Genesis
Ally

Chapter 23

Little Sisters of Mercy State Sanatorium. 11:37p.m.

Scully eyed the gun that lay on the locker beside her bed. She had awoken to find it there and could recall a vague conversation in which she had requested that she be allowed access to a weapon.

The exact nature of the conversation eluded her, but she could remember the basis for her request. She could now remember in great detail Mulder's actions and subsequent betrayal. She also knew that what Wickham had surmised was correct -- that Mulder would have no hesitation in coming and finishing the job off properly -- and when he did she was determined to be ready for him.

The sense of outrage had grown inside of her until it boiled in a cauldron of hatred so intense that it effectively blocked everything else out. She no longer questioned why her most trusted ally had betrayed her so completely, it no longer seemed relevant, and for her part she was only interested in self- preservation now.

The physical pain was still there, somewhat lessened now, but the slightest movement reminded her sharply what he had done and with it came an even stronger resolve that he should be made to pay for his actions.

Scully did not challenge this totally out of character conclusion, nor how she had come to it so completely. The drugs being fed in to her system had had the desired effect, and just as Wickham had been told she would, she now saw Mulder as one thing and one thing only - something to eliminate in whatever way she could. The FBI training was disregarded. It was now not something she even gave much of a thought to. Right or wrong no longer came in to it. Her every waking thought was firmly targeted on her partner. Of his destruction.

Scully closed her eyes . . . and waited.

********************

11:56p.m.

Skinner snatched up his cell phone even before it had completed it's first ring.

He had returned to his hotel a little over an hour ago after a fruitless day engaged in the attempted search of his missing Agents. The fact that Mulder had absconded from right under his nose with two armed guards outside the hospital room had not exactly improved his mood. Nor had the fact that he had spent half the afternoon trying in vain to contact SAIC Wickham.

He had finally given up in disgust and called it a day, knowing that if Mulder were going to get in touch, that it would be sometime during the night, after he had had a chance to investigate his partner's disappearance more thoroughly.

Skinner had not known whether to feel angry or relieved that Mulder had checked himself out of the hospital. On the one hand he knew that sick or not, Mulder was the one link that might unravel this whole mess. But the fact remained that he was sick and Skinner couldn't let go of the uncomfortable feeling that Mulder could well be laying in a gutter somewhere, weakened as he was from his recent ordeal.

To have one Agent missing was bad enough, but to have two was almost an impossibility, but suddenly the shrill tones of his phone drove away some of the uncertainty.

"Skinner." He barked, feeling the frustration course through him as he realised that the voice that greeted him on the other end was not Mulder's. He frowned. Something about the voice did seem familiar, and he dragged his mind back, trying to place it, eyes widening as the voice delivered it's grim message.

"Who is this?" he demanded angrily and then relaxed visibly as the caller identified himself warily.

"Frohike? What are you doing here? Where's Mulder?"

Almost unconsciously, Skinner's eyes darted wildly around the small room in search of his weapon as Frohike delivered Mulder's directions, and with the phone still held to his ear, he grabbed his gun and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

He reached his car in record time, and then sat for a few seconds, trying to arrange his thoughts in to some kind of rational order. He didn't know how Mulder had located Scully, or how he had determined that Wickham was involved, but Skinner had known his Agent long enough to not feel the need to question his reasoning.

Some called Mulder's ability to make great investigational leaps mere chance. Skinner called it instinct, plain and simple, and he wasn't about to disregard it. He had seen it too many times over the last six years to treat it with anything other than a deep respect.

It was what had kept Mulder ahead of the game for so long, and his ability to see clearly where others failed had undoubtedly kept him and Scully alive in their quest.

Skinner eyed his phone which he still held in his hand, knowing that the smart thing to do would be to call for back-up of some kind. He also suspected that, should he do so, the request would immediately be picked up by the wrong people and a reception committee of the most heinous nature would be waiting to greet them at their arrival at the sanatorium. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, cursing himself for his indecisiveness. To not call for assistance, especially out of his own area of jurisdiction was, at best, a break away from protocol and, at worst, grounds for dismissal. Lives could be lost and the finger would be firmly pointed in his direction for ignoring the most basic tactical rule.

He glanced at the phone again, it's LCD display glowing greenly in the darkness, and Skinner decided there and then that. for once in his life. he wasn't going to do the smart thing. Just for tonight. he was going to emulate Agent Mulder and trust his almost forgotten instincts.

He gunned the motor and prayed that they wouldn't let him down.

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