*~*~*~*~*~* Connected by Lovesfox *~*~*~*~*~* lovesfox@rogers.com Headers in Part 1 *** Part 6 of 12 Lone Gunmen's Headquarters Monday 11:10 PM They had not been inside more than a minute when Scully heard the first of Frohike's thoughts. Vaguely sexual in nature, of course. <> Torn between amusement and embarrassment, she avoided the little man's gaze, and Mulder's as well, moving away from them both. Her partner had not reacted outwardly or mentally, thus she could not tell if he had picked up Frohike's thought or not. Mulder's greeting to the Gunmen revised her musings. "I'd be careful with my thoughts, boys," Mulder said with unnecessary and exaggerated exuberance. "Especially you, Frohike." At their puzzled expressions, he expanded with, "Scully's armed and dangerous." More confusion, from all three. Stuttered words, glances exchanged. <> Byers thought came through, his concern evident. Scully hoped her flinch at receiving the comment had not been noticed by anyone. Despite the fact that both she and Mulder had been 'hearing' people off and on since the discovery of their newfound ability, she was still not used to being witness to the thoughts of others. The cacophony of voices in her mind at the two airports, and during their flight into Dulles had been overwhelming -- both she and Mulder had felt bombarded. Vague thoughts from every walk of life, from excited children to bored employees, had continually flitted through her mind. The worst experience had been the rather harmless appearing man who had begun cataloging the attributes of any female in the vicinity -- in rather lewd terms -- as they waited to board the plane. Despite his own wandering, appreciative eye, Mulder's thoughts in reaction had run similar to hers, if slightly more aggressive in nature. Shutting everyone out had been difficult, but she had managed with effort. It was exhausting, and had left her tense and irritable. Unfortunately, a headache of epic proportions had resulted, and continued to build as she strained not to eavesdrop on others. She was finding it a greater challenge with those she knew, the Gunmen in particular it seemed, as she continued to pick up stray thoughts from all three men. Her exhaustion certainly did not help either. She wanted nothing more than to go home, ice her ankle again, and get some much needed sleep. Childish as it seemed to procrastinate, she would worry tomorrow about how they were going to deal with it all. "Strange doesn't even begin to cover it, Byers," Mulder remarked, startling her from her reverie. He moved deeper into the room, to where Byers and Langly were standing near the computer stations. She saw Byers blink, clearly startled, and felt a rush of sympathy as he stuttered, "But...but I didn't--" "Say anything out loud," Mulder finished for him. "I know." He flashed the dapper Gunman a wry grin. "Sit down, guys," he said briskly, the smile gone as quickly as it had come, gesturing for Frohike to join them. Once the third Gunman had taken a seat like the other two, he said, "Have we got a story for you." Scully followed and climbed onto a vacant stool, propping her elbow on the long counter, her chin in her palm. This was going to be interesting. They hadn't really discussed exactly how they were going to tell the Gunmen about their mind-reading capabilities, only that they would. It was the one thing they had kept from the story they had related to Skinner. Mulder glanced at her then, cocking his head to the side. Silently asking permission to continue on. Her raised eyebrow granted it; this was his show. <> Scully's gaze flicked to Frohike briefly at his thought, and found the little man staring at her with a somewhat lascivious glint in his eyes. She felt her cheeks go warm, and instinctively brought her hand up to her forehead, looking down at the countertop. Unsure as to whether she should say anything or remain quiet. Her partner had no qualms about commenting. "Two strikes, Frohike," Mulder warned, a half-smile playing about his mouth. "You don't want to get Scully angry, she just might shoot you." He paused, then added, "Trust me. I know." His tone was evidence of his amusement, the words teasing. She had looked up when he spoke, and he met her gaze, sending her a thought. <> Damn her fair skin, she blushed again, shifting her eyes away once more. She could feel the weight of his gaze, still upon her. "All right!" Frohike exclaimed then, breaking the awkward spell between her and Mulder. "What is with you two?" The little man's jaw was thrust forward pugnaciously as he looked from Mulder to her and back again. "You gonna share this so-called story with us or what?" Mulder sent her a knowing smirk, and then turned to face Frohike, one hand going to his hip as he leaned against the counter. "First let me ask if you guys have anything on Vladimir Kushov." "Dude must have lain low," Langly responded to the query, pushing his glasses up his nose with a quick stab of one finger. "Wasn't much for us to find." Byers took over then, clearing his throat softly to gain their attention. "As you know, Vladimir Anatoli Kushov is Russian, born in Moscow in 1949. He immigrated here to the U.S. in the late 80's, just before the independent republics emerged. Already a highly regarded neurologist, he pursued his Ph.D. in Molecular and Cellular Biology at Harvard, graduating Magna Cum Laude." Pausing momentarily, Byers stroked his beard, perhaps formulating his next thoughts. "It appears Dr. Kushov's research was