ELS Chapter 25 By Dawson E. Rambo Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and any other tangentially mentioned characters created by Chris Carter remain his copyrighted property, as well as the copyrighted property of 1013 productions and Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended. Posting Date : April 19, 1998 Archive Entry : "ELS" Chapter 25/25 Classification : SRA MSR Chapter Rating : R Story Rating : NC-17 Missing Chapters: http://www.sonic.net/~drambo/els.htm Casting : Russell Crowe, "Mark Dupree" Helen Hunt, "Deputy Inspector Alex Cahill" Matthew Modine, "Detective Sam Cross" Garth Brooks, "Detective Daryl Hicks" Danny Aiello, "Chief Zolinski" Author's Note: As most of the mailing list members and regular readers of alt.tv.x-files.creative are aware, I am fighting a bout of clinical depression; this is the reason that ELS 25 has taken so long to write. I deeply apologize for making you all wait, but I did want to have a better handle on my emotional problems before writing anything new. After coming this far, I didn't want to blow it. Now, then, the exciting conclusion to ELS. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Alex Cahill's Home "Oh, Goddamn that bastard to HELL!" Alex screamed. "W-what?" Sam asked. Alex glanced at him, hatred etched into her features. "Dupree just killed Daryl," she announced. Sam closed his eyes. Mulder's phone trilled. "Mulder." "It's me. We traced the signal." Mulder snapped his fingers, pointing at Alex and making a writing motion with his fingers. "Give me the address." "Uh, Mulder..." "Give it to me!" Mulder demanded. Frohike read the address he'd obtained from the Nynex database. Mulder disconnected without another word. "Time to go," he said to Alex. She caught his eyes, asking a silent question. Mulder nodded. Turning to Scully, he said, "Scully...stay with Sam." "Mulder-!" she started. He took two steps and squatted next to his partner. "Listen to me," he said urgently. "Alex and I have to...go. Something may happen when we try and arrest Dupree. We talked about this once before." Scully remembered the conversation they'd had in Alex's office, about how the ISU tended to...thin the herd. "It would be better for all involved if you didn't have to lie to protect me." Scully felt her anger flare at his presumption that she would even consider- And then she knew that he was right. She would lie to protect him. Now, more than ever. She nodded. "Go," she said softly, handing Mulder her pistol. "Do what you have to." He stood to leave, but she stopped him with one simple word. "Fox..." He turned back to her, his eyes tracking and finding hers. For a moment, Scully was nervous. He didn't look like himself; he looked like a feral animal on the hunt, a predator ready, eager, hungry to feed. And she was afraid for him, she realized. "Make sure you come back to me," she said softly. He nodded and left, Alex on his heels. Scully closed her eyes, trying to remind herself that it didn't count as a ditch. It didn't. She was angry, a little, that he had naturally assumed that she would have a moral and ethical problem with what he was going to do. The moral, rational part of her brain knew that it was murder, cold-blooded assassination. Mulder and Cahill were going to find a way to kill Mark Dupree, and there was nothing that Scully or Zolinski could do about it. But the part of Scully that she rarely admitted even existed was crying out more strongly than she had ever remembered. The last time she had been this angry, this worried about Mulder had been when they had first become partners. Luther Lee Boggs. She remembered standing in his Death Row prison cell, screaming at the top of her lungs at him, wanting him to know that she would have indeed pulled the switch herself. Mulder, she thought...I know why you have to do this. And, truth be told, a small part of Scully's heart was singing in joy that her man was going out to do battle with the forces of evil, that he wanted to protect her from the potential fallout. It didn't enter her mind that he thought her incapable, weak. Not anymore. Never again. Scully turned back to Sam, comforting him, her hand smoothing his hair. "I loved him," Sam said softly. Scully smiled. "I wasn't in love with-" "Shhh," Scully said. "I know what you mean. So did he. He knew, Sam." "How do you know?" "I just do," Scully promised. