Before The War...
Ch 1
Tree branches violently pounded against the window panes, responding to the rising storm. While clouds once white swirled with the black of a thunderous background, the winds rose dust into the air and uprooted newly planted crops. The shutters of a small gray home held on to their hinges by fragments of wood. Rain soaked the thirsty fields and washed the countryside. The temperature fell creating a chill, this was the muffler for a heinous crime.
A man clad in sin slowly covered his hands with the gloves that would shield his identity. Black, worn and sacred these were his favorite pair. Always in his pocket, they never left his side. These gloves carried his indiscretions. He walked up the cement stairs passing through an unlocked doorway making his way toward his sleeping victims. This had become his routine. Cold steel clung to his hip awaiting its one and only purpose. This man was no stranger to destruction, he reveled in it. Doing what he had been taught, he placed the edge of the pistol to her head. Who she was, was irrelevant but what her child was had brought about her untimely fate as well as the dreaming man’s beside her. Without blinking, he tapped on the trigger that was all it took to steal a life. Shots never rang out, never pierced silence nor did they cause alarm among the neighbors. Instead they pierced the skin of two innocents, leaving crimson trails of evidence that the rain would soon rinse from being. He made his way to the child’s room to claim the treasure he had been sent to secure.
The creek of the door did little to faze him. When he reached the child’s bed he was distraught to find nothing but pillows. He had seen the child enter the house earlier that evening. He knew that the boy had never left the premises yet there was no sign of him in sight. Had the boy heard him enter, heard him kill his parents or had someone interfered with his plans. Enraged he threw the nearest lamp against the wall, creating a shrill crash. He reached for his phone, dreading the wrath he would encounter on the other line.
“He’s not here.”
“You better damn well find him; he is the key to all of our plans. Your life depends on it.” The conversation ended with a click. The man’s voice on the other line had been harsh and far from pleasant. It was edged with a rasp and deepened when angered.
Suddenly a siren could be heard in the distance. Apparently the lamps crash has been enough to startle the neighbors. The killer made his way out of the bedroom window and out onto the roof. He jumped barely landing on his feet and ran into the drenched night.
Ch2
The streets bustled as they always had with strangers whose busy lives intersected for mere moments never to traverse again. Each day framed another precious second of consciousness wasted on trivial tasks. The quiet life had done little to intrigue Scully and quite frankly it stole more of her soul then relentless tragedy ever could. At least with tragedy, one was in the process of growth and overcoming an obstacle, moving toward an unreachable destination but complacency is the worst of existences. It steals the flame that lights your soul ablaze and slowly you forget what you were searching for.
“Do the three boxes left belong in the living room?” Scully asked.
“They are mostly clothes and some old baseball cards nothing that needs to be put out right away.” Mulder answered.
They had contemplated moving back to the city for some time, to escape the mundane and heal the wounds that had been left within its limits and now they occupied a two bedroom apartment in Alexandria. The furnishings were scattered and eclectic but just enough of each life they had lived to make it home. She often watched as Mulder would fall into a dream on the sofa or read till the early hours of the morning. He hadn’t lost the child’s gaze that would take over his face whenever he found a new article that caught his interest and he certainly hadn’t given up the hope that one day he would become more that himself and accomplish what he had set out to do 17 years earlier. He never could let himself give up; even when it meant holding on would be forever painful.
“I have a surgery scheduled for noon. I doubt I will be home before night fall.” Scully said
She has been given an attending position at Georgetown University Medical Center and jumped at the chance to leave the bureaucracy of Our Lady of Sorrows. On this particular Tuesday in what could only be described as the perfect fall day, Scully found herself staring as the leaves covered the sidewalks. Mulder was quietly humming to himself as he watched the ball game while she couldn’t ripe her eyes from the people that cluttered the park. Some had come with their children and others with their lovers. There wasn’t a lonely soul among them. The unexpected ring of the phone jolted her mind from its daydream long enough to make her way to the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Scully this is Madeline from Assistant Director Skinner’s office. Please hold for the Assistant Director.”
Scully’s face sank as she recalled the last time she had seem AD Skinner. She had nearly lost Mulder for what she could only hope was the last time. His unexpected call gave way to a flood of memories that she would have rather not relived. She saw Mulder lying in the snow, his blood staining the ground around him. He had been only moments from death. His eyelids twitching in pain and disorientation; she held his head in her arms praying that this wasn’t the time she buried him. Once again Scully was shaken from her own thoughts by a familiar voice.
“Scully, Scully are you there?”
“Sir, I wasn’t expecting your call.” She cleared her throat in an effort to banish the images that hindered her from concentrating.
“I apologize for the unexpected nature but I have something you are going to want to see. I wondered whether I should even contact you but Agent Reyes insisted.”
“Monica insisted, about what?”
“It affects you. It affects you and Mulder. It’s pertinent you meet me at headquarters a quarter past one this afternoon. I can explain it better in person.”
Scully heard the phone hang up on the other end before she had the chance to protest. She slowly turned to see the man she had come to base her life around and wondered for a second if ignoring Skinner’s request would save them future agony but she trusted in Monica’s judgment and was curious at what could have possibly given the FBI reason to seeker Mulder and her out.
“Mulder…”
He faced her with a smile she came to realize she couldn’t live without. How would she convince him to trust the very organization that had stolen everything from him? How would she convince him, or herself for that matter, that the FBI didn’t intend them harm after everything that had happened?
Ch3.
The soles of their shoes collided with the marble floor of the Hoover building’s entrance. For a decade these floors had been worn with traces of the lives they had lived. Agents that had only been teenagers and Quantico cadets when Special Agents Mulder and Scully graced these corridors now stared as the legends themselves briskly passed. The stares went unnoticed by Mulder as many social aspects of life did. The agents whispered of how ‘it couldn’t be them’ and ‘I thought they were dead’, while others that remembered them all too well prayed that the Bureau’s most unwanted would not be calling the J Edgar Hoover building home again.
