Chapter Five
Outside the Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.
January 5th, 2001, 12:49 a.m.
"McClellan, pick three of your best men and prepare for an interior assault," Lieutenant Carson Raines spoke to the SWAT team's commander.Scully completed her intercourse with Reyes; her plane had just touched down onto a runway at Dulles. But as Scully strolled over to Raines, she had a feeling about the scenario he was preparing to release. And there was no way in Hell that she would let a stupid decision like an all out assault be the death of her partner.
"May I ask what your intentions are, Lieutenant?" she inquired of the police officer, who was on the tail end of his cigar. Raines took a few last puffs and threw it onto the ground, smashing the cigar with the tip of his foot.
"We're going in, that's what my intentions are."
"Forgive my intrusion, Lieutenant, but I don't think that that would be a wise idea. Have you heard anything he's said and done in there?"
"Go on ahead, McClellan, and get ready. On second thought, wait a second." The commander was about to walk away, but he halted in his tracks. Raines turned to Scully. "You're right. We need someone who knows the inside. Do you think your boss would be willing to give us a hand?"
"That isn't the reason why I'm objecting to your invasion. Would you like to listen?" She unhooked the earpiece from her lobe and held it up in her palm to Raines' face. His hands went up to his hips.
"Just how do you propose we get inside, then? Teleport?"
"I'm saying that going inside just might not be the best idea...yet. He's a desperate man."
"Good. Then he's got a weakness of poor judgment, and we'll be able to use it against him."
"Lieutenant, I understand you want to get this man off of the streets, but I'm also interested in my partners' welfare. Shouldn't you be interested in that as well?" Scully questioned him.
"We have their best interests in mind, believe me, Agent..."
"Scully."
"Agent Scully," he finished and nodded his gratitude. "Desk agent or field agent?"
"Field work, mostly. Do you doubt my experience, Raines?"
"Maybe not as an investigator. But we don't have time for an investigation here, Agent Scully. I have men that are more than willing to put their lives on the line for your partners, if you're so concerned by the way, and I don't need any federal obstructions keeping them from completing their duty. You're here to help me understand how those two men can help mine bring down this bastard. If I wanted tactical advice, I would be speaking to my captain on the phone right now. Are we clear?"
"One of them is incapacitated and both of them are unarmed. That's not to mention that Barnes may have an ulterior motive to killing them."
"What're you saying?"
"Think about it, Lieutenant. He broke into the FBI, took down the security, cut the phone lines, and kidnapped four people. Two of them escaped. And when an outside call was placed via cell phone, he made no demands whatsoever. What do you think he's got planned?"
"He could be wired," Raines acquiesced and dismissed the SWAT team leader. "We'll hold off until a visual can be maintained of the situation, and we'll decide from there whether a full assault would be appropriate."
"Or he could have the building wired, too, we just don't know."
"Then you tell me what we do know about this jackass. I've got plans and simulations coming from out the wazoo, and I'm tired of waiting. Now since you've got me thinking about a bomb, you tell me why he hasn't detonated it already."
"I believe Barnes is mentally unstable."
"No shit. Anybody that'd go up against the FBI and Washington PD was born under pistachio, the sign of the nut. Now exactly who and what is this guy? Did you find that out through your crystal ball?"
Scully was foaming at the mouth, and she inhaled sharply to calm herself down.
"We're still researching that information," was her response.
"Well listen, federal agent, I've got people to answer to as well as incapacitate that maniac. You've got half an hour to tell me why I shouldn't put my men in there or come up with a better idea. In the meanwhile, I'll bring in a member of the bomb squad down for reconnaissance. Either way, I'm sending somebody in."
Raines pulled out another cigar and stormed off. Scully banged her fist onto the police car's roof and opened the car door. Just as she sat in the passenger's seat, her cell phone trilled. "Scully."
"I just got word from the Director, Scully," Skinner's voice was despondent. "He told me that Barnes did not get to testify yet; therefore, his records are still sealed."
"He's denying us access? But...did you tell him our situation?"
"He apologizes profusely, Agent, but the Bureau's policy is that unless the victim in the Witness Protection Program has died or testified and given us permission to do so, we are not to tamper with those records."
"Two of our own, sir!"
"One of our own, now, Scully," Skinner reminded her. "I care about Mulder as much as you, but remember, he's not in the Bureau anymore."
"It's all the more reason for us to be able to get into those files--call him back and tell him that a civilian is involved, sir."
"Need I remind you how late it is, Agent Scully? I woke up the Director of the FBI from a deep sleep once already..."
"Does he understand his responsibilities, then? What does Kersh have to say about all of this?"
"I spoke with him, and he said that if the Director gave his permission to do so, that he'd give his access codes to us. There's got to be another way, Agent Scully."
"We're running short of time...Raines is preparing a SWAT team to strike the Bureau in," she glanced at her watch, "twenty-five minutes. Argh. I need Mulder's brain."
"I have another idea, but it might be a little time consuming, I don't know. I think we might be dealing with two kidnappers." Scully re-inserted her earpiece.
