Tale Of Two Hard Drives

Author: Pattie

Rated: PG-13

Category: MT, Casefile

Spoiler(s): Pick a season. Fill your boots.

Summary: Trouble with a computer hard drive and a hard
drive for Mulder at gunpoint. It's a long day for our
driven agent.

Feedback: Welcome, with suggestions as well, at:
patfiler@hotmail.com

Archive: Gossamer, Ephemeral, ATXC. This story will be up
at Pattie's Pocketful Of X-Fics soon. If you want the story,
please write to me and ask me first, okay?

Disclaimer: All characters and The X-Files are copyright
property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and
Fox Studios. I make no money writing fanfiction and
intend no copyright infringement. Any original characters
are mine. 'Red Shoe Diaries' is a Zalman King Production.
(Who IS that Jake guy, anyway? Only kidding!)


WEDNESDAY
9:30 AM


When the call came from upstairs, Scully was out of the office.
In fact, she was out of state giving a lecture on DNA profiling
at a seminar in Oklahoma City.  It was part of a series of
workshops, and she would be gone for three days. This was day
one. If she could get through her lecture, she was debating
whether to attend any of the other presentations and workshops
or head back to Washington. Of course, she was tempted to take
the two days she had left to relax, and she could always find
something other than work to do.  Somehow, she thought going
back to Washington was her best bet.

Nothing much was going on in the X-Files Office. In fact,
Mulder had resorted to reading some of the oldest files while
technicians went over the computer. There had been a system
crash, and it was a biggie.

Mulder leaned on the file cabinet and closed another old file.
"So, when am I going to be able to access my hard drive?"

"Really couldn't tell you," one tech remarked calmly. "I sure
hope you backed up your files before the system went down. It
looks like not only the Hoover is having screw-ups. And even
if we do get the system up and running again, this particular
hard drive is fubar. What the hell you been doing with this
machine, anyway?"

That didn't bode well for Mulder. He slumped against the
cabinet and almost swore. "Ah... fubar? That's not good,
fellas. It crashed when I was in the middle of a... Can you
run a recovery program?"

"Only if we get the thing working again," the other tech
explained. "Even then, I don't know. We were told to get the
Bureau system working before anything else. I don't know how
they did it, but someone hacked in and sent a damn big worm,
and it loves text files. They oughta put whoever wrote this
one into a recovery program. I can look at your hard drive
when we're through here, but essentially I'm going to have
to replace it along with the operating system and all your
utilities."

Mulder remained calm. "Okay. I know some guys who can get the
data back for me. Just take it out and I'll let them work on
it."

"You'd trust outsiders to FBI files?"

"Well, they're a little crazy, but yeah. They keep my partner
and me informed about news nobody's heard yet."

One tech looked at the other. "Okay," said the first, "I'll
pull out the hard drive, install another one, and next time
make sure you have your stuff backed up every time you shut
the thing off. Did you know that every month 200 new viruses
are... "

Saved from a technology lecture by the phone. "Mulder. Yes,
I can be up there in a shot. You don't know how happy you've...
Yes, Sir." Mulder leaned over one of the technicians. "I'll
be back for the hard drive, and that was a business call.
Don't get the wrong idea, huh?"

The technicians just shook their heads and carried on as
Mulder left the office.


                                 ***


The hard drive was at Mulder's apartment three hours later,
and Mulder was on a plane to Toronto. Canadian authorities had
picked up a most wanted felon and this one had to fly home to
face a number of charges.

Although Mulder and the criminal had no trouble at Pearson
Airport, the flight to Arkansas was another story. Five
minutes into the flight a loud noise was heard, and the pilot
announced they would be returning to Toronto. An engine had
failed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you all just to relax and we'll
be on the ground shortly. While we do anticipate a safe outcome,
the ride could be a bit rough, so please put your seat belts on
and follow the flight attendants' instructions. Thank you. Air
Canada apologizes for any inconvenience... "

Well, that was great. Mulder was handcuffed to a dangerous felon
and would have to catch the next available plane to Arkansas.

"Dammit, Stevens, she said put your head down on your knees!
Just DO it!" This was no time to get Mulder angry. Things had
been going badly all day.

"All right! Damn, it ain't easy with the handcuffs." The gruff,
balding Southerner did as he was told.

"It ain't going to get any easier after we land, either," Mulder
promised, smiling. "You, me, and sit and wait."