Skinner’s door was only a few yards ahead, when Mulder took Scully’s forearm and lead her to an unoccupied corner. He took a moment to read her expression and gaze into her eyes. Their iced blue exteriors told him that she was reluctant to see what Skinner had deemed so important. He knew that she had seen so much evil at the hands of the men who claimed to be working to help her that he didn’t blame her reluctance. She took a second to feel his hand resting on her arm before speaking.
“What?”
“We can walk away at any time. We don’t owe them anything. If anything they should be groveling at our feet.”
“Just promise me that no matter what Skinner tells us. You won’t go back to searching for something you can’t find. I can’t go through that again. I won’t go through that again.” Her lips pursed as they did when she was worried her words had been lost on him. She couldn’t tame the relentless explorer that was beneath his skin.
“What makes you think I would ever choose this over you? Have we not been at this very spot before? I won’t lose you to this or anything.”
She squeezed his had to reassure him that she would stand by his side despite what they were about to face and she knew that even if they were summoned to chase the unknown again she would follow him as she always had, without doubt and ready to give her life for him despite the circumstance.
Mulder turned and made his way to Skinner’s office. Scully followed close behind letting off the slightest sigh when she walked past the threshold into her former boss’s office. Much time had passed since either had entered this office yet everything was placed precisely where it had been years prior. The pens on his desks seemed as if they too hadn’t been moved. Skinner’s back was facing them as they made their way toward his leather chair. He slowly turned to greet them. His features were just as Scully had expected them to be, merely aged with the time that had passed.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Skinner sarcastically said while reaching his hand out to shake Mulder’s.
“To be honest neither did we.” Mulder countered Skinner’s sarcasm with his own.
“Not to be rude but can we skip the pleasantries and get to whatever it is you brought us here for.” Scully interrupted.
Just as Scully finished her sentence a voice came from the back entrance to the office.
“I don’t mean to intrude but…” The voice was familiar in its sultry tone and Scully recognized it with a pang in her chest.
“Monica?” Scully spoke the women’s name below a whisper and took a hard breathe in before turning to meet with the brunette’s staggering hazel eyes.
“Dana. It’s been some years.” Her lips parted to a smile.
“That it has. I...” Before she could finish her sentence Monica had brught her into an embrace. Scully was hesitant to return the hug but soon gave into her old friends arms. She would never admit it but she had missed Monica terribly. She missed how she reminded her of her sister and how she could always tell what was on her mind. Monica had found a way of understanding the puzzle that was Dana Scully. She understood that the pieces were jagged yet fit together with precision, her beauty was only surpassed by her intelligence.
“I’m guessing you are wondering why we called you here. Well I came across a case with some evidence that lead me to an old X-file; it was all pretty standard stuff until I realized that the substance found at the crime scene seemed familiar and had only been mentioned once before on a rather pertinent case.” Monica stopped giving way to silence.
“What is so important about this one substance, that you felt the need to call us in?” Scully questioned.
“We found magnetite.” Monica put great emphasis on the sentence.
“That is a very common metal why would that be of interest?” Mulder said.
“You’re not listening; it’s a form of magnetite that we found when…”
“Oh my God, Mulder” She took a breath to keep herself from sobbing. “William.”
“The sample that was found at the scene matched the blood sample that was taken at the hospital when William was injected by Jeffrey Spender with the same alloy.” Monica continued.
It was becoming potently clear why they had been summoned and Scully felt her throat begin to close and nausea meet her as the possibility of William’s death crept into her mind. She held onto a nearby chair to keep herself from losing her balance.
“He wasn’t, he isn’t?” Scully’s eyes held tears dangerously close to spilling over as her face became paler that it’s normal ivory. Mulder moved closer in an effort to comfort her. He too was feeling the effects of the possibility that his only child could be dead.
Monica placed her hand on Scully’s arm and slowly stroked it to assure her. “He’s only missing.” The statement was both a relief and a burden.
Scully whispered. “That offers little comfort Monica.”
“I know that this is what you have always feared, that you couldn’t protect him from the evil that looms in this world but we will find him.” Monica responded.
“I understand the personal and delicate nature of this case but because of the specifics, you are the most qualified to assist the investigation. I know that you are no longer a part of the Bureau and wish to remain so but the information you could provide us would be invaluable. For the duration of the case you would be given full agents privileges.” Skinner hesitated to speak further until he received a reaction.
Mulder took a moment to consider what had been laid in front of them. It was never a question of whether or not they would assist but to what degree; after all despite the years William was still their son but he worried the toll a full blown investigation would take on Scully. He knew that she could never be impartial when it came to her son. She had given up so much for him already. She had put his well being over her happiness and suffered the consequences of that decision every day.
“I will lead the investigation with assistance from Monica and a hand selected team that will include agents Doggett and Brinks. We won’t give up until we find him.” Skinner said.
Scully couldn’t even count the number of times she had said the same thing to some grief stricken family looking for answers. It did little to comfort her being on the receiving end. She had chosen adoption for her son out of necessity and fear. He was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to be free from the agony a life in the darkness promised. She looked at her hands as they began to shake. The tips of her fingers were numb from adrenaline and her heart refused to beat at a normal pace. Of all of the things she had seen, of all of the things she had done and been forced to overcome, this would bring out her greatest fears.
Ch 4
A powerful man sat in the corner of a darkened room. He was not powerful because of the respect he had earned or even for the money he possessed but rather because of the fear he could ensue. He was familiar with the deeds of the wicked and preformed them with glee. He had seen heads of state and leaders of nations crumble because of his actions. It didn’t matter from where he originated or the name by which he was called only that he was the one person you prayed never found the path with which you were taking.
At this ungodly hour, he waited for the assassin to appear at his door with excuses as to why he was unable to complete a simple task. The powerful man tightened the tie that accompanied his black suit and ran his aged fingers through his hair which had just begun to gray. He had spent years waiting for the opportunity that was lost to him that night at the hands of his assassin. He might have lost this battle but he would be the victor of the war. Muffled footsteps could be heard near the entrance to the office. As the door creaked open, the click of a pistol arming was unmistakable.