primarily on electrochemical patterns of the human brain. He published several papers, the last in late 1999, but has been very quiet this last year." The dapper Gunmen completed the polished narration with a rueful twist of his lips and a quick nod of his head. It was Frohike's turn then. "That address you gave us?" he said, head swiveling to look from her to Mulder. "Nothing funky there. Medical building leased to the same corporation for twenty years. And before you ask, the corporation checks out." The little man shrugged, and continued. "Kushov rents the lab space, has for the last six months. No problems with rent, et cetera, et cetera." Another shrug, this one apologetic. "He seems clean, Mulder." Scully had been watching Mulder during the Gunmen's recitations, and noted her partner did not seem overly surprised at the information they had disclosed. His lower lip jutted out as he stroked his index finger along it, a pose he affected when deep in thought. None that she was reading, however. After another moment or so, her partner cleared his throat and straightened up. Slipping into lecturer's mode, he began with a recap. "After Dr. Kushov's call to the X-Files office this morning, I called you guys and had you run a check on him." All three Gunmen nodded, and Mulder continued. "Scully and I went to the medical building just before nine a.m. and were met in the lobby by the good doctor. The rather nervous good doctor, I might add. We had only been inside the lab a few minutes when the door was kicked in and black-clad commandos entered. Both Scully and I were incapacitated by a gas they sprayed, but not before we were both injected by Kushov." Frohike bristled plainly, his eyebrows knit together. "Injected with what?" "That we don't know, Frohike," Mulder replied. "Hopefully we'll be able to find out with the blood tests Scully ordered." He paused, shrugged his shoulders slightly, then resumed. "We woke up several hours later in an abandoned warehouse outside of Roanoke, Virginia." He met her gaze, one eyebrow cocking upward. <> Mulder's thought caught her off-guard, and she startled visibly, searching his eyes. Which shone with humor and mischief. "Mulder?" <> Unsure, Scully shot a quick glance at the three Gunmen. Byers had a pensively curious look on his face as he watched them, his gaze moving from Mulder to her and back again. Langly and Frohike appeared equally puzzled. On the spot, uncomfortably so, her voice was faint at first. "We made our way--" Stopping, she cleared her throat before starting again. "We made our way to a gas station on the outskirts of Cave Springs, and called Skinner and then the three of you." Her eyes flicked to Mulder, saw that he was regarding her expectantly. She felt a tiny surge of annoyance at him for wanting her to finish the story, and mentally sent him a terse question. <> He shrugged, and answered her aloud. "It will be more real, more believable, if it's from you. More proof for them." "What will be more believable?" Frohike exclaimed in an exasperated tone. "Proof of what?" Belligerence sang in the set of his shoulders, the jut of his chin. In every line of his body. "Will you just spill it, for Chrissakes?" Mulder waved his hand at her in a 'do it' sort of gesture and she frowned at him. Clearing her throat once more, she said, "While making our way to the gas station, Mulder and I made a discovery. A discovery about an amazing ability we now share." Stopping, she tried to formulate her next words. <> "Mulder, stop it!" Scully snapped crossly, glaring at him. "This isn't easy, and you're making it harder on me." She didn't understand her own reluctance to inform the Gunmen of the miraculous discovery -- she knew they would believe unquestionably, would not doubt her. Yet it was difficult, and Mulder's pushing was not helping at all. After shooting a last, quelling look at Mulder, she returned her gaze to the Gunmen, and saw that Frohike's eyes were impossibly wide behind the lenses of his glasses. She was fairly certain he, if not all three of them, had figured out what she was trying to tell them. Their next words confirmed it. "You guys can--" Frohike, his voice stunned. "Read each other's--" Langly interjected excitedly. He was twitching, his fingers dancing on his knees as his stool moved back and forth from the tiny movements of his body. "Minds," Byers finished, his tone both sober and awed. Rising from his seat and walking slowly towards Mulder, he repeated the declaration. "You can read each other's minds." Scully opened her mouth to correct their conclusion, but Mulder beat her to it. "Not just each other's," he said quietly, an odd half-smile on his lips as he rocked infinitesimally on his heels. "Everyone's." Frohike fell off his stool. Unintentional comic relief, it broke the strange, tense silence that had immediately fallen over the room after Mulder's amending confirmation of their ability. Mulder barked out a laugh as Langly pointed and chortled, "Dude!" Scully could not help the snort that escaped, though she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling guilty. Sliding from her stool, she moved around the counter to check that he was all right. "Frohike?" In time to see the smaller man fighting off Byers' assistance, the dapper Gunmen more concerned than amused. "Back off, would you, Byers? I'm fine," Frohike grumbled, and struggled to his feet. Avoiding her gaze. "I'm touched by your concern," he said loudly, sending a dirty look in Mulder and