"Saint-seducing gold." William Shakespeare

Chapter 2:

Gilded

FBI Headquarters. A few days later.

When Dana Scully came into the basement office, she found Fox Mulder was already there. The room was dimly lit. The room was *always* dimly lit. She shook her head. *Does this man ever sleep?* He stood by the room's single desk, thoughtfully engrossed in a folder on the desktop.

Mulder hadn't noticed her right away. But eventually he turned to her and smiled. For so early in the morning, he had an awfully cheerful attitude.

"Morning Scully. Take a look at this."

Mulder held a slide projector switch in his hand, and pressed the button. The projector's light caught dust in the air, creating a magic sparkling ray across the room. An image of a man sitting in a chair was quickly up on the screen across the room. The man was in his early 50's, slightly balding, but with a pretty muscular build. His body was a deep leather tan, the kind of tan you get from a life of hard work outdoors. The man's shirt was closed.

"Don Sampson, 52, of Vero Beach Florida."

"I know him Mulder," Scully pointed out, "Wasn't he in the newspapers for finding some shipwreck in the Keys?"

"Aye, aye, matey" Mulder replied in a pirate voice, until he looked over and saw Scully hadn't laughed.

He continued more seriously, "Yeah, it was the Santa Laguna off Key West. But he was working on some other wrecks a lot further north along the coast when the local Sheriff found him like this." Then he continued in an announcer's voice, "But wait, there's more!"

The new picture on the screen was exactly similar to its predecessor, except for the fact that the man's shirt had been opened up wide. The top right part of his chest shined with the brilliant luster of that most precious of metals: gold.

Scully arched her eyebrows. She still hadn't gotten completely used to some of the things she saw here.

"What do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked, studying her reaction; he liked presenting Scully with outlandish ideas and images, just to see how she would react.

"Well, it looks like this man was painted with some gold substance-"

Mulder started humming 'Goldfinger'.

"Actually, that *is* gold," said Mulder.

Mulder flashed through more pictures, each a different view of the body and room.

"It would seem Mr. Sampson was found in a motel room with his hands tied. He appeared to have died of strangulation. He had no belongings other than his wallet and "

The screen flashed a close up of the crimson ring around Sampson's neck.

"Mulder, this has all the indications of some sort of organized crime killing, not really an X-File-"

"Except for his 'heart of gold'" Mulder couldn't resist chiming in.

Scully cracked a smile and shook her head, "Come on Mulder, how could his chest be solid gold? There must be another explanation; he could've had some sort of surgery."

"Well that's for us to figure out now, isn't it?" Mulder said, pulling out two plane tickets, "How about we lose this rainy Washington weather for a little fun in sunny Florida?"

*So that's why he's in such a good mood*.

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Vero Beach, Florida. Later that day.

It was hot as Hell. Mulder wearily wiped his forehead. He was sweating buckets. He hadn't imagined it would be *this* hot, even with his sleeves rolled up. He would've packed short-sleeve shirts. Scully had been prepared, and she wore a simple white tee-shirt under her dark blouse. The tee shirt accentuated her nice curves. Mulder couldn't help stealing a glance.

Neither could Sheriff Blake.

"Afternoon folks," Blake said in his laid-back voice, a smile crossing his face for the redhead, "you all got some identification for being here? This is a crime scene."

They stood in the burning asphalt sea outside the motel.

Scully flashed her badge.

"This is Agent Mulder and I'm Agent Scully. We're with the FBI. I believe your office contacted us?" she said.

"Awful sorry 'bout that ma'am," Blake said, still smiling, "but we've had quite a few newspapers come snooping around because of this case's nature."

"The gold?" Mulder inquired.

Blake shook his head, "Well, you folks better come up and take a look yourselves."

Blake led them to Room 19. They felt half dead from the heat by the time they got there.

"Is it always this hot?" asked Mulder.

"Nope. You all arrived smack in the middle of a record burn."

"'Fun in sunny Florida', Mulder?" Scully whispered, but they already arrived at the room.

Blake held open the door for Scully.

"After you, ma'am."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Scully said, flashing a smile.

Blake let go of the door and Mulder just managed to slip into the room without getting hit by it. He frowned.

"Oh, please call me Blake, everyone else does."

