X-Files: The Psychic Informer

'Well done, Scully. I'll inform Agent Whitlock immediately. The task force has withdrawn from Culpepper. However they should be able to get to the hospital within a couple of hours. Good work, agent.'

Hanging up the phone, Scully had already made the decision to join the task force. After everything I've been through, I deserve to be there when they rescue Mulder.

Leaving the security office behind, she was escorted through the penal facility by Guard Lockwood. As they walked down a corridor, Dana needed a distraction from the warmth in her belly, the moisture in her pantyhose. An abrupt peak of curiosity struck the federal agent. 'Mr Lockwood, I noticed that inmates Miggs and Blevins weren't in their cells. What happened to them?'

'Miggs has been placed in solitary confinement. A search of his cell turned up an item of contraband.'

'Drugs?' Dana guessed.

A look of ill-fitting embarrassment crossed the face of the correctional officer. 'Er, no. We found a pair of women's panties in his cell.' He glanced at the beautiful woman walking beside him. 'Sometimes the inmates get their wives or girlfriends to hand over a pair for them. You know to...' he trailed off.

'Yes, I can imagine,' Scully said. Eyes locked straight ahead, she prayed that any investigation would ignore any claims made by Miggs that the panties were hers. 'And Blevins?'

'Blevins is in the infirmary. He was attacked again. He's not talking but we believe Williams is responsible. Would've been returned to solitary but you needed to speak with him.'

'Is Blevins ok?' the doctor asked, medical training automatically kicking in.

'Blevins will be ok,' Lockwood replied, clearly not interested in the inmate's condition.

***

Little more than two hours later Scully pulled up at the Western State Hospital. Through the windshield she saw a number of government-issue sedans, a pair of FBI SWAT trucks and a pair of ambulances. Spotting Special Agent Whitlock, the X-Files investigator jumped from her vehicle.

'Agent Whitlock,' she called, 'have you recovered Agent Mulder?'

'Agent Scully,' he greeted in turn, his manner distracted. 'We've searched the facility here but nothing. It's still operational and the staff reports nothing out of the ordinary. However, there are some redundant outbuildings. We were just about to breach. Care to tag along?'

Grabbing a bulletproof vest from the trunk of her car, Scully followed behind the task force SWAT team. Slipping into the abandoned building, the team spread out. Moving from room to room, they searched for the bank robber and his hostage. It was a large building, necessitating the team to break up into smaller groups.

Finding herself alone with Whitlock, Scully took up position next to a closed door. Silently counting down, the older agent kicked open the door, swinging his gun high to cover the room. At the same moment, the smaller female ducked through the doorway, covering low.

'Mulder!' Dana exclaimed, seeing her partner awake and alert, mouth gagged. Arms pulled back, his hands were handcuffed around a steel stanchion. Blood covered his right arm, a ragged gash in the shirt sleeve. With Whitlock watching for any threat, Scully rushed to her partner. 'Are you alright?' she asked, pulling the gag down.

'Scully. Yeah. I'm...I'm okay. Arm hurts. The guy saw my ID badge, cut me. Lost it,' Fox said, voice rough from lack of use and mild dehydration.

Dana wasn't sure if Fox was referring to having lost his ID or if Jackson had lost it and attacked him. Looking at the wound she saw it had stopped bleeding some time ago. However it was a nasty looking injury and would require medical attention. A quick inspection didn't reveal any additional injuries.

'Agent Scully, I hear something in the next room,' Whitlock said, gun aimed at an adjoining doorway.

With Mulder in no immediate danger the FBI agents had to check for further dangers. Omomteez Jackson wasn't accounted for yet. Again in tandem the two federal officers breached the next room. Movement in a back corner drew their attention, twin pistols automatically targeting the area.

'FBI! Don't move,' ordered Whitlock, directing the order towards the black man pinpointed by the under slung flashlight on his weapon.

However, the man, clearly Omomteez Jackson, didn't respond. Hands clasping his ears, eyes tightly screwed shut and knees pulled to his chest, the wanted criminal was rocking back and forth. From dry cracked lips he kept mumbling something, repeating the same thing. Together, Whitlock and Scully moved closer, covering the bank robber with their guns. Closer now, they finally made out what he was saying.

'Blevins. Blevins. Blevins,' Jackson kept saying, over and over as he rocked on the floor.

Scully stood up, confused. Blevins? Why is he saying that? Why...what's going on here?

Suddenly the room was swarmed by the FBI SWAT team surging through the doorway. Stepping back, Scully made room for the task force to deal with Jackson. Returning to the outer room, she un-cuffed Mulder, releasing him from capture. Behind them they heard Jackson suddenly start screaming.

'Blevins! Blevins! Blevins!'

Gripped in the hands of the task force, a wide-eyed and shaking Jackson was dragged away, still screaming the name, over and over.

'He kept saying that,' Mulder croaked, rubbing sore wrists and eyeing the retreating captive and his escort. 'He's been repeating it since the bank. I...I don't know why. I don't know what it means.'

Crouching next to her partner, Scully also watched the departing group. Her face was a picture of dawning realisation. Her countenance quickly transformed to one of disgust as things fell into place.

Blevins. Blevins is the one with psychic abilities, not Williams, she reflected. Williams must have known about the bank robbery, tried to get Jackson caught by tipping off the FBI. At some point he must have learned of Blevins' abilities, used it to ensnare me into his sick sex games. That must be why Williams kept attacking Blevins: he was forcing him to reveal his visions so he could use them to his own advantage. Scully was stunned. My God! All those mounting injuries I saw on Blevins' face. And that's why he looked at me so sadly. Blevins knew what Williams was doing and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Who'd have believed him?

Squatting to re-examine Mulder, Scully felt more of Williams semen dribble from her used pussy, adding to the growing moist stain in her pantyhose. That fucking bastard!

End of story.