Title: Weak in the Knees
Rating: NC-17Please see previous posts for disclaimer/summary/notes. Special thanks to bara_brithand yellowsmurf6. As always, thanks to celievamp for the beta.
Jess had only been asleep about an hour when her cell phone rang. She reached and snagged it from the nightstand. “Morgan.”
Jess came fully awake in a split second. Something was wrong with Dana. “Dana? What’s wrong?” She heard a sniff before Dana answered.
“I just...” Why had she called Jess? She knew Jess should have been sleeping – it was almost 4:00 in the morning in DC. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”
“No. You did the right thing. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Jess asked gently.
Dana sighed and wiped at her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about things.”
“Mulder, my sister, the last six years, the X-Files, the case, Kensey... everything.”
“Talk to me about it,” Jess encouraged.
“Honestly, I really don’t want to talk about; I don’t want to think about it.”
“Okay. So we’ll talk about something else.”
“Tell me about the last place you went for vacation.”
“Vacation? What’s that?”
Jess chuckled. “Alright. I won’t give you hard time about not taking vacation since I’m hardly in a position to criticize anyone about that. So tell me about where you would go if you could take a vacation anywhere in the world you wanted?”
Dana slid down onto her back. “Hmm, I’m not sure. At one time I would have said Ireland.”
“My family’s Irish.”
“Really? I never would have guessed,” Jess lightly teased.
Dana couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, yes. I even inherited an Irish temper to go with my red hair.”
“You don’t say.” They both chuckled. “Well, if Ireland isn’t your choice now, what is?”
“I think somewhere on the water. I’ve always loved the water.”
“Do you like sailing?”
“I learned one summer when I was a teenager. There was a class on the base through the community center. It’s been many years since I’ve gone on a dive – probably not since my freshman year in college.”
“Okay, somewhere on the water. How about the Caribbean? Or the South Pacific?”
Dana hummed in thought, “Hmmm, either would be nice.”
“Somewhere secluded or around other vacationers?”
A smile crept across Dana’s face. “Depends... am I on this vacation with someone?”
“Yes – if you want.”
“Then I would say somewhere secluded.”
“When we close this case, let’s take a vacation, Dana. You and me, somewhere on a secluded beach.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it’s a yes. I’d love to go on vacation with you.” She yawned twice.
“Can you sleep now, Dana?”
“Mm hmm...” She was already falling asleep.
“Good night, love.”
Dana slept peacefully through the rest of the night.
Rain. It had been raining for hours. And, from the rolling, dark grey clouds it appeared it would be raining for some time to come.
Scully sighed to herself as she thought about what one of the deputies had said about their destination. No car would take them up that bluff. ATVs were going to be the mode of transportation. It was going to be a rough, muddy, wet ride. There had been no question about dressing casually.
Scully looked over the assembled group. The detectives and deputies from the previous night’s shift had all come in early to execute the operation. She easily picked up on the determined atmosphere, and was infinitely grateful for the serious attitude and lack of territorial posturing. The man they were going after was a monster in every sense of the word. And she had examined and autopsied more than enough young women to be intimately familiar with his ‘work.’
A female deputy, Ashlee Stratton according to her nametag, tapped Scully on the shoulder. “Here you go, Agent Scully. Use my spare vest, it’ll fit you better than those,” she said with a nod towards the ones Sgt. Thomas was handing to Casper and a male deputy.
“Thanks.” Scully immediately slipped it on and adjusted the straps for a snug fit. Then her phone rang. “Scully.”
“Hey, Dana, it’s me.”
“What’s up, Jess?”
“Got some more information on Kensey. Seems he spent a year in Carbondale teaching at the college there – SIU. Only he used the name Brian Adams. That time corresponds to when he was setting up his place there.”
“The place is up on a bluff, Jess, overlooking the Mississippi. Once we turn off the main road the cars will only go to the base of the bluff. From there it’s a gravel and dirt road. And with the rain we’re having it’s going to be muddy. The sheriff has arranged for us to go up on ATVs.”
“Damn. He could hear those coming from a distance. You’re not going to have the element of surprise, Dana. If he’s there he’s going to be ready for you.”
“Maybe the rain will mask the ATVs.”
“Don’t count on it. You know how good he is, so be careful.”
“I will, Jess. We’re about to leave so we can get there and be ready on time. I’ll call you later.”
It was a caravan that left the sheriff’s office, led by Sheriff Shipley in his department SUV. Riding with him were Sgt. Thomas and Lt. Brown. Casper and Scully followed in their rental car. Behind them were the three patrol cars with a detective and a uniformed deputy in each. Nine locals and two federal officers – all to serve a search warrant and arrest one man.
The sheriff pulled off Rt. 3 onto a loose, muddy, gravel road. Less than half a mile later he pulled to the edge of the road and waited as the other vehicles followed suit. Deputy Norwood was already there since he’d driven the truck and trailer that delivered the four red ATVs. He had already unloaded them and one of them already looked pretty muddy.
Casper and Scully got out of the car and joined the sheriff. It was raining so hard they were soaked through in seconds.
“I checked out the road ahead, Sheriff. Not even your SUV is going to make it up to the bluff. This rain has washed out most of it; it’s nothing but mud,” Andrew Norwood reported.
Shipley looked back at the assembled group. They had 12 people and only four ATVs to get everyone up to the suspect’s property. Obviously it was going to take more than one trip. In only a couple of minutes, the first group was ready to go. Scully had been assigned to ride with Deputy Stratton.
Ashlee Stratton looked over her shoulder at her passenger. “You’re going to want to hold on, Agent Scully.” When Scully placed her hands on Stratton’s waist, the deputy grabbed them and pulled Scully’s arms completely around her waist. “I mean hold on tight. This is going to be a tricky ride.”
