Genesis
Ally

Chapter 22

11:11p.m. Energize Inn Route 56 San Diego CA.

"So what now?"

Mulder regarded the two figures in front of him from his seated position on the bed and shook his head slowly. During the time since their arrival in San Diego, it had seemed as if Byers and Frohike were more concerned in seeing he took care of himself than in offering any practical help toward finding Scully. But now, after they had seen to it that he had been fed and watered, it appeared as though they were ready for action.

Despite his urgent need to get started in his quest, Mulder could not help but feel a certain amount of gratitude towards the two men. Even he had to admit that the shower, the good food, and the change of clothes they had insisted upon had done wonders for his physical and mental well being. The hospital seemed a million miles away, and aside from the niggling headache, he felt more or less back up to par.

This fact, though, didn't make finding a place to start any easier, and for a few seconds he did not answer.

"Mulder? Did you hear what I said?"

Mulder waved his arm in the air to show acknowledgement of Byer's words, whilst wracking his brain to find an acceptable answer. He had trawled through the events over and over in his mind for the better part of the day. In doing so, he seemed to always arrive at the same name as he remembered his partner's outright scepticism back at the E-Z 8 as she confronted him with her fears regarding the woman's story. More and more he was becoming sure that Scully's perturbation had not, as he had first thought, been misplaced. At the time, he had not given it much credence. Now he wasn't so sure, and suddenly, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

"You said Langly is waiting to hear from us back in DC?"

Frohike nodded.

"Yeah. We thought you might have more use of him there. He's waiting by the phone as we speak, fingers flexed, and ready for action."

"Well tell him to keep flexing," Mulder directed, "because I've got a real good one for him."

Frohike raised his eyebrows quizzically at Byers who ran his finger underneath his tightly buttoned shirt collar.

"What do you mean?"

Mulder grinned slightly.

"Just a little bit of a wander around a Federal database. There's some information I need regarding the woman I told you about. I need to know where she's being held."

"Hhmm, Federal snooping. I like it."

Mulder watched as Frohike began to dial, listening as he outlined his requirements to his unlikely colleague back in the Capitol, occasionally chipping in to offer additional information to make Langly's quest all the more easy to accomplish.

Finally, Frohike replaced the receiver, eyeing Mulder confidently.

"Consider it done. Fifteen minutes max. And he'll have everything you need to know."

Mulder shook his head ruefully as he wondered, not for the first time, if there really was any such thing as confidentiality anymore. The FBI database was supposed to be unbreakable, a hundred different fail safe devices in place to prevent exactly the kind of breach he had just requested. Fifteen minutes. Obviously fail-safe didn't have the same kind of significance anymore. At this moment though, he wasn't about to take offence regarding the Government's inadequate protection systems. Too much was at stake to allow indignation to surface.

Instead he focused on the cheap wood-effect clock that hung on the wall adjacent to him and watched the minutes tick by -- painfully conscious that every second that passed took him one second further away from his partner -- and at the same time hoping against hope, that the seconds were still ticking for her, that time hadn't suddenly ceased, willing Langly to get a move on.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. Not quite ten minutes had elapsed before the phone rang and he had to restrain himself in order not to snatch it up. He had already agreed that it was best for all concerned that his voice should not be heard over the airways. A precaution should he still be being watched. Instead he rose from his sitting position and hovered over Byers as he took the call. Finally, after much shaking of his head and murmured monosyllables, Byers took the receiver from his ear and pressed his hand over the mouthpiece.

"Langly hacked in to the Bureau's main frame as you requested but he's failed to turn up anything on Christine Stevens or her daughter. There's no case file on her supposed kidnapping either under the file number or the Agent of record. He also ran it against Wickham's case files and came up with zilch."

"That's impossible," Mulder cut in without giving Byers the chance to finish. "Wickham brought us down here. He sent me the case file across to DC; I held the damn thing in my hand. It has to exist somewhere. Tell Langly to run it again."

Byers didn't bother to argue. Mulder was vaguely conscious of his return to Langly, speaking the words that Mulder had demanded, but a thought had entered his head over the last few seconds. It was this thought that was now at the fore of his reasoning, hammering away, insisting he give it the credence it necessitated. Something was very wrong here and the more he thought about it, the uneasier he became.

He remembered how he had been so reluctant earlier to enlist the help of his old Academy buddy. A thought that had been based purely on blind instinct rather than any kind of tangible reasoning. And now, as he sat listening to the sound of Byer's voice, he mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. Something in his head had clicked, and suddenly everything fell in to place, like the pieces of a jigsaw slotting together.

Without hesitation he flew to his feet and grabbed the telephone from Byer's grasp, ignoring the look of amazement on the other man's face and disregarding the need to keep himself hidden from prying eyes and ears. It seemed irrelevant now.

"Langly, it's Mulder. I need you to check something for me. Dial in to the site files for the Department of Health and enter the name . . ." Mulder dragged his mind back, trying to remember accurately. "Little Sisters of Charity." <No, not charity.> "Mercy. Little Sisters of Mercy State Sanatorium. San Diego."

He shuddered as he remembered the empty, ill cared for, almost derelict state of the hospital and realised that, in his poor state of health, he had failed to realise the significance of the dereliction.

Scully had noticed it and he had effectively dismissed her, intent as he was on getting to the truth before it was neatly disposed of.

He focused back in on Langly as he realised that he had asked him a question.

He answered it through gritted teeth.

"All I need to know is when it was closed down, and who the lease was passed on to."

He listened for a couple more seconds and then nodded.

"OK. Thanks, Langly. Stay by the phone, I might need you later."

He cradled the receiver gently, almost reverently, and turned his attention to the two men stood before him, noting their twin expressions of bemusement.

"The hospital Scully and I were sent to by Wickham has not existed as a hospital for over five years. The lease was taken over by a Pharmaceutical company named Pramgen six months ago."

Frohike jumped visibly as Mulder slammed his palm down on to the table which housed the phone.

"They've played us all along. Scully saw it and I didn't. This has all been a part of an elaborate plan to get us down here. Orchestrated from the start. Maybe going back months, and I let them. I played right in to their hands."

He shook his head numbly.

"How could I have been so stupid?"

Without waiting for a response, Mulder grabbed his leather jacket which lay on the bed and shrugged it on hastily, motioning to Byers to follow him.

"C'mon, Byers. We're going out."

The older man balked visibly.

"Um, going out where, exactly?"

Mulder didn't look up from where he was rapidly scrawling a few words on to the back of a discarded drink coaster, thrusting it in to a startled Frohike when it was completed.

"This is where they've got Scully. The number next to it belongs to Assistant Director Skinner. Call him and tell him to meet us there. Frohike, you tell him that on no account is he to trust Agent Wickham. Tell him I'll explain everything when I see him. You got all that?"

Frohike nodded numbly, taken aback by the sudden rapid turn of events.

"C'mon, Byers, let's go. I don't think we've got much time left."

He held the door open for him to exit the room, and as he followed him to the car he sent up a silent prayer that whatever time they did have would be enough.

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