Langly's direction. Frohike made a show of righting his clothes, still not looking at her at all. <> A sudden realization struck Scully. Frohike was concerned about any of his thoughts about her that she might have heard. She was again at a loss as to how to proceed -- how to make him see that she understood, was not angry. Feeling Mulder's gaze upon her, she turned her head to see him regarding her with sympathy. He shrugged and shook his head slightly. <> She nodded and returned to her stool, though she did not sit down, careful to keep her expression blank. It didn't help that Frohike was now broadcasting the same thought over and over. <> "Sorry, dude," Langly said then, coming over to slap Frohike on one shoulder. The male version of a commiserative hug. The other Gunman waved it off, muttering a half-hearted, "Punkass." All was forgiven. Byers spoke up. "Can we test this...this ability? We should document it." Moving to one of the terminals, he sat down and began tapping at the keyboard. "We have associates with a set-up the Rhine Institute would envy." Scully groaned mentally, taking her seat after all. Weary in body and spirit. She pictured herself and Mulder with the electrodes of an electroencephalograph attached to their temples, wires trailing. Testing each other with flash cards. Eying the counter askance, she wondered if the guys would be offended if she just rested her head on it and took a brief nap... "Contact them, Byers," Mulder said. "Make arrangements for first thing tomorrow morning." Her partner's response surprised her, as she had assumed he would be eager to immediately document the evidence of their mind-reading capabilities. She was as well, but just not at that moment. "You can reach me at Scully's, either on her landline, or on my new cell." He rattled the number off from memory. Scully raised an eyebrow at him, sent a silent query. <> He cocked his own eyebrow, and replied in her mind. <> "I'm on it, Mulder," the Gunman replied. "Appreciate it, guys," Mulder said, coming over to rest his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Come on, Scully. I think we need to call it a day." She rose slowly and followed him to the door, Langly at their heels to lock up behind them. "Good night, guys," she said, and heard Byers mumbled response. Langly nodded, and Frohike called out his good night, not yet able or willing to meet her eyes. His thought reached her as she stepped over the threshold. <> The shutting of the door most likely muffled Mulder's shouted, "Frohike, watch your mind!" Guiding her down the metal staircase, he flashed her a grin at the bottom. "So, can I tuck you in, Scully?" She had no chance to formulate a response. Something hard jabbed into her neck as a steely arm wrapped around her upper chest, hauling her up on her toes, tight against an equally hard form. A figure, clad in armor of some sort. Holding her nearly motionless, unable to turn her head or find any leverage. "Don't move," a voice hissed in her ear. Another jab punctuated the order. <> she cried mentally, and heard his panicked reply. <> *** Unknown Location Unknown Time The restraints were digging painfully into his wrists, and his right arm was nearly numb from the pressure of most of his body weight upon it. He was lying on his right side on the hard metal floor, with his ankles bound by some sort of cord or wire, similar to that which bound his hands, and his legs semi-bent, knees towards his chest. After being relieved of his cell phone and gun -- *again* -- he had been shoved into what he had determined was either a panel or a small cube van, and warned not to move. Or Scully would receive a jolt from a stun gun. The object that he assumed had also been pressed into his neck when they had been grabbed. His partner was in equal discomfort and pain -- her thoughts had been broadcasting those very facts to him for some time. She had also received a similar threat concerning his possible acquaintance with a stun gun. Apparently their comfort, or the lack thereof, was of no concern to their captors. His one attempt to speak to 'Them' had resulted in another sharp jab in his neck from the weapon, and a harshly uttered command, "No talking." The 'or else' had been implied, of course. Mulder was aware of Scully both physically and mentally. She had joined him in the van immediately following his less-than- gentle entry, and had rolled into his back with some force, confirming his assumption that she had been treated with equal roughness. He had attributed the movements she had then made to an attempt at easing her discomfort. Which had yielded only another terse warning not to move. They had both been still since. Very still, he realized. Too still. Concern had him tensing, sending a semi-frantic thought to his partner. <> She shifted against him, poking his lower back with either a knee or an elbow -- which elicited a grunt in reaction -- and responded with an answering thought. <> <> <> <> An unintended pun. Even as they were carrying on their silent conversation, he was musing at how easy it had become to do so. Earlier, it had seemed that if Scully were tense or uncomfortable, she unintentionally or naturally blocked his incoming thoughts and her own outgoing ones. Yet it was not the case now, though the conditions were certainly far from relaxed or comfortable. Oddly enough, he had not picked up any thoughts at all from the commandos who had just kidnapped them. Nothing. It was very puzzling. He wondered if