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= They made it to Dupree's basement hideout in less than six minutes with Alex driving. They entered the basement through the tenant access door, Mulder first, Alex backing him up. They found Darryl a moment later, still in the chair, just as he'd appeared on the monitor. Hoping against hope, Alex placed two fingers against his carotid artery. She held it there for a moment and shook her head. "He's gone." Mulder said nothing. His pistol was up, pointed out, his eyes sweeping the room. "He's not here," Mulder announced. "How do you know?" "I just do," Mulder said. Alex didn't argue. She started searching the basement. Filing cabinets filled three walls, six to a wall, four drawers each. She opened the first one she came to, pulling the drawer completely out, rifling through the contents. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Look at this!" Mulder joined her, his pistol still held at the ready, glancing over her shoulder. "What? It's an arrest report." "Yes...hundreds of them. All with photographs. And they're all..." Mulder took a better look. He saw what Alex meant. They were all vicious crimes, sexual murders, rapes, serial murders, spree killings. The photographs were gruesome, something Mulder had seen before. "What's that?" Cahill asked, pointing at one corner of a photograph. A dry, white film coated the edge. "If I didn't know better," Mulder said, and then thought better of it. He did know better, and it was what he thought it was. "That's semen," he announced. "Gah!" Alex said, dropping the photo. "That's..." "Normal for these guys," Mulder pointed out. "They get off on the violence and control. You know that." She nodded. "Still...it's...gross!" "Disgusting," Mulder agreed. "But well within the psychopathology of these guys." Alex shut the drawer with a slam. "Ok, now what? He's not here." Mulder holstered his pistol. They began to search in earnest. Mulder discovered it first. "Alex, know anything about computers?" "Just enough to know they hate me." Mulder dialed his cellphone. "Frohike," a voice answered. "Get over here," Mulder demanded. "Where?" "The address you gave me. We need your help." "Is-" "He's gone, Frohike. It's safe to come out and play." +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= The trio made it over in less than twenty minutes. "What's up?" Frohike asked. Mulder pointed at Dupree's computers. "I need those examined very, very carefully. Make sure there's no booby traps or anything, that he hasn't set the damn thing to erase if anyone messes with it. It's evidence." Frohike nodded and went to work. "Mulder," Byers said softly. Mulder glanced at him. "What?" "Shouldn't you call...the medical examiner or someone?" Byers looked over at Daryl's body. The smell of urine and feces was strong. Mulder's adrenaline rush had hidden the stench from his nose. "Not yet," Mulder ordered. "I'm not ready to call anyone yet." "Mulder," Byers said again. "He's...holding something." Mulder moved over to Daryl's body and looked down. Byers was right; Daryl Hicks was holding a small square of paper in his hands. Carefully, Mulder pulled it loose, turning it over in his hands to read it. ALPHA AND OMEGA. I AM THE BEGINNING AND THE END. CATCH ME IF YOU CAN. "What does it mean?" Alex asked. "It means," Mulder said, already moving, "that 10-to-1 I know where he's waiting for us, and if we get there first, we may surprise him." +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= En Route Mulder drove as Alex held on, grimacing as Mulder took corners on two wheels, the small red bubble light perched on the roof of the Explorer doing little to move the traffic. Mulder used the horn, the gas pedal, the brake...and when necessary, the sidewalk. "Are you sure about this?" Mulder asked. "About what-?" "What we're going to do. You know what's going to happen if we find Dupree." Alex glanced at the scenery screaming by, her decision already made. "The moment this shithead pulled the trigger on Daryl, Zolinski and the brass stopped being a factor. You just better hope you get the first clear shot, or I'm taking him out for you." "Bet me," Mulder said through gritted teeth. He'd come too far to have Alex take Dupree down. There was no way, no fucking way in hell that he was going to let that happen. Up ahead, a light turned yellow. "Hold on," Mulder said, flooring it. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Home of Leon King The first victim; the beginning and the end. It made perfect sense. Mulder had retrieved the red bubble light six blocks ago, and they'd forgone the siren twelve before that. The fact that they weren't driving a department-issue unmarked car was a good thing, they decided, and there was no reason to further announce themselves if they could at all help it. Mulder withdrew his weapon and checked it, then performed the same function on Scully's borrowed pistol. "Let's go," he said. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Deputy Inspector Alex Cahill picked the lock in record time. They pushed through the lobby door and stopped. Stairs or elevator? "Elevator could be a trap," Alex observed. "We'll be winded if we take the stairs," Mulder pointed out. "Elevator it is," Alex said, punching the button. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Nineteen stories above, in the elevator machine housing, Dupree smiled. Perfect. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Home of Alex Cahill The phone shocked Scully to her roots. Thinking it was Alex or Mulder, Scully snatched the receiver from its cradle and lifted it to her ear. "Scully." "Zolinski. Lemme have Alex," he commanded. Scully hesitated that one fraction of a second too long. "She's not here," she finally said. "Where is she?" Scully hesitated again. "Special Agent Scully," Zolinski growled. "What the fuck is going on?" "Sir, you'd better get over here," Scully said. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Home of Leon King The elevator lurched to a stop between the sixth and seventh floors. The lights flickered twice and then went out. "Oh, shit," Alex said. They turned back to back, pressing against each other, weapons trained high at the rescue hatch. A moment later the emergency phone rang. Mulder answered it, but didn't say a word. "I could kill you, you know," Dupree said gently. Mulder continued to listen, giving nothing away. "I could drop a grenade down the shaft. I could cut the cable. I could override the computer and release the brakes. It'd all be over in an instant." "You want to watch, Dupree. You want to see Alex and I die. That wouldn't be any fun...that wouldn't be sporting." The laugh was long and hearty. "How right you are, Agent Mulder. But I'm also not going to just allow you to come and kill me. You have to earn that right. And if you are half as cunning as I think you are, then you'll know the correct thing to do. I'll be waiting." The line clicked dead. Mulder dropped the phone, listening to it clank against the floor. "Now what?" Alex asked. "Now we get the hell out of here," Mulder said, holstering his pistol and tucking Scully's in at the small of his back. Crouching, he cupped his hands. Alex tucked her own weapon away and stepped into Mulder's cupped hands, reaching up to punch the escape hatch open. She fell back, drawing her weapon. A moment later a bright beam of light illuminated the shaft, and Alex almost fired. It took her a second to realize that the light wasn't coming from above. She turned to Mulder, amazed to see him gripping a tiny, powerful flashlight. "Never leave home without it," he said, smiling at her. Oh my Lord, Alex thought. I can why Scully is so head over- "Up, up and away," Mulder said, nodding towards the ceiling. Alex took the flashlight from hip, and gripping it in her teeth, once again stepped into the makeshift ladder formed by Mulder's hands. Taking a deep breath, Alex hoisted herself out of the elevator and into the dark shaft. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Home of Alex Cahill The pounding on the door was not Zolinski, as Scully had feared, but EMS. The paramedics entered and quickly took charge of the situation. As qualified as she was, Scully knew that the medics had much more training in prehospital trauma care and so she stepped back, offering only to start an IV when one of them had trouble finding a vein. Zolinski showed up moments later. Seeing one of his best detectives on his side, the bullet wound being tended to by the medics, Zolinski went ballistic. "WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?" he bellowed. Scully moved to him, taking him by the arm and leading him into the bedroom. "The killer made a move on us, sir," she started. "Where's Cahill? Where's Hicks?" he paused. "Where," he asked dangerously, "is Mulder?" "Mulder and Cahill believe they've traced the location of the UNSUB, sir, even though he's not an UNSUB anymore." Zolinski, who had been staring at his downed detective, turned his considerable anger and frustration on Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI. Detective Sam Cross, still very conscious, closed his eyes and gently shook his head. Bad move, Chief. Scully listened to his tirade with her arms crossed for all of about ten seconds. In the middle of his arm-waving, forehead-vein- popping screaming, she simply raised her hand in a "stop motion." Amazing everyone in the room, Zolinski fell silent. "Are you going to stand here screaming at me, which may make you feel better, or are you going to do something constructive besides making sure that everyone in this room knows you are the big dog? Because, if you're going to continue shouting, I can find better things to do with >my< time, including trying to track down my errant partner and Alex Cahill." Scully hesitated and then gave Zolinski an eyebrow lift. "Well, Chief? What's it going to be? Posturing or productivity?" Sam Cross bit his lip. Despite the pain, he had to struggle not to laugh. