Disclaimer: It's all Chris Carter's and Ten Thirteen Productions.
Reviews:
Moon Goddess: Don't rush to the Phoebe story. I'm probably going to keep her character out of this story from this chapter on anyways, but who knows.
Gothic Spook: I see your review, and in return, I am giving you a chapter!
Samantha: I would make Mulder and Scully have another child, however, I always saw Scully as barren aside from the government's involvement with her pregnancy. I know they could adopt but I'm trying to stay as true as I can to my first story Children of the First, in which both Meredith and William are only children. Who knows though? I could give Mulder and Scully a nice set of twins!
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"I just
feel stronger and sharper
Found a box of sharp objects
what a beautiful thing
Do you want a song of glory?
Well I'm fucking screaming at you…"
~The Used, Box full of Sharp Objects from The Used
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Chapter 8: Personal Piece of the Truth
The building was elegant and completely new. Monica could smell it as she and Scully walked inside, looking around casually through the metallic lobby and the metal detectors nearby for the scientists and doctors in procession to the labs and examination rooms down the hall. The receptionist was a mousy looking woman with a pointed nose and rhinestone glasses, who pretended not to notice him. She seemed so out of place in her colourful clothing instead of the whites, grays and black displayed by the others coming inside.
The two agents moved to the receptionist, the small blonde looking up over the sparkling rims of her glasses with a look in her eye that meant something along the lines of a sassy little, "And what do you want?"
"Yes?" She said in the same sassy tone the two would have expected from someone like that. They removed their badges from their pockets and held them to her, giving her another sassy look on her face, masking the surprise that could be seen in her eyes.
"We're Agents Reyes and Scully of the FBI. We're here looking for information on a murder case." She said confidently. The receptionist chewed on her pen lid.
"Do you have the suspect's name and occupation?" She asked. Scully looked at Reyes who put her badge away.
"We have a phone number for a man with the initials D.R."
"I see, well, there's plenty of DR's checked in today. Hang on a moment please."
She walked into the back room while Scully looked at Reyes and around the room. She was getting uneasy in government funded buildings like these, especially after her own experiences with them that she would rather forget. Reyes swallowed hard.
"You think she's coming back?" Scully asked.
"I think she's going to come back with an excuse." Reyes replied. Scully could only agree. Most government employees were pretty shady about other employees.
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The receptionist was an angular woman of 26 named Rachel Brant. She was the daughter of some civil litigator and an anesthesiologist, just another woman who needed a job and got one at the first available spot. Eventually she was dealing with the head executive directly, a man who she knew only as Doctor Ridder, but everyone else knew as David or strictly Ridder.
She had always been intimidated by him, there were no doubts there. But she was a good little receptionist, always making his dinner reservations and flights personally. In some ways, she could be called trusted, but Ridder was a man who trusted no one.
The back room was empty at this time, still smelling like cigarettes from the other secretaries who worked there. It was there that Rachel started to get scared. What could she do? The FBI could hurt her deeply, but not as much as Ridder could. Should she call up and interrupt his possible board meeting with his other shady executives? Or should she take a message and tell them to call back later? Either way, her decision had to be quick.
There was no doubt in her mind they had come looking for David Ridder. The staff list reported three DR's working in the building, including David Ridder. There was Daniel Router, who was a geneticist in the back laboratories. And there was Darlene Radshaw, a woman with no noted career. She too was as frightening as David, if not more so. She had a nasty habit of carrying around a thin wooden stick that she claimed was for decoration and not for abuse. It bothered Rachel nonetheless.
But she still had to make up her mind. With a pounding heart she dialed Ridder's extension in the phone.
Her mind only became at ease when no one answered. She hung up, smiled and walked back out to greet the agents with her usual snotty attitude.
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Louis had been on a computer for longer than he could remember. Ever since his father had taken up a job at Dell, Louis was typing on a keyboard. His fingers were the fastest any had ever seen, flying over the keys at an amazing speed. He could hack any system in the world, proven by his job. He was what they called a collared tech, someone who was arrested for breaking into the system, and now worked to save their lives. If he got caught breaking protocol in any way, he would be shot on sight.
And Louis was too much of a coward to accept death so soon. If the right reason came up he may have risen to the occasion, but so far, no such reason had arisen.
He was recruited to Ridder's division immediately, privy to the most top secret information in the world and living inside quarters with Kyle within Ridder's huge mansion outside of Washington. They were also aware of the beautiful assassin living there as well; personal hit man for David Ridder and what they assumed was lover as well. That was the only information he wasn't privy to: David Ridder's personal life.
And it was he who was running the task force to reel in the possible lover in David's life. He had hacked the cell phone company and tried to trace 'the breed' that way. It was a way that always worked in test runs of the system, but now it wasn't. He tried looking with cable signals and satellite signals, each time turning up dry. It was unfortunate that 'the breed' didn't send out some kind of signal themselves. It wouldn't have helped anyways. Louis was convinced that they were injured somehow. The offspring in the lab were starting to die away, or so the scientists said. They needed her brought in or they would lose the whole cargo.
