Title: Weak in the Knees
Rating: NC-17Please see previous posts for disclaimer/summary/notes. Special thanks to bara_brith and yellowsmurf6. As always, thanks to celievamp for the beta.
With one man already injured, everyone was in an even higher state of alert. They slowly approached the cabin. Scully and Casper went up onto the small porch. Standing to the side of the door, Casper knocked on it with the butt of his gun. “Hugh Kensey! We have a warrant for your arrest and to search these premises!”
He knocked a second time, but there was still no response. Scully positioned herself at an angle to the door so she could cover Casper when he kicked it open.
It was dark inside; too dark to see if anyone was present or not.
Morgan got on the phone and placed some calls to Chicago. She got hold of the field office there and spoke with an Agent Harry Sabine. “Agent Sabine, I need you to get down to Chicago PD and show the picture I just emailed you to a Lt. Pete Sawyer. I need to know if that picture is of the same man that worked for him by the name of Ben Lufkin. And also verify if he spoke to a Chief Bud Calhoun from Midway, George.”
“Alright, Agent Morgan. I’ll call you as soon as I get any information.”
“You have my cell number.”
After ending the call Morgan left her office and went into AD Taylor’s office. “I think we might distribute Kensey’s picture much more widely.”
“Well, he attended LAPD’s police academy but resigned one week shy of graduation – even though he was top in his class. No explanation was given. He also applied for a job as a cop in a small town in Georgia under a different name, claiming to have worked for Chicago PD.” Before Taylor could ask her, she continued. “I’ve got an agent going to there to talk to someone and show his picture to verify it’s the same guy.”
“I know the director wanted to keep a lid on this, which is why we’re executing all the search warrants at the same time.” Taylor looked at his watch, “Which should be in about 20 minutes. Let’s see how things go after that. If necessary we’ll open the investigation up wider, okay?”
Morgan nodded. It was always a balancing act trying to figure out how much information to keep confidential and how much to release in a case like this.
Taylor frowned. “Why would someone with engineering degrees from MIT want to be a cop?”
“I’m not sure that’s what he really wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it could have just been research for him. A way to find out just how cops think and what they look for.” She shrugged. “We won’t know until we find out more or can just ask him.”
Morgan walked out of Taylor’s office. She had to get outside and get some air. Dana and the others were about to serve the warrant at Kensey’s cabin. She didn’t know if she wanted him to be there or not. If he wasn’t there Dana and John would be safer, but he’d still be on the loose. If he was there they’d be able to arrest him, but he could hurt them... or worse.
She was on the elevator headed down when her cell phone rang. She waited until the doors opened and she stepped out to answer it. The elevators in the Hoover building were notorious for wreaking havoc on reception. “Morgan.”
“Jessica? It’s Stacy.”
“What can I do for you?”
“The Director would like to see you.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
Morgan closed her phone, hit the up button for the elevator and waited.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“You know Mulder has been evaluated for these last three days.”
“Dr. Harkin has submitted his report.” The Director held a folder out to Morgan. “Take a look at it and let me know what you think.”
Morgan took the folder and opened it up. She didn’t know Dr. Carl Harkin, but had heard a few good things about him. She began to read. She couldn’t help but shake her head at the things Mulder had said and done as she turned the pages. She read a relevant passage out loud. “Axis I diagnosis: Delusional Disorder as evidenced by... Expresses an idea or belief with unusual persistence or force; that idea exerts undue influence on his life; despite his profound conviction there is a quality of secretiveness and suspicion when he is questioned about it; no matter how unlikely these strange things are happening to him, he accepts them unquestioningly; is oversensitive about the belief; any attempt to contradict the belief arouses inappropriately strong irritability and open hostility; he is emotionally overinvested in the idea and it has overwhelmed other elements of his psyche.”
She flipped the page and continued. “Axis II diagnosis: Narcissistic Personality Disorder with significant Paranoid tendencies... Subject has grandiose sense of self-importance; is preoccupied with fantasies of ideal love particularly revolving around his partner Agent Scully; believes that he is ‘special’ and unique; has a sense of entitlement; is interpersonally exploitative; and shows arrogant behaviors and attitude. Subject believes that others are exploiting and deceiving him; is preoccupied with unjustified doubts about the loyalty and trustworthiness of associates; is extremely reluctant to confide in others because of unwarranted fear that the information will be used maliciously against him; and persistently bears grudges.”
With a sigh, Morgan closed the folder. “The bastard is bloody nuts.”
The Director sighed. “So should he stay in prison or go to a mental institution?”
Morgan let out a rueful huff. “Lou, I’m not exactly dispassionate and unbiased here. He threatened my partner and my previous partner. He drugged four other agents; took shots at Scully; shot me and shot Casper! I’d like to see the asshole put away for fucking life – in either setting.” She stopped to take a deep breath and rein in her anger. “The bottom line is that while he is a very disturbed person, he’s legally sane since he acted with malice and forethought and was able to appreciate the wrongfulness of his act.” She sighed. “However, that said, I can imagine a lawyer trying to argue the insanity defense. A judge and/or jury will undoubtedly have to make that call.”