"#*%&-*##" Stevens muttered as a couple of women screamed.

Mulder looked at the man in mock horror. "You haven't read
Emily Post, have you? There is landing etiquette."

The landing was a bit rocky, because the pilot had enough
trouble lining the plane up with the runway and it was tricky
to get the body straight enough to land without tipping, but
they made it.

Another two hours passed as people were being checked by EMS
attendants for any injuries or emotional trauma, and Mulder
and his charge booked a Southwest flight.

Now things were going well. The landing in Arkansas was smooth,
they passed through customs, and local police took over from
there. After Mulder retrieved his travel bag, he decided to
stay the night. By then, it was sundown, and by all accounts
the computer system was going to be online the next day.

He drove out of the Lariat lot in a light blue Taurus and went
straight for the golden arches. Of course, no one could miss it.
It was right across from the airport.


TRAVALON MOTEL
ARKANSAS
WEDNESDAY
8:31 PM

As soon as he booked into a motel, he called Frohike. "Look,
all I'm asking is that you get whatever you can onto floppies,
not weld it all together and make a mini power plant. If I
trust you with my key, I can trust you with the hard drive.
It's a write off."

"Okay. Anything you say. It shouldn't be too hard for us. Too
bad the Hoover hired Alf and Ralph, but you should have come
to us first."

"Right. Well, have fun and I owe you one. Gotta go." Click.

There was nothing much on TV that night, except for a couple
of chick flicks and some drama about the First Family and the
White House. So, the White House show it was. He put the remote
on the bedside table and finished up his cola. *I wonder how
Scully's doing,* he thought. As it turned out, he would soon
know.


ONE HORSE MOTEL
8:35 PM


Scully had returned from the first day of lectures tired and
ready to crash. Two hours at the lectern had her feet aching and
swollen, so she bought a bag of ice, a plastic basin from a
home care supply store, and kicked her shoes off to soothe those
tender tootsies as soon as she could.

As she sat in the armchair in her room, she picked up her cell
phone and decided to see how the office was doing without her.
She tried Mulder's home phone. "This is Fox Mulder, please leave
a... " So, he wasn't home. Probably out for a drink. She tried
his cell phone. "Mulder."

"Hey, Mulder. Hard day at the office?"

"Uh, sort of. Well actually, the computer system went down, we
have a crappy hard drive, and I escorted a prisoner from Toronto
to Arkansas."

"Sounds a lot better than the yawn-a-thon I went to after my
speech. So, you're home again, right?"

"Actually, I'm in Arkansas. There were a couple of delays.
Should be back at the office tomorrow, so don't worry, I can
find the coffee whitener when I look hard enough. Really I
can."

*Ooooo... should have worn flats,* she whispered to herself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Listen, there aren't any mandatory workshops for me
here, so I'm heading back to DC tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll
see you around noon. And Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

" 'The Chief's Wing' isn't your type of show. I can hear it
in the background. Guess it beats 'Red Shoe Diaries.'"

"You've got 'Red Shoes'? Where? I'll see if they can pipe it in
here... Wait, I never did like the cheesy writing and
gratuitous 'dog playing catch' scenes.  So, umm... What are you
wearing?"

Scully smiled. "Good night, Mulder. I'm beat. 8:40 and I'm beat.
See you at the office. No middle of the night calls about
physically impossible combinations of atoms and genetic
remnants."

"It's more funner when done long distance. Spoil sport."

After Scully hung up, she started massaging her feet.


                                ***


TRAVALON MOTEL
ARKANSAS
8:45 PM


Mulder decided to write up a report of the day's events and
sat down at the writing desk near the window. As he opened his
laptop, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the
door.

"All right!" He opened the door to a terribly frightened
night manager. "You gotta come quick! You're an FBI Agent,
right?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Please, just calm down. What's wrong?"

"Some guy's got Gary, my husband. I went out for two minutes to
check the last empty room, and he... he has a gun! You gotta
come!"

Mulder grabbed his gun and ran with the woman to the front
office of the motel. Through large windows he could see a
haggard looking figure with unkempt hair and dirty clothes
holding a gun to a middle-aged man's head. "Stay out here,"
he advised the woman. "Federal Agent! What's going on here?"

"I get a ride outta town or he gets it!" The gunman then
spoke to the night manager. "Now, let's get into your car
and on our way."

