Chapter Text
It had been a slow afternoon to end a slow week.
Dana Scully and her partner Fox Mulder had been getting a whole lot of nothing much done in their basement office at the FBI. Reviewing cases, tidying up long-neglected paperwork and stealing glances at the time, tracking its gradual creep towards the weekend.
With a sigh, Mulder folded the email he had just printed into a dart, and fired it across the room. It landed neatly into the back of Scully's shirt collar.
"Careful, I might tell Assistant Director Skinner that you were passing notes in class," Scully told him dryly.
She skimmed over the airborne message, smoothing it out.
"Special Agent Dana Scully, Special Agent Fox Mulder. Please report for assignment. We have a developing situation which will require the assistance of all agents not currently in the field."
Scully looked over at Mulder, shaking her head. "A lot more may have developed in the time it took you to print that and then work on your origami skills Mulder," she remarked, reaching back for her jacket as she stood up from the open case file she had been flipping through.
"The skills didn't need any work Scully. You saw that dart. Flawless."
Mulder got up and joined her at the door of their office. "My money's on it being a bank heist. This is heist season. All the crooks are getting heisty."
He grinned at her, ready and waiting to receive her raised eyebrow and the little smile she would try to hide.
Scully provided both. "You're heist-erical," she told him.
They got into the elevator. “Something tells me this one could have ‘there goes our Friday night’ written all over it.” Mulder predicted.
By the time they made it up to the boardroom to report as requested, the room had nearly filled. Up the front was a tall, grey-haired man they knew a little, Agent Thormond.
"Agents, we'll get right to it," he called out. The buzz of conversation in the room quickly faded.
"We got a wiretap set up last week that has shed some light on a colourful character that we would just love to bring in."
Agent Thormond waved to the person manning the projector. A timeline of incidents popped up on the large screen behind him. Scully recognised a few crimes that had been splashed across newspaper headlines in recent weeks.
"This is all part of the handywork of one Datsun Gulliver, criminal ringleader, and general total pain in law enforcement’s ass. He very much operates in the shade, so we haven't even managed to get a photo, but word of mouth paints quite a picture. You pretty much name it, if it's got a bad vibe anywhere in and around DC, he and his crew will have a stake in it."
Thormond listed off the known offences on his fingers. "Gunrunning, drug dealing, grand theft auto. Money laundering, counterfeiting, good old fashioned burglary and your everyday crime lord type violence."
He nodded to a younger female agent, who stood up to speak. "In the last few days, what we've been getting off the wiretap is that he might be branching out into something in the terrorist arena," she told the room.
"We don't know exactly what, but the intel points to manufacturing explosives. Or maybe he's supply chain. We've gathered he is about to put a hit on one of any number of warehouses that would stock what he needs."
A colour-coded map of the DC area now appeared on the screen as she continued her summary.
"The problem is the number of potential locations. We're working with the PD to try and monitor the most likely, but it's a big task. All hands on deck."
Agent Thormond, stepping forward once more, explained the plan. All partners would now be assigned a location to go and investigate. They would provide the initial eyes and ears at the scene. If anything looked out of order, there was a police taskforce already briefed and ready to provide extra manpower once the FBI called it in.
Mulder let out a quiet groan as he and Scully made their way out of the room. "This is a two-sunflower-seed-bag job minimum Scully. Maybe three. The big bags. From that shop that does all the flavours."
Scully rolled her eyes at him. "You and that shop! Any excuse!" she laughed.
She knew he was right that it was going to be a long and tedious job. The chances of their assigned address being the lucky winner for this - she checked the APB they'd been given - Datsun Gulliver to strike probably weren't that high. If it even happened tonight.
Scully looked up at her partner. On the other hand, her work with him over the past few years had certainly taught her to expect the unexpected. Who knew what could happen?
Catching her glance, Mulder gave her a little smile. "Ready to go get some Friday feeling?" he asked.
Even if they were out there all night on a dead lead, Scully knew she’d rather spend that time with him than anyone else.
Freshly armed with the required sunflower seeds as well as tall cups of coffee, the two agents rolled up to the warehouse they were assigned to babysit. Mulder found an inconspicuous spot in front of a storage unit business across the road, from which it was easy to survey the totally quiet warehouse.
“Real hive of activity over there,” Mulder commented. “Glad they didn’t give us a dud.”
There were cars out front, but they were not far from a busy restaurant area, with Friday-night diners and barhoppers likely taking up most of the parking, as well as the storage unit centre, which still had people coming in and out even at this later hour. Scully wondered idly what anyone could need to collect from a storage unit on a Friday night, the time when people should be out having a life. Me included, she thought, yawning.
"Shall we go and sweep the perimeter, Agent Scully?" Mulder suggested.
It was something to do, anyway. There was plainly no one around, but they got out of the car and strolled over towards the large grey building.
"What do they even make here?" Scully wondered aloud.
"Things that go together with a bang," Mulder supplied helpfully.