Despite the cold rain Scully felt a little warmer snugged up behind the 5’7” deputy. And when Stratton started up the muddy road, she felt the ATV slip and slide through the deep mud, causing her to hold on tighter.
Once up top of the bluff, the ATVs let off their passengers and then returned to the bottom for the four remaining people. Finally they were all once again assembled. Because no one knew exactly where Kensey’s cabin was they actually passed the entrance of his property twice before someone realized it.
Kensey’s ‘driveway’ was little more than a mud footpath. It was mostly grown over, so the ATVs slowly went ahead of those on foot, to widen the path a little bit. Over 500 feet off the road, they finally came to a cabin in a small clearing.
“I’ll be damned; I had no idea this was even here,” the sheriff muttered as he signaled for his people to circle the area, sticking inside the tree line so they remained out of sight.
Despite everyone being on alert and moving carefully, one of the detectives missed a tripwire and sprung a trap. A piece of rebar shot up and hit him just to the side of his heart. Had he not been wearing Kevlar, the metal would have easily impaled him. As it was, he went down hard, and had trouble breathing.
Scully rushed to him. “Don’t move. Take small, easy breaths.”
The sheriff knelt in the mud next to Det. Whitten and supported his head. “You’re going to be alright, Charlie.”
Scully pulled open the man's jacket, vest, and then shirt. He had a bruise already starting to blossom on his chest. She carefully checked the area. “I don’t think you’ve broken any ribs, Detective.”
“Why can’t he breathe?” Shipley asked as the man still struggled to get a decent amount of air into his lungs.
“It knocked the wind out of him and then his chest muscles tightened up from the shock of the impact.” She looked down at the detective. “Relax, Detective; slow, calm, easy breaths.”
Slowly the tightness eased around Charlie’s chest and he was able to get more oxygen into his lungs. It hurt too damn much to take a deep breath, but he no longer felt like he was suffocating.
“That’s it. Now, you may have cracked a rib and bruised your lung so you’re going to need to be checked out at the hospital.”
“Does he need to be evacuated immediately?” the sheriff asked with concern.
“No. But he should rest until we do leave.”
Charlie nodded. “Go on. I’ll be alright,” he assured the sheriff.
“Let’s get you moved somewhere a little drier first,” Scully suggested. She and sheriff helped the detective up and over to sit against a tree.
Whitten was still wet and muddy, but some of the rain was at least blocked by the trees. Scully was worried about him being chilled, but before she could say anything, the sheriff called to one of the deputies.
“Stratton, get one of the first aid kits.”
“On it!” Ashlee replied. She carefully hurried to the nearest ATV, retrieved the first-aid kit and took it to Scully. “Here you go, Agent Scully.”
“Thank you.” Scully removed a space blanket from the kit and tore open its packaging. She quickly had it unfolded and with the help of Stratton, got it wrapped around the injured detective.
The sheriff keyed his radio. “Okay, people, tighten up. We move in pairs. Watch where you step, and where your partner steps.”
Morgan was beside herself. She couldn’t sit, she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t keep her heart from racing, she couldn’t think clearly. Dana and John were out there without her to watch their backs. Jess chafed at being stuck in the office. It went against everything she was to sit back and be passive. She wanted to be out there, catching the sick bastard.
It was one thing to come in to a case, profile an UNSUB and then move onto the next case. But to profile the UNSUB and then work the case until its conclusion was another story. She wanted to help! But she was not doing anyone much good at the moment. She couldn’t concentrate enough to dig through Kensey’s past. But she did take each piece of the puzzle agents in the bullpen, and in the field in several states, gathered and wrote them on a list in an effort to get the whole picture.
Dark brown hair and brown eyes, 5’11”, right-handed
Graduated from Hunter College High School in ‘78 at age 12
Attended MIT – graduated in ‘85 at age 19 with 2 engineering PhDs
Worked at Boeing from ‘85-‘87 until he simply quit without notice
Nothing for the last half of ‘87 or all of ‘88
In ‘89 at age of 23 entered Los Angeles police academy until resigning only one week shy of completing the six-month training program (what happened?)
Fall of ‘91 through spring of ‘92 taught at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale using the name of Brian Adams
Purchased property in the area December of ‘91 – invoices for equipment rentals and purchases through summer of ‘93 indicate still in area even though no longer teaching
96 receives balance of trust fund - 65 million. Drops off face of the earth, no sign of Hugh Kensey.
Used name Joel ?? with Andrea Nicks (Annapolis)
Used name Russell Schiff with Sheila Cousins (Boston)
Used name Thomas Weeks with Andrea Bishop (Richmond)
Her phone rang. “Morgan... Yes... They’re sure?... Alright, thank you.” She hung up and added another item to her list.
Used name Jerry Tyler with Elizabeth Timmons (Miami)
Kensey seemed to change names and identities as easily as most people changed their clothes. They had five aliases for him already and were probably only scratching the surface. His picture was being shown to the families and friends of all their known victims to see what other names he used. She closed her eyes while trying to focus her thoughts. Then the phone on her desk rang.
“This is Chief Bud Calhoun from Midway, Georgia. I don’t know if you remember me...”
Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose. “I remember you, Chief. What can I do for you?”
“It’s about this picture I received.”
“What about it?”
“I know this guy. His name’s Ben Lufkin. He applied for a job in my department. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the budget to add anyone. He had great credentials – worked for Chicago PD.”
Morgan perked up. “Did you check his references, Chief?”
“Of course. Spoke to his old lieutenant – Pete Sawyer. Sawyer couldn’t say enough about him. What’s going on, Agent? You think this is the guy you’ve been looking for? I did check him out, you know.”
“Thanks for calling Chief.” Morgan hung up and added to her list.
Used name Ben Lufkin with Dawn Browning (Midway)
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