“Give me a reason I shouldn’t pull this trigger and cut my losses.” The powerful man’s voice gave way to a chilled echo.
“Sir, I followed the boy to the house. He never left the residence. All were accounted for when I entered the home. I didn’t even give a sound to startle the boy. I searched the entire property for him. “
“I have no time for your excuses; we have 72 hours until the boy is beyond our grasp. Find him before that time or the next bullet to pass through this barrel will greet your skull.”
The assassin exited as quickly as he had entered. Aggravated and short on options the powerful man made a call, a call that would ensure his success whether his assassin was victorious or not.
Ch5
She had hid it underneath her favorite sweater in the bottom drawer of her vanity. Only taking it out once and then banishing it to its sacred hiding place among the ashes of her past. It was black and white, very simple in nature with typing on the upper corners. It showed the outline of a growing fetus, a sonogram of her son. The day she had given him away, she banished all remembrances of him, every picture, blanket, toy and memento had been carefully concealed among the ordinary occupants of their home. Now eight years later she found herself longing for another chance to make another decision. Maybe she would have chosen the same knowing how the last years had played out but maybe just maybe she would have chosen to keep him near and take all of the risks she so greatly feared.
Here she was embarking on a journey she thought she had tucked away and would never have to face again, funny how the past so rarely stays the past. Feeling her muscles tighten in response to her nerves, her uncertainty rose with the passing minutes. Was she ready to be an agent again? Could she handle the chance that she might have to bury her own flesh and blood if they were too late? Scully banished all thoughts from her mind knowing full well that her success relied solely on her concentration. She strapped her gun to the holster along her side and picked up the jacket that would conceal it. She slowly buttoned her blouse reassuring herself that the task at hand wasn’t impossible. The tears that had begun to form along the brims of her eyes, went unnoticed. Footsteps startled her and caused her to violently wipe at the only traces of her state of mind. Mulder entered the room fidgeting with his tie, thankfully oblivious to Scully’s tears.
“I wore one of these everyday for 10 years you’d think I’d have gotten the hang of it. Skinner and I are on the first flight to Cheyenne to meet with the Wyoming field office. Doggett and Brinks are already there. Reyes will be doing preliminary background checks on the victims, the Van de Camps. I’ve already contacted child services for any records that might be useful. The coroner is expecting you at Quantico within the hour. Scully, are you listening?”
“What, yes.”
“ Look for any signs of implantation or signs of abnormal trauma on the corpses.”
“Mulder, this isn’t an X-file, don’t try to make it one. This is about William and God help you if you make it anything different. This isn’t another one of your crusades.”
Her response stung revealing her chilled demeanor. She left him before he could even comprehend what she had just thrown at him. The sound of her heels as they pounded the stairs to the street below echoed through the hallways to their apartment. The skin on her palms turned red in opposition to her nails slicing into them. Her heart throbbed violently into her throat. She was taking her uncertainties out on the one person who would understand. The ignited call to bury herself in work, tugged at her resolve. She would engage in the only cure she was familiar with.
Ch 6
Dust from the winding road filled the air as a squadron of Bureau issued vehicles made their way toward the Van de Camp residence. Gravel kicked up with the spinning wheels, hitting the cars rims. While Doggett tried to make a mental note about the small town adjacent to the residence. Agents swarmed the Wyoming home not wanting to leave a single thing overlooked. The house had already been swept once but Doggett insisted that he be able to comb through the house with his own team. He owed it to Scully to make damn sure that he didn’t fail. He had supported her through the tribulations of William’s birth and the many attempts made on his life. The death of a child was one experience he refused to have in common with her.
It had been almost ten years since he had seen her and he had missed her. But he never made an attempt to contact her; even after he discovered that she was practicing at Our Lady of Sorrows. He knew the hospital well. His ex-wife had given birth to their son at that very hospital. He had paced the blindingly white corridors like any dotting husband terrified of his new responsibilities as a father would have. The image of his ex-wife’s face gleaming with joy as she passed their son to his father for the first time would stay with him. The baby was lighter than he expected and far more fragile but when he met his son’s eyes, he knew that the boy had an inner strength that far preceded his fragile exterior. Doggett would hold that memory among his dearest. Doggett had allowed himself to slip away from the present moment for a brief second, only to be greeted by the reality that lay in front of him.
“Brinks dust for fingerprints throughout the scene, Gillett scan for blood splatter beyond the covered radius, Taylor gun powder residue. Everyone else you have your assignments. Let’s get to work. There is no such thing as too thorough. Report back as soon as you find something pertinent.” Doggett directed his squad with muscle.
Yellow crime scene tape adorned every entrance and caused unwanted attention from passing cars. The doors were already sealed from the last round of investigators. Besides the obvious markers one would have never know that this was the scene of a double homicide. There was no sign of a forced entry nor broken furniture or windows. In fact it was rather serene, the perfect example of a western home in a rural setting. Doggett ducked below the tape and took in the scene. The interior walls were paneled with wood and framed memories scattered the room. Some were place upon the mantle while others were hung on the walls and others still on the ends of side tables. The only sense of the modern world seemed to be a radio stationed on the farthest table. He saw a photo that must have been the most recent. Trees cluttered the landscape and smiling faces adorned the backdrop. There were many children in the photo but he instantly recognized William. His hair was chestnut with just the slightest tones of golden and red. His eyes were a whitened blue like his mothers and he had a slender nose set with a strong boxed jaw. Even though he was a far cry from the infant that Doggett remembered, there was no mistaking whose child he was.
Doggett reached into his left pocket and retrieved a thin plastic bag which read evidence in bold type across the top and placed the frame within it. He was grateful that Scully was performing the autopsy rather than trekking through the past of a son she never knew. An old wooden stair case lead to the bedrooms and the upper living area, Doggett side stepped past toys, trucks and magazines until he reached the entrance to the boy’s room. His bedding was blue with Star Wars characters on it. He took a second to chuckle to himself; the boy clearly had his father’s fascination with aliens. He seemed to also be quite the artist. The walls were covered with drawings and paintings. Most were of his farm and dog but a curious few had a strange symbol on various items in the sketches. Numerous circles intertwined some resulting in knots and other intersecting with the edges of sister circles. The boy had shaded the inside of the circles to create the perception of weaving. It looked almost Celtic. The curves of the image triggered a vision of a familiar place. Doggett had seen this symbol before but he couldn’t recall from where.
