Chapter 5:
Preso

They were gone. Oh God, *she* was gone. He had lost her. The kid, too. He had let her down; he had let himself down.

No, no!

How had he let it happen? He should've seen it, he should've known! But no, he had been off enjoying himself, off being a fool! And all the while the killer had taken her. Right under his nose! What a fool he'd been! What a damned fool!

He had lost her before, and it had hurt him. God it had hurt him. If any thing happened to her. he didn't know what he would do to himself.

Mulder sat in his room, holding his head in his hands. Agents went through the room around him. SAC Parks stormed up to Mulder.

"You damn fool!"

Mulder looked up.

"This is all your fault!"

In a cold rage Mulder got up and struck Parks. He fell onto his back. The other agents froze.

"I'll have your badge for this!" Parks sputtered out, as Mulder left the room, "I'll have your badge!"

Mulder didn't care. He had to find them. *Her*. He knew Parks was correct, that it *was* all his fault, but that bastard didn't care about finding anybody. Parks was only looking to add a star to his name. Mulder just needed to find her. He needed to know it would all be all right.

Oh God, she was gone.

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Jack blinked in owlish incomprehension.

Who the hell was he? Where the hell was he? What the hell was going on? The room was dimly lit, and it seemed rather bare of any furniture. A large down bed was along the far wall. There was somebody in it. Jack peered through the darkness. Red jumped out at him.

Scully.

It all came rushing back into Jack's mind. A flurry of images rushed back at Jack. Some bad, some good. Jack thought of Scully. Some very good. But then he remembered how he had been turned down. Damn! He should've seen it coming. He should have remembered 'Never Again' and 'Milagro'. *No one loves Scully and gets away with it*. Well almost no one. But now Jack would still try to save her. Just where the hell was he?

Jack tried to stand up. He realized his hands were cuffed behind his back. Still woozy from the blow to his head, Jack tried to find his footing. He failed, and fell back against the slate wall behind him. It was numbingly cold. Jack felt a chain running along the handcuffs. So he was chained to the wall. Maybe if he-

He heard a moan. Scully.

"Scully?"

Another moan. What the hell had the killer done to her? Jack felt his blood rising to a boil. If she was hurt. Jack strained against the chain. He strained until he felt the handcuffs cutting into his skin. A rivulet of blood dripped down his hand to the floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of the blood echoed through the room. Jack stopped his straining. His chest heaved from the struggle.

The door in the wall to Jack's right swung open. Jack peered into the light that streamed into the room. It hurt his eyes and he turned away. The Man stepped out from within the heavenly bright light and into the darkness. He carried some packages under his arm. The Man closed the door.

"Evening."

Jack stared coldly at the killer. The Man stared almost jovially back.

The Man shook his head, "Oh come, come. Do I really look like that much of a monster?"

"No, just an everyday nobody," Jack replied.

"Ha! How many nobodies have the FBI after them?"

"Any idiot can take a life," Jack replied coldly.

"Ah, but can they sketch like I do?" the Man laughingly replied. *This kid putting up some tough front*. It really amused the Man. And how could he be in a bad mood? After all, soon he would have some answers.

The Man opened a package. He took out a hypodermic needle.

Jack coldly watched the killer, "What did you do to Scully?"

The Man heard the tone of the kid's voice. And he had used the redhead's name. *There was some backstory there*. The kid and the agent. the Man shook his head, it just got better and better. If there were something there, something between the two, then the Man would certainly learn the Truth.

"Everyone dies, kid. Everyone. Even the best of men. Maybe especially the best of men."

The Man chuckled at a thought.

"And women."

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Mulder had been pouring through all the notes at the field office. His was weary for lack of sleep. But that didn't matter. Finding them only mattered.

"Agent Mulder?"

Mulder looked up from the desk and saw another agent.

"Phone call for you."

Mulder picked up the phone.

"Agent Mulder, this is Agent Holly Rice, back at Stannard's house in Connecticut."

"Yes."

