From: raenright@aol.com (RaEnright) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: First Blood: The Chase 1/2/3 Date: 4 Aug 1995 10:49:11 -0400 Hi all! This is the second 'book' in a trilogy of stories, entitled First Blood. Each installment is in three parts. Part one, The Hunter, has already been posted, and part three, The Kill, is due out in a few weeks, if I ever get around to finishing it. Basically they deal with Mulder's experiences before joining the bureau, while he's still in college. Part one details how he came back to America to identify the remains of an ex-girlfriend after she was brutally murdered. He meets four agents, Eduards, Krevsky, Linfield, and Halpern. Agent Cooley, the team profilist, appears for the first time in this one, though he's mentioned in part one. Through Mulder's profiling skills they manage to catch the man before he can kill his last victim. This is a sort of weird portrayal of Mulder, he's a lot shyer and not so sarcastic(I figure years of being called crazy did *that* to him.) This can stand on it's own if you don't mind being a tad confused at first, and it is a self-contained story, it DOES NOT leave you hanging at the end of part 3(not *much*, anyway.). There is no mention of Dana Scully in this story. Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, and Phoebe Greene (Short, short cameo) are copyright The Man, The Station, The Company, no copyright infringement intended, etc...Eduards, Krevsky, Linfield, Halpern, Cooley, Morrow, and Lewis are out of my head and belong to me, muchas gracias, tu viajas con extranjeros? This is in part dedicated to Keri for re-introducing me to one of my favorite authors of all time. Enjoy! First Blood, book 2 The Chase, part 1 August 2, 1984 Oxford University Oxford, England Lewis Burbridge sat on his bed and watched his roommate pack. "Now, let me get this straight." He was clearly confused. "You're going home." "That's right." "On a holiday." "That's right." Mulder scratched absently at his bandaged wrist, the result of trying to cook breakfast last week. "Voluntarily." "For the first time in my life, Lewis, yes." he zipped the dufflebag shut with finality. "And what brought about this change of heart?" "Two words, Lewis: Federal Agents." "Won't Phoebe be angry?" "I guess so. I don't care." He checked his pocket for the plane ticket. "She's been around all summer and I want to take two weeks off. She'll live." "But will you, when she hears about it?" "Are you going to drive me to the airport or just sit there and find flaws in my reasoning?" __________________________ August 3 Washington Airport Washington, DC "Kid! Kid!" It took Mulder's tired mind a few minutes to realize those shouts were directed at him. A group of sober suited men stood in a corner of the lobby and yelled. He waved, and the noise lessened. He managed to pick out which was Eduards and Linfield behind the identical suits and sunglasses that were almost screaming FBI to the rest of the airport. The others remained unidentified until he crossed the floor to greet them. "Hey kid!" "How's life?" "Oxford treatin' you okay? What's with the wrist?" He responded as best he could to the questions that hit him from all sides as the knot of men enveloped him. Linfield whacked him, hard, on the back. "Good to see you, Kid." "He has a name, Linfield!" Krevsky scowled. "How are you, Mulder?" "I'm fine, thanks." He smiled at them. "Stupidity notwithstanding. I tried to fry eggs on a heat plate. It didn't work too well." He held up his wrist. "Come on, come on." Eduards started herding the group towards the door. "We can talk in the car, but Morrow only gave us an hour." Two Buicks were waiting outside in the parking lot; they were a nice change from buzzing around in Lewis's little VW Bug, Mulder thought. He climbed into the front, noting Linfield and Krevsky had already taken the back. Eduards sat in beside him and started the car. "So, kid, you up for more G-man duties?" Linfield munched on a SuperPretzle and grinned. Krevsky punched him. "More?" Mulder looked back incredulously. "Sure." Linfield ignored Krevsky's failed attempts to prevent him from eating in the car. "The only reason Morrow gave us the time, not to mention the cars, to come and get you, was he wants you recruited. You up for some action?" "Sounds good to me." He smiled. His last foray into Federal affairs had landed him the respect of four agents, and, surprisingly, he had enjoyed the challenge, however subdued he was over the loss of his friend. Dani had died a wrongful death, and he had a hard choice to make. "We brought Cooley along with us this time, too, maybe he can give you a few pointers." Eduards hung a left onto the freeway. "What a pain in the butt." Krevsky muttered. "Take my advice, Mulder, and don't let him get to you. Self-important-" "Enough, Krev." Eduards cut him off. "None of us like him much." He explained to Mulder. "But he's a good profilist, and we can tolerate him for that." "I thought the Kid was better." Linfield said in a stage whisper to Krevsky, who nodded. Mulder looked down and toyed with the strap on his dufflebag, embarrassed. ______________________________ "I forgot to mention this part." Eduards pulled up to the J. Edgar Hoover building. "Morrow wants to see you before he lets you go running around with us." "Be warned, if he's not in a good mood all hell'll break loose." Linfield said in his ear. They were all shown into the office by Morrow's secretary, who assured Eduards that Morrow was indeed in a good mood, he'd be in in a minute. Mulder stared around him. This looked just like the offices of the professors at Oxford, minus the books and term papers. There was a harrumph from the door and they turned in unison. Assistant Director Morrow was a huge man, easily six five, heavyset, with a nose that Linfield often said could cut cheese and darting, intelligent eyes. He motioned for them to sit, and Mulder to remain standing. Mulder straightened his stance as the man drew closer, and looked him right in the eye like his father taught him. "So, you're the smartass who profiled for the Ammer case, is that right?" He began to pace around the young man, speaking softly. "Yessir." "And you have no bureau experience?" "Nosir." Linfield smirked in the background and Krevsky mentally warned Mulder to brace for impact. "And what, under the sun or in Satan's fire made *YOU* think *YOU* were *BUREAU_ MATERIAL?