They carried on around the far corner of the warehouse, reaching the side that was hidden from the road. Out of habit, both agents laid a hand on the weapons at their hip, but there was no one in sight. A large roller-door was built into the back wall. As they walked along it, Scully noticed there was an orange glow of light showing along the crack at the bottom. She and Mulder exchanged glances.
"Security light?" Scully guessed.
"Could be. I..."
Mulder's response was cut off by the distinctive sound of the safety being clicked off a revolver right behind them.
"Easy now guys. Put your hands up nice and high on that door, both of you. Slowly does it, that's the way."
The agents did as they were told. Scully felt a hand land firmly on her shoulder, the male voice now at her ear.
"Now, you just step over here with me. That way your pal isn't gunna try anything. Are you pal? Not when I've got a gun right on her."
Scully let him lead her a little way further along the wall, keeping calm. She saw there was a small side door there.
"Don't move," the unknown voice instructed flatly. He gave a series of sharp raps to the door.
Moments passed, and then the door opened from within. A figure dressed in solid black stood there, a balaclava over his face and a rifle positioned on his shoulder.
"Check her over. She could be armed," the voice behind her instructed. Scully nearly stumbled as he shoved her through the door.
Looking around, Scully saw she was at the back of a huge workspace, with machines and tanks of various sizes forming two rows down one side of the space. On the other side stood floor to ceiling shelves, with hundreds of plump pale green sacks stacked on pallets the whole way up. Two forklifts were parked on the wide concrete floor that made a path up the middle of the warehouse.
Hands still high, Scully tried to peek back over her shoulder towards Mulder as the man who had opened the door rifled through her coat and slapped at her waist. Finding her pistol at her hip, he roughly tore it from her holster. The cellphone he'd found in her pocket he splintered under his boot.
Mulder appeared in the doorway, hands lifted. The other man followed behind him, also all in black.
"They're armed alright," the man who'd let them in called over. Mulder's weapon was as quickly taken from his side as her own, his trenchcoat dragged from his shoulders for good measure.
"What are you, cops?" one of the men asked.
"We're here to shut you down," Scully said. "The police are right behind us, they'll be here any moment." She hoped her lie would trigger them to panic and make a run for it.
The man who'd caught them out the back shook his head. "No one's outside," he said, sounding relaxed. "And if the cops really were coming...well, I think they'd have been here hours ago. The party’s nearly over."
He gestured over to the far corner of the room. There was a little seating area there, beside a door that must lead out to the front entrance. For the first time Scully saw that there were people there, huddled down on the floor.
"Let's go."
Prodded along by the end of the rifle in her back, Scully obediently made her way across the length of the warehouse, and over to where what she assumed were hostages sat in a little group, looking dazed and terrified.
There were six people there. Making a quick assessment of their various outfits, Scully made a guess that three were workmen, two were possibly on the office or reception side of things, and a man dressed casually in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt she couldn't say - perhaps a customer.
It didn’t look as though things had gone easy for them. She could see all three of the workmen had been beaten. One of the office girls was quietly sobbing and cradling her arm up against her chest.
And then over against the wall, Scully spotted a seventh member of the group. Facedown on the floor, with blood pooled around his head.
Scully's eyes flashed to Mulder's. She read in his face what she was feeling herself. This situation could get very ugly, very fast.
"Who's in charge here?" Mulder asked, sounding cool and unruffled. "We need to get help for these people. Let us call an ambulance, and whatever it is you are here for, we can negotiate."
The man with the rifle rolled his shoulders lazily. "There's nothing to negotiate," he said. "Now get your ass down on the floor, right now, and keep your mouth shut."
He encouraged Mulder with a forceful dig into his ribs with the rifle butt. Flinching in pain, Mulder dropped down.
Scully moved quickly to go sit down beside him, but started a little as two more men, dressed in the same full black uniform, seemed to appear out of the ground just behind where they were all gathered. She realised there must be a basement entrance there.
"New arrivals!" one of the men called out in a booming, friendly voice. "And there I was thinking introductions were over for the day. Who the hell are you two?"
"They're Feds," one of their original captors supplied. "Or at least this one is anyway."
Holding up the coat he had yanked off Mulder, he pulled Mulder's badge from the pocket and tossed it over to the man who had first come up from the basement. He flipped it open.
"Agent Fox Mulder," he said.
Reading the man's air of authority and the way the others seemed to defer to him, Mulder nodded.
"And you, I'm going to guess, are Datsun Gulliver," Mulder said pleasantly.
Scully could tell the man was taken aback by his words, not expecting to be recognised, but he merely showed a cold white smile through his balaclava, and tipped forward in a quick theatrical bow.
Rising, Datsun turned to Scully, who was still standing. "And who is this… captivating redhead?" he asked her.
"I'm a medical doctor," she said. "Let me help these people, I can see they’re injured."
Datsun glanced down at the frightened group cowering on the floor. One of the beaten workmen was now half slumped over.
