"All set?" Fox Mulder looked at his partner. Dana Scully
zipped up the front of her FBI jacket and nodded grimly, her
hazel eyes cold and set. It always made Mulder nervous to look at
her when she was in "SWAT mode", as he called it. He wished she
wasn't on this operation - he hated to think of her in danger -
but she, together with himself, had helped construct Johnny
Prentiss' psychological profile, and she deserved to be in on the
end of it.
They got out of his car and joined the assembling group of
FBI agents and police officers. "We've got the building
surrounded," one of the officers said.
Frank Belson, the SAC for the operation, said, "Okay, this
is it. Let's be careful out there, folks. I don't need to remind
you, these are dangerous people we're dealing with." His dark
eyes glittered in his mahogany face. He, and the other agents,
had seen what remained in the wake of this particular group of
scum. Johnny Prentiss and his gang of cutthroats had had the run
of the streets for long enough.
Mulder and Scully took up positions behind dumpsters in an
alley beside the building, tucked away out of sight of the main
body of the strike team. It was unlikely that Prentiss would try
to escape through there, since it was too narrow to hide a
vehicle in. Still, Belson wanted all possible escape routes
covered. Mulder and Scully exchanged terse glances.
Belson made sure all his people were in position, then
lifted a bullhorn. "THIS IS THE POLICE," his voice boomed out.
"THE BUILDING IS SURROUNDED. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND COME OUT
WITH YOUR HANDS UP."
His words hung in the air for a long moment.
Then the shooting started.
The gunfire was concentrated at the outer areas of the
building. Mulder and Scully were considering leaving their
positions to provide backup to the belabored front line when they
heard a scraping behind them. They spun around, guns at the
ready, automatically yelling "Freeze!"
Two shots rang out. Scully, who had been ahead of Mulder,
crumpled to the ground.
Nulder's heart stopped, but his body was already going on
autopilot. Fleeing shadows snagged the corner of his eye. He
squeezed a few shots into the darkness after them.
Other agents and officers came running, too late. Their prey
had escaped, the screech of tyres echoing through the alley.
"Officer down!" Mulder yelled as he dropped to his knees
beside Scully. She lay on her side where she had fallen, and
hadn't moved. The hair on the right side of her head was matted
with blood.
"Scully?" She didn't respond, but he saw her shoulders
heave. At least she was still breathing, he told himself.
"Get an ambulance!" Mulder shouted. Afraid of what he might
see, he carefully turned her over onto her back.
Blood was pouring from wounds on the side of her head and
her left shoulder, forming small puddles on the cement beneath
her. She gasped reflexively as Mulder moved her.
"Aagghhh - Mulder..." He felt her pulse. It raced. Her skin
was becoming cold and clammy, and he realized that she was going
into shock. He pulled off his jacket and covered her, carefully
applying pressure to the shoulder wound.
"Just hang in there, Dana. Everything's gonna be okay," he
said in what he hoped was a calm and reassuring tone. It
certainly didn't reflect his own state of mind. Her eyes looked
up dazedly at him, gradually becoming unfocused as she slipped
into unconsciousness.
"You're going to be okay," he told her, repeating it over
and over like a mantra; it helped to keep him from breaking down
completely. Just barely.
Then the paramedics were there, gently pushing him out of
the way as they lifted Scully onto a stretcher. He watched
helplessly as the paramedics got an oxygen line set up.
When they loaded her into the ambulance, Mulder
automatically moved forward to get in beside her. One of the
paramedics stood in his way. "I'm sorry, sir, you can't -"
"She's my partner," Mulder said in a low voice.
The EMT took one look at his stricken face, and stood aside.
Mulder paced back and forth restlessly. What was taking so
long? What were they doing? What was wrong?
The nurses sighed as they saw him approaching the nurse's
station again. He'd been coming up to them every five minutes,
asking for progress reports when they had none to give him.
Before he could say anything, the head nurse answered "No, Mr
Mulder, we haven't heard anything yet. Please take a seat. We'll
tell you if anything happens, we PROMISE."
Mulder retreated under the stern gaze of the formidable-
looking woman, back to the cold and sterile waiting room. He sat
stiff-backed in the gray naugahyde-covered chair, folding his
hands in his lap. Within seconds, though, he was back on his feet
and pacing again.
He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not when she'd just come back
to him.
Suddenly he stopped, sensing a pair of eyes on his neck. He
whirled around, and came face to face with Scully.
No, not Scully. A young woman with red hair, certainly, but
her eyes were a warm brown. And taller, definitely taller. Still,
there was a slight resemblance to Scully about her face; the way
she carried herself, the set of her jaw. And she was regarding
him with an odd look. As if she recognized him. He, on the other
hand, with his photographic memory, was sure that he had never
met this woman before. Before he could say anything, she spoke.