“But you think he’s sane.”
“Well, he’s been charged with hindering an investigation, terroristic threats, aggravated assault and attempted murder.”
“He’s already been arraigned?
“Yes. He was denied bail.”
Morgan nodded. “Good.”
When Morgan finished with the Director, she headed back to the elevators. A look at her watch told her it was past time for the search warrants to be executed. Well past! Why hadn’t she heard from Dana or John yet? She wanted to call Dana so bad to find out what happened and make sure she was okay. But a call at an inopportune time could get an agent killed. She suddenly understood the urge to smoke.
Morgan went out the front doors and all but growled in frustration. She paced back and forth, looking at her watch several times every minute. Still, she jumped when her phone rang.
“Agent Morgan, this is Agent Sabine.”
“I spoke to Lt. Sawyer at Chicago PD. The man in the picture is not Ben Lufkin. Lufkin is blonde and has blue eyes.”
“Does Sawyer know where Lufkin is?”
“That’s just the thing. Lufkin quit the department without notice. Just called in, said he was done, and not coming back in. When he got the chance, Sawyer went to Lufkin’s house to see him and make sure everything was okay, but his house had been cleared out and the neighbors hadn’t seen him or his wife for days. In fact, no one’s seen or heard from either of them, not even their families. Sawyer had actually been relieved to get the call from Chief Calhoun; it was the first anyone had heard anything about Lufkin.”
Morgan closed her eyes. The bastard must have killed them. “Alright, Agent Sabine. Thank you for your help.” She hung up the phone. “Fuck!”
Casper and Scully very carefully made their way inside the cabin. All their senses were on high alert. Once they determined it was empty of human life they let the sheriff know it was clear.
Shipley decided to leave a couple of deputies, Ashlee Stratton and Ryan Whitcomb, to keep an eye out and provide backup for the agents in case the suspect showed up. Also, the other two deputies, Justin Travers and Andrew Norwood, would wait at the base of the bluff where the cars were parked. He and the others were going to get Det. Whitten to the hospital. They were then going to brief the day shift about the operation and familiarize them with the information on the suspect. The sheriff was determined to not let the suspect slip through their fingers if he was within his jurisdiction.
The weather had worsened outside; lightning and thunder now accompanied the rain. Even so, Scully heard something. She strained to place the sound. It seemed to be coming from behind a wall.
“John, come here.”
Casper walked over.
“Do you hear that?”
He listened intently for a few moments. “Sounds like a generator or something.”
They began to look for any sign of a door on the wall. Moving aside a tapestry, John found it.
“Here.” But the way to open the door was not apparent. There was no doorknob... only almost indiscernible cracks showing where the panel was located.
Scully started looking around and knocked something aside on the shelf attached to the wall a couple of feet from the door. Suddenly the panel pulled back, withdrawing from the wall, and then slid aside on the other side of the wall. They exchanged looks.
“I thought that kind of shit only happened in movies,” Casper quietly said in an ironic tone. He received a one-shouldered shrug in answer.
With weapons and flashlights raised, they carefully entered the room, splitting and moving along opposite sides. Once he was sure it was clear, John found a light switch. They were both taken aback by the contents of the room.
In the corner was a generator that was quietly running. There appeared to be a pipe of some kind attached to it that led to a wall and presumably vented the exhaust somewhere outside. Next to the generator was a bank of batteries of some kind. As they watched, a dial indicating the charge level reached the fully charged mark and the generator cut off.
Then they turned their attention to a wine rack built into one wall. It was full of what appeared to be wine. Scully pulled on a latex glove and removed a random bottle.
“Oh, my god,” she breathed.
“What is it?” Casper asked.
She read the label to him. “Katherine Horne; Seattle, Washington; June 1990.” Scully held the bottle up so Casper could see the contents – blood. She put it back and pulled a few others at random. “Sonya Copeland; Abilene, Texas; November 1987. Melody Adams; De Soto, Illinois; April 1989. Annie Jensen; Branchville, South Carolina; September 1998.” She paused and stared at the rack. “These are his victims.”
Casper was stunned. “There must be close to a hundred of them.”
“It looks like they started in 1987. He’s been killing for at least 12 years.”
Morgan was back in her office. She was standing at the window staring out at nothing. It had been an hour since the warrants were executed. She still hadn’t heard from Dana or John. She just about jumped out of her skin when her cell phone sounded.
“Jess, it’s me.”
Jess audibly let out a breath she felt she’d been holding in for hours. “Thank God! Is everything okay? It’s been an hour since the warrants were served.”
Dana felt warmed, and little amused, by her lover’s obvious concern. “We were behind schedule because we ran into some difficulty. It’s nothing but thick mud up here due to the heavy rain that’s been falling since before dawn. And we missed the entrance to the property twice before someone finally saw it.” She let out a small sigh. “He’s not here, Jess, but we did find something.”
Scully told her about the generator and battery setup. Then she told her about the wine rack full of bottles of blood.
Jess sat down heavily in a chair at the worktable. “Fuck.”
“Hey! What’s going on out there?”
“Dana? What’s wrong?” Jess’s heart stopped when the call was suddenly disconnected.
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