Mercantile Credit Bank
Gateway Plaza Complex
Loudoun County, Virginia
4:35 PM
Blood. There was blood everywhere, it seemed. Staining the marble floor of the bank, it looked like some macabre mosaic left by a savage people. Hostages lay huddled against the floor, watching every move the gunman made as he furiously paced. Here and there a footprint tracked the blood away from it's source. Some clear, some showing evidence of having caused the object of their making to slip in the slick, oily substance.
In the space of a few minutes Mulder's entire world had exploded around him. One minute he was depositing a check, and the next he was on the floor with a lunatic waving a gun near him.
What the hell had happened?
What had started out as a normal 'Mulder-you're-nuts' disagreement had quickly turned almost bitter. Whatever was bothering the two of them needed to be sorted out, and Mulder knew it wouldn't happen while they were still hot. So he'd yanked the car over to the curb and headed into the first bank building he could find. They needed a break from each other, and he really did have a pay check to deposit.
He loved his partner, but sometimes, he just wanted to shake her! Lying on the floor, listening to the fading echos of gunshots, Mulder replayed the last few minutes in his mind. He'd mumbled an apology absently to an old lady he'd bumped into on his way in, and stood quietly at the teller's deposit window, waiting for the woman to finish her notes from the previous transaction.
He was so lost in his thoughts that it took a minute to register the sudden disquiet in the echoing room. Glancing at the cashier's face, he froze, then followed her glance to the man standing a few windows down. He was well over six feet tall and skinny as a beanpole. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, giving his gaunt facial features a skeletal appearance. Dressed in rumpled, well worn clothing, he looked decidedly out of place amongst the tailored business suits and smart casual clothes of the other customers in the busy bank. Mulder noted the tension in the cashier's stance and watched as she began to slide a hand down towards the panic button hidden under the counter. Trying to catch her eye, he shook his head slightly.
Noticing the movement, the dishevelled man suddenly erupted with an escalating shout, "I said NOBODY MOVE!!"
The sharp crack of the gunshot startled everyone. Mulder saw the cashier's shoulder explode in a crimson spray of blood and bone. He hit the floor, ears ringing, trying to listen for sounds of life on the other side of the counter. A faint groan and muttered reassurances from her co-workers told him she was alive - for now at least. Suddenly there were shots coming from every corner of the room. One of the gunmen took out the old security guard in the corner, another stood on a small table firing shots into the air.
In the noise and confusion it was hard to figure out just who was in charge, just who was responsible for the carnage in the room. Mulder knew that the instant the shots were fired somebody outside, maybe even Scully, had activated the local EMS teams. Glancing carefully around, trying not to attract anyone's attention, Mulder slowly eased his coat open. If he could just get to his weapon...
"HEY!! I said DON'T MOVE!!"
Mulder winced and ducked his head, certain that the gunman was talking to him. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the man's approach, his dirty boots tracking blood with his every step. Startled when the man moved past him, he winced in sympathy at the sound of a solid object striking flesh. He heard the groan behind him as the man who'd carelessly moved slid to the floor.
"You, with the hair. Get up!"
Mulder looked up to see the gunman pointing a weapon at his face.
"Over there with the others." He gestured to where his men were lining the other people up against the teller wall, too low for the cameras to pick up.
These guys are good Mulder gingerly climbed to his feet. Walking swiftly to where the other hostages were now gathered, he stood with his back against the wall, watching the three men intently, committing their descriptions to his formidable memory.
It was obvious by the way that the blond guy was taking charge that he was the trio's leader. There was something about him, an underlying ruthlessness that manifested itself in his actions. Everything that he did was measured, self assured, as though he would go to any lengths to see the job through. He conveyed a leadership quality that practically screamed to be obeyed. He had a plan, and from what Mulder could tell, it was a good one.
