~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Eight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They drove aimlessly through the stop-and-go morning rush 
hour traffic.  The jerky motion of the car -- combined with 
terror, fatigue and the lancing pain in his leg -- made 
Mulder's vision blur and his stomach roil.  He leaned 
against the car door and kept one hand shading his eyes to 
block out the ever-brightening sky.  

Every so often, Penelope would scream an obscenity and kick 
the back of his seat.  

"Knock it the fuck off," Grenier snapped.  "Or we'll bind 
and gag you."

She glowered at him in the rearview mirror.  "You 
wouldn't."

"I'd enjoy it," he shot back.  "Go ahead.  Try me just one 
more time and we'll find out."  

Penelope sank lower in the seat but said nothing.  After a 
minute, Grenier looked at Mulder.  "So where exactly am I 
headed?"

"I don't know," Mulder muttered.  "Pittsfield's 
calling the shots right now. Until he gives us some idea of 
where he wants to set up the meet, there's nothing we can 
do."

"So we wait," Grenier said.  He glanced at the dash.  
"We're going to need gas soon.  And food.  And, judging by 
the look of you, about two bottles of Tylenol."

Mulder waved him off.  "I'm fine.  Just find a drive 
through or something.  I don't want to have to get out of 
the car with her."

"I'll go in and get us something."

Mulder gestured weakly to his crutches and the bloody 
bandage wrapped around his leg.  "I think we need your four 
limbs in the car."  Even with a gun on his side, Mulder 
wasn't willing to chance being left alone with Penelope.  
The girl was uninjured and rested.

"Okay, I'll stay with her."

Mulder gave him a pointed look.  "Not a good idea."

"Be like old times," Penelope said darkly.

Grenier scowled and gripped the wheel. "I'll find a 
McDonald's."

"Fine."  Mulder leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  
Traffic eased as Grenier steered them off the main drag, 
and they drove in blessed silence for a few minutes.

"He wouldn't go back to that house," Grenier said after a 
while.  "Not after he knows we were there.  So where would 
he take her?"

"I don't know.  A church, maybe?  Don't forget -- tomorrow 
is his big day."

Grenier looked back at Penelope.  "You got any ideas you 
want to share?" he asked her.  "You know him better than 
any of us."

"Help you find him so you can send me back?" she scoffed.  
"I don't think so."

"You have to find him to get your daughter back," Mulder 
said.  He shifted painfully to look at her.  "What's her 
name?"

Penelope paled. "He called her 'Lily,'" she whispered.  "I 
wanted to name her Miriam. Miri for short."

"Your mom's name," Mulder recalled instantly.

"He locked me up if he heard me call her anything but 
'Lily.'"

"So then help us," Mulder said.  "Help us get Miri back."

Her face closed off once more.  "I don't know where he is.  
Don't you get it?  I was using you to get to him." She 
looked out the window.  "Should have known better."

Grenier turned into the McDonald's lot.  "What do you 
want?" he asked Mulder.

Mulder couldn't imagine eating.  "Coffee, I guess.  
Penelope?"

"Go to hell," she replied.

"Get her a Coke," Mulder said wearily.  "And a McMuffin or 
something."

"Mulder-"

"Look, when this gets out -- and it will -- you want her 
claiming we starved her?"

"Fine," Grenier said, gripping the wheel.  "A coke."

"Make it diet," said Penelope.

"I'll make it my fist if you don't sit there with your 
mouth shut," Grenier snapped.  "I don't give a god damn 
fucking rat's ass about my job right now."

He yelled their order into the speaker and drove around to 
pay.  A middle-aged woman shivered at the window, waiting 
for their money.  Grenier rolled down the car window with 
the money in hand.

"Help me!"

Mulder's seat rocked as Penelope lurched forward, screaming 
at the top of her lungs.

"Someone help me!  I've been kidnapped!  Call the police!"

The McDonald's employee looked horrified.  Grenier flashed 
his ID.  "Federal agents," he explained.  "We're 
transporting a prisoner."

The woman handed over their food without a word.

"Help!" Penelope screamed again.

"Get us the hell out of here!" Mulder yelled over the 
noise.  Grenier gunned the engine, and soon they were back 
in traffic again.

Penelope kicked the seat again, sloshing hot coffee over 
Mulder's hand.  