Meanwhile downstairs, Mulder entered the home with apprehensions about seeing the life his son had been living. He noticed the fishing poles in the corner and remembered the one time he had been fishing. He was about William’s age nine or ten and his father woke him at five so they could watch the sun rise and arrive at the lake before anyone else. They spent the day staring out on the pristine waters of Lake Lucille. They didn’t speak of his father’s work or of Fox’s school but rather enjoyed each other’s company for what seemed like the first time and troublingly it would be one of the few times either men would see eye to eye. The father-son team came home victorious with a cooler full of fish and the smell to prove it. Mulder hadn’t happened upon that memory since its occurrence yet now he wished he had a clearer recollection of it. He spotted photographs of William as a toddler and forced himself to avoid the surfacing feelings. Mulder followed Doggett’s path through the assorted toys to the boy’s room where he found the agent scouring the room for any indication of how the boy was taken.
“Agent Doggett, have you found anything?” Mulder asked.
Doggett craned his head around to see Mulder in the doorway. “I haven’t had the chance to get an update from my team but I am coming up short. There seems to be no indication of a struggle. William seems to have gone willingly or was incapacitated. He could have known the perpetrator. Maybe a family member, a teacher, or parent of a friend, but as far as I can tell the kidnapper took him just before his parents were killed.” Doggett instantly regretted referring to the Van de Camps as William’s parents. Mulder was stubborn as hell and a strong man but the sting of that statement was apparent across his face.
As Mulder began to speak, a young agent approached with a sullen face. She held a tattered drawing in her hands. It pictured a women screaming with many surrounding her. It was night and the crowd occupied a rundown building. The woman was lying on a metal frame bed with another comforting her.
“Sir, there are dozens of versions of this drawing tucked behind the dresser in the master bedroom. They were stuffed in an old shoe box. I’m not sure what they mean but the owners sure as hell didn’t want anyone to see them.” Agent Brinks said.
Agent Natasha Brinks was the best forensic investigator out of Quantico since Scully herself and was fond of the comparison. She had dedicated three years to field training and her expertise was unmistakable.
“Round up your team and let’s get some actual answers.” Mulder motioned to the agents that were feverishly working throughout the house. Doggett walked into the hall and raised his voice so all could hear him.
“Agents gather in the front and be ready to report your findings in five.”
Mulder took the drawing from the blonde and made his way downstairs. He was on the second step when he glanced out across the room for one last scan. From the corner of his eye, a white glimmer caught his attention from above the ceiling fan.
“Agent Brinks hand me a ladder.” Mulder’s brow matched the curious look on Brinks’ face. He positioned the ladder just below the fan and patted along the edges of each blade until his fingers found the edge of what had grabbed his attention. He untapped it from its convenient hiding place and dust clouded the air around him. As he brought his prize into view, he realized it was a white unmarked envelope. He quickly revealed its contents to be jumbles of consonant words and keyboard symbols. He studied it for a moment before stepping down from the ladder.
“It’s an encryption.” Agent Brink quickly inserted.
“Thank you for stating the obvious agent but the real trick is in knowing what it says.” Mulder gave her a sarcastic smirk. He was more than familiar with encryptions and decoding. He had done a little himself but this was beyond his amateur abilities. The rest of the agents had begun to gather on the porch when Mulder pushed through them and ran to his car.
“Mulder, where are you going? That’s evidence we need to book!” Doggett shouted in vain.
“Thanks for the festivities but I’m due in D. C.” He exited in complete Mulder fashion with a task at hand and a theory to go with it.
Doggett turned back to the team which had assembled. He was hoping that they had found more than a hand full of drawings but wishful thinking would only result in disappointment. Twelve agents stood around him, none of which had the courage to speak first until the naively brave Brinks chimed in.
“Sir, we haven’t come across any new evidence besides the drawing that wasn’t covered in the initial survey. I gathered up the pictures but the only real lead we found just walked off with Agent Mulder.”
Doggett rubbed his temples and forehead in an attempt to focus and calm himself. He instinctively grabbed for his phone and hit his first speed dial. The phone rang once before being promptly picked up.
“Reyes.”
“Monica, do you have anything?”
“I’m afraid I have more questions now than I did before. I finally got a hold of an agency that didn’t give me the run around but the documents they sent me only further shadowed what I was hoping to find. It seems that there was an anonymous party that connected William to the Van de Camps in the first place. I can’t seem to find any records to confirm any exchanges but there was definitely a third party involved. I looked over the Van de Camps financial records and there was no way they could have afforded to adopt. Their house has two mortgages and Mr. Van de Camp’s farming business barely pays the bills. Their credit cards are maxed out and there is a car repossession on fill. However there were monthly deposits made to their account from an untraceable source. I’m guessing whoever wanted William to be placed with this family was footing the bill and they sure went through a lot of trouble to keep their identity a secret. John, I don’t think this is a random tragedy. Whoever was after these people had an agenda.”
“Have you told Scully or Mulder any of this?”
“No, I didn’t want to worry them until I had to.”
“Good, I want you to keep all of this to yourself. Don’t even report to Skinner. The less people who know what you’ve found the better, at least until we know the full truth.”
“What about you John, have you found anything?”
“Mulder found an encrypted message but disappeared with it. That was the only new evidence we had besides a box of drawings that Brinks found.”
“Drawings?”
“They appear to be William’s. He depicted the same scene over and over again from different perspectives. Brinks found them stuffed in a box behind the parent’s dresser.”
“What do they show?”
“I’m not even quite sure. I have them in my possession and will bring them to headquarters but first I have a stop I need to make.”
“Alright John but be careful, I don’t think we even know what we are dealing with here.”