"I said Federal Agent! I'm armed! Put the gun down, and we
can talk!"

"PLEASE, don't let him kill Gary!" The woman shrieked, tears
running down her face.

"How about I drive and we talk?" Mulder suggested.

"Yeah? Let me think about that... "

"A Federal Agent for an innocent citizen."

"Okay!" The man shoved Gary aside. He held his gun straight
at Mulder. At closer glance, he appeared to be all of
seventeen. "Get your car, and let's go!"

"Where?"

"As far away as we can from here! No calls or secret signals,
either. I know all about them things. Hand over your gun."

Mulder obliged. He thought about the cell phone in his pocket.
No, he wasn't going to let the boy/man know about that. He
faked a sneeze, making it look like he was reaching for a
tissue, and turned the phone off. It might come in handy if
he could just talk this guy out of running from whatever he
was fleeing. "Been fighting off a virus, I guess."

"Yeah? You'd better stay well enough to drive."

Back at the Travalon Motel, Gary had the presence of mind to
call the local police just as Mulder was being held at gunpoint
on his way to the car. As he picked up the phone, he turned to
his wife. "I'm, okay, Mabel. Lock Mr. Mulder's room so his
things'll be safe."

"You're sure you're okay, Honey?"

"Yes. I'm just a little shaken up. Now... Yes. It's Gary
Thompson at The Travelon Motel, I'd like to report an FBI
agent taken hostage by a kid... "

Mulder turned the key in the ignition and headed off down the
highway. Thompson was keen enough to watch the car leave and
noted the direction they were travelling.


ONE HORSE MOTEL
10:35 PM


Scully had tried to get to sleep, but if it was possible to be
too tired to sleep, she figured this was how it was, so she
started channel surfing. She settled for a TLC special about
reproductive technology. Perhaps it would be a good soporific,
but it reminded her of Emily. She finally found a good murder
mystery and settled in for some macabre investigation.

"Rats." The movie was over at 11:00. "Let's try the news," she
decided. Her left leg jerked. That was a good sign that sleep
was on its way finally, until the anchor man uttered the words
FBI Agent. "One of our own?" She couldn't believe what she
heard next. "Mulder. Oh my God."

"...The teen's name is Lenny Rice, paranoid schizophrenic. He
is armed and dangerous. If you see the patient, do not approach
him. Call this number... "

Scully dialed Mulder's cell phone. Maybe there was some mistake.
No one answered. Skinner was next on her list.

"Sir, it's Agent Scully. I just heard... "

Skinner had already been asleep. "I know. Just stay calm.
I've already spoken to the state police and we're going to get
Mulder out of this. Hopefully safely."

"Sir... "

"Agent Scully, by the time you're home from the seminar, I hope
this will be old news."

"I was just about to tell you, I'm not staying. I decided to be
back home tomorrow." She threw the phone down onto the bed.

By the time Skinner had finished telling Scully not to take
it into her own hands, she was getting dressed, closing the
phone and gathering her belongings. Next stop, the airport.
Destination: Wherever Mulder and his kidnapper were heading
and she could find that out easily enough through the
Arkansas State Police and the Bureau.

The drama was being televised in the airport lounge as she sat
waiting for someone to call back telling her where the men were
headed. Finally.

"Scully. Good. Yes, thanks, Byers. Yes, I will." She booked
the next flight to an airport north of Arkansas. The Gunmen
believed Mulder and Rice were driving in a northerly direction.


                                 ***


Mulder tried to watch the road and wasn't too sure he liked
having a gun to his head. The kid could fire it at a bump
in the road, and he was already uptight as it was. "So,
my name's Fox Mulder. What should I call you?"

"Lenny. And just drive!"

"Not much on small talk. Okay. Can you tell me what you're
running away from? Maybe I can help." Yes. Reason with the kid.
There was something about Lenny Rice that gave Mulder an idea
of where he had been before this whole mess started. He noticed
Lenny's legs were restless. "Lenny, are you taking any
medication?"

"Not any more! Never again! No more chlor-- chlorpro--- Damn! No
more of that stuff!"

"Chlorpromazine? That's Stelazine, isn't it? Makes the voices
go away. Sometimes it keeps you from seeing things. When was
your last dose?" Schizophrenia, Mulder thought. Maybe with
delusions, paranoia. It was hard to know at that point.