Grenier watched Mulder curse and clean up the mess.  "Still 
want to feed her?"

"Yeah, to a lion."  Mulder dabbed at his pants with a 
napkin.  "Just drive, okay?  Get us somewhere out of 
sight."

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lying down, even with the chill in the room, it was hard 
not to sleep.  Exhaustion had seeped into her very bones.  
Scully dragged her eyes back open and watched Pittsfield 
muttering and scribbling something on a tablet.  
Periodically, he would have to stop for a wracking cough.

"I wish you would let me take a look at you," Scully said 
as he wiped the blood from his lips.

"Nothing you can do."

"I'm a doctor."

He turned in his chair to look at her.  "You might be a 
doctor, but you're not a healer.  I fished you out of the 
hospital."

"Hospitals can heal."

"Fixed you up, did they?"  When she did not answer, he 
nodded.  "That's what I thought."

"What makes you think Lily can do better?"

"Her name is Angel," he corrected.

In the corner, little Lily hugged her knees to her chest 
and looked at Scully.  Scully met her eyes and Lily shook 
her head: drop it, she told her silently.  Scully 
remembered the prison under the floorboards.

"What makes you think Angel can heal you?" Scully tried 
again.

"She's sent from God.  I've always known."  He turned 
around again and picked up his pen.

Scully risked a glance at Lily, who looked terrified.  
"Your Angel left you," Scully said in a raised voice.  
"She's turned her back on you.  Why should she help you 
now?"

Pittsfield turned around again, lips thin with fury.  
"That's the Devil's talk," he said.  "You stop your 
serpent's tongue right now or you're going straight to 
Hell."

She saw the fear in his eyes. "It's not devil's talk.  It's 
the truth, and you know it.  She wants nothing to do with 
you."

"You will NOT speak of her anymore!" He stood, shaking with 
rage.  

"Father, no!"  Lily scrambled to her feet and ran between 
Pittsfield and Scully.  "She doesn't understand.  She 
doesn't know the Angel."

"Out of my way, girl."  He shoved her aside and advanced on 
Scully.  "A little taste of Hell, that's what you need.  
Some time alone to search your soul."  He grabbed Scully's 
arm and yanked her up.

The room spun crazily around her.  She was weak and dizzy.  
"Please," she said.  "I'm sick, like you."

Lily's sobs filled the room.  Scully twisted, but 
Pittsfield held her fast.

His fetid breath hit her face, nearly causing her to retch 
on the spot.  He smelled like death.  "You're sick in ways 
doctors can't fix," he said.  "You need to turn to God."

"I have," Scully gasped as he twisted her arm. 

His eyes narrowed.  He studied her face, gaze boring into 
hers.  "You've talked to Him?"

"He's talked to me."

Surprise flashed across Pittsfield's face.  "Liar," he 
said, but he sounded less certain.

"It's true."

His gaze dropped to her neck, lingering at the gold cross.  
"If you've talked to him, then you'll know.  When you see 
the Angel, you'll know that I am right about her."

"Show me," Scully said, still breathing hard.  God, please.  
Anything to get out of this little room.

"Soon."  He let her go and shuffled back across the floor, 
seeming lost in his own world again.  "Soon we will all 
see."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mulder sipped his coffee.  Everything he had been telling 
Amelia and Grenier yesterday -- that Pittsfield wasn't a 
murderer, that he had no need to hurt anyone -- he was now 
saying to himself.

Scully, pregnant.  Had she known?  She would have told him 
if she'd known.

Mulder rubbed his aching head.  He almost wished he didn't 
know now.  It made it hard to think about anything else.

"Uh, Mulder?"

"What?"

"We've got company."

Mulder looked at the side mirror and saw a black and white 
cop car gaining on them.  "Shit," he said, turning around.  
The patrol unit had their lights on it.  "They're after us, 
all right. Go!"

Grenier hit the accelerator.  "The McDonald's woman."

"Maybe."  Mulder looked back again.  "But Paul Pratt knows 
the score now.  We're AWOL with a federal prisoner.  You 
can be sure he called out the militia too."

Grenier passed a car on the right going sixty miles per 
hour.  "We keep running and he's going to call for backup.  
We'll have a dozen black and whites on our tail and a 
chopper in the air.  Pittsfield will be able to watch us 
all over the noontime news."