they had somehow been trained to block themselves from transmitting any thoughts. To not think. Scully thought-spoke again. <> Always suspicious by nature, the Gunmen had several strategically placed video cameras around their building. There was a good chance he and Scully's abduction had been witnessed by the three, and that they had already contacted Skinner. <> The motion of the van changed then, as if the vehicle had taken a long, slow left turn, and their bodies shifted to one side before resettling. He cocked his head, straining to hear something, anything, but could only make out the sounds of Scully's quickened, nervous breathing. That matched his own. A moment later the van braked sharply, shooting them both forward several inches. He bumped into hard metal, and imagined it was either the side of the van, or perhaps a divider between the front and back. His shoulder twinged from the contact, and his bound arms protested, and he grunted again. Scully made a similar noise beside him, and he realized she had been bounced about as well. Strange voices filled his mind suddenly. Thoughts that came like rapid-fire and made his head ache. <> <> <> The sliding door of the van was yanked open with a grinding bang, and weak light filtered in, making him blink rapidly. Scully's weight left him, and he heard scuffling noises, followed by a voice barking, "Struggling will only get one or both of you hurt." An iron grip on his biceps came then, pulling him across and out of the van, where another hand grabbed his other arm. In a way, Mulder was thankful for the hands that held him, for with the blood now rushing to his feet, he would not have been able to stand on his own. Off to his left he thought, that same voice barked, "You were warned." More scuffling, and then a choked off sound that he *knew* was Scully. Her panicked thought came next. <> "Scu--" he tried to call out to her, but a black-clad arm descended over his face from behind, encircling his neck and yanking him tightly upright. Nearly choking him in the process. Still, he tried to find Scully, tried to move his head, his eyes darting frantically about. <> <> No response. Unable to see or hear anything, and knowing only that something was very wrong, he began to fight in earnest, even though bound hand and foot. Doing so earned him a jolt from the stun gun. An excruciating tingling began in the place where he had been hit -- where shoulder became neck -- and every single muscle in his body spasmed. Rising to his toes, his back arching, he tried to cry out through involuntarily clenched teeth as an indescribable pain coursed through him. He could manage only a strangled, "Shhhi..." The surge of electricity finally ended, and he collapsed, his legs like water. The arms that had been holding him upright released their hold, and he was callously allowed to fall, hitting the ground with a jarring thud. Sprawled in a heap of twitching limbs, he managed to turn his head, finding Scully lying similarly just a few feet away. Her eyes were open, staring in his direction. Their normally brilliant blue was faded, her gaze vacant. For a heart-stopping second he thought she was dead. But her lips moved then, and she opened and closed her eyelids in a slow blink. Exhaling harshly in relief, Mulder blinked his own eyes at her in response, unable to do anything more. His limbs would not obey the commands to move, and his mind was a mass of jumbled thoughts, none of which made sense. A kind of pressure at his feet, like a tugging, confused him. It wasn't until he saw two black-clad figures lifting Scully to her feet did he realize they had removed the restraints from around both their ankles. Strong hands clasped his upper arms then, hauling him upwards. Disoriented and vaguely nauseous, he felt his knees wobble, and knew he was going to fall again. But as before, the commando's grasp held him upright. "Move," a gruff voice ordered, and he was propelled forward, legs trembling. He could see Scully several yards ahead of him. His partner was flanked by two black-clad men who gripped her arms tightly and half-walked/half-dragged her over the concrete floor towards a metal door held open by yet another black-clad figure. His two escorts followed suit, and in moments their strange group was moving along a bright white, empty hallway. Past unmarked after unmarked door, turning right around a corner once, to follow an identical hallway with identical unmarked doors, and then left for yet more of the same. Ahead, Scully was suddenly thrust through a doorway. Mulder struggled slightly, panicking at the thought that they might be separated, and felt the threatening press of the stun gun in his neck. Settling once again, he opened his mouth to cry out, to protest, and was yanked to a stumbling halt at the same door before any sound emerged. Facing into the room, the contents of which he could make out very little, he spied Scully in the rectangle of light from the doorway. His partner was on her hands and knees on the floor, her head hanging down. Rough movements behind him, and his hands were freed of their restraints, as he realized Scully's had been. His arms dropped heavily to his sides, and he groaned as the blood rushed through the already traumatized extremities. Before he could formulate a thought as to why the two of them had been freed from their bonds, he was pushed inside. As he fell to the ground, he heard the heavy door slam shut, leaving them in near-darkness. *** End Part 6 of 12