"Two, sir? Why isn't he speaking with the accomplice?"
"I didn't say that they knew one another. Remember when he was speaking to you in German on the phone?"
"Yes, very well."
"I didn't recognize that voice as belonging to Barnes."
"Of course it was his, sir."
"I don't doubt it was coming from his mouth, Agent, but I don't think that the voice specifically belonged to Barnes. I could have Hale play them back to you if you need further proof."
"What's your point, sir?"
"We might be dealing with a Norman Bates. Or worse, the mother."
"You're saying that he might have dissociative identity disorder? That could warrant why one of the personalities can speak perfect Spanish and English, but yet the other can only speak fluent German and poor English. I'll check on his medical records," Scully nodded, swung her legs inside of the car, and shut the door.
"Yes, do that. We know that both parties inside of the suspect's head are hostile, but which one is the dominant one? Which is the one that might actually do something if the SWAT team gets in there? And another question, Agent. Is Reyes on the scene yet?"
"I asked her to go over to the Gunmen's headquarters, sir. Why?"
"There won't be a need for her to go there since we can't get into the WPP database." Scully rolled down the window and leaned her elbow onto it.
"With all due respect, sir, I don't think our work with them has finished yet. We need a good mind out there while the both of us are stuck here. Well, I'm not stuck here, but I want to be here when-"
"I know what you mean, Agent. That's fine. Just keep me in the loop."
Inside the Hoover Building, 1:02 a.m.
"Damn, I wish I had Scully's brain right now," Mulder grumbled as he removed his belt from his jeans and wrapped it around Doggett's thigh. "Look, Doggett, I don't wanna do this because I'm afraid I'll hurt you, so you've got to...-"
"Uhnn..." was the only answer from the former New York cop as his head lolled to the side. Mulder only had basic first aid and only a fraction of Scully's medical knowledge, but he knew that he had to by all means keep Doggett awake. Most importantly, he had to try and get Doggett to the hospital, but from the last escape scenario they pulled, it would be quite useless. Barnes could shoot him too, and for all he knew, be deadly accurate.
The man was cowering on the floor behind a bureau rocking himself back and forth with his head in his hands. It sounded like he was muttering too, but Mulder couldn't decipher what language it was, and so he decided that it was best to leave Barnes alone. "I guess I'll do it. Maybe the pain will wake you up. But please, whenever you get your gun back, do not remember this and please do not shoot me for what I'm about to do."
Mulder fixed one arm upon Doggett's thigh and the buckle as he prepared to pull the loose belt taut. With one fluid motion, he tightened it, and Doggett's eyes flew open. He grunted in pain and shock--Mulder wasn't sure which, because Doggett went right back to his previous condition. "Come on, Doggett. You're supposed to be the tough one here. I tell ya, I'm not really sure what to make of this guy. I mean, back in med. school, we studied hundreds of dissociative identity disorder patients. But most of them were either women or children. A few here and there were men; and we called them..." he smacked his lips together, "we called them multiple personality disorders back then. Guess we got a little bit fancier and moved with the times, you know, like how secretaries are now called 'executive assistants' and all. Or garbage men are named 'sanitation engineers'. Sheesh. Next they'll be calling comedians 'joke coordinators'.
"But anyhow, these patients had experienced highly traumatic events, usually caused by ritualistic abuse...sometimes Satanic. Sometimes...not. I talked to a convict once. He was a white Caucasian male in his late thirties, and he had been raped. His mind split into four separate people: a seven year old girl from Vietnam, a twenty-two year old woman from Los Angeles that was a model, and a seventy-six year old man that was suffering from lung cancer and a denizen of Chicago, Illinois. You know who the dominant personality was? The seven year old. It's amazing and both terribly tragic as to how the human mind copes with such wrongdoings. Yet I can't help but wonder what's happened to this man. What pushed him over the edge?"
Doggett groaned, and Mulder took that as a response to move on.
"You know, I looked back as I was doing my dissertation, on my family. Did my own parents develop it, you know, as a result of my sister's abduction? It was just a brief consideration at the time, but I knew quickly soon after that it was not true. They changed, yes, but...--they withdrew into themselves instead. If they had only gone to family counseling...never mind. What happened was meant to be, and there's nothing I can do about it now. Oh, well, uh...ah yes, back to the case. Case? Matter at hand, I mean. Trying to dissect people's mental images of themselves is like trying to separate an egg yolk from the egg whites. One idea always seems to mix in with the others, and then you bounce right back to square one. I wish I could talk to Scully. I need to speak with her...now." Mulder peeked around the corner at Barnes and crawled over to the front of the desk.
His hand languidly slid across it and felt around for his cell phone, but the muzzle of a gun met his hand first. "I still don't understand what that thing is, but you're not to be touching it," Barnes declared whilst standing above Mulder's hand.
"All right, fine, can I have my hand back now?" Barnes removed the gun and traveled around to Mulder, who was still sitting on the floor.
