, Follmer, and the surveillance team in the building across the street watched as Monica opened the window, holding something in her right hand.
"Zoom in Peters," Follmer directed. "What's the object?" As soon as he spoke the words Monica dropped whatever it was she'd been holding.
"Heads up!" Somebody shouted from outside as people, unaware of what it was, moved away as quickly as they could. Skinner remained focussed on what was happening at the window. Monica gestured something with a managed smile on her face, before shutting the window, then the blinds.
"What..." Skinner whispered to himself, thinking. Follmer had gone to retrieve the object, and hurried back with it in a large plastic evidence bag.
"It's her bullet proof," he managed. Skinner nodded, saving the file and replaying it, pausing at the gesture.
"Do you know sign language?" he asked.
"A, A little, not much," Follmer confessed.
"I need a second opinion. Get somebody here-" In five minutes a police officer was ushered into the van. "Can you sign?"
"Yes sir," the uniform replied. Skinner showed the young man the replay.
"Is that a sign? I know what I think it looks like, but I want to be sure."
"Yes sir. She's only using one hand so it's hard to tell. It looks like she's improvised, but it looks like she's signing the alphabet for 'bomb'..." The officer looked up at Skinner. "There's a bomb?" Skinner sighed.
"I'm not happy with this," Follmer stated. "This can't be right."
"Why not? Listen I want a third and final opinion." Skinner turned to the officer. "Thanks for your help. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone until we alert everyone of our conclusions, or I'll have your job. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Get Scully," Skinner stated, and Follmer left once again.
"What's going on? Where's Agent Doggett?" Scully asked as soon as she reached Skinner. Skinner didn't reply, showing her the laptop with the file. He replayed it.
"What is she saying?" he asked simply. Scully sat down, watching Monica's hand as she did it again, and again.
"Sir if you're asking me to evaluate Monica's ability to sign with one hand at that speed, it's pretty bad, but if not... I would evacuate the rest of this block, because I think she just said 'bomb'."
*