* That you could just *WALTZ* in here and expect *ACCLAIM?*" Morrow began shouting, his face inches from Mulder's ear. His eyes darted nervously, trying to see if he was intending to attack him. "The fact that I have already assisted in the closing of one case and the consequent survival of one Anna Martinez, the hostage mister Ammer took as we attempted to apprehend him, sir! I have never asked for credit on that case or acclaim, sir!" Mulder's voice turned slightly hysterical at the end. "And *WHAT* made you offer your services in the *FIRST PLACE?*" "The fact that the team profilist, Agent Cooley, was ill and that I had some psychology training sir!" his voice cracked. Eduards smiled approvingly. "YOU CALL THAT A REASON?" Morrow roared. Mulder gave the man a sudden mild look, surprising himself. "Yes sir, I do." Morrow was quiet for a minute before he grinned at Eduards and nodded. "Very good, Mr. Mulder." he moved back to stand in front of him, his voice returning to normal. "You pass." "I...pass?" "Report to personnel for your temporary ID and then get your ass in gear. For the next two weeks you are officially a federal agent." He handed Mulder a small yellow slip. Eduards stood and took his elbow, guiding the bewildered man out of the office. "That had style, Kid." Halpern said as they moved down the corridor. "Nice going." "What the hell was that all about?" he asked, examining the sheet carefully. "Morrow had to make sure you had some guts. He doesn't like his agents sniveling on the floor all the time." Krevsky said, with a meaningful glance in Cooley's direction. "He just tested you for stamina." Eduards grinned. "That was great. You passed with flying colors. Takes guts to even look that bastard in the eye." "Oh." The next half hour was spent waiting in lines, filling out forms, and standing still for ID photos. Mulder was exhausted. "Do you have to fill out this amount of paperwork all the time?" "No, today's a light day." Cooley said thoughtfully. _________________________________ "Okay Kid, here's the deal." Eduards tossed a folder at him. "We've got another serialist, but this time he doesn't kill his victims, he just kidnaps and scares the hell out of them." "Scares the hell outta me, too." Linfield tipped back in his chair. "He takes these people, as far as we can tell, he chloroforms them, god only knows why since I didn't think anyone even made the stuff anymore, and then he tortures them, psychologically." "Should be fun getting into this one." Halpern commented dryly. "We just got it this morning and we're still going over the evidence." "I think we'd better chart." Eduards walked over to a whiteboard in the corner and began to write. "First victim, White female, age thirty-four." "Second victim, white male, age twenty." Linfield read from the sheet. "Third victim, Hispanic female, age forty. Fourth victim, white female, age ten." Halpern winced at the age. "He's not even following a basic gender/age/race pattern." "Which makes him all the more dangerous." Eduards continued to write. "Fifth victim, black male, age twenty six." "And that's all she wrote. For now." Krevsky shoved some papers into a box and dumped it off his desk. "He's working in the midwest." "Oh boy, Kid, you should have saved yourself the trouble and just bought a ticket straight there. Orders from above are sending us straight into the beloved heartland. Lincoln, Nebraska. In the pithy words of the agents already stationed there, and I quote-'God's Country'-and I unquote." Halpern read over Linfield's shoulder. "But we have until tomorrow to start work on him. Let's go." "Go?" "We're going to spend the rest of the day somewhere where Morrow or his snitch Skinner can't find us." Linfield jerked his thumb downwards. "The basement." _________________________ "Wow." Mulder's statement, though brief, said it all. The basement room Eduards had led them to was dimly lit, the walls bare except for a few movie posters. He thought he recognized some from Star Wars. "The sanctum sanitarium. It used to be the photocopy room. Now it's our hiding place when Morrow goes on the warpath. Whaddaya think?" Eduards bowed deeply and stood in the middle of the room. As Mulder stepped inside, he got a sudden feeling of...rightness. *Weird.* He shrugged it off and tried to adjust his eyes to the lack of light. A huge battleship model sat in the corner, half of it's hull missing. Krevsky touched the mast lovingly. "We come down here to work quietly. It helps the thought process." "Did you build that?" Mulder watched with interest. "Sure did. And that, and that." He pointed to a few other models around the room. Mulder recognized a B-52, the flying fortress, and a 1929 Ford Model A. "Sit down, sit." Linfield gestured to a scroungy looking chair in the corner. Eduards dropped onto the couch. "So we've got, what, Cooley?" The short, rather fat man paced the floor. Eduards rolled his eyes. "The killer is male, white, between twenty and forty, in good physical condition, for starters." "That helps. Do you know how many athletic, white males between twenty and forty there are in Nebraska?" "Now, Halpern, don't be prejudiced. Just because it's the midwest it doesn't mean everyone wears ten gallon hats and chews tobacco all the time." Cooley lectured. "Yes, dad." "Cut him some slack, Hal?"Eduards