"Did you leave them with her?"
"Who?"
"This is no time to play games, Granger, and if I have to use excessive force, I will resort to that method."
"I feel like I'm stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone," Mulder complained. "Now let me get this straight. Your name is not Craig Barnes."
"I don't know who that is. Stop wasting my time and tell me where those letters are hidden," Barnes barked.
"And you don't speak Spanish. So my question to you is...why were you yelling at my partner?"
"So that's what you Americans call her, huh? Well, it doesn't matter. Not now...not anymore. My English is not quite up to date, but wouldn't you call her type a 'dirty double crosser', ∫a?"
"Scully? No, never! Well, she did shoot me once," Mulder mumbled. "But may I ask who you are?"
"My name is Wilhem Schultz, but I gather that you already know very well everything else about me. And incidentally, this gun is much better than the Luger. It doesn't jam up nearly so much, and the ammunition clip is fairly larger. Who makes this?"
"A company called Sauer. I don't know anything else about you. May I call you Wilhem?"
"Commander Schultz will do." Suddenly, Mulder understood that the German was an agent of the Gestapo and was bewildered as to how Schultz's personality became ingrained into Barnes' mind. "Does this thing work as a radio as well?" He pointed to the cell phone with the gun's barrel and then back to Mulder.
"No, it's a telephone."
"Then where is the cable to the wall? I think you are playing games with me, Granger. Tell the truth, or I'll shoot you in the shoulder."
"I am telling the truth. That's how you were talking to the woman...her name is Scully."
"No...her name is Kennedy. For the last time, Granger...where are those letters?" Barnes' finger switched the two safeties off, and Mulder inhaled deeply.
"She's an FBI agent and my partner. Now please, tell me, why have you come to kill me?"
"I didn't come to kill you. But believe me, there have been many times when I had thought about it. Those are not my orders."
"Then what are they?"
"I am to secure the letters and intercept the traitor as well as you. Come, now, I hate having to travel around with a wounded prisoner," Barnes stated solemnly.
"Well, you've got me. Where do you want to go? There are probably no fewer than a hundred members of the Washington PD and the FBI outside. You'd have to demand transportation. So how about it?" Mulder suggested and pointed to the cell phone. "And what about Doggett? He needs hospitalization."
"I'll tell them he needs it if you tell me where the letters are."
"Commander Schultz, you're barking up the wrong tree. I tell you that I don't honestly know what you're talking about."
"What's your name?" Barnes' voice changed once more into his American accent and shocked Mulder to death. "I asked you what your name was."
"Mulder."
"You got a first name, Mulder?"
"Of course I do, but I don't care for it. Am I speaking to Craig now?"
"I don't see that guy talking too much," the criminal signaled over to Doggett, who appeared to still be barely conscious.
"Craig, what do you want here?"
"Case files. Evidence. Hard, solid evidence to take down the Perelli family."
"Why, Craig? What happened?"
"Take me down to the Organized Crime Section. You're going to be the agent to re-write the report."
"There might be a problem with that, uh, Craig, see...I'm not an FBI agent anymore. I was just here today to clean out my belongings from my desk when you kind of blew in through the front door."
"You can just reformat the document provided we find the computer file."
"I'm afraid I'm not a computer hacker, Mr. Barnes. I do want to help you, though. First of all, why do you want to attack the Perelli family?"
"'Cause justice isn't so blind as she appears to be."
"I need more information, please, Craig. Tell me more."
"You'll find it all in that agent's desk. They bought him off--dirty bastard."
"Who?"
Barnes shrugged and turned away.
"I'd really like to help you out, Craig, but I can't. As much as I hate injustice and infidelity, I lack the skills to be able to bring up your case files. But with your permission, I do know of some people that might be able to do so," Mulder gestured toward the cell phone.
"No. No outside contacts."
"Then I'm afraid you're stuck--Agent Doggett can't give you what you want either."
"Then you leave me with no choice." Barnes brought the gun back up to Mulder's face, and suddenly, Doggett sprang with amazing vitality onto Barnes to tackle him down to the ground. The gun fell to the ground, and the two men rolled over it before Mulder could grab it. As their struggle continued and it seemed as though Doggett was winning the battle, Barnes grabbed his arm and squeezed it roughly.
Doggett recoiled and keeled over. Barnes seized the gun and aimed it dangerously inches away from Doggett's nose. "No, wait! Don't kill him!" Mulder pleaded.
"It's too late. I don't need dis man," Barnes' Germanic accent came back.
"Is that what you're all about? Killing Doggett won't solve your problems. Believe me. It's very likely that the FBI has set up listening devices so they can hear us, and make no mistake about it, they will come in here and kill you if you shoot him. Then how can you accomplish your mission if you're dead?"
"I already am dead, you fool. And now, so is he." Mulder pushed Barnes' arms away as the gun fired, and Barnes rewarded Mulder with a blow to the back of the head for his troubles. The former FBI agent tumbled onto Doggett, who grimaced painfully.