"We traced a print from the Jack Daniels to a Jimmy Frist, 21, who lives in the Hudson Valley."

21- that seemed too young. It wouldn't be him.

"SAC Parks has been notified and is on his way up there with a team. But we just discovered something else. A body under a car in the driveway across the street, with one gunshot wound to the face."

Across the street. the killer had been watching them as they left. *How could I have been so wrong*? Then something triggered in Mulder's memory, something he had seen in the when he had arrived at the hotel with Jack and Scully. It had been right behind them. He had seen it parked again when he had left the hotel after hitting Parks. A Jaguar.

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Jack woke in Scully's arms. Her eyes were lightly closed, the lids slightly fluttering. She was wearing only a black lace bra and panties. In sleep she was an angel, her soft pale skin glowed a heavenly white. Jack looked down her body. She looked so. -no-no-no! This was all wrong! Jack tried to turn over, but his body replied incredibly slowly. He realized he was only in his boxers. The killer must've drugged him- but he couldn't remember clearly.

Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw him. He was seated on a stool, with a sketchbook in his hand. An easel with Mazzola's sketch on it stood next to him. The Man didn't notice Jack had woken up. He was too busy in his mind piecing together the beauty before him, and studying how Mazzola's work matched their erotic embrace so perfectly. But in the back of his mind the Man somehow knew that that he would never have the Truth. He would have to go on killing forever.

In Jack's head it all happened like he was in a dark room with a bright strobe light.

Jack heard the door burst open. He saw a tall figure's silhouette in the bright light. Then he saw Mulder step forward with a gun ready.

"FBI! Hands up! Now!"

Jack saw a brief look of surprise on the killer's face. Mulder only saw the Man's back. Then the look of surprise passed, and the Man's face was blank.

"Please don't shoot," the Man said meekly as he rose, "I'll go quietly."

Jack saw the man's hand disappear into his jacket, only to reappear with a revolver. The Man glanced over his shoulder at the tall cop. *He has no idea what's coming*. Then the Man coolly put the gun to his shoulder and fired into it.

Jack had watched it all mutely. He tried to say something, anything, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. He witnessed the bullet pass through the Man's shoulder and strike Mulder in the collarbone. Mulder's gun discharged into the ceiling and he fell back into the doorway. His body seemed cut in half, as half lay in the blinding light, half in the room's darkness. Jack heard him coughing hard.

The Man stumbled forward a bit, and then fell next to the bed. He clutched the hole in his shoulder with his right hand, and held the gun in his left. His breath came in sharp, short intakes. Jack saw a wild instinct in his eyes. He saw the Man try to raise his gun again. Jack had to do something. He tried to move, but the drugs still had him woozy. But he had to move. He had to do something.

Jack strived to move with all in him. Slowly he neared the bed's edge. The Man's back was to him. Jack saw a few of the hypodermic needles sitting on the smooth cement floor. He stretched and managed to reach one. He felt incredibly tired, but he picked a needle up.

"Bad men die too."

The Man turned to face the voice, and Jack swung the needle into his left eye, and injected the drugs inside. A primal cry escaped the Man's lips, the revolver fired into the floor, and the Man fell writhing to the floor. He convulsed wildly on the floor, his head banging it repeatedly. His body arced into the air. Then all the motion stopped. His body lay still on the floor. There would never be any answers for the Man. Not ever.

Jack heard Mulder still coughing. It was a horrible noise. But he felt so very tired now. He rolled over to Scully's warm embrace. He saw her eyelids flutter open.

"Jack?" she softly whispered.

Jack smiled. This had to be heaven. Then all was dark.

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I hoped you enjoyed this story. I figure on maybe adding an epilogue, if anybody wants one. Sorry its taken me so long to add this chapter, but I was on a bit of a vacation. BTW the title of this chapter is Italian for "Taken". And the "owlish incomprehension" line I stole from Huxley's 'Brave New World'. Anyhoo, thanx for reading this little story,

Sincerely yours, Me (the writer)