He stood in front of the television map and watched the signal flicker and die again, this time at a parking lot. It seemed to come and go every now and then. He called out the troops, timing their arrival down to 12:01:57 if they avoided traffic. If they ran into traffic problems and had to break a few laws, it would add an additional five minutes. If the technicians under his control got into the traffic system soon, they could be looking at a ten minute window to get in and get out.
And then there was the hit woman. And she wouldn't want to come quietly.
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Meredith Doggett wasn't an idiot as some people perceived. She was vigilant, like an actress should be. She was also very perceptive, like an investigator, always questioning even those older than her. So when the red haired woman moved out of the police cruiser, Meredith didn't have to think twice about honking the car horn.
Something about the woman frightened her. It was something so simple that she couldn't put her finger on it. Before the woman could reach the car, Meredith opened the driver's door and ran off into the parking lot and into the fence that lined the property. It was a secret where the wire fence had been broken and hung loosely, barely attached to the pole that was just large enough for a child to crawl through. She could hear the footsteps behind her, and before the red haired woman would reach her, Meredith had crawled through to the other side and was already off and running.
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John's heart was pounding harder than it ever had before. He should have known better than to have left Meredith in the car. He should have known better! He should have thought about strategies the woman might have, if any. He should have considered the fact that this woman was fairly intelligent. Why go for me when my daughter's waiting in the car?
He skipped the elevator and practically jumped down the stairs, taking his gun out of his holster and leaving his finger off the trigger. The second he reached the base he jumped over the rail and moved out the door to the right, heading out into the bright sunlight.
He stopped, looking around the roofs of the SUV's and cars parked in the lot. Somewhere he knew he would find the familiar red hair, like fire burning on a pale scalp, living in his memory forever as something that could threaten everything he had worked for thus far.
Beyond the cars was the red hair covered in sunlight, blowing in the wind. The green eyes lashed at him, a thousand scream of her victims coming forward into Doggett's mind.
His finger drifted over to the trigger. Meredith wasn't anywhere to be seen.
So help me if you've touched her…he thought, his grip tightening on the gun handle. It seemed like she was just going to stand there and give him a chance to shoot. His chest was still sore from the gash, burning under the bandages the paramedics had put on him. He lifted the gun from his side and aimed quickly for her head.
She had a gun aimed at him before he could get a quick shot at her. He was certain of his aim as he fired and immediately dove out of the way. He could hear the bullet whiz by his ear from her weapon, his own skimming by her bleeding ear again, making her shriek.
It was like hearing a demon yell out in agony, the sound of the bullet so sensitive on her inhuman hearing it made the gun drop from her fingers and her grab her head in pain, screaming at full force with all the air in her lungs.
John half expected windows to start cracking as she just crouched down and screamed. He had to hold his own ears, but he could still feel his ear drums ringing from the noise that was let out of her throat. Finally she stopped, still holding her head in pain, hand clutching her wound so hard flesh globs of blood had started to drip, only this time the blood was black and thick and inky, drizzling down to the pavement over her shoulders and dripping off her elbow. Tiny half moon fingernail marks were left on her skin.
He finally regained composure, listening to her falling silent again. She was shaking softly, still crouched over on the ground, listening to whether or not he was going to move or not. John didn't and started approaching her slowly, looking from her to the gun by her feet. His footsteps were crunching the small pieces of stone on the pavement, signaling his presence. Her green eyes opened, listening to him as he came closer to her. She watched his shoe moved towards the gun and kick it away before her hand could reach it.
She was trapped there under the barrel of his weapon, the sound of the metal vibrating in the air making a shrill whistle as it touched her fiery scalp and scraped across her skin. He pushed the gun further from her on the ground, her eyes washed over with fury at the powerlessness of the situation.
Weakness…weakness…weakness…
You horrid little bitch!
The ringing that started in her ears made her grasp her head in agony, clenching her teeth so tightly she thought they were going to crack. It almost made her sick to her stomach as it engulfed every heightened sense that it had gifted her with, causing her eyes to tear and her ears to bleed again, dribbles of red blood flowing from her uninjured ear and black to flow freely from the other.
John wasn't sure what to do, eyeing her in severe, debilitating pain on the pavement, her fingers tightening on her bullet wound while the other balanced her on the pavement, tightening under the finger pads were white with the pressure being applied.
Meredith moved next to him, holding onto his hand. He glanced to her, pressing her against him and moving a hand around in her blonde hair. She looked at the woman on the ground, gasping for breath as the pain shot through her skull.
He couldn't help but feel sorry for someone like that, a haunted woman. She was starting to look like Shannon McMahon more and more.
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Stay Tuned for the NEXT CHAPTER! But in the mean time, please review!