Mulder stood in the parking lot, the cool breeze tugging at his coat as he fumbled with his cellphone, trying to dial Skinner's number. His fingers were slightly numb, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of frustration and worry. Scully was inside, and he was still stuck outside, fighting for a chance to see her, to understand what was really going on. He needed to talk to someone, anyone who could help—Skinner, the Gunmen, someone.
As he squinted at his phone's screen, the low hum of an engine caught his attention. He glanced up and saw a near luxury sedan pulling into a spot not far from him. The car slowed, and Mulder's eyes narrowed instinctively. The driver's door opened, and a man stepped out—a tall, well-groomed individual wearing an expensive suit. His face was familiar, but it took Mulder a second to place him.
It was one of the doctors he had seen at the hospital where Penny Northern had died. The same cold, clinical demeanor, the same air of authority. Mulder's stomach tightened as the man walked toward the entrance of the facility, his steps brisk and purposeful.
Something didn't sit right with Mulder. The man's presence was too coincidental. Penny Northern's death from the exact same cancer that almost ended Scully's life, and now this doctor—connected to the facility where Scully was staying—was showing up at just the right time?
Mulder quickly looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, then he pulled his phone from his pocket. He snapped a photo of the doctor as he entered the building, the license plate of the car visible in the frame.
He quickly punched in the number for the Gunmen, his heart pounding. "Frohike," he said as soon as the call was answered, trying to keep his voice steady despite the anxiety rushing through him. "I need you to run a background check on a guy. License plate number's in the photo I'm sending you. I want to know everything about him—where he's worked, who he's connected to, everything."
"Mulder? What's going on?" Frohike's voice crackled through the phone, though the curiosity was clear in his tone.
"Just get on it," Mulder urged, his gaze still fixed on the door the doctor had gone through. "I'm not leaving here until I know more. Something's not right. Scully's in that facility for a reason, but this guy... he's connected to Penny Northern's death. I'm not sure how yet, but I need to know who he is."
Frohike's voice dropped to a serious tone. "Got it. You'll have it soon."
Mulder hung up the phone and exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He walked quickly to his car, already planning his next move. If this doctor was involved in Penny Northern's death—and by extension, involved with whatever was happening to Scully—Mulder wasn't going to let him slip away unnoticed.
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to shift, but Mulder knew the road ahead was far from clear. He just had to stay one step ahead of them—whoever *they* were.