"Sheriff, we found something on the box," Deputy Sims called over.

Blake smiled and shook his head, "Now don't go proving me a liar, Jeff."

Jeff hadn't heard him, but Mulder and Scully had, and they exchanged an amused glance (maybe Mulder more amused than Scully).

They all walked over to the small box on the bed. Jeff handed the box to Blake.

"If you look real closely at the inside left side, you'll see some black scrapings," Jeff pointed out.

Blake examined the box closely, "Looks a bit like it was burnt."

Though Mulder's hand was out, Blake handed the box to Scully.

"Ma'am," he said, smiling.

"Thank you, Blake," Scully said, taking the box.

When Blake turned his back, Mulder made a face to Scully, who arched her eyebrows in return.

"I think we can have this substance analyzed," said Scully.

Mulder leaned over her to get a look at the box, "It seems like some sort of mineral or rock. Are there any other forensic leads?"

"You mean other than that," Blake said, pointing to Sampson's body.

"Other than that," Mulder replied, a little annoyed.

"Well I don't think so. I was just going to go down to the marina and ask some of Sampson's coworkers if they knew anything. You can join me if you'd like."

"Sure," Mulder said, then aside to Scully, "I'm sure you'll want to take a look at the body."

"Yes Mulder, I will do the autopsy. It'll be good to get out of the heat."

"Great. *Blake* and I will go right on to the marina."

Before he left with Blake, Mulder stopped to examine the body. All he did was tap the gold part of the man's chest with a pen. It made a sharp clinking noise. Mulder smiled, and then walked out after Blake.

Scully walked over to the body. She looked at the body's gold chest. Scully's image stared back at her in the reflection.

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Elsewhere in Vero Beach.

The street was filled with tourists and tourist shops alike. There were so many tourists you couldn't even tell who was a local, because there were none to be found. There were some people actually here on business, though.

The South African was used to the heat. The part of the Kalahari Desert where he was born was much hotter in the summer. Much hotter. That simply made the hunting more interesting. Ah, but he was not here to reminisce about the joys of his simple youth; no there was a job that had to be done, and done well.

The South African continued walking down the street. He'd been following his prey for several days now, but his prey hadn't made a real move until the visit to the motel. When the South African had seen the body, he knew right away what had transpired. After seeing the body's chest, the South African was surprised (at least to the extent you could get surprised in his business). The rock appeared more powerful than his Government's report had led him to believe. No wonder *everybody* wanted it so bad.

His prey stopped and looked in a window, casually glancing around. The South African had followed enough people to know that meant he would have to move quickly. The store his prey stopped in front of was just next to an alley. The South African casually continued walking towards his prey. The man turned and looked right at the South African as he walked by.

Predator watches prey watches predator watches prey.

The South African quickly grabbed his prey by the collar and swung him into the alley. The South African pulled out his silenced piece and pressed it to the man's temple.

"Where's the rock?"

His prey looked surprised, but his eyes showed no sign of fear. *I'm certainly dealing with another professional,* thought the South African.

"I won't ask a third time. Where is it?"

The bullet slammed into the South African's head with the speed of, well, a bullet. The South African fell into the arms of his former prey, a small hole trickling blood from just before his ear. The former prey quickly stepped back and ran down the alley. He heard the plinking noise of several bullets striking the ground around his pounding feet. He would've pulled out his gun, but he didn't have the time. The former prey jumped a small fence at the alley's end, but when he came down on the other side he stumbled, as he had been shot in the ass. He quickly (and painfully) staggered away.

The Australian dropped the newspaper that had hidden his silenced gun. He stopped over the dead South African. The Australian dropped the Morley he had been smoking. Small embers jumped off the ground. *So the South Africans were here too. Well, that meant that there would be others,* the Australian contemplated, *A lot of people want that rock bad*.

The Australian parted with a wink and the words, "Sorry, mate. That's how the business goes."

The body offered no reply.

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This probably seems confusing now, but it'll make more sense as I add on chapters. I'll tell you that I've got a pretty good idea where I want this to go, but how I get there I still have to figure out. My ego is a terrible monster, so please write a review (any review), to appease its hunger. Sincerely,

- Me (who needs to stop writing and get some sleep right now)