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Leon King's Apartment Building Mulder grunted and groaned and finally succeeded in hoisting himself out and into the elevator's roof. Cahill glanced up. They were stuck directly between floors. The doors opening onto the seventh floor were more than ten feet above her head. Leaning down and peering at the doors leading to six, Cahill saw that they were just as far away. "Up or down?" she asked. "Down," Mulder said without thinking. "We'll never make it up. The only way to do it is to inch up that greasy cable and then swing over. We'll break our necks trying." "How the hell do we get down?" Cahill asked. "Follow me," Mulder said. "Didn't you ever see `Speed?'" Walking to the edge of the car, Mulder leapt onto the supporting frame of the shaft. There was perhaps eighteen inches between the edge of the elevator car and the wall. Pressing his hands and toes against the car, he slowly inched his way down. Moving as slowly as he dared, Mulder ended up facing the bottom lip of the car. Just as he suspected, there were thick cables and wires leading from the bottom of the car. He reached out and grabbed the first metal cable he could reach. Taking a deep breath, he let go with his feet. Don't look down, he thought. Don't look down. He looked. And immediately regretted it. Six and a half stories of elevator shaft greeted his terrified gaze. The shaft started swaying and then spinning, and Mulder was sure he was going to be sick. "How is it?" Alex asked. "Whatever you do," Mulder gasped wetly, "Don't look down." Mulder took a lungful of air and closed his eyes. Just get down, he thought. Just get down. Hand-over-hand, he inched his way through the cables and wires to the other side of the car. It was a nine-foot drop to the ledge of the sixth floor. Mulder concentrated, slowly swinging his legs back and forth, keeping his knees tightly pressed together. He began picking up momentum, and at the precise moment he was afraid that he would overshoot and drop, Mulder let go. His feet hit the doors to the sixth floor and slid down, screeching. His hands flew out and captured the lip on either side, instantly arresting his descent. "Mulder?" Alex called. "Just...a...second," Mulder gasped, praying that his sweaty hands would hold on. Struggling to find purchase, Mulder closed his eyes and concentrated, willing his fingers to grip the suddenly slippery metal. Slowly, his body began to cooperate. His body stopped vibrating, his muscles slowly ceased throbbing. Ok, Mulder, he thought, all ya gotta do is slide your foot over, hit the door release and pry them open. Piece of cake. The moment he moved, Mulder's hands slipped. He saw the doors to six flying by his nose and screamed, knowing that this was it, that Dupree had won, that he was going to end up as a bloody pile of goo at the bottom of the shaft. Oddly, time slowed to a crawl. He noticed several things at once. First, the loose, liquid feeling of his bowels. God no, he thought. Don't let me shit my pants in fear. That's the last thing he wanted Scully's final memory of him to be: A bloody, broken pile of bones that had crapped its pants. The jarring stop almost made Mulder scream. His fingers had somehow found the bottom lip of the sixth floor entrance. For the moment, at least, he wasn't falling. Mulder had a sudden thought. "Oh, God, Alex...I'm so sorry," he cried down the shaft. Above, Alex heard what Mulder had said and opened her mouth to reply before thinking better of it. She had an idea where Mulder was going with this, and decided to play along. "She's dead," Mulder said, his voice louder than it should have been in the shaft. He's playing to an audience, Alex thought. Does he see Dupree? Mulder, still gripping the bottom edge, realized that his fingers were only inches from the door release. Only one chance to get this right, he thought. Levering his left hand over, he gripped the ledge with the pinky and ridge, cocking his elbow and using his toes to inch himself up. At the last moment, Mulder reached over with his right hand and punched the release lever. He heard the gears unlock, and the counterweight did its work. The doors slid open. Revealing a pair of sneaker-clad feet. Glancing up, Mulder stared into the eyes of Mark Dupree. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Alex Cahill's House The EMS workers had transferred Sam Cross to the scoop stretcher and were carefully lifting him onto the ambulance gurney. Scully had given Zolinski the details of what she knew. "So where are they?" Zolinski demanded. "I don't know," Scully admitted, shrugging. "Well, who DOES?" Scully grabbed her cell and dialed. There was no answer. Digging into her pocket, Scully found the small case she carried everywhere she went. She was one of the few women she knew who didn't carry a purse, and since her FBI credentials served very well for identification in most cases, she had all but stopped carrying a wallet. The small vinyl case held six credit cards and a small, business-card sized sheet of laminated paper. It was a list of phone numbers she might need from time to time, numbers she called so infrequently that they were not in her speed dial. She found Byer's portable number and quickly dialed it. "Byers," his voice answered. "It's Scully. I need the address." +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= "Too bad Inspector Cahill couldn't make it," Dupree sneered. "I was looking forward to killing her." Mulder didn't say a word. He was concentrating on not falling. "Just as I'm looking forward to killing you," Dupree added. "What? Don't you want to tell me your evil plan for ridding the world of criminals that shouldn't enjoy the protection of the government? The same criminals that killed your wife?" Dupree's eyes darkened. "You don't know anything about that," Dupree said. "You don't know-" "The hell I don't," Mulder wheezed, trying to lever himself up a little more. If I can just get my hands up... "You don't know dick," Dupree said again. "My partner..." Mulder gasped. "Scully..." "The redhead," Dupree asked. Mulder heard a noise behind him and realized what was happening. Alex Cahill was following his path, inching down the far side of the car, completely out of Dupree's view. Be careful, Alex, he thought. Please. I need you. "Scully was kidnapped a few years ago...by men in power, Dupree. I know exactly how you feel." "What?" Dupree sneered. "Powerless? Helpless?" "Hardly," Mulder grunted, lifting himself another inch. "Betrayed." Mulder heard a soft grunt behind him and prayed that Dupree hadn't heard it as well. "You put your faith in these men, in their rules of civilized society. The good go free while the bad, the evil get punished. Only it didn't work that way for your wife, and it didn't work that way for Scully." "What happened to her?" Dupree asked. "She came back, unlike my wife." "That's true," Mulder said, trying to remember if Alex was left or right handed. He needed to move to the side to give her a clear shot. "So what happened to her?" Dupree asked again. "They returned her after three months. She had no memory of her time away." "That's science fiction," Dupree said. "I know it sounds like bullshit, but it's the truth. She was gone for three months. When she got back, she had no memory of her time." "I wish I could have been so...lucky," Dupree said softly. "But every day I remember my wife as she was. Before. How wonderful she was, how much we loved each other. And they took that from us!" "From me," he added. "You got yours back," Dupree continued. "Your partner came back. It's not the same as a wife anyway. You got yours back. I WANT MY WIFE BACK!" Dupree stepped back from the edge and drew his pistol. Mulder heard the ratchet of the slide as Dupree chambered a round. "IT IS THE SAME!" Mulder screamed. Dupree paused. "Why?" "Because Scully and I...we're more than partners," Mulder whispered. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Zolinski had spent six years as a Sergeant assigned to the Highway Unit of the NYPD. Highway cars are not the same blue-and-white marked units that are assigned to precincts. They have high-performance pursuit-quality engines, and the officers assigned to Highway attend the United States Secret Service EVOC (Emergency Vehicle Operators Course) after joining the unit, and every two years thereafter for as long as they are assigned. This guy, Scully thought to herself, knows how to >drive<. Mulder had taken her on more than once chase in their time together, but Zolinski drove his car like it was an extension of his body. He seemed to be able to >will< the traffic to move around him. He used the siren sparingly, depending instead on the blip-blip of the electronic air horn. They made it to the location of the Leon King murder in less than six minutes. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Dupree squatted next to Mulder's hands. "You...and that pretty little redhead?" "What about us?" "You're in love?" Mulder nodded, glancing down. He immediately regretted it. He could see Alex Cahill's dangling feet. She was to the middle of the elevator car. Just a few more seconds, he thought. "How cozy," Dupree said snarmily. "It has it's good points," Mulder said reasonably. God, my fingers are tired. "I'm sure it does, Mulder. But that's neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is, you have come here not to arrest me, but to kill me. And I was only doing what was necessary, what was ordained by God." "An eye for an eye?" Mulder asked, stalling for more time. "How can you ask me that? Your own government uses the death penalty. This country has a soft spot in its heart for revenge. Every time some tin-pot dictator pisses off the sitting President, the Air Force sends bombers over to level his tent or his hut or whatever. Don't preach to me, Agent Mulder. I know how the ISU works. You want to kill me." Mulder said nothing. Dupree straightened, leveling his pistol. "Goodbye, Agent Mulder." +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Zolinski's LTD Crown Victoria ground to a halt in a collage of screeching brakes and smoking tires. In the distance, Scully could hear the sirens of the responding ESU units. Zolinski had called out the cavalry, and they were coming to beat the band: One of their own was in trouble. Scully reached for her gun and realized she'd given it to Mulder. Zolinski handed her his own backup piece. Pistols drawn, Scully and Zolinski entered the building. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Dupree's head jerked up. "What is...?" he asked. At that moment, Alex Cahill made her move. One hand clutching the wires and cables underneath the elevator car, the other gripping her pistol, Alex swung her legs out, bringing her center of mass over just enough. She had time for one single shot. She saw Mulder's body and realized she was aiming too low. Dupree's head turned back to look at Mulder. Shit! Alex thought. She fired. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Zolinski and Scully were standing in front of the elevator. Zolinski had punched the button sixty times in the last four seconds. Scully, glancing up at the floor display, saw that it wasn't lit. "Chief, I don't think it's working," Scully said. He glanced at the display and grunted. "Shit." From inside the shaft, they heard Alex's shot. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= The shot took Dupree low in the shoulder, exiting high. Screaming, he fell back, firing wildly. Mulder cringed, waiting for it, waiting for the bullet to impact against his head or his hands. It wouldn't take much. Just a light grazing and he'd fall to his death. Dupree staggered back and turned to run. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Scully and Zolinski turned towards the fire stairs. Scully went through first. At that moment, the first responding ESU units hit the door. Draped in ballistic body armor and carrying assault weapons, they swarmed over the lobby. One of them pinned Zolinski with his MP-5. "FREEZE!" he shouted. "I'm on the job!" Zolinski screamed, his pistol held high, his other hand digging for his shield. "I'm on the job!" The cop waited patiently, knowing that if the man in front of him returned with anything but a credentials case, the finger wrapped loosely around the trigger of the MP5 was going to take out the four pounds of slack and put three rounds into the man's chest from a distance of six feet. Zolinski's fingers fumbled the case in his pocket once, twice, and then found purchase. He unfolded it with two shaking fingers and held it aloft. "Chief Zolinski!" he screamed. The ESU cop lowered his weapon. "What the-" "Up there!" Zolinski said, pointing at the stairs. "MrKnife!" ESU responded. As a unit, all seven officers turned and assaulted the staircase. They did it the way they'd been taught: One man went through the door and rolled left, the next one right, their weapons pointed at specific coordinates. They moved with jerky, almost robotic movements. A choreographed dance of death. Scully was already on the third landing, heading up. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Mulder heaved himself up and immediately turned, his stomach flat on the floor, leaning out with his hand. "Alex! Take my hand!" he called. Alex realized she was going to have to drop her weapon. She let it go with a soft curse and then swung back and forth, building momentum. At the last moment possible she let go and reached, realizing that she had only one chance, that if Mulder missed she would... He caught her hand, grunting with the effort. He started inching back, pulling her as hard as he could. As soon as Alex had her free hand on the lip of the doors, he heaved and she levered. They ended up in a tangle of arms and legs on the sixth-floor carpet. "Where did he go?" Alex asked, standing. "Fire stairs!" Mulder yelled, tossing her Scully's pistol. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= As any police officer can tell you, things like this tend to happen all at once. One moment, you're chasing a wounded suspect, the next, everything turns to shit. Which, of course, is exactly what happened. Scully was rounding the fourth-floor landing. Dupree, hearing the commotion, realized what was happening and opened the door to the fifth floor and stepped inside. Scully headed up to five, turned, and realize too late that something or someone was behind her. She felt his hand clamp around her neck at exact moment she heard him whisper "BITCH!" in her ear. She heard Mulder and Cahill above her, descending quickly. This was going to shit, she thought. Over the sound of her own breathing, Dupree's labored, painful gasps, Mulder and Cahill, Scully also heard the heavy bootbeats of the ESU team ascending, and behind them, the shouts of Zolinski. "Don't move," Dupree ordered. She felt the press of a pistol against her kidney and froze. "FREEZE!" the lead ESU officer screamed. Mulder spun around the landing, half a floor above, his pistol held in two hands. Alex skidded to a stop on his heels. "Checkmate," Dupree said. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Nothing happened for perhaps five full seconds. Everyone stared at Scully and Dupree. Scully stared at Mulder, willing him to do something, anything to get her out of Dupree's grip. "No one moves, or the bitch gets it," Dupree said, and then laughed. What a clich‚, he thought. Alex, standing six inches away from Mulder, felt him tense. "Aw, fuck me," he whispered. "Very clever, Agent Mulder. Lulling me into believing that Inspector Cahill had fallen to her death. Very clever. I should have known it was a ruse when the scream didn't sound like a girl's scream." Despite the situation, despite the panic they both felt, Mulder and Scully locked eyes and a pair of conversations held long ago flew through their minds. Are you sure it wasn't a girly scream, Mulder? They smiled each other. And in that moment, Scully knew how this was all going to end. Mulder started down the steps slowly. "I said freeze, Mulder," Dupree said, almost conversationally. He fully expected Mulder to stop where he was and await further orders. After all, that was the way it always happened, wasn't it? He had the hostage and the gun, so he made the rules. Only Mark Dupree never counted on Fox Mulder. It was Roche all over again, Modell one more time. Mulder, sick and tired of playing the game by the rules that the madmen themselves made, chose this one time to ignore them completely. And since he was walking, almost >strolling< down the stairs, not moving quickly, not blitzing him, Dupree had no time to realize what was happening until it was almost over. Mulder simply walked down the last four steps, placed the barrel of his pistol against Dupree's forehead and pulled the trigger. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= The shot was loud, abrupt. Everyone watched, gape-jawed and shocked, as Dupree crumpled to the ground. Scully staggered forward and fell into Mulder's embrace, wrapping her arms around his back. Mulder held her for a second and then gently pushed her away, knowing that Scully would be embarrassed to show that kind of emotion in front of all these people. Surprising them both, Scully held on even tighter, burying her face against Mulder's chest. The embrace was broken by the arrival of Zolinski. Pushing past the ESU team, Zolinski hit the landing and stopped, staring down at Dupree's dead body. "What happened?" he demanded. "I killed him," Mulder said softly. Zolinski's eyes flickered to Cahill. He met a jut-jawed stare that defied him to ask any more questions. "Who's in command here?" Zolinski demanded. Everyone exchanged glances. "Uh, you are, Chief," the ESU Team Leader said. "That's RIGHT!" Zolinski confirmed. "And if any of you want to have a career in this department after tonight, no one will say a word about what happened here until I talk to them." He looked in each man's eyes, holding the stare for a long moment. "Is that clear?" Mumbles of assent greeted his demand. "Someone call EMS," Zolinski ordered. "And get the Crime Scene Unit and the Deputy Medical Examiner." "Don't forget the press," someone said quietly. Zolinski ignored it. Together, Zolinski, Cahill, Mulder and Scully made their way downstairs. Emerging into the street, they found a circus. EMS had already responded, answering the calls of the tenants that had overheard the gunfire. Precinct blue-and-whites were parked haphazardly on the street, doors open, bubble lights still flashing. At the corner, a WCBS-TV