Follow to the next installment:celinejaneway.livejournal.com/6847.html#cutid1
Tree branches violently pounded against the window panes, responding to the rising storm. While clouds once white swirled with the black of a thunderous background, the winds rose dust into the air and uprooted newly planted crops. The shutters of a small gray home held on to their hinges by fragments of wood. Rain soaked the thirsty fields and washed the countryside. The temperature fell creating a chill, this was the muffler for a heinous crime.
A man clad in sin slowly covered his hands with the gloves that would shield his identity. Black, worn and sacred these were his favorite pair. Always in his pocket, they never left his side. These gloves carried his indiscretions. He walked up the cement stairs passing through an unlocked doorway making his way toward his sleeping victims. This had become his routine. Cold steel clung to his hip awaiting its one and only purpose. This man was no stranger to destruction, he reveled in it. Doing what he had been taught, he placed the edge of the pistol to her head. Who she was, was irrelevant but what her child was had brought about her untimely fate as well as the dreaming man’s beside her. Without blinking, he tapped on the trigger that was all it took to steal a life. Shots never rang out, never pierced silence nor did they cause alarm among the neighbors. Instead they pierced the skin of two innocents, leaving crimson trails of evidence that the rain would soon rinse from being. He made his way to the child’s room to claim the treasure he had been sent to secure.
The creek of the door did little to faze him. When he reached the child’s bed he was distraught to find nothing but pillows. He had seen the child enter the house earlier that evening. He knew that the boy had never left the premises yet there was no sign of him in sight. Had the boy heard him enter, heard him kill his parents or had someone interfered with his plans. Enraged he threw the nearest lamp against the wall, creating a shrill crash. He reached for his phone, dreading the wrath he would encounter on the other line.
“He’s not here.”
“You better damn well find him; he is the key to all of our plans. Your life depends on it.” The conversation ended with a click. The man’s voice on the other line had been harsh and far from pleasant. It was edged with a rasp and deepened when angered.
Suddenly a siren could be heard in the distance. Apparently the lamps crash has been enough to startle the neighbors. The killer made his way out of the bedroom window and out onto the roof. He jumped barely landing on his feet and ran into the drenched night.
Ch2
The streets bustled as they always had with strangers whose busy lives intersected for mere moments never to traverse again. Each day framed another precious second of consciousness wasted on trivial tasks. The quiet life had done little to intrigue Scully and quite frankly it stole more of her soul then relentless tragedy ever could. At least with tragedy, one was in the process of growth and overcoming an obstacle, moving toward an unreachable destination but complacency is the worst of existences. It steals the flame that lights your soul ablaze and slowly you forget what you were searching for.
“Do the three boxes left belong in the living room?” Scully asked.
“They are mostly clothes and some old baseball cards nothing that needs to be put out right away.” Mulder answered.
They had contemplated moving back to the city for some time, to escape the mundane and heal the wounds that had been left within its limits and now they occupied a two bedroom apartment in Alexandria. The furnishings were scattered and eclectic but just enough of each life they had lived to make it home. She often watched as Mulder would fall into a dream on the sofa or read till the early hours of the morning. He hadn’t lost the child’s gaze that would take over his face whenever he found a new article that caught his interest and he certainly hadn’t given up the hope that one day he would become more that himself and accomplish what he had set out to do 17 years earlier. He never could let himself give up; even when it meant holding on would be forever painful.
“I have a surgery scheduled for noon. I doubt I will be home before night fall.” Scully said
She has been given an attending position at Georgetown University Medical Center and jumped at the chance to leave the bureaucracy of Our Lady of Sorrows. On this particular Tuesday in what could only be described as the perfect fall day, Scully found herself staring as the leaves covered the sidewalks. Mulder was quietly humming to himself as he watched the ball game while she couldn’t ripe her eyes from the people that cluttered the park. Some had come with their children and others with their lovers. There wasn’t a lonely soul among them. The unexpected ring of the phone jolted her mind from its daydream long enough to make her way to the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Scully this is Madeline from Assistant Director Skinner’s office. Please hold for the Assistant Director.”
Scully’s face sank as she recalled the last time she had seem AD Skinner. She had nearly lost Mulder for what she could only hope was the last time. His unexpected call gave way to a flood of memories that she would have rather not relived. She saw Mulder lying in the snow, his blood staining the ground around him. He had been only moments from death. His eyelids twitching in pain and disorientation; she held his head in her arms praying that this wasn’t the time she buried him. Once again Scully was shaken from her own thoughts by a familiar voice.
“Scully, Scully are you there?”
“Sir, I wasn’t expecting your call.” She cleared her throat in an effort to banish the images that hindered her from concentrating.
“I apologize for the unexpected nature but I have something you are going to want to see. I wondered whether I should even contact you but Agent Reyes insisted.”
“Monica insisted, about what?”
“It affects you. It affects you and Mulder. It’s pertinent you meet me at headquarters a quarter past one this afternoon. I can explain it better in person.”
Scully heard the phone hang up on the other end before she had the chance to protest. She slowly turned to see the man she had come to base her life around and wondered for a second if ignoring Skinner’s request would save them future agony but she trusted in Monica’s judgment and was curious at what could have possibly given the FBI reason to seeker Mulder and her out.
“Mulder…”
He faced her with a smile she came to realize she couldn’t live without. How would she convince him to trust the very organization that had stolen everything from him? How would she convince him, or herself for that matter, that the FBI didn’t intend them harm after everything that had happened?
Ch3.
The soles of their shoes collided with the marble floor of the Hoover building’s entrance. For a decade these floors had been worn with traces of the lives they had lived. Agents that had only been teenagers and Quantico cadets when Special Agents Mulder and Scully graced these corridors now stared as the legends themselves briskly passed. The stares went unnoticed by Mulder as many social aspects of life did. The agents whispered of how ‘it couldn’t be them’ and ‘I thought they were dead’, while others that remembered them all too well prayed that the Bureau’s most unwanted would not be calling the J Edgar Hoover building home again.