asked. Mulder was examining a cabinet in one corner. He took a bag of sunflower seeds out of his pocket and crunched on one thoughtfully. "Yuck." Krevsky yanked on a small string and dabbed some glue on it. "How do you eat those things, Mulder?" "What-what's this?" he pointed to the metal cabinet. "Those are what we lovingly dub the Looney Files. We read them for kicks sometimes." "The Looney Files?" "Technically, the X-Files. It's a dumping ground for stories nobody else wants to read or investigate because it's too weird. Kind of like tabloid stuff." Linfield explained. "Okay, children, let's work on the case, for at least a few minutes?" Eduards held out a tape. "Recording of the interviews with the victims. Transcription's in the file." he laid his head against the armrest and tossed the tape to Halpern, who popped it into a player. A ragged voice filled the room. <"Oh god, the rats...water, the-water, give me water, please-" there were muffled scraping sounds as someone brought her water. "Nonono, I want water, Jesus Christ, it's coming at me, it's going to-nooo...the blade, I can't see it, if I jump Oh god there's nothing there-"> Linfield cut in, reading from the file. "Apparently, they've all had to be sedated and hospitalized. All sorts of weird shit found in their blood." The voice changed to a rougher, deeper tone as the first interview ended. <"Can you hear me?"> <"Yeah...keep it off me, keep it away from me-"> <"Keep what away from you?"> <"The disease, the disease, blood on my hands, on my arms, I can't control it, it hurts, ohmygod, get the blood off me-"> "Man had small pinpricks all over his body, like someone spiked a rolling pin and massaged him with it." Cooley gagged, but continued scribbling furiously. <"What does he say to you?"> <"He say, he say he going to kill me, he call for someone, he say he no want to run no more-"> A thick accent made her words hard to understand. Mulder shut his eyes and concentrated. Cooley looked at him as if he were crazy, and continued to take notes. <"He says he doesn't want to run? Does he say what he's running from?"> <"He say he no run, he say he going to kill me, make him leave it so dark madre de dios ave maria purisima!"> "She's the most coherent one so far." Halpern observed. <"Okay, just relax and tell us what you saw."> <"Huge...ohmygod it's huge, it's outside the window, don't let it in."> <"Huge and black-yellow and red eyes, horrible red eyes-"> Linfield reached over and switched off the tape. "So." He said calmly, noting the confused faces around him. "Anyone up for a little LSD trip while we take this one on?" "Victim four, the last one we just heard, had large amounts of the drug still in his blood when he was recorded." Krevsky glanced at the report and went back to his model. "So he could have still been high. How'd you do that, Linfield?" "Lucky guess." He shrugged. "Your take, Kid?" "Sounds as if he's trying to convey some sort of message. That part, the section about him not wanting to run-could he be an escaped convict? Some sort of fugitive?" "I disagree." Cooley tapped his notepad. "I think he's running from something else." "Any idea what?" Eduards winked at Mulder. "I couldn't begin to say, at this point. There's no commonality about the methods of torture, no thread...yet." "Wunderkind, do your thing." Linfield scowled. "If Cooley can't, and Kid can't, we're in DEEP trouble." "We have no evidence." Cooley looked to Mulder for support. He was absorbed by the file cabinet again, absently crunching his seeds. "Yo...Kid! Wake up!" Linfield tossed a wad of paper at him. "What could possibly be so interesting about those files? We get all the weird ones anyway. You want looney, he's the men." He pointed to the composite sketches in the file. Three different versions of the same face stared at him. "We have an APB out but if this is the best they can do it could be anyone. Looks like we're tripping on out to Lincoln." "Great." Krevsky muttered. "We go hunting for the invisible man with a psychosis that may not exist. My idea of a good time." End pt 1 =========================================================================== From: raenright@aol.com (RaEnright) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: First Blood: The Chase 2/2/3 Date: 4 Aug 1995 10:49:30 -0400 Hello all, welcome to my weird world. I'm tired of legal trash, let's get right to it, shall we? First Blood, book 2 The Chase, part 2 August 4 USAir flight 107 Bound for Lincoln, Nebraska "Ugh." Linfield snorted in disgust. "Even *I* can't eat this stuff." "I don't see why not." Eduards said from across the aisle. "You eat everything else." "And still stay in tiptop form." Linfield said proudly. "It's the grease. Melts excess fat right off the body." "Whatever." Halpern rolled his eyes and crunched on his biscuit. Mulder reflected that they looked like some sort of business-suit fraternity. He felt a little out of place. He didn't even own more than one suit, and he certainly hadn't packed it. He had to be content with jeans and an Oxford sweatshirt. At least Eduards had found a cool pair of Ray-Bans for him to wear. "Twenty minutes to touchdown." Linfield picked at his lunch again. Krevsky snored and tilted his head the other way, ending up with his forehead pressed against the plastic of the window. Mulder picked at his own food, his bandage getting covered in gravy. "Eat up, Kid, that's good solid plastic and Styrofoam." Linfield gestured with his fork. "Thanks, I forgot I hadn't had my daily serving." He responded dryly, making Halpern choke into his soda cup. ________________________ 1 pm Lincoln's Mercy Hospital Lincoln "You can try, for all the good it'll do you." The nurse squinted at the five suited men and some kid in jeans. "He with you?" "He's in training." Eduards shot a wry look at Mulder. "Yes, we'd like to talk to her. And...the other victims are