His second in command was a big, burly guy. He looked like he'd been weaned on molten lead instead of milk. Muscle-bound to the point of parody he looked like a Rambo gone wrong. He perspired profusely, and had donned a Vietnam-style bandanna around his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Large hands cradled an assault rifle as though it were something he truly cherished. His trigger finger lovingly stroked the cool metal as someone would stroke a lover, but it was the feral gleam in his eyes that caught Mulder's attention.
Although he couldn't be certain, Mulder feared that it had been this man that had needlessly taken out the elderly security guard. The poor man's bullet riddled body lay in a rapidly expanding lake of blood in the far corner of the lobby. The gleam in Burly Guy's eyes was no doubt a sign of his growing anticipation at using the weapon again. To Mulder's highly trained eye, this man posed a serious threat to the welfare of the hostages. He could only hope that Blondie knew how to keep him on his leash.
The remaining gunman looked to be the complete antithesis of his buddies. He was short, stocky, and had a prematurely receding hairline. He trembled noticeably and his eyes seemed to do a continuous circuit of the room, as if he were waiting for the world to come crashing down at any second. Mulder noticed that someone, possibly Burly Guy, had given him a Glock to use. It made sense in a way. The Glock was possibly the easiest handgun to master, there wasn't much to remember, you simply pointed it and fired. If the other two members of the team hadn't been so dangerous Mulder would have considered trying to defuse the situation through this man. He was the weakest link, more likely the one to snap as the crisis continued. The type of man that he had been trained to take advantage of.
Still reviewing his options, he watched the blond leader snap up a teller's phone on the first ring. That'll be the negotiation team. Don't fuck up, boys. he pleaded silently. Turning his attention back to the armed men before him, he toyed briefly with the idea of trying to reason with the weakest man.
No, Mulder thought, if I am to have any success here it would be with the leader. It didn't appear he'd have that chance, however. Blondie was becoming increasingly more aggressive and agitated as he argued with the mediator over the phone. Mulder knew the verbal road to freedom was about to come to a dead end.
He just hoped that dead wouldn't become the operative word. As if to prove Mulder's thoughts right, Blondie yelled a string of obscenities down the phoneline before yanking the cord from the from the wallsocket. A moment later the handset was hurled into the far corner of the room, disintegrating with the impact.
"Who do they fucking think they are?" Blondie screamed, "I've got all the aces here... don't they think I'll use them?"
His angry roar of frustration was accompanied by a savage burst of gunfire, shredding the ceiling under which the hostages cowered. Screams of terror punctuated the noise of the weapon's discharge as the hostages clung to each other in fear of their lives. As the noise finally ebbed away pieces of plaster began to fall from the ceiling tiles to cover the small frightened group like confetti.
"You!" Blondie pointed to one of the trembling hostages. "Drag that sorry son-of-a-bitch outta here." The weapon's muzzle indicated the prone, lifeless body of the security guard that had been killed during the earlier deadly hail of bullets.
"If you're not back inside here in thirty seconds, I'll waste one of these fine-lookin' ladies!"
The hostage sprang to his feet and did as ordered. He dragged the poor grey-haired man's corpse by the arms toward the double glass doors at the front of the building. All the while Blondie kept his weapon trained upon the unfortunate soul doing the donkey work, a constant reminder of the man's own precarious hold on mortality. The trembling hostage dumped the body on the sidewalk and practically sprinted back into the bank. Mulder couldn't help but wonder where Scully was. Thank God she hadn't followed him into the bank. He figured she was probably at the command post tearing her hair out. A small smile graced his lips as he suddenly realised how unlikely that scenerio would be.
More likely she would be gearing up with the rest of the HRT assault team preparing, if necessary, to storm the building, psyching herself up to come crashing through the double glass doors like the vengeful right hand of God himself.
Hell hath no fury like a Scully scorned.
He shook those vivid thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.
The stillness of the large room was broken only by the occasional sniffle from the crowd along the wall. Blondie and Burly Guy conversed in angry hisses in a corner while the other man stood watch over the hostages. The sound of Mulder's cell-phone chirping made him suddenly jump.