"I'm off of it now, and THAT is MY BUSINESS! Just keep driving.
What are you, a shrink?" Rice's hands were shaking, but he
kept the gun aimed at Mulder's head. "Maybe YOU see things
and hear things?"

"Me? No. But I have read about that kind of thing. You still
have those side effects. Am I right?"

"Doesn't matter! Cogentin doesn't stop the pacing, the
restlessness... I was better off without them drugs! I figure
if we drive all night we can get across a couple of
states... "

"Are you better off kidnapping a Federal Agent at gunpoint,
Lenny?"

"Keep driving!" Rice shoved Mulder's right arm, and the car
veered dangerously toward several very old trees. Luckily.
Mulder was able to get it back onto the road. It was a close
call.



                                 ***

THURSDAY
6:00 AM


The teen showed no sign of calming down, became increasingly
agitated and was far from tired. Mulder, on the other hand, was
extremely tired after the events of the day before. He believed
he could last as long as Rice could. Then, there was also the
cell phone in his left pocket. If the kid would just stop
looking at him for a minute, he could turn it on and speed dial
Scully, Skinner, anybody.

Every once in a while, Lenny Rice would pop what appeared to be
a Tic Tac mint into his mouth. At least that's what the container
was labelled.

"Hey, Lenny. Mind if I have one of those?"

"DON'T ask! Just keep driving." Rice looked to the horizon as
the sun was on the rise.

"Well, I think I could use a breath mint right about now... "
Mulder said, at the same time pressing the first button he
could feel.

"They ain't breath mints, and I'm gettin' awful hungry! So find
us a place to get food and don't get any ideas!" The teen
shoved the container back into his jacket.

Mulder thought about the boy's behavior, how it was
progressively changing, and how dilated his pupils appeared
even when they passed cars with high beam lights. "Bennies.
You're taking bennies, right? Speed? Benzedrine? Maybe
methylphenidate or Ritalin?"

"Does it matter? NO! Keep goin' till I decide where I want
to get out. Then you get your gun replaced when ya get back
home, and I'm away from the nut house! We both get what we
want, and I'm stayin' awake through the whole drive!"


                                 ***

By that time, Scully had joined with Federal Agents and State
Troopers about fifty miles up the road. She stepped down from
a helicopter. "What's the situation so far?"

"About fifty miles away, if they keep on the same road. We've
got a chain across the highway and that might stop them.
You're Agent Scully? I'm Chuck Anderson. Bureau sent me out
here."

"Okay... My partner just called me on his cell phone, but
didn't say anything. I heard a lot of yelling going on, and
had some friends check out where it was coming from. So, we'd
better hope Mulder can talk to Lenny Rice, because the doctors
didn't seem to think he'd be easy to take even by an agent
trained in psychology."

Anderson sighed. "I'm afraid you're right. The kid is a paranoid
schizophrenic, onset at age 15. They can't find the right mix
of meds to get him thinking straight. Sure, he's escaped from the
ward a couple of times. This is his first hostage taking."

"Then anything can happen. We can't even predict what he'll do.
Sick or not, he's got my partner."



6:17 AM


Mulder pulled up at a fast food drive-thru, ordered a couple
of breakfast specials and coffees, and gave the money to the
woman in the window. When he saw the look on the woman's face,
he placed his fingers on his lips, nodded, and drove away.
The woman was, in fact, not the usual attendant. She picked
up a police radio and reported the car's location.

"Eat and shut up!" Mulder snapped. "If you can be a pain
in the ass, so can I! ISN"T THAT RIGHT?"

"YOU YELLING AT ME?"

"YEAH! YOU BET! Shove the egg burger in your mouth and listen
up. There are other medications which do no have the side
effects of the older drugs, and you can use those with a
doctor's help!" Mulder took a deep breath and spoke softly.
"But I bet you want to get shot or crash the car, dying on
some stupid highway and taking me with you. Dammit, that
doesn't have to happen. We live in a day and age when many
people with your disease go on to live relatively productive
lives, even holding down jobs. Of course, you want to throw
it away."

Apparently, Rice was too delusional for any of Mulder's words
to make sense, and the tablets he was popping only made
his state of mind worse. Lenny Rice gave Mulder another shove
and the car rolled into a ditch.


                                 ***


6:37 AM







Because the car ran off of the right side of the road, Lenny
had taken the brunt of the impact. Unconscious and bleeding
from the mouth, his situation was critical.