Skinner’s door was only a few yards ahead, when Mulder took Scully’s forearm and lead her to an unoccupied corner. He took a moment to read her expression and gaze into her eyes. Their iced blue exteriors told him that she was reluctant to see what Skinner had deemed so important. He knew that she had seen so much evil at the hands of the men who claimed to be working to help her that he didn’t blame her reluctance. She took a second to feel his hand resting on her arm before speaking.
“What?”
“We can walk away at any time. We don’t owe them anything. If anything they should be groveling at our feet.”
“Just promise me that no matter what Skinner tells us. You won’t go back to searching for something you can’t find. I can’t go through that again. I won’t go through that again.” Her lips pursed as they did when she was worried her words had been lost on him. She couldn’t tame the relentless explorer that was beneath his skin.
“What makes you think I would ever choose this over you? Have we not been at this very spot before? I won’t lose you to this or anything.”
She squeezed his had to reassure him that she would stand by his side despite what they were about to face and she knew that even if they were summoned to chase the unknown again she would follow him as she always had, without doubt and ready to give her life for him despite the circumstance.
Mulder turned and made his way to Skinner’s office. Scully followed close behind letting off the slightest sigh when she walked past the threshold into her former boss’s office. Much time had passed since either had entered this office yet everything was placed precisely where it had been years prior. The pens on his desks seemed as if they too hadn’t been moved. Skinner’s back was facing them as they made their way toward his leather chair. He slowly turned to greet them. His features were just as Scully had expected them to be, merely aged with the time that had passed.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Skinner sarcastically said while reaching his hand out to shake Mulder’s.
“To be honest neither did we.” Mulder countered Skinner’s sarcasm with his own.
“Not to be rude but can we skip the pleasantries and get to whatever it is you brought us here for.” Scully interrupted.
Just as Scully finished her sentence a voice came from the back entrance to the office.
“I don’t mean to intrude but…” The voice was familiar in its sultry tone and Scully recognized it with a pang in her chest.
“Monica?” Scully spoke the women’s name below a whisper and took a hard breathe in before turning to meet with the brunette’s staggering hazel eyes.
“Dana. It’s been some years.” Her lips parted to a smile.
“That it has. I...” Before she could finish her sentence Monica had brught her into an embrace. Scully was hesitant to return the hug but soon gave into her old friends arms. She would never admit it but she had missed Monica terribly. She missed how she reminded her of her sister and how she could always tell what was on her mind. Monica had found a way of understanding the puzzle that was Dana Scully. She understood that the pieces were jagged yet fit together with precision, her beauty was only surpassed by her intelligence.
“I’m guessing you are wondering why we called you here. Well I came across a case with some evidence that lead me to an old X-file; it was all pretty standard stuff until I realized that the substance found at the crime scene seemed familiar and had only been mentioned once before on a rather pertinent case.” Monica stopped giving way to silence.
“What is so important about this one substance, that you felt the need to call us in?” Scully questioned.
“We found magnetite.” Monica put great emphasis on the sentence.
“That is a very common metal why would that be of interest?” Mulder said.
“You’re not listening; it’s a form of magnetite that we found when…”
“Oh my God, Mulder” She took a breath to keep herself from sobbing. “William.”
“The sample that was found at the scene matched the blood sample that was taken at the hospital when William was injected by Jeffrey Spender with the same alloy.” Monica continued.
It was becoming potently clear why they had been summoned and Scully felt her throat begin to close and nausea meet her as the possibility of William’s death crept into her mind. She held onto a nearby chair to keep herself from losing her balance.
“He wasn’t, he isn’t?” Scully’s eyes held tears dangerously close to spilling over as her face became paler that it’s normal ivory. Mulder moved closer in an effort to comfort her. He too was feeling the effects of the possibility that his only child could be dead.
Monica placed her hand on Scully’s arm and slowly stroked it to assure her. “He’s only missing.” The statement was both a relief and a burden.
Scully whispered. “That offers little comfort Monica.”
“I know that this is what you have always feared, that you couldn’t protect him from the evil that looms in this world but we will find him.” Monica responded.
“I understand the personal and delicate nature of this case but because of the specifics, you are the most qualified to assist the investigation. I know that you are no longer a part of the Bureau and wish to remain so but the information you could provide us would be invaluable. For the duration of the case you would be given full agents privileges.” Skinner hesitated to speak further until he received a reaction.
Mulder took a moment to consider what had been laid in front of them. It was never a question of whether or not they would assist but to what degree; after all despite the years William was still their son but he worried the toll a full blown investigation would take on Scully. He knew that she could never be impartial when it came to her son. She had given up so much for him already. She had put his well being over her happiness and suffered the consequences of that decision every day.
“I will lead the investigation with assistance from Monica and a hand selected team that will include agents Doggett and Brinks. We won’t give up until we find him.” Skinner said.
Scully couldn’t even count the number of times she had said the same thing to some grief stricken family looking for answers. It did little to comfort her being on the receiving end. She had chosen adoption for her son out of necessity and fear. He was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to be free from the agony a life in the darkness promised. She looked at her hands as they began to shake. The tips of her fingers were numb from adrenaline and her heart refused to beat at a normal pace. Of all of the things she had seen, of all of the things she had done and been forced to overcome, this would bring out her greatest fears.
Ch 4
A powerful man sat in the corner of a darkened room. He was not powerful because of the respect he had earned or even for the money he possessed but rather because of the fear he could ensue. He was familiar with the deeds of the wicked and preformed them with glee. He had seen heads of state and leaders of nations crumble because of his actions. It didn’t matter from where he originated or the name by which he was called only that he was the one person you prayed never found the path with which you were taking.
At this ungodly hour, he waited for the assassin to appear at his door with excuses as to why he was unable to complete a simple task. The powerful man tightened the tie that accompanied his black suit and ran his aged fingers through his hair which had just begun to gray. He had spent years waiting for the opportunity that was lost to him that night at the hands of his assassin. He might have lost this battle but he would be the victor of the war. Muffled footsteps could be heard near the entrance to the office. As the door creaked open, the click of a pistol arming was unmistakable.