Mulder watched as Blondie approached, tilting his head to try to pinpoint the sound of the cell-phone. Stopping in front of Mulder he gestured him forward.
"What's this, buddy? Hm? The wife want you to pick something up on the way home?"
He reached into Mulder's inside pocket, Mulder trying to twist his body away so the man wouldn't encounter his holster.
"Yeah!" Blondie said into the phone. "Who? No, I'm a...friend. That's right. Who should I say is calling? Kersh?"
Mulder shuddered, just what he needed. Any second now and Kersh would say the magic word... Blondie's eyes lit up and his gaze narrowed as he looked back at Mulder.
"Agent Mulder? Agent? Nope, he's unavailable!" Mulder groaned silently as the man's eyes shone with an almost manic glow. Chuckling, he grabbed Mulder by the back of the neck and pushed him forward. "Hey guys, we have another bargaining chip! This guy's an agent!"
Mulder tried to make the best of it. "Um, yeah, I'm an, um, insurance agent, and I, um, well, that was my boss, and..."
His head snapped sideways as Burly Guy smacked him across the face with the butt of his weapon. Hot, sharp pain lanced across his cheekbone. His right eye throbbed and began to swell, and Mulder could feel the warm, sticky blood trail down his cheek from the cut below the eye.
"Shut up pal!"
He felt the man holding him pull his hands roughly behind his back. The unmistakable feel of steel circled his wrists as the other gunman used the security guard's discarded handcuffs to secure him. The cuffs bit sharply into his skin, making him hiss against his will. Burly Guy only grinned in evil amusement at his discomfort before using the weapon to smack him across the face again.
"Hate cops," he said by way of explanation, "hate Feds even more."
"Well, that's something you share with half the police departments across the country." Mulder replied wryly, but his forced bravado only resulted in another backhand smack to his face.
Mulder swayed on his feet, pressing into the body of the third gunman as he tried to keep his balance. Burly Guy gave another evil grin before placing a meaty hand upon Mulder's shoulder and forcing him to his knees.
Blondie gave Mulder a final shove forward and stood over him menacingly, "Insurance salesman my ass, you dress too good!" He gestured for his men to hold Mulder still while he searched his pockets.
"Hmm, standard wallet, one gun, and, ahHA! One ID wallet. Let's just see here...oh looky here boys. I'd like you to meet one Fox Mulder, FBI Special Agent."
Snarling, Blondie leaned close to Mulder's face, his breath making him gag slightly.
"Fox? What the hell is that about? Your parents hate you or something?"
He looked at Mulder in digust before turning his attention back to Mulder's phone, "I'm pretty sure you guys always travel in pairs. At least you do on TV. Isn't that right Mr. FBI?" He shook his long hair out of his eyes as he tapped a few buttons on Mulder's phone. "Geez, nice suit, bad tie...hell, you're a regular Elliot Ness." Finding the combination he wanted, he hit 'send' on the phone. "Here we go. No ring on your hand, so I'd guess ole number one on the speed dial here would be el partner-o, whaddya say Mr. Ness?"
Blondie grinned as the phone was answered with a tense, "Scully."
The man snarled into the phone, "Scully who?" There was a definite sneer in his voice as though he were speaking to someone much lower on the evolutionary chain than himself. Mulder bit back a grin of his own as he realised that his partner would pick up on the man's belittling attitude toward her. His blatant chauvinism would only succeed in upping Scully's ire by a factor of ten.
He didn't envy being in this guys shoes when she finally came crashing through those doors. With the attitude he was displaying it was a foregone conclusion that his balls would be hers.
"Take a look at the monitor and all will be revealed." Blondie ordered, "I'm guessing you've got a shitload of fibre optic images being pumped into that tin can you're sitting in."