being held here also, is that right?" "We've got them in a ward together. Separate rooms." The nurse showed them to the hallway. "Third door on you left. Her medical records-" "We have them, thanks." Halpern held up the folder. "Anything new come out so far?" "The little girl's finally been able to give a statement. I'll make sure you get a copy." She nodded curtly and walked off. "Yeesh, a ten-year old girl. That takes cold blood." "Yeah, it does." Mulder agreed distantly, remembering another little girl he'd known. The third room was occupied by a blonde woman, IV attached at the wrist. She was conscious, staring at the ceiling. Eduards motioned for Halpern and Linfield to wait outside. "I don't want to scare her. Kid, you go first." Mulder opened the door slowly, staring at the woman on the bed. "Ma'am?" Eduards followed him. "Ma'am, we're from the FBI. We're here to help you." "Water-" "Ma'am, we need to talk to you." Krevsky held out a glass of water from the tray. She ignored it. "He gave me food...no water..." "Krev, get a tape recorder in here." "M'on it." Krevsky pushed past Cooley and out into the hall. "Ma'am, what did he do?" "S'dark, can't see anything-he fed me, so hungry, but no water-" "What did he feed you?" Cooley asked. Eduards stared. "Meat...some sorta meat...hot meat, pepper...m'tired, water-" "You're too late, Krev." Eduards said as Krevsky rushed back in, tape in hand. "She's out." _______________________ "Well, *that* was productive." Linfield drawled as they moved to the final room. "An hour of incoherent mutterings. You sure Morrow didn't give this to us just to annoy us?" "I don't see why he would. We found Kid for him, didn't we?" Halpern leaned against the wall. "We also took in an unauthorized man, allowed him access to our files, not to mention our firearms, and fed him off the FBI tab." Eduards smiled to take the sting out of his words. Mulder looked in the window of the final room and winced slightly. This was going to be fun. "Problem, Kid?" "no...no." Mulder said, more to himself. "I'm fine." _______________________ 3:30 pm Travelite Inn Near Lincoln's Mercy Hospital "So we have factors, now, do we?" "Subjects all refer to being kept in total darkness; subjects are fed and kept alive, excepting the case of subject one, where no water was supplied, subject was returned, no prints, no nothing, to her home, in a severe state of dehydration. All subjects were abducted off the street, apparently, and then returned several days later to their homes, presumably found through identification the people carried, all subjects were incoherent, yadda yadda yadda...." Eduards took off his tie. "Cooley?" "Definitely a sadist." Cooley looked a little green. "Kid, your thoughts?" "Well, he's following his own little pattern, but until we know what it is..." Mulder shrugged. "And the running...it's throwing him off. Since we don't know where he takes them, we can't see if he's actually *running*, or if it's some sort of metaphor." He rubbed is chin and looked at Cooley. "What about-" "The houses." They both said at the same time. Cooley looked around for a map, while Mulder reached for the papers on the table. Eduards and Linfield exchanged confused glances. "Here." Cooley spread the map on the table. "Where's the first?" "1115 Canley." "Got it." "Apartment 25, Kent street, north section." "Next." Halpern, catching on, leaned over Mulder's shoulder. "Is there a pattern?" "Not yet. Keep going, Kid." Cooley responded, marker poised. They mapped all five locations, but it jumped all over the city, east side to downtown, slums to suburbs. "No match." Cooley sat back. Mulder leaned forward again, tracing streetlines with his hand. "No pattern." "Shit." Eduards rolled his sleeves up. "You're saying this could be anyone, anywhere, no pattern, and we're supposed to *catch him*?" "If he didn't want us to chase him, even subconsciously, he would have killed his victims. He would have tortured them to death." Mulder said thickly. "How d'you figure?" "I...I'm not sure. But if I were him...that's what I'd think about doing." "That scares me, Kid." "Not half as much as it scares me." ____________________________ "You eat like a pig, Linfield." "I wouldn't talk, Halpern." "Pass the ketchup?" "How much salt do you *need*?" "More than that, I can tell you." Five men sat at the hotel table, which was littered with hamburger wrappers, French fries, cups of soda, and condiment wrappers. The Kid sat nearby on the couch. "Hey, you doing okay?" Linfield looked at him, concerned. "Have some dinner, Kid." He tossed a still-wrapped hamburger at him. He thanked him and unwrapped it. "Something bothering you?" Eduards asked. "Just this case."The Kid smiled sadly. "I don't want to give up. Either that or my mind won't let me." "Curse of the profilist." Cooley observed. "The first time you climb into another man's head and look around. It can be frightening." "I hate to interrupt this Kodak moment, but would you mind telling me if you can see anything *useful* as long as you're in someone else's head?" Linfield waved a fry in front of Cooley's face. "There's got to be something triggering it." The Kid muttered. "Something that makes him say, this is the person I take." "Schizophrenia?" Cooley offered. The Kid nodded. "Could be." "Does that scare you as much as it does me?" Halpern whispered to Eduards, who nodded. The Kid stood and ran a hand through his hair. "We...had a case like this in one of my classes. The woman would find people, homeless people, off the street, and care for them. Then...she'd kill them." "We've handled cases like that." "The professors said it was the mothering instinct gone wrong." He thought for a minute. "So what is it about these people that makes this man decide that they're the one?" "Maybe we'd best go back to the hospital." Eduards said quietly. They couldn't see the victims that night; after being told to wait in the cafeteria for an hour, and then dealing with the 'demoniacally possessed', nurse Bieyr, as Krevsky dubbed her, they gave up in disgust. Ignoring Halpern's helpful suggestion that they shoot her, they climbed back into the cars and drove back to the motel in defeat. ___________________________ 2 am August 5 Travelite Inn Linfield awoke to the muffled sound of crying. *What the hell?