"Fox - Mulder?" she said hesitantly.
"That's me," he replied. Her face broke into a smile. There
was Scully again, in the way her eyes lit up and her chin
dimpled.
"I'm Justine Scully. I'm Dana's cousin," she explained,
extending a hand.
"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking the offered hand.
"How'd you know who I was?"
"It wasn't hard," Justine said. "Dana talked about you all
the - uh, when I asked her about her job."
"Mm-hmm," Mulder replied distractedly. He had noticed a
figure in surgical greens walking towards them, and was oblivious
to everything else. "Doctor! How is she?" he called out.
The surgeon came up to Mulder. "She's all right, Agent
Mulder. We got all the bullet fragments out." Mulder exhaled a
breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.
"Can I see her?" Mulder asked. The surgeon hesitated, but
saw the silent plea in Mulder's expression.
"For a few minutes," she conceded. "She's still in a coma,
though. One bullet grazed her skull, and she received a nasty
concussion when she hit the ground. It may be...a while before
she comes round."
"That's okay," Mulder said. "I - I just want to see her."
The surgeon led Mulder to the recovery room, with Justine
trailing along behind. "Five minutes," the doctor reminded him.
Mulder nodded mechanically, seeing only the white-draped figure
on the bed in front of him.
A sense of deja vu kicked him in the stomach.
Scully was lying so still that his own heart almost stopped
for a moment, but the barely perceptible rise and fall of her
chest assured him that she was indeed breathing. Ugly breathing
tubes led out of her nose, marring the delicate beauty of her
sleeping face. Her red hair fanned out on the pillow below the
heavy bandages swathing her head; a stray curl was caught on the
ends of her long eyelashes, and he gently brushed the trespassing
strand off her face.
"Hi, Scully," he said quietly. Unconsciously he felt for her
slack white hand, lifting and holding it as if it were made of
fine porcelain. A pang of almost physical pain jarred through his
chest as he stood there, looking down at her, realizing once
again just how small and fragile she was.
All too soon, the nurse came in and told him that he had to
leave. "Okay," he answered. Bending close to Scully's face, he
whispered, "Bye, Scully. I'll see you tomorrow." He didn't care
if the nurse heard him; all he cared about was that wherever she
was, Scully might hear him too, and come back...
"Can I give you a ride somewhere?" Mulder asked Justine.
"I think so, yes, thank you," she replied. "I'm staying at
the Hartford Arms, downtown." Mulder raised an eyebrow. The
Hartford Arms was one of the more expensive hotels in DC.
"So what do you do, Justine?" he said as they drove through
the city.
"I'm a physicist at MIT," she said matter-of-factly. A
corner of Mulder's mouth curled up briefly.
"Runs in the family, huh," he commented. He and Scully had
often had noisy discussions centered around her insistence on the
theoretical impossibilities of interstellar travel, into which
she brought the full force of her Einsteinian readings. Will have
again, he reminded himself sternly. Stop thinking of her in the
past tense, damn it!
"You could say that," Justine said enigmatically.
Mulder dropped Justine off in front of the hotel, saying,
"I'll come by to take you to the hospital tomorrow. 5.30 okay?"
She nodded. He waited till she entered the hotel before driving
off.
Mulder felt as if he were working in a tomb. The basement
office he shared with Scully seemed even more isolated than it
was. Some of the others who had been in the strike team the day
before had come by to ask how Scully was, but mostly he had been
left alone. He was somewhat grateful for that - he didn't feel
like company right now. Paradoxically, though, he felt lonely -
but it was a loneliness that no one could overcome except one
person, and she was lying in the hospital in a coma.
It didn't make any difference that he knew exactly where
Scully was this time. She still wasn't there with him. And he
still missed her just as much.
There were no new developments in the case. Belson had
dropped in briefly to update Mulder on the fact that there were
no updates, besides the knowledge that Prentiss had escaped.
Mulder tried to concentrate on finishing some neglected
paperwork, but the silence was just too loud. Twice he caught
himself opening his mouth to ask Scully how to spell a word; the
sight of her chair, empty once again, brought a lump to his
throat. Swallowing hard, he tore his eyes away from the corner
where her neat, alphabetized, color-coded desk stood across from
his own realm of chaos.
He was relieved when quitting time finally rolled around.
Before going to pick up Justine, he stopped by at a street vendor
and bought a posy of spring flowers. Scully liked - likes, dammit
- asters, he remembered.
Justine was waiting for him where he had left her the day
before. They exchanged few words on the way to the hospital.
Scully had been moved out of the ICU. Her condition had been
upgraded to stable, but she was still unconscious. The nurse on
duty would only allow one visitor at a time, so Justine went in
first. The door closed in front of Mulder as Justine went up to
Scully's bedside and said, softly, "Hi, Dana. It's me, Justine."