Mulder could hear Scully faintly. He couldn't hear her replies, but could imagine her standing in the command center, frantically getting the commander's attention. Scully. Oh God. What he wouldn't give to be arguing with her right now.
"A concerned citizen." Blondie's voice cut through Mulder's thoughts. "Listen bitch I ain't got time to play any more fucking games. Look at the monitor!"
He yanked Mulder forward, dragging him along by his shirt collar, his knees sliding along the marbled floor as smoothly as an ice puck, until they were right below one of the main bank cameras. Grabbing a chair, he stood on it and shoved Mulder's ID into the lense. He gave them a few minutes to stew, enjoying the power he held. He held all the cards now, including an ace in the hole. Not only did he have a bank full of money and hostages, but now he had one of them as well. And he damn well knew they'd do anything for each other.
Time to get moving. "What price do you put upon your partner's life, Agent Scully?"
Mulder's eyes closed as he listened to the man talk to his partner. What price? He knew. He knew his value to the Bureau and to his partner. He also knew just who's price tag would win in the end. He also knew that if the situation were reversed he'd negotiate and stall as long as he could. Scully's hands were tied, though, when all was said and done. He knew that, so did she. But, being Scully, she'd try to keep this bastard occupied until someone could present a viable solution.
Oh, Scully. He hated the position she was in. The position they were both in. For him it would end one way or another, but for her, whatever happened here would stay with her forever. If he died here she'd never forgive herself, no matter who's final decision sealed his fate. He knew he wouldn't if the situation were reversed.
"You still haven't answered my question." Pacing back and forth, Blondie asked again, "What price do you put upon your partner's life?" He scowled as he listened to the woman on the other end of the line. Jesus, a woman FBI partner. No wonder the man seemed like a wuss. What kind of a weenie got a whiny woman as a partner. Growing angrier by the minute he finally exploded.
"It's that fucking simple lady. You do what I say or I'll blow your fucking partner's brains all over this bank!" There was a collective gasp from the other hostages as he yanked Mulder closer to him, jabbing the muzzle of the gun against his temple. "Aw shit! I don't know why I decided to call you motherfuckers anyway."
The metal was cool against his head, sending a slight anxious tremor through his body. A detached part of him vaguely acknowledged that this was it. This was going to be the end.
"Say bye to your partner, lady..." Blondie spat into the phone.
Mulder heard Scully's faint "No!" He braced himself as the man began to squeeze the trigger. After a second or two he peeked up at him in confusion, he was listening again to something on the phone.
For an eternity they were frozen in a strange tableau, the two men holding Mulder firmly by the shoulders, the gunman listening to the argument rage on the phone and Mulder, his head down and thoughts turned inward to only one person.
Scully.
And the hell she must be going through. Suddenly the man before him erupted in furious anger. Swearing and raving, he waved Mulder's badge before him, shouting into the phone. With a ferocious growl he whipped the badge across the room, stopping his tirade as he caught sight of something falling from the wallet. Mulder bit back another groan as the man picked up the envelope.
"What's this?" He grinned evilly at Mulder.
"Nothing, it's nothing. Don't–" Mulder was silenced by another blow to the face. "Shut up Ness, I don't care what you think."
Snatching the phone from the floor, the man lowered his voice, "Is Agent Scully there?"
Mulder looked up dazed. He hadn't realised that the gunman was now talking to someone else. This new knowledge now brokered a question. Where was Scully? Was she preparing to storm the building with the rest of the team? He strained his ears, trying to listen to the voice now on the other end of the line. Praying that his torment would soon be over. That the change in mediator spelled an iminent change in circumstances.
"You ran roughshod over her, huh?" Blondie's voice practically dripped sarcasm. "Well if she's still there I think she'd probably like to hear this."
Mulder's hopes plummeted to about the same level as his stomach. She was still there and that had to mean that there would be no rescue just around the corner.
"Agent Scully, did you know that Agent Mulder carries an envelope stashed behind his badge addressed to you?"