Worried for them, Scully pressed on. "I don't want to make any trouble. Just to help," she assured him.
She felt his assessing look. Seeming to decide she didn’t pose much of a threat, he waved his arm dismissively, indicating she could go ahead. One of his henchmen kept his rifle loosely trained on her as Datsun began quietly giving his group instructions she couldn't make out.
Scully went first to Mulder's side, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok?" she whispered. "Your ribs..."
"I'm alright, Scully," he said. Looking into his eyes, she confirmed it via their usual unspoken communication. Ok. He's ok. She'd go help the others.
Scully went quickly to the man who she'd seen lying in his own blood, fearing the worst. She crouched beside him, her fingers tucking under his neck in search of a pulse.
To her surprise, it was there. Weak, but steady. She rubbed his shoulder gently and he gave out a feeble moan.
"I'm here to help," Scully told him. "I need to move you so you can breathe better, just relax."
She gently guided his limbs to move him into the recovery position. As she rolled him over, Scully saw a large slice across his forehead. That's where all the blood had come from. Very sore no doubt, but unlikely he'd die from it.
She folded up her coat and tucked it under his head, blotting his forehead as best she could with one of the sleeves. Seeing the bleeding was already slowing a little now that he wasn't facedown, she crossed back to the rest of the group and checked them over. The workmen were badly bruised, but she couldn't see any serious damage.
While making a sling for the girl with the injured arm using her colleague's silk neckscarf, Scully whispered to her as quietly as she could.
"I'm Agent Scully, I'm with the FBI," she said under her breath. "Tell me what happened."
Still wiping tears from her face, the girl whispered back.
"They came out of the basement," she told Scully. "There was some kind of noise down there, and then a whole gang of them all came running up with guns! They came out front and had the doors locked before me and Gia," she looked to her colleague, "even knew what was happening."
Her sobs started up again. "Nearly everyone had left for the day already by then - I tried to phone the police but one of them got me by the arm before I could even dial... Oh God, are they going to kill us?"
"Just stay calm. Breathe slowly." Scully instructed her.
Hearing the sobbing, Datsun strolled over from where he'd stood watching.
"Not telling tales I hope?" he said, smiling as the girl's face blanched, white and terrified.
To distract him, Scully started firing out questions. "How did you get in here? How did you get into the basement?"
Mulder's analytical brain had already run through the data. "The storage place," he said. "You got through from the storage place across the road? What did you do, blow out their whole basement?"
The two underground premises must be lined up back to back. Scully remembered noticing the storage centre had been busy. They had been out in plain sight, bringing the stolen goods through without a care in the world. Who was going to question people with trucks coming and going from a storage unit?
Datsun seemed irritated by the questioning. "Top marks!" he said sarcastically. "And now to your prize for coming here and bugging me just when I was nearly gone without a hitch. Lights out!" He nodded to one of his crew.
There was no time to react. Stepping forward, the man brought his weapon down in a brutal jab. His rifle butt thudded heavily into the base of Mulder's skull and he slumped into unconsciousness.
"Leave him," Datsun ordered. "The Feds will pick him up whenever they bust in. The others can go, we've got what we came for."
Scully froze in place on the ground, breathing hard. Adrenaline pumped through her, along with fear for Mulder at the vicious blow she'd just seen him receive. Datsun dropped into a crouch before her.
"As for you..." he said thoughtfully, "I think you'll be coming with us. I could use a pet medic. Dangerous line of work we're in, you know." A flash of white teeth showed again as he grinned through his balaclava. Like a shark, Scully thought.
"I am a federal agent," she told him, her voice low and icy. "You are only going to make things worse for yourself than they already are if you do anything stupid. Let me and my partner go. He probably has a concussion and I need to get him treated."
Datsun didn't bother to respond. Rising easily to his feet again, he simply jerked his head at Scully and one of his thugs came looming over. "Easy way or hard way?" the man asked her. Glowering, faced with no choice, she allowed him to take her arm and march her along behind the rest of the balaclava brigade.
As they neared the basement entrance, Scully seized her moment to try and shake off her captor. Suddenly dropping her centre of gravity, she heaved her shoulders into his midriff as hard as she could. Surprised, he staggered back, his hand slipping from her arm. Scully gritted her teeth and sprinted as fast as she could for the main entrance.
For long seconds of heart-thumping freedom she raced towards the door. Then she felt her feet become weightless as she was snagged into the crush of a solid arm hauling her back, pinning her.
Sucking in a deep breath, Scully opened her mouth to scream out every decibel she could muster, hoping there might somehow be somebody in earshot.
Before she could even finish taking in air, a heavy hand clamped down across her lower face, as an arm squeezed her abdomen brutally, forcing the very breath out of her. "Hard way it is," her captor growled in her ear, dragging her back towards the basement. As she fought his hold, she felt a sudden sting in the side of her neck. Darkness closed over her vision and she fell into nothingness.