Notes: Yeah, I had a sudden lack of writing inspiration. =P Sorry it took so long to get up, but hopefully it was worth the wait.
---------------------Chapter Seven - -----------------------------
NOVEMBER 12, 2003
22:34
SCULLY RESIDENCE
Mulder hesitated for a moment before ringing the doorbell, unsure how to phrase the news. He could have called ahead, but he'd wanted to inform her mother in person – it was the least he could do. Besides, she might be able to help him figure out where Scully had been taken.
Mrs. Scully answered the door and gave a slight start. Well, considering he hadn't bothered to shave and had only bathed once in the past two and a half days, he was bound to look…interesting.
"Fox, what are you doing here? And at 10:30…Is Dana all right?"
Something on his expression must have clued her in to the reasons for his visit because a few seconds later she mumbled something that sounded like "Oh God…" which was abruptly followed by "Come in, come in."
She shut the door after him and he walked to the living room where he decided to forgo sitting, though Mrs. Scully sank to the couch.
"What happened to Dana?" She spoke, eyes wide with fear, fingers nervously fluttering in her lap like a broken-winged bird.
"I – We were investigating a lead…I'd asked her to come to England, to find something, but then somebody called…and we went to the arctic, and something attacked us, and while I was incapacitated she was…taken."
"By whom?"
He was silent for a moment, eyes haunted, seeing the footprints, only the footprints, when pair going, one pair stopped, dead, ended.
The phone gave a shrill ring and both the adults started. It rang twice before Mrs. Scully got up to answer it, coming back in the room a minute later, a look of confusion on her face.
"It's…for you."
Mulder, equally puzzled, took the phone, speaking into it.
"Hello?"
A familiar voice came on at the other end of the line, one that was always questioning.
"I have information about your partner."
"What are you talking about? Who are you?"
"It's not important who I am. Now if you want to find your partner, listen to me." He paused, as if expecting Mulder to interrupt. When he didn't, the man continued. "Mrs. Scully received a package in the mail today containing a computer disk. Get it, and load it. You'll find your answers there."
Before Mulder could formulate a response, the line went dead. He handed the phone back to Mrs. Scully, speaking slowly. "Did you receive a package in the mail today containing a computer disk?"
She frowned and nodded, going off into another room and returning with an unlabeled compact disc in a clear, nondescript case.
"I tried to load it but it asked me for a password. How did you know I had it?"
"Could I borrow it, please?"
She handed him the disc and he thanked her, making his way to the door.
"Wait, Fox, why don't you stay here a while? Get some rest, at least, you look like you haven't slept in days."
He gave her a wry smile before opening the door.
"I haven't!"
Stopping at a local internet café – deserted at this time of night except for the nerds unfortunate enough to have been busted and now took every precaution available – Mulder popped in the disc, hoping that it wouldn't crash the machine. After several seconds of intense whirring, an alert box popped up, asking for a password. Thirty minutes and several hundred passwords later, the box was replaced by a file folder, which opened, revealing a long, scrolling page of binary which took the better part of ten minutes to fully load. Suppressing the urge to smack the computer, he studied the program it was running in, and after twenty minutes of not-too-careful fiddling managed to translate the binary. What was revealed was a picture, in full color, unlike most spy shots.
Mulder's eyes widened as the image loaded, his brain taking in the surroundings in the picture, and oddly enough he recognized it. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he printed the photograph and ejected the disc, slipping both into his pocket before leaving.
Scully suppressed a groan, eyes closed while she tried to take in her surroundings by feel. She was lying on her side on what felt like wood, and from the chaffing of her wrists as well as her inability to move either it didn't take much thought to figure out she was bound. It took her several attempts to sit up, her head spinning, and she slowly opened her eyes to a dizzying blur of grey. She waited several seconds until they adjusted to the dim light and whatever she had been drugged with wore off.
She guessed the room was once used for storage, seeing as how the ceiling was rounded high with great windows – now covered by plywood – on the far end. No boxes occupied the room, in fact, nothing did, just her in her little corner. She was unsurprised to find her weapon gone, and out of recent habit she pulled up the bottom of her pants, and stifled a gasp of surprise.
As of late she had taken to Mulder's habit of keeping a gun in an ankle holster, and she now found herself not as weaponless as she had initially suspected.
This seems too easy…These people don't make mistakes.
Well, maybe they do.
Or maybe they intend for me to escape…
But why?
To lead them to Mulder?
They could have taken him just as easily as they took me. Besides, I have no idea where he is.
What if they took the wrong person?
What are the odds? How could someone mistake me for a six foot, brown-haired male ex-FBI agent?
Well, regardless of how she had gotten here, or why she was here, she was still here all the same. And she had no intention of staying that way for long.
Mr. McCain came out from the back room, popping his head in to see if anyone had left. Not many people were here this time of night, just the regulars. And that one guy who'd just come in, he thought he's heard him leave a few minutes ago but had been tied up in a…conversation…with a dissatisfied customer from a few weeks ago.
He glanced around the room, noting familiar facing, and sadly enough, familiar clothing. Bill, Jimmy, Harry, Joe…his eyes slid across the recently vacated seat. But where was the new guy? He'd only paid for half and hour upfront, and he'd been there at least an hour, plus he'd used the printer – that was another five bucks, considering how low the ink cartridge was. Mr. McCain glanced across the room to his desk and at the counter where the computer was, spat a curse, and stormed back into his office.
"Flucking cheap asshole…"
Scully threw herself against the door for the tenth time, this time earning the satisfying crack of splintering wood. Her small form wasn't made for this type of activity, but with enough persistence…
She slammed her full weight against the door again, hissing at the pain in her shoulder, then rammed it with her other one. She'd be out of here soon enough…
"Um, sir…if I may ask a question?" Hiding his apprehension as best he could, the man fiddled with the buttons of his camera, opening and snapping shut the battery door, taking pictures of his lens cap, focusing and unfocusing…
The man took a deep puff of his cigarette before putting it out in his crystalline ashtray, no doubt imported from some foreign country. He hadn't even used half of the cigarette – was that a good sign or a bad one?
"If you wish, but bear in mind that insolence can cause most unpleasant consequences."
Swallowing under the intense glare, the man shifted his feet, breaking eye contact. Staring too long could be taken as a sign of rebellion, and he didn't need that right now.
"Why…why are we allowing the prisoner to escape? After all we went through to get her…"
"Do you think I would simply let her go? No…she has served her purpose. Besides, she may be valuable in locating Mulder."
"Sir, did you perform the tests? I thought that - "
"What you think is best left unsaid, if you would like to enjoy your current position for much longer."
Swallowing again, the photographer spoke, knowing it would be in his best interest to leave immediately.
"Yes, sir."
Meh. I know it's not very long, or well written, but hope you enjoyed. Please review!!