* He looked over to the couch, where the cries were apparently coming from. The Kid was tangled in the blanket, and something was most definitely wrong. "Hey Kid! Hey Kid!" he whispered, not wanting to wake Krevsky, asleep in the next bed. No response. Throwing his blankets off, he hitched up his pajama bottoms and stood, almost stubbing his toe on the nightstand. "Kid!" He tapped him on the shoulder and was rewarded with a clawing hand on his sleeve. His arm was pulled down and his shoulder nearly dislocated. He yanked back, and his sleeve was released. A frightened pair of eyes looked out from the blanket. "Samantha?" he asked hoarsely. Linfield touched him again, and he flinched away. The Kid was obviously still not quite awake, his pupils dilated, sweat running down his forehead. "Sorry Kid, just Jimmy Linfield. Remember?" "Linfield?" "Right. And if you don't quiet down, Krevsky's gonna be over here too." The blanket fell off the couch and he stood, unsteadily. "You need anything, Kid?" "Just some fresh air." Linfield followed him out the door. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. "Must've been one helluva nightmare, Kid." Linfield surmised. "You can say that again. God...I wasn't...yelling, was I?" "No." Linfield smiled. "Do you often yell the names of strange girls?" "Samantha?" "She your girlfriend?" "Hardly. She was-*is*, my sister." "And you have nightmares about her? She must either be really ugly or-" suddenly he remembered what Halpern had said, . *Oh great, foot in mouth time...* "She's gone." Mulder said to himself. "I assume you read my background report?" "You're clean." "Always nice to know. They mention my sister, don't they?" "Vaguely." "She disappeared. When I was twelve." he took a deep breath. "But nobody believes me. I see her, in my dreams. She didn't just vanish, she wasn't just kidnapped. Someone, some*thing*, took her. But nobody wants to believe me." "I want to believe." Linfield said softly. "And you're what, twenty four?" "I should be past it by now, it was twelve years ago-" "No, that wasn't what I meant. Sometimes, when we become adults, memories from childhood can show up. Sometimes as dreams." "Hey, who's the psychology major here?" Mulder grinned. "I stick to you for a while and I'll end up in some leather-lined office shrinking heads for a living. Are you gonna be okay?" "I'll be fine. Can you answer something?" "Sure." "Does it ever seem...do you ever get the feeling that you're on the wrong side of the looking glass? That reality gets...skewed?" "Every day of my life." Linfield grinned. "When you look into the abyss...the abyss looks into you. Someone really deep and smart said that, and for the life of me I don't know who." "Beware the monster lest the monster you become." "And that rings especially true for you, Kid. Be careful that you don't climb too far into our man's head, or you might not be able to get back out. Let's go inside, I'm freezing out here." _________________________ 9 am "We need to talk." Linfield climbed into the car next to Eduards. Krevsky and Halpern looked up from the back seat. "Here? Now?" Eduards hissed. "What about?" "Kid. I sent him off with Cooley, we've got a few minutes. I think we need to keep an eye on him, Ed." "Whyinhell for?" "Because he is a lot more than what he looks like." "He looks like a Kid to me." Halpern said. "Exactly." Linfield pointed at him. "Did you, any of you, wake up around two this morning?" "Not me." "Well, I did. And you know what happened to him? Poor kid was crying in his sleep. Halpern, how much did you get about his sister?" "Just that she disappeared." "They don't tell you that he still has nightmares about her. He thinks something, accent on *thing*, took her. And he's scared shitless of what he can do." "What he can do is he can brilliantly profile killers while still practically in grade school. I don't see what there is to fear in that." "Of course not." Linfield waved the other car on. "You aren't the one doing it. He's becoming this guy, thinking like him. It's spooky, and he doesn't like it. If we're not careful, he's going to run back to Oxford. And I can guarantee you he won't take work at the bureau when he graduates." "Okay, skunks, remember that then. Give the kid a break." Eduards started the car. "But until then, we have a job to do." He pulled out of the parking lot and followed Cooley's car to the hospital. __________________ 9:12 Lincoln's Mercy Hospital Waiting room Mulder was buried in thought as he pushed the door to the hospital open. Eyes set on something in the distance, he didn't notice the man limping towards him, cradling a broken arm, until it was too late. "DAMN!" the man yelled. "Watch out, man!" Mulder muttered an apology to the man, who was already out the door, still cursing. "Now *there's* psychotic for you." Linfield looked over his shoulder. "They must've given him the good stuff." "Good stuff?" Mulder echoed, distracted. "Painkillers and all that. Something wrong?" Mulder watched the man walk off. There was something about him- "No, just tired, that's all." He smiled reassuringly at Linfield. __________________________ "I don't see it." Eduards crossed his arms. "What could be visible enough to be seen from a passing car, yet not visible enough to be seen by six men *looking* for it?" Mulder lifted the man's foot and tilted his head quizzically. "I'm not sure." "What are you looking for?" "I don't know. I'll tell you when I find