Mulder was unconscious, hunched over the steering wheel. The
airbags hadn't deployed, and he was bleeding from the upper
thorax in a couple of places. As the horn blared away, their
only hope was that someone would see the car and call for
help.

The helicopter that had taken Scully to the area where the
State Troopers were working from radioed Scully.

"Yeah, okay. So where is this? Can you take me there?
Thank you."

One of the State Troopers ran out of his cruiser. "There's
a car matching the description of the one Mulder was driving.
It's banged up pretty badly."

"I heard. I'm going out there." The helicopter had arrived.
"Call the EMS. I'm a medical doctor. Let's get going!"


2:35 PM
MEMORIAL HOSPITAL


Scully sat in post-op waiting for Mulder to regain
consciousness. His face was bruised and scratched, there was
gauze over his forehead, and his ribs were bound up tightly.
The IV dripped slowly as Scully waited for her partner to
awaken.

Slowly, he moved his head and opened his eyes. "Scully? Wha-?"

"No, Mulder. Try not to talk. You're in hospital. You have
three broken ribs and a concussion. They also had to
stop some thoracic bleeding. Just rest."

"Lenny... "

"They're still working on him. You'll be happy to hear the
motel was kind enough to send your laptop and bag home, and
Frohike says he has some interesting things on floppy... "

"Notes," Mulder moaned. "Hard drive."

"Yes, you did have a hard drive, Mulder. But you're safe now."

"Hard drive. Hard drive from computer... "

"Sorry, Mulder. It isn't going to make it. I'll write up this
one for you, and you can add anything that's missing later."

A surgeon walked into post-op looking sombre. "I see you're
awake, Agent Mulder. I'm afraid your passenger wasn't as
fortunate. I'll get you into a regular room. We want to watch
you for a few days. Can I have a word with you, Agent Scully?"

Scully left post-op while Mulder was wheeled to a regular
hospital room, and Lenny Rice was wheeled to Pathology.
Mulder knew it was Rice, and closed his eyes sadly.


                              ***


Two weeks later, Mulder had been sent home to recover from
his injuries. Scully wrote up most of the report on Lenny
Rice, and Mulder added some final remarks.

"Although the treatment Lenny Rice received in the psychiatric
hospital was adequate, I believe he would have had a better
chance on one of the newer medications. Teenage onset is never
easy to treat, but schizophrenics today have new options and
deserve proper early diagnosis and treatment with fewer side
effects. Patient compliance is of the utmost importance and
many schizophrenics can lead productive lives with proper
monitoring. Lenny Rice was one of those unfortunate people
whose need for better treatment options slipped under the
radar. I have been asked to testify at an inquest into his
death and also to attend a hearing regarding the Arkansas
psychiatric facility that had been caring for the youth. Some
day, perhaps there will be a better understanding of such
things.

"Although I am a trained psychologist, I must admit that I had
lost my professional persona and lashed out at Mr. Rice. I
guess there is intolerance in all of us, if we are to be
completely honest with ourselves. It's not our place to judge
anyone by their illness. The illness is not the person. It
is only a part of the person, as is hair and eye color.

"As for my injuries, they will soon be a memory. I wonder who
is out there to remember Lenny Rice? To date, no one has been
able to contact relatives or even a guardian. As much as I
became angry with that boy, I am ashamed of people who treat
the imperfect child as garbage, throwing them away.

AGENTS OF RECORD:

Fox W. Mulder

Dana K. Scully"

"I got the toxicology report from the lab," Scully reported.
"You were right about the amphetamines. Apparently, Rice
had an old school friend who was diagnosed as ADHD, and he
took the friend's Benzedrine. The amount that was in Lenny
Rice's system was amazing, to say the least."

Mulder sat back in his chair. "Well, that hospital has a long
way to go, according to state authorities. At least the bugs
are out of the computer system, and I was able to finish the
report I lost in the screwed up hard drive."

"About the other files. Mulder... the ones Frohike burned to
CD. You can't have them on the FBI computer!"

"Those," Mulder proclaimed calmly, as he took the CD out of
his partner's hands, "Are part of a sting operation Project
Sin is setting up, Agent Scully. It's important that we keep
up on these things and are able to recognize the faces if
we stumble across any of the... perpetrators."

"Somehow, Mulder, I don't think you're memorizing the faces."


                              END