Part 21.
Late that same night John was in his bedroom, throwing things into a duffel bag. He had a red eye flight leaving Washington DC at 1:18 am. Only two hours from now.
Keeping an eye on the clock, John finished packing and walked to the front of the house, making sure the house was locked up tight.
Just as he was walking out the front door, Mulder ran up the walkway with a manila envelope in his hand.
"Mulder? I thought we were meeting at Scully's place."
"Yeah, about that. Look, I don't want Scully involved any more than she is. It hasn't been very long since our discovery in New Mexico and she's so exhausted."
Mulder glanced away for a second to recollect his thoughts.
Still staring up at the starry night, Mulder continued, "I just worry about her. She says she's okay, but she's lying. She's frightened at how easily we were accepted back into the FBI, into the X-Files."
Mulder paused for a moment and then looked back John. "But Monica comes first. We'll worry about our future when the four of us are able to kick back with a couple of beers and complain how meaningless our lives have become."
John laughed and they shook hands.
Handing John the envelope, Mulder began to walk with John toward the driveway where a taxi was waiting for John.
"Everything you need is in that envelope. And don't even ask where I got it. You don't want to know."
John laughed, "No, probably not. I appreciate this, I really do."
"Hey we're partners. Still haven't decided if I like you yet, but regardless, we're partners."
They grinned at each other and before John could climb into the taxi, Mulder said, "We got Skinman covered. And Gibson's staying with us for awhile. Give us a ring when you land so we can touch base. And don't you dare tell Scully what I said about her!"
John waved at him in response and shook his head in amusement as his taxi pulled away.
At the airport John showed his doctored identification and made it onto the plane just in time. The plane wasn't very full and John knew he should probably try and catch some sleep because he'd probably have little time for it once he landed.
But he couldn't. He kept seeing Monica's face when he closed his eyes. And she looked scared. Hurt.
Okay, he had to get a grip. This wasn't going to help any. He would just have to find her as fast as he could once he landed, to see for himself that she was safe and okay.
He pulled out the manila envelope where, besides the fake ID, was research and photos on Knowle Rohrer and other possible Red Guns. Of course, the Red Guns could all be new faces but if Knowle Rohrer was able to resurface as a different alien race, then couldn't the other super soldiers as well?
He studied the information until his brain finally shut down and he fell fast asleep. The next thing he knew the plane was descending and the other few passengers onboard were buckling up. John quickly stuffed all of his things into the duffel and fastened his seatbelt as well.
Once through the gate, John flagged down a taxi and told the driver to take him to the Best Western motel that was situated between the FBI building and the coast.
Once there, John checked in and went to his room. Ignoring the view, he threw his duffel on the bed and picked up the phone.
On the third ring, Scully answered.
"Scully."
"Scully? It's John."
"John? Oh thank God. Something's happened. We're not sure what it is though. Skinner just came into the office and said AD Stevens contacted him. He can't get in touch with Monica. No one can. She was out on an assignment but no one knows for sure where she went and her partner is going crazy trying to locate her."
John's hand tightened on the receiver as a million of frightening possibilities raced through his mind.
"John?"
"Ye-Yeah I'm here. Dammit. And I can't very well just march into the building and join the search. I'd get stopped before I could step one foot inside the building."
"Yes, I know. And Skinner could have you fired for disobeying orders…" Scully's voice trailed off.
"So what's your first step?"
"I think I'm going to stake out her apartment, see if I can see any signs of her. Then maybe talk to some neighbors, see if they can give me anything to go off of. If she's really missing, it won't be long before the FBI is swarming the place with an investigation. I better get anything I can right now."
"Sounds good. Mulder and I have already gathered quite a bit of evidence for our case in Virginia. We're going to head up and let it be known around the building that you're already there. Keep in touch John. I mean it."
"You got it. And thanks."
Scully smiled and clicked off her cell.
Part 22.
So much pain. She could hardly move. And it was cold. So cold. Her head hurt the worse and it felt like someone was taking a hammer to it.