it." "Krevsky, you're a doctor, you take a look." Krevsky probed the man's neck. "I don't see anything unusual anywhere." "Great." Eduards snorted. "This is killing me." "He'd be able to notice it from far off...maybe deformity of some kind..." Mulder mumbled to himself. "Can you pass the medical report?" Krevsky handed him the clipboard. Halpern came in. "We just finished the first victim. Nothing there either." Mulder flipped the pages of the medical report. "He had a broken arm...why doesn't he have a cast on?" "It should be on the medical charts-look." Krevsky pointed with his pen. "They found the arm had healed sufficiently." "Yeah, the lady had pins in her wrist. No mobility. That's the kind of thing they-" Halpern cut off as Mulder left the room. "Hey Kid, what's up?" He fumbled with the doorknob on the third victim's room, the Hispanic woman. She was awake, muttering incoherently, "Ave maria purisima no dios agua por favor..." and absently scratching at the ace bandage on her elbow. Mulder halted and checked her chart, so suddenly that Linfield, following him, bumped into him. He whirled, and Linfield got a clear picture of brilliant hazel eyes before he was out in the hall again. "Kid, are you feeling-" "Not right now." The next stop was the second victim, a tall white man with a prosthetic hand. Finally, the little girl's room. Mulder flew in, startled for a minute by the dark-haired sleeping figure, and they flipping through her records as if they might vanish. And there it was. Previous injuries to admittance- Accidental laceration to the upper bicep muscle, multiple stitches. Finally he stopped running and whirled on Eduards, out in the hall. "Sir, where would you go if you wanted to...watch people?" Eduards shrugged. "I don't know, the train station, maybe. Kid, are you feeling well?" "No. But if you wanted to watch people, observe them, without them thinking you were crazy, or on drugs, where would you go? A place where people are like that all the time, right?" "Like..." "The hospital." They all said at once. "And then he stalks them, waits until they're alone..." Cooley was already scribbling again. "Krevsky, go find out where the victims were hospitalized before coming here. Halpern, get out a warning, eyes only, to the security sections of every hospital in Lincoln and outlying areas. Cooley, what ya got?" Eduards moved them to the side of the hall. "Sadist, stalker tendencies, Kid, you notice anything else?" "Something...that's why I noticed him, ye gods I'm becoming a stalker myself." Mulder murmured. "That man I ran into-maybe a Freudian slip-I'm gonna go help Krevsky." He ran off. Cooley exchanged a confused look with Eduards. "He's got a great mind, but no discipline." "Can we save this chat for another time?" Eduards rubbed his chin. "Go find Halpern. See if he's got that memo out yet." =========================================================================== From: raenright@aol.com (RaEnright) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: First Blood: The Chase 3/2/3 Date: 4 Aug 1995 10:49:31 -0400 Here we go a-gain! So just what is it that Mulder saw? Well... First Blood, book 2 The Chase, part 3 9:28 Lincoln's Mercy Hospital Lincoln, Neb. "Yeah, that's it...you have the sketch? Great, great, keep an eye out. No, don't sound an alarm, I don't want anyone alarmed unnecessarily. Yeah, call us, here's my pager number, 555-1011." Halpern clicked the phone and checked the next name on the list. "I checked their records." Krevsky ran up, Mulder in tow. "Listen to this-all of them were either treated or hospitalized at two different hospitals, Willed Hospital or Allenburg Treatment Center." "Got it." Halpern looked at the directory. "I've already hit Allenburg. I'll call Willed." "Now what?" Mulder asked. "Now we *wait.* Sit down and have a coffee, you look awful." "Thanks. Where's Eduards?" "Over here!" someone yelled. Eduards was sitting with Cooley and Linfield at a booth in the cafeteria. "Got you a drink, Kid." Linfield handed him a soda bottle. "Thanks." He slumped into the booth, disturbed by his own behavior. Eduards gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure you're okay?" "Yeah. Wow." Mulder took a sip of the soda. "What a rush." "The flip side of the coin." Cooley intoned. "You figured it out. Good going." "Thank you." Mulder noticed his hand trembling, the other one gripping the bottle so hard his knuckles were turning white. He forced himself to relax. "Here's the game plan." Eduards leaned forward. "We're gonna split up, Linfield, Halpern, and Kid, you take Willed. Cooley, you and Krevsky take Allenberg with me. We're gonna stake them out. Remember, athletic white male, ages 20-40, looks like this." He held up the vague ID sketch. "And try to look sick or something, you *are * staking out hospitals. Shouldn't be a problem for you, Kid. Remember, don't make a scene, the last thing we need are hysterical outpatients beating you with crutches." He joked, trying to lighten the mood a little. They smiled grimly. "Kid, you especially, don't try to take him down yourself, you've got no gun. He's probably working at one of the two, or someone would have caught him by now. I'm having the branch office run background checks on the staff, but it'll take a while. Let's go." __________________ 11:30 Willed Hospital, Lincoln "You seen anyone yet?" Halpern sidled up to Mulder. "Not yet." Mulder cradled his arm and tried to look injured. "There's too many people here." "That can be a good thing. We blend in easier." "So does he." Linfield muttered. "I found some poor woman whose husband ditched her with their kid. I'm gonna go play Daddy." "Good luck, hope he doesn't puke on you." Halpern said. Mulder grinned. Halpern's pager beeped, and he made his way to the nurses desk. Mulder saw him covertly flash his badge and ask to use the telephone. _________________ "*Eight* suspects match the sketches." Halpern was back. "We can't possible check them all out without alerting someone. Two orderlies, the four janitors on the day shift, and two doctors." "I'd say the orderlies, most likely. They'd have more maneuverability. The doctors have too much of a spotlight on them, and the janitors can't get close enough to examine them without risking getting caught. What have we got on them?" "Both in one of those 'halfway house' programs, were on the streets, but managed to pull themselves up and get decent jobs-" Someone tugged at his elbow. He turned to see a nurse. "Dr. Glanville will see you now, sir." Mulder started to protest, but Halpern shook his head. *Don't blow our cover.