About five minutes later, Justine emerged, saying nothing
but giving Mulder a small smile, and nodded towards the door.
Mulder went into the room and stood beside Scully.
"Hi, Scully," he said. "I got you some flowers," he went on,
pulling the slightly crumpled bouquet out of a jacket pocket.
"Hope you don't mind them being a bit squashed." Laying the
flowers on the bedside table, he drew up a chair beside her. "The
other guys said to say hi." He sighed. "Prentiss got away. We
haven't had any new leads yet, but we've got as many people as
the Bureau can spare on the job. We'll get him," he said. "And
don't worry, your plants are okay. The red geranium was looking a
bit droopy, so I put it in the window to get some sun." He took
her hand and pressed it gently. "I sure hope you wake up soon,
Scully," he said. A smile spread slowly over his face. "I hear
there's a bunch of strange lights hovering over West Virginia,
messing up the ham radio waves. Soon as we get this Prentiss case
wrapped up, I'm heading out there. And I could use some company."
Standing up, he replaced her hand on the white sheets,
patting it briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest." He
gently placed his hand against her warm cheek, allowing it to
linger there for a long moment. Reluctantly he took his hand
away, and looked down at her relaxed face one more time before
turning around to leave.
Belson did not lose any time. "Okay, people. We have a solid
lead. A couple of Prentiss' men were sighted down by the
warehouse district, and suspicious activity has been reported
around one of the abandoned warehouses." He turned around to
indicate a spot on the map projected onto the screen behind him.
"Here. Now, we've got a full SWAT team at our disposal. And this
time, we're going to do it right." He gazed around sternly,
making eye contact with every agent in the room, favoring Mulder
with an added nod. Mulder returned the look bleakly. This one's
for Scully, he thought.
There was little room in the warehouse to maneuver. Crates
wre stacked up high all around, creating narrow passages that
often came to dead ends. Belson hadn't liked it, and Mulder
wasn't ecstatic either. In cramped quarters like these, hunter
could too easily become prey.
Mulder was reminded of this the hard way. When the shooting
began, he had spotted a fleeing figure out of the corner of his
eye, and took off after it, yelling "Freeze! FBI!" Now he found
himself alone in one of the passages between the piles of crates.
The crates towered above his head and blocked out a good deal of
light, making him nervous as he prowled the shadows.
Suddenly a gunshot came out of nowhere, knocking Mulder's
gun out of his hand. The Glock spun away into the shadows, and
Mulder lost sight of it. Cursing under his breath, he looked
around for the source of the gunshot, but saw only crates
everywhere he looked. Then a low, throbbing laugh came to his
ears.
A figure slithered forth out of the darkness into a slanting
beam of light from the overhead fluorescent lamps. Mulder
recognized the man who stood in front of him as Johnny Prentiss.
Prentiss looked smug as he covered Mulder with his gun.
"Thought you had me, didn't you?" Prentiss said. "Thought
you could trap me?" He laughed again, an unpleasant, barking
sound. Mulder gritted his teeth. His eyes darted around, looking
for something, anything, that might possibly keep him from
getting shot. But there was nothing. Nowhere to run, except away
up the passage - and he didn't think Prentiss was the kind of man
who would have reservations about shooting an unarmed man in the
back. He wondered why Prentiss didn't just shoot him, now, and
get it over with.
As if Prentiss had read his mind, the hammer on his gun
clicked into place. This is it, Mulder thought. Goodbye, Dana...
An explosive report sounded, echoing through the warehouse.
Mulder was surprised to find himself still standing, and looked
at Prentiss. The man had a startled expression on his face, and
his eyes stared accusingly at Mulder before he toppled over to
land on his face. Behind Prentiss' fallen body, Mulder saw
another figure standing in the shadows. "Who are you?" he called,
moving forward. His jaw dropped when he saw who it was.
Justine Scully stood there, Mulder's smoking gun in her
hand.
"Justine?" Mulder said, dazed. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you might need some help," she said coolly. She
moved forward smoothly and pressed the gun back into Mulder's
hand, before slipping away into the shadows.
"Wait!" Mulder called. She didn't - or chose not to - hear
him. By the time it occurred to him to go after her, she had
disappeared.
The other officers had by now arrived at the scene. An agent
knelt down beside Prentiss and placed his fingers on his neck as
Belson came up and looked questioningly at him.
"Dead," the agent reported.
Belson nodded, and looked at Mulder. "Good work, Agent
Mulder," he said, adding with concern, "Hey, your hand's
bleeding."
Mulder looked down. Sure enough, the skin was broken
where Prentiss' bullet had grazed it.
Belson regarded him curiously. "How'd you shoot Prentiss
with your hand like that?" he asked.