“Give me a reason I shouldn’t pull this trigger and cut my losses.” The powerful man’s voice gave way to a chilled echo.
“Sir, I followed the boy to the house. He never left the residence. All were accounted for when I entered the home. I didn’t even give a sound to startle the boy. I searched the entire property for him. “
“I have no time for your excuses; we have 72 hours until the boy is beyond our grasp. Find him before that time or the next bullet to pass through this barrel will greet your skull.”
The assassin exited as quickly as he had entered. Aggravated and short on options the powerful man made a call, a call that would ensure his success whether his assassin was victorious or not.
Ch5
She had hid it underneath her favorite sweater in the bottom drawer of her vanity. Only taking it out once and then banishing it to its sacred hiding place among the ashes of her past. It was black and white, very simple in nature with typing on the upper corners. It showed the outline of a growing fetus, a sonogram of her son. The day she had given him away, she banished all remembrances of him, every picture, blanket, toy and memento had been carefully concealed among the ordinary occupants of their home. Now eight years later she found herself longing for another chance to make another decision. Maybe she would have chosen the same knowing how the last years had played out but maybe just maybe she would have chosen to keep him near and take all of the risks she so greatly feared.
Here she was embarking on a journey she thought she had tucked away and would never have to face again, funny how the past so rarely stays the past. Feeling her muscles tighten in response to her nerves, her uncertainty rose with the passing minutes. Was she ready to be an agent again? Could she handle the chance that she might have to bury her own flesh and blood if they were too late? Scully banished all thoughts from her mind knowing full well that her success relied solely on her concentration. She strapped her gun to the holster along her side and picked up the jacket that would conceal it. She slowly buttoned her blouse reassuring herself that the task at hand wasn’t impossible. The tears that had begun to form along the brims of her eyes, went unnoticed. Footsteps startled her and caused her to violently wipe at the only traces of her state of mind. Mulder entered the room fidgeting with his tie, thankfully oblivious to Scully’s tears.
“I wore one of these everyday for 10 years you’d think I’d have gotten the hang of it. Skinner and I are on the first flight to Cheyenne to meet with the Wyoming field office. Doggett and Brinks are already there. Reyes will be doing preliminary background checks on the victims, the Van de Camps. I’ve already contacted child services for any records that might be useful. The coroner is expecting you at Quantico within the hour. Scully, are you listening?”
“What, yes.”
“ Look for any signs of implantation or signs of abnormal trauma on the corpses.”
“Mulder, this isn’t an X-file, don’t try to make it one. This is about William and God help you if you make it anything different. This isn’t another one of your crusades.”
Her response stung revealing her chilled demeanor. She left him before he could even comprehend what she had just thrown at him. The sound of her heels as they pounded the stairs to the street below echoed through the hallways to their apartment. The skin on her palms turned red in opposition to her nails slicing into them. Her heart throbbed violently into her throat. She was taking her uncertainties out on the one person who would understand. The ignited call to bury herself in work, tugged at her resolve. She would engage in the only cure she was familiar with.
Ch 6
Dust from the winding road filled the air as a squadron of Bureau issued vehicles made their way toward the Van de Camp residence. Gravel kicked up with the spinning wheels, hitting the cars rims. While Doggett tried to make a mental note about the small town adjacent to the residence. Agents swarmed the Wyoming home not wanting to leave a single thing overlooked. The house had already been swept once but Doggett insisted that he be able to comb through the house with his own team. He owed it to Scully to make damn sure that he didn’t fail. He had supported her through the tribulations of William’s birth and the many attempts made on his life. The death of a child was one experience he refused to have in common with her.
It had been almost ten years since he had seen her and he had missed her. But he never made an attempt to contact her; even after he discovered that she was practicing at Our Lady of Sorrows. He knew the hospital well. His ex-wife had given birth to their son at that very hospital. He had paced the blindingly white corridors like any dotting husband terrified of his new responsibilities as a father would have. The image of his ex-wife’s face gleaming with joy as she passed their son to his father for the first time would stay with him. The baby was lighter than he expected and far more fragile but when he met his son’s eyes, he knew that the boy had an inner strength that far preceded his fragile exterior. Doggett would hold that memory among his dearest. Doggett had allowed himself to slip away from the present moment for a brief second, only to be greeted by the reality that lay in front of him.
“Brinks dust for fingerprints throughout the scene, Gillett scan for blood splatter beyond the covered radius, Taylor gun powder residue. Everyone else you have your assignments. Let’s get to work. There is no such thing as too thorough. Report back as soon as you find something pertinent.” Doggett directed his squad with muscle.
Yellow crime scene tape adorned every entrance and caused unwanted attention from passing cars. The doors were already sealed from the last round of investigators. Besides the obvious markers one would have never know that this was the scene of a double homicide. There was no sign of a forced entry nor broken furniture or windows. In fact it was rather serene, the perfect example of a western home in a rural setting. Doggett ducked below the tape and took in the scene. The interior walls were paneled with wood and framed memories scattered the room. Some were place upon the mantle while others were hung on the walls and others still on the ends of side tables. The only sense of the modern world seemed to be a radio stationed on the farthest table. He saw a photo that must have been the most recent. Trees cluttered the landscape and smiling faces adorned the backdrop. There were many children in the photo but he instantly recognized William. His hair was chestnut with just the slightest tones of golden and red. His eyes were a whitened blue like his mothers and he had a slender nose set with a strong boxed jaw. Even though he was a far cry from the infant that Doggett remembered, there was no mistaking whose child he was.
Doggett reached into his left pocket and retrieved a thin plastic bag which read evidence in bold type across the top and placed the frame within it. He was grateful that Scully was performing the autopsy rather than trekking through the past of a son she never knew. An old wooden stair case lead to the bedrooms and the upper living area, Doggett side stepped past toys, trucks and magazines until he reached the entrance to the boy’s room. His bedding was blue with Star Wars characters on it. He took a second to chuckle to himself; the boy clearly had his father’s fascination with aliens. He seemed to also be quite the artist. The walls were covered with drawings and paintings. Most were of his farm and dog but a curious few had a strange symbol on various items in the sketches. Numerous circles intertwined some resulting in knots and other intersecting with the edges of sister circles. The boy had shaded the inside of the circles to create the perception of weaving. It looked almost Celtic. The curves of the image triggered a vision of a familiar place. Doggett had seen this symbol before but he couldn’t recall from where.