news truck noses onto the sidewalk, spilling crew onto the street. Zolinski tapped Mulder on the shoulder. "Thanks," he said simply, offering his hand. Mulder shook it and smiled shyly. "Anytime, Chief." Zolinski shook his head. "No more for me, Mulder. This was my last hurrah. I'm retiring." He cocked his head towards Cahill. "Gotta make way for the up-and-comers." Casey Tan pushed her way through the crowds of cops and onlookers, a microphone clutched in one hand. Thrusting it into Zolinski's face, she yelled her question. "CHIEF! DOES THIS MEAN THE REIGN OF TERROR-" Zolinski held his hands up, stopping Casey in her tracks. "I'll have a statement shortly. For right now, all I can tell you is that the man known as MrKnife was tracked to this location by a joint task force of the FBI and NYPD, and in a confrontation with police, was regrettably killed. Other than that, for right now I have no comment." Scully's hand found Mulder's. Tugging on his fingers, she smiled up at him. "Let's go home," she said softly. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Epilogue Detective First Grade Daryl Hicks was given an Inspector's Funeral by the New York Police Department. He was awarded both the Combat Cross and the Medal of Valor, the NYPD's highest decoration. His gold Detective's shield was retired so that no other detective would ever be able to wear it, and the original shield was mounted on a plaque in the lobby of One Police Plaza, surrounded by those of his brother and sister officers who were felled in the line of duty. Detective First Grade Sam Cross was medically retired from the Bureau of Detectives and hired back as an investigative consultant by the citywide Major Case Squad of the New York Police Department. He lectures at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice, CCNY, Iona College and Fordham Law School, as well as at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center and the FBI Academy. As a result of the injuries sustained on the night that Mark Dupree was apprehended, Sam Cross will spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Deputy Inspector Alex Cahill was promoted to Inspector, making her the youngest member of the department so promoted in its one- hundred year history, male or female. She retained command of the Citywide Major Case Squad and continues to serve as Commanding Officer. Chief Zolinski retired six days after the capture of Mark Dupree. He moved to Boca Raton, Florida, and serves as the Chief of the Boca Raton Auxiliary Police Force, a volunteer position. Hours before his retirement, Zolinski was interviewed by both the Internal Affairs Bureau of the NYPD and the Office of Professional Responsibility from the FBI. His statement as to the events that occurred in the building previously inhabited by Leon King were immediately sealed. The commanding officer of the ESU team that responded to Zolinski's call for help was similarly interviewed by IAD and the OPR, and his statement (along with the statements of all the ESU team members,) were also sealed. The Manhattan District Attorney's office, after reviewing the statements of Inspector Alex Cahill, Chief Zolinski and the entire ESU team declared that the "death by gunshot" of one Mark Dupree was, in fact, justified use of deadly force by a law enforcement officer under New York State Law and issued a finding that the case would not be presented to the Grand Jury seeing as how the life of a federal law enforcement officer was in clear and present danger and that Special Agent Fox William Mulder acted within the guidelines set forth under law. The OPR found similarly that Special Agent Mulder acted within policy. A note was entered into his personnel file stating such. Special Agent Mulder kept his word to Casey Tan and laid the entire case out for her. Realizing that if she were to air the story that Chief Deputy Marshall Deputy Everett would most likely be terminated with cause, Casey elected to air only a portion of the story, winning her both a local Emmy award for Deadline News Reporting and a New York Broadcasting Association "Newsie" for the same category. Chief Deputy Marshall Tim Everett was promoted to District Chief Deputy Marshall and transferred to Headquarters, United States Marshals Service, Washington, DC. He is still married. Special Agents Mulder and Scully were shortly transferred back to the X-Files. SAC Tony Littleton wrote a letter of commendation and thanks for the services that Special Agents Mulder and Scully rendered with their temporary assignment to the Investigative Support Unit. The Office of Professional Responsibility elected not to pursue what had come to be internally known as "The Tucson Incident." THE END