"Ugh." It took all of her strength to push herself up into a sitting position. Groggily she looked around her, but didn't recognize anything. It looked like some kind of basement. But Californians didn't have basements, did they? Hearing a noise to her right, Monica instinctively reached down for her gun. It was gone. She groaned inwardly and struggled to stand up.
Once she was standing, she swayed a bit. How long had she been out?
And where the hell was she?
The room was dark but there was a window on the opposite wall. The moon gave her some light as she made her way toward it.
"Shit," she whispered. She was never going to fit through that window. It was barely big enough for a child to squeeze through.
But it was the only way out as far as she could tell. Monica began to stack some boxes up against the window so she could reach it. Her investigative instinct taking over, Monica paused to quickly look through the boxes that she had moved. Books on the Civil War? She wanted to look more into it, but her body was about to collapse from exhaustion and her vision was beginning to waver again. She had to get out now.
Gritting her teeth, Monica hauled herself up the boxes until she was face to face with the window. Unlatching it, she slowly pushed it out so not to make any noise. Listening for a second, she only heard frogs croaking and owls hooting in the night sky. Animals, but no people. Or aliens, she thought with an exasperated chuckle.
Inch by inch Monica yanked herself through the tiny slit and knew her body would never forgive her. Grimacing with excruciating pain, Monica pulled her legs out and the window slammed shut.
She rested on the wet grass for a moment before crawling towards the nearest tree. She didn't know who was around and the tree seemed like a good hiding spot. God, she was delirious if she actually thought the tree would shield her.
When she reached the tree, she slumped down and sat against it. For the first time she could feel the blood on her face. Gently, she put her hand where the core of the pain was on the back of her head. Wincing, she drew it away and stared at her hand covered in blood.
"Great. Just great."
Okay, she needed to come up with a plan to get out of here, wherever the hell 'here' was.
Slowly hauling herself to her feet, she glanced around. Woods. All around. Panic began to slowly creep up as she looked. How to get out? She seemed to be standing in a small meadow. And the house she had just crawled out of was situated right in the middle of this meadow.
Was she still in California? She might not be. Turning her watch toward the light of the moon, Monica saw it was only eleven o'clock at night. She had been out cold for six hours. Enough time to get her across the border into Nevada. Or anywhere if they had used a plane.
And why didn't her assailments make themselves known? With her experience as an FBI agent, she knew they hadn't just let her go. They were watching her. And they wouldn't make it easy for her to get away.
Scanning the house, Monica looked for movement but saw none.
Okay, where to run? All of the woods looked the same and John wasn't here to give her his mocking lecture of how to determine where North, South, East and West were.
Monica smiled at the fond memory of him trying to teach her and her smile froze on her face when she saw a man standing outside at the corner of the house. He was half hidden in the darkness but the moon illuminated his right leg and the right side of his face.
Knowle Rohrer.
"You bastard." Monica whispered as she stared at him. Knowle made no move toward her. He just simply watched her. And that scared Monica more than anything.
Move. She had to move. Monica turned away from him and began to half limp, half run towards the woods. She kept running, as fast as her body could manage. She thought she heard laughter behind her but she ignored it and pressed on. Reaching the edge of the woods, Monica threw herself into the shield of trees and kept going.
Her whole body ached and her leg muscles screamed as she dodged around stumps and rocks. Blood ran down her legs from gashes she had mysteriously received while knocked out. Her head felt like it was ready to roll off and she was incredibly thirsty.
Monica ran for another twenty minutes before collapsing by a stream. Leaning down, she scooped up icy water and gulped it down. Relief settled over her as the water trickled down and soothed her burning throat.
Once she had had enough water, Monica sat up and looked around. She had no idea which direction she was going. Maybe it didn't matter since she didn't hear any crashing sounds of footsteps coming towards her. Not yet anyway. She had to keep moving.
But she was so tired. And she felt like someone had run over her with their car, backed up and run over her again.
Monica laughed at the stupidity of that thought. At the whole situation. She had been in far worse. So maybe she had had someone with her before, but she could handle this one on her own.
Monica got up and began to painfully jog again through the dark trees. She would make it out alive.
Or she'd die trying.