* "Dr. Glanville?" He asked. "He's a *friend* of ours, Kid." Halpern said, and the meaning was all too clear. *Check him out.* Mulder let himself be led off. Linfield looked confused, but stayed where he was. ___________________ 11:46am "Now then, sir, can I ask your name?" the doctor took his injured hand and examined the sloppy bandage. "Fox Mulder. I don't have records here-" "We're used to that, emergency rooms and all. You have insurance?" Dr. Glanville asked quietly. "Yes." Mulder lied. "Good, you're going to need it." And the world went black. ___________________ 12:30 pm Mulder groaned and opened his eyes. Not that it helped, it was pitch black. Maybe his eyelids weren't responding. "Well, awake are we?" a harsh tone rang in the darkness. "Having fun?" "Who the hell are you?" he managed to slur, pushing himself upright. His hands were tied, in front of him, and his legs bound with tape. The ties hurt like hell. "A comrade in arms." The voice said, as if this were a great joke. "Who are you?" "I have a feeling I'm 'in trouble'." He muttered. "You know, I was like you." The man's voice echoed in the dark. "I tried, too." "Tried what?" "Your wrist. I tried to die." Mulder decided his psychology training could kick in anytime now. "What?" "I took my own life. What's it like? You must know. I knew." "Know?" *dolt, say something original.* "They wouldn't let me." The voice turned vindictive. "I tried, I tried, they wouldn't let me, they stuck a needle in my arm, my blood full of drugs...Linnea..." the voice trailed off. The there was an evil laugh. "Are you scared? Do you want to die? I wanted to, and I was scared. Well, they didn't let me, so I help others." "I can help you." Mulder said. "Can you untie me?" "Do you read Poe?" "Do I *what?*" he asked incredulously. Oh god, he was in trouble. "Poe, the greatest author ever. He wrote, you know, great books. He was insane." "Can you untie me? I can tell you all about Poe." "Oh really? Can you, now? Let's hear it." "I'd like to have my hands back." "Oh no, you might try to hurt yourself, before I could help you. Couldn't have that. Tell me about Poe." Mulder closed his eyes and flipped through the index cards in his mind, finally finding the references he as looking for. He began to read off the page in his head, silently blessing whatever gods existed for a photographic memory. He had to keep talking. *Well, I found him. Now if they can find me...* ______________________ 1 pm "You do know a lot about Poe, don't you? Can you recite his books?" The voice was softer, less harsh. "I wouldn't have to die if I could do that. But Linnea used to love him, yes indeed. She used to read about him all the time. She was like you, she remembered him." "Linnea was your wife?" Silence. "Who was she?" "Tell me 'The Raven'." "Who was Linnea? Did she die?" That had to be the stupid question for the year. His wrists were tingling, his fingers swollen and numb. His shoulders were cramping, and he was a more than a little tired of the dark. Something wet was running down the side of his face, and it itched like hell. "She died. The Raven, if you please." "Was she your daughter?" "They all tried. They did, I know it. They had excuses, but how could anyone want to live? Tell me that, how would anyone else want to live without her?" "I don't know. Who is she?" "She tried, and he did, he even cut his hand off! Can you imagine that? And the little girl, she was so small..." *He's talking about the other victims; he thinks they tried to kill themselves.* "They were hurt accidentally. They didn't even know Linnea." "Everyone knew Linnea. Now, sir." His voice rose an octave. "A recital, before I help you to your grave." Mulder swallowed and decided if he pushed any more he might indeed end up meeting Linnea. "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..." _____________________ "Very good, sir. You do have a gift. Now, for your turn. Are you grateful?" "For what?" "For the chance to die?" "No. I don't know Linnea, Doctor. Please, don't do this." "Oh, but I know you want to die, your wrist is bandaged. They did it to me, so *I* wouldn't do it. You don't have to lie." "I'm not, believe me." "Have you read The Telltale Heart?" "Want me to recite it?" he said hopefully. Maybe if he could stall...where the hell was everyone? "I want you to live it." A dull *thud*ing started in the room; Mulder recognized it as the dead man's heart, taken out of the story. *And now what do I do, confess to murder, like the character did?* A door slammed, and he was alone with the heartbeat. Thud...Thud...Thud... Thud...Thud...Thud... ____________________ 2:15 pm "Whereinhell is he?" Linfield had given up the concerned father act and was now pretending to read the last rites over some unconscious soul in the hallway. "I don't know. He was going to check on one of the doctors-oh, shit, I didn't just..." "I think we'd better go find that doctor." Linfield dropped the man's hand and started purposely towards the nurse's station. Halpern almost slammed into him as he stopped. "Excuse me, can you page Dr. Glanville?" "Yes sir." The duty nurses' eyes widened. Five minutes passed. "He may have checked out early. He sometimes goes visiting at some of the other hospitals in the area." "Ma'am, we're with the FBI." Linfield held out his badge. "Can you tell me where he lives?" "Y-yeah." She dug through the rolodex and handed them the card with his address on it. "Halpern, stay here. Get Eduards on the phone and tell him to look out. I'm going to check his house." "I'll have backup there." "Tell them to be careful, possible hostage situation, agent may be down." ___________________ 1:47 Thud...Thud...Thud *Confessing may not be such a bad idea. Maybe he'll turn the damned thing off.