Meanwhile downstairs, Mulder entered the home with apprehensions about seeing the life his son had been living. He noticed the fishing poles in the corner and remembered the one time he had been fishing. He was about William’s age nine or ten and his father woke him at five so they could watch the sun rise and arrive at the lake before anyone else. They spent the day staring out on the pristine waters of Lake Lucille. They didn’t speak of his father’s work or of Fox’s school but rather enjoyed each other’s company for what seemed like the first time and troublingly it would be one of the few times either men would see eye to eye. The father-son team came home victorious with a cooler full of fish and the smell to prove it. Mulder hadn’t happened upon that memory since its occurrence yet now he wished he had a clearer recollection of it. He spotted photographs of William as a toddler and forced himself to avoid the surfacing feelings. Mulder followed Doggett’s path through the assorted toys to the boy’s room where he found the agent scouring the room for any indication of how the boy was taken.
“Agent Doggett, have you found anything?” Mulder asked.
Doggett craned his head around to see Mulder in the doorway. “I haven’t had the chance to get an update from my team but I am coming up short. There seems to be no indication of a struggle. William seems to have gone willingly or was incapacitated. He could have known the perpetrator. Maybe a family member, a teacher, or parent of a friend, but as far as I can tell the kidnapper took him just before his parents were killed.” Doggett instantly regretted referring to the Van de Camps as William’s parents. Mulder was stubborn as hell and a strong man but the sting of that statement was apparent across his face.
As Mulder began to speak, a young agent approached with a sullen face. She held a tattered drawing in her hands. It pictured a women screaming with many surrounding her. It was night and the crowd occupied a rundown building. The woman was lying on a metal frame bed with another comforting her.
“Sir, there are dozens of versions of this drawing tucked behind the dresser in the master bedroom. They were stuffed in an old shoe box. I’m not sure what they mean but the owners sure as hell didn’t want anyone to see them.” Agent Brinks said.
Agent Natasha Brinks was the best forensic investigator out of Quantico since Scully herself and was fond of the comparison. She had dedicated three years to field training and her expertise was unmistakable.
“Round up your team and let’s get some actual answers.” Mulder motioned to the agents that were feverishly working throughout the house. Doggett walked into the hall and raised his voice so all could hear him.
“Agents gather in the front and be ready to report your findings in five.”
Mulder took the drawing from the blonde and made his way downstairs. He was on the second step when he glanced out across the room for one last scan. From the corner of his eye, a white glimmer caught his attention from above the ceiling fan.
“Agent Brinks hand me a ladder.” Mulder’s brow matched the curious look on Brinks’ face. He positioned the ladder just below the fan and patted along the edges of each blade until his fingers found the edge of what had grabbed his attention. He untapped it from its convenient hiding place and dust clouded the air around him. As he brought his prize into view, he realized it was a white unmarked envelope. He quickly revealed its contents to be jumbles of consonant words and keyboard symbols. He studied it for a moment before stepping down from the ladder.
“It’s an encryption.” Agent Brink quickly inserted.
“Thank you for stating the obvious agent but the real trick is in knowing what it says.” Mulder gave her a sarcastic smirk. He was more than familiar with encryptions and decoding. He had done a little himself but this was beyond his amateur abilities. The rest of the agents had begun to gather on the porch when Mulder pushed through them and ran to his car.
“Mulder, where are you going? That’s evidence we need to book!” Doggett shouted in vain.
“Thanks for the festivities but I’m due in D. C.” He exited in complete Mulder fashion with a task at hand and a theory to go with it.
Doggett turned back to the team which had assembled. He was hoping that they had found more than a hand full of drawings but wishful thinking would only result in disappointment. Twelve agents stood around him, none of which had the courage to speak first until the naively brave Brinks chimed in.
“Sir, we haven’t come across any new evidence besides the drawing that wasn’t covered in the initial survey. I gathered up the pictures but the only real lead we found just walked off with Agent Mulder.”
Doggett rubbed his temples and forehead in an attempt to focus and calm himself. He instinctively grabbed for his phone and hit his first speed dial. The phone rang once before being promptly picked up.
“Reyes.”
“Monica, do you have anything?”
“I’m afraid I have more questions now than I did before. I finally got a hold of an agency that didn’t give me the run around but the documents they sent me only further shadowed what I was hoping to find. It seems that there was an anonymous party that connected William to the Van de Camps in the first place. I can’t seem to find any records to confirm any exchanges but there was definitely a third party involved. I looked over the Van de Camps financial records and there was no way they could have afforded to adopt. Their house has two mortgages and Mr. Van de Camp’s farming business barely pays the bills. Their credit cards are maxed out and there is a car repossession on fill. However there were monthly deposits made to their account from an untraceable source. I’m guessing whoever wanted William to be placed with this family was footing the bill and they sure went through a lot of trouble to keep their identity a secret. John, I don’t think this is a random tragedy. Whoever was after these people had an agenda.”
“Have you told Scully or Mulder any of this?”
“No, I didn’t want to worry them until I had to.”
“Good, I want you to keep all of this to yourself. Don’t even report to Skinner. The less people who know what you’ve found the better, at least until we know the full truth.”
“What about you John, have you found anything?”
“Mulder found an encrypted message but disappeared with it. That was the only new evidence we had besides a box of drawings that Brinks found.”
“Drawings?”
“They appear to be William’s. He depicted the same scene over and over again from different perspectives. Brinks found them stuffed in a box behind the parent’s dresser.”
“What do they show?”
“I’m not even quite sure. I have them in my possession and will bring them to headquarters but first I have a stop I need to make.”
“Alright John but be careful, I don’t think we even know what we are dealing with here.”
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