"I -" Mulder answered. "I don't know." Better to tell a
half-truth now than to have to explain Justine.
"That looks bad," someone else said. "We'd better get you to
the hospital."
"...and then she disappeared, Scully. I don't know how she
got there or how she knew I was there. But I do know she saved my
life. Do me a favor, Scully - when you wake up, give her a call
and tell her I said thanks."
"You're welcome." Mulder turned around quickly. Justine
stood in the doorway of Scully's room. "Justine!" he exclaimed.
"How - ?" He let the unspoken question hang between them.
Justine moved up Scully's bedside, looking down at Scully's
pale, still unconscious face. "Let me tell you a story, Mr
Mulder," she said. Without waiting for him to answer, she went
on.
"I have an aunt - Kathy." Justine stared out the window,
refusing to meet Mulder's eyes. "She's a cop. Aunt Kathy was,
well, in the same situation as Dana is in now: she was injured
and her partner had to carry on the investigation on his own. He
got killed." Her eyes flicked to Mulder briefly, and back to the
window. "Aunt Kathy never forgave herself - she was never the
same again, my father said..." Justine's fingers played absently
with an aster.
Mulder was now completely puzzled. "I don't understand," he
admitted.
Justine only smiled. "You will - someday," she answered in
that maddeningly enigmatic way.
Mulder said, "Just tell me - how did you know where I was?"
Justine stared at the floor. Finally, "Freedom of
Information Act," she said, moving swiftly to the door. Before
Mulder could stop her, she was out of the room. He followed
quickly, but the corridor was empty when he reached it.
He asked a passing nurse, "Did you see a young woman come
out of here? Tall, red hair?" The nurse shook his head, startled.
"Thanks," Mulder said. Slowly, he went back into Scully's room.
"No offense, Scully, but you have some weird relatives," he
said, squeezing her hand. Suddenly he stopped, and peered closely
at her face. Had he imagined it, or had her cheek muscle
twitched, ever so slightly?
Her eyelashes fluttered. This time he knew he wasn't
imagining it. Letting go of her hand, he ran to the door and,
sticking his head out, yelled, "Nurse! Doctor! Come quick!"
For the second time in four days, he paced anxiously in the
waiting room, but this time he had a definite spring in his step.
Scully was awake! Scully was all right!
The doctor told him he could see Scully for five minutes.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
"Hey, sleepyhead," he said affectionately.
Scully's mouth turned up slightly at the corners. "Hi,
Mulder," she whispered.
"How you feeling?" Mulder asked her.
"Like eight elephants did the rhumba on my brain," she
replied. Mulder grinned. Scully was definitely on the road to
full recovery.
Then her delicate brow creased slightly. "Mulder...I think I
remember hearing something, just before I woke up. Who's -
Justine?"
"It's a long story," Mulder answered. "You get some rest
now," he added, touching his palm to her cheek gently. She smiled
up at him as her eyelids slid shut again.
"Hi, Mulder. Come on in," Scully said, opening her apartment
door. "What's that?" she asked, looking at the brown paper bag he
carried.
"Vanilla ice cream," he replied, "guaranteed cure-all."
Scully smiled as he headed for her kitchen in search of bowls and
spoons. As he clattered around in the cabinets, he noticed that
the TV was on, the screen flickering with a jerky picture.
"Something wrong with your TV, Scully?" he asked.
Scully chuckled as she returned to the couch and sat down.
"It's a home movie," she answered, as Mulder brought two heaped
bowls over. There was a moment of awkward maneuvering as she and
Mulder tried to figure out how she was going to handle her bowl
of ice cream, since most of her left arm was suspended in a
sling. The problem solved, they settled back on the couch to
watch the rest of the video.
"It's from my brother," Scully explained. A woman appeared
on the screen with a baby in her arms, waving the child's hand at
the camera. "My niece," Scully said proudly. "She was born just a
month ago." The baby was wide awake and smiling, and the camera
zoomed in for a close-up.
Mulder blinked. Those eyes, those brown eyes..."What's her
name?" he finally asked.
"Justine Diana Scully," Scully answered, smiling at the
sight of the baby girl reaching for a ribbon dangled over her
head.
Mulder glanced at Scully in surprise. "Named after your
cousin?" he asked.
Now it was Scully's turn to look surprised. "Mulder - I
don't have a cousin Justine," she said, puzzled.
Now why wasn't he surprised? "How about an aunt Kathy?" he
went on.
Scully raised an eyebrow. "No...but my middle name is
Katherine," she replied. "Mulder, what's this all about?" Her
eyes narrowed. "Does this have something to do with the Justine I
heard you talking about, back at the hospital?"
Mulder looked at her, considering the pieces that had just
fallen into place in his mind. "Scully," he began, "I've got
something to tell you..."
© 1996 Winnie Guat-Sim Lim