* Thud...Thud...Thud... "I confess! Doctor, I murdered him!" "The heart knows all, sir! You'll have to do better than that!" *What I wouldn't do for a swiss army knife right about now...* Thud...Thud...Thud... ____________________ 2:28 The car whipped around, rattled up the suburban street noisily. Before it had even stopped fully, Linfield was out, leaving his keys in the car, gun drawn. A SWAT team member met him there; the Kid had better appreciate this. "We're heading in. Do you know *anything* about what kind of weapons this guy may have?" "No idea. Poor kid didn't even have a gun on him. Clear the house, but leave the final arrest to me. Got it?" "Right." ___________________ 2:15 "Feeling fine, sir?" Thud...Thud...Thud... "B-bastard." Thud...Thud...Thud... "You'll see soon. If you don't, I'll send you off like the others." Thud...Thud...Thud... *He's going to drive me insane.* ___________________ 2:28 "Freeze!" "Clear!" Nothing. "Freeze!" "Clear!" Nothing. The basement was the only place left. __________________ 2:29 *Funny, I can hear voices.* *You're losing it, Mulder.* Thud...Thud...Thud... "Do you hear the angels coming for you?" __________________ Linfield kicked the door in, reminding himself to put a new pair of shoes on the FBI expense roster. Not to mention a foot cast. The good doctor stood there, in a lit booth, a tape recorder set in front of a microphone. He was unarmed. He submitted easily, and Linfield cuffed him for good measure. "Can't have you attacking us, doctor. Find out what he did with our agent." He ordered the man who took custody. He reached out and switched the tape off as they led him out the door. "Am I dead?" He ducked automatically, the realized it was coming from a speaker in the wall. The Kid's voice, small and frightened. "Doctor?" "It's all right, Kid. Linfield here." "Would you mind turning on the lights?" __________________ *Perfect.* Eduards thought as he looked in the window. *One more veggie, courtesy of the FBI.* The Kid was in there, asleep, and pretty much drugged out of his mind. "Tell ya, kid's got *style*." Linfield said. "I turn the tape off and he asks if he's dead. That takes guts." "It may have taken the last of his, ever think of that?" Eduards said sharply. "Do you really think there's a chance in hell he won't try to put as much distance as possible between himself and the bureau once he gets out of here?" "Come on, it wasn't that bad. A bump to the head and a few hours in a basement. That's not so awful." "Hey look, he's up!" Halpern pointed. The Kid was blinking, trying to sit up and failing miserably. "Now *that's* guts for you, Linfield." "We'll see." Eduards pushed open the door. "Agent Mulder! Lay back down there." The Kid's head snapped up, and he smiled. "No sir, Agent Eduards, sir, I think I'd rather sit up." Krevsky supported his back as he winced. His hands were still swollen and the angry burn on his wrist was chafed. "Thanks." "No problem." "Hey, Kid, how's the dead man?" Linfield ignored the angry look Eduards shot him. "I think I'm alive, now, but I could be wrong." He shook his head. "What did they do to me?" "Morphine and assorted other painkillers." Krevsky said professionally. "And you need them, believe me." "Did you get him?" "Nailed him. But next time, try not to be live bait? Too often you could end up *dead meat.*" Halpern held out a tape. "He was trying to drive you crazy." "Tell me about it. But...." He smiled. "I don't think there's gonna *be* a next time." Linfield frowned. "Mulder, I know how you must feel, but the bureau needs you." Eduards said softly. "You can't-" "No, not like that. No more serial killers, not until I get a gun and some training. And until they get rid of the lunatic that sent me along with that guy." He said, with a pointed look at Halpern. "Right, I hereby resign." Halpern tossed his badge at Mulder, who considered it suspiciously and tossed it back, grimacing as his fingers gripped it. "All right, forgiven. But this is you last chance." "Gee thanks, Director Mulder." ____________________________ August 10, 1983 Lewis- Thought you might like a postcard. That picture's of the building where I've been working for the past week. We just wrapped up another case and I'm due back for school soon. This chasing drug dealers and killers is getting boring. We just caught another murderer. Ho hum. Can you do me a favor? There's a large volume of Edgar Allan Poe's works on the bookshelf in my bedroom. I want you to go get it and either sell it or burn it. Don't ask why, I'll explain some other time. Tell Phoebe I said hi, and if she hasn't trashed my reputation all over Oxford(again) tell her I'm sorry, and that all the guys here say hi too(Especially Krevsky, he says she looks like a 'babe'). The bureau is great, I'll tell you all about it when I get back. Federal Bureau Of Investigation Special Agent Fox Mulder(Has a nice ring to it.) ____________________________ Prodigy is, at it's essence, adaptability and persistent, positive obsession. Without persistence, what remains is an enthusiasm of the moment. Without adaptability, what remains may be channeled into destructive fanatacism. Without positive obsession, there is nothing at all. -Lauren Olamina, Earthseed: The Books of the Living Octavia Butler, The Parable Of The Sower