If he hadn't already been on his knees, he would have sank to them. Mulder listened as the man gleefully ripped open the envelope. Damn, he knew he should have thrown the damn thing out!
"Shall we see what's inside?"
It was too much. Mulder leaped to his feet. "NO! Don't do that! Ung..." With a cry of pain, he slipped to his knees once more as Burly Guy hit him again.
With a harsh laugh, Blondie planted himself in front of Mulder, the phone tucked under his chin. "Oh man..." He shook his head as he scanned further down the page. "Oh man...Agent Scully, have you ever got to hear this."
No, please, Mulder thought. He lifted his gaze to his captor's.
"Please... don't do this to her!" He remembered writing this to her, remembered how desperate he was to get the words down on paper before they escaped him. Now he was sorry he had. Sorry he hadn't just taken the time to say them to her privately. He didn't want her to hear them now, like this. Not in front of the world, where she couldn't hear the love in his voice, the feelings behind the words.
He listened as the words he wrote, so familiar to him, were uttered in the harsh, guttural sounds of the madman before him.
"'Scully, my strong, loyal Scully. As I write this, I pray for but a mere drop of the strength that you posses within your body."' Mulder shuddered as the man glanced from the letter to him and back again. He tried to concentrate on a possible plan of action, to block out the words he'd once written in love and now hated to hear read aloud. Inexorably, the man continued, his halting stutter marring the beauty behind the written words. '"I know that only in death can I finally muster the courage to speak the words that need to be spoken. Words that were forever perched upon my lips, waiting for a moment, a time when they could be uttered in peace... without the fear of repercussion or repris... '"
A sudden loud explosion caught everyone by surprise. Of course, Mulder thought, what a perfect time to hit. The leader's distracted, lulled by his own amusements. It's what I'd do.
Glass and debris were thrown into the building, hitting gunman and hostage without mercy. The room suddenly lit up like a super nova as the flashbangs tossed in by the assault team detonated. The ear- splitting thunder of the grenades added to the confusion in the echoing lobby.
Cries of, "FBI, DROP YOUR WEAPONS!!" rang out, along with the sharp sounds of gunfire. One of the gunmen holding Mulder dropped to his knees with a groan. Dropping the letter, Blondie spun furiously, waving his remaining ally to the far wall.
Mulder dove sideways, landing on another man pinned in the crossfire. A hostage like himself, they both tried to remain motionless in the confusion around them. Blondie caught sight of Mulder and his companion in the corner and grinned, madness glinting in his eyes. Ignoring the sounds and chaos around him, he stood straight and leveled his gun at Mulder.
"I SAID... DROP YOUR WEAPON!" Again, a voice rang out from the gloom.
Speaking into the phone for the last time, Blondie said, "Guess you and Agent Mulder just ran out of time." Squeezing the trigger with each word, his last words were punctuated by sharp gunfire, "Say goodbye to Elliot Ness, Scully."
The final explosion of gunfire deafened everyone in the room. Smoke, debris, shards and bullets flew everywhere, pinging off of metal objects. Shouts and cries filled the air as the innocent and guilty alike were assaulted in the rescue.
Inching carefully forward, the assault team's pointman watched the dust settle in the room. He knew he'd taken out the leader, but not before the man began firing into a corner. Hating what he was sure he was going to find, the black-clad rescuer moved forward, his feet crunching on the broken glass and shards below. Shit. shitshitshitshit. Damn. Glancing around the room, he got a nod from his second in command. The man held up two fingers. Nodding in response, he keyed his mike again.
"Control... We have confirmed fatalities inside the bank. Three Target's and one Caucasian male. We're gonna need ambulances."
Yanking off his hood, the rescuer knelt by the bodies before him. His rudimentary first aid skills might be enough to help the poor guy stuck below the fallen hostage. From somewhere outside, mixed with the wail of the approaching sirens, he heard an anguished cry.
"MULDER!!"