"You got a better idea?"

They had reached a wide, open road.  Pine trees lined the 
street and traffic was sparse.  The cop continued to dog 
them a few yards behind.

"I still say the McDonald's woman called it in.  We pull 
over, show him our ID, and he goes away happy."

"And if he calls Pratt?"

"Cross that bridge when we get there."  Grenier pulled over 
along the shoulder and the cop pulled in behind him.  
"You," Grenier said to Penelope in the mirror.  "If you 
ever want to breathe free air again, you'll keep your mouth 
shut."

The uniformed cop got out with his gun drawn.  "Hands where 
I can see them!" he yelled.  

Mulder and Grenier both put their palms on the inside of 
the windshield as the officer approached their car.  The 
cop looked at Penelope in the back seat.  "Help," she 
hollered.  "Help me!  They've kidnapped me!  Please help!"

"We're fucked," Mulder whispered.

The cop went to the back door, gun still aimed at Grenier 
and Mulder.  "Open this door!"  Grenier didn't move.  "Open 
it now!"

Grenier moved one hand and hit the locks.  "We're federal 
agents," he said.  "We're transporting a prisoner!"

"They're lying," Penelope sniffled as the cop helped her 
out of the back seat.

"We have ID!" Grenier tried again.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" the cop asked.

"They kidnapped me," she said.  "I was so scared."

"Let's see this ID," the cop told Grenier in a hard voice.  
He took one step and Penelope tripped him.  As he fell into 
the slush and mud, he lost the gun.  Penelope grabbed it 
with her still-handcuffed hands.

"Don't move," she ordered the cop.  The gun shook as she 
pointed it at Grenier and Mulder.  "Throw your guns out the 
window," she said.  "Do it now."

"Now we're fucked," Grenier muttered to Mulder.  "God damn 
pansy-assed rookie."

They threw their weapons out into the snow.  Penelope moved 
and kicked each one well clear of the car.  The cop 
twitched on the ground, and she pointed the gun at him.  
"Don't even think about it.  I'll shoot your balls off.  
Get up."  He got to his feet.  "Get in the car. Go on, 
move!"

The cop climbed in the back seat behind Mulder.  Penelope 
got in as well.  "Drive," she told Grenier.  "Or I'll blow 
his brains out in the backseat of your precious car."

Grenier pulled the car back out onto the road.  "We told 
you so," he told the cop.

"Shut the fuck up," Penelope replied.

"Penelope, listen..." Mulder began, but she cut him off 
with a sharp kick to the back of his seat.  He was flung 
forward against his seatbelt.

"You shut up too!  The both of you make me sick."

"We're trying to help you," Mulder said.

"You're trying to help yourselves.  Who was there to trade 
for me seventeen years ago, huh?  No one was making any 
deals then.  Well, I'm in charge now.  I'm not some stupid 
kid dependent on useless assholes to make things happen."

Mulder's cell phone rang.  "That's probably him," he said.  
"What do you want me to do?"

"Answer it."

"Mulder," Mulder said into the phone. His answer was a 
terrible coughing on the other end.

"You have the girl?" a voice wheezed at last. 

"Yes, we have her.  I want to talk to Scully."

"Not this time.  Bring the girl to Jerusalem.  You'll find 
us at the Temple of David."

"I don't know where that is."

"My Angel knows.  Bring her tonight by midnight, or Agent 
Scully goes to Hell."

"Pittsfield, wait--" The other man hung up in Mulder's ear.

"What did he say?" Penelope demanded.

"He said to bring you to Jerusalem, to the Temple of David.  
He said you would know where that is."

Penelope looked blank for a few seconds, and then 
recognition seemed to dawn.  "Keep driving," she said.

"We're going to need gas," Grenier told her.

"Not for where you're going."

Twenty minutes later, she had them standing out in a field, 
that, while not in the middle of nowhere, was a good ten 
miles from any town.  "I want the keys to the cuffs," she 
told Grenier.

He threw them into the snow at her feet, and she bent down 
and grabbed them with the pinky of one hand.  "Now the cell 
phones," she ordered.  "And the walkie-talkie."

When she had stripped them all of their communication 
devices, she loaded her booty in the car and got in the 
driver's seat.  "I don't know if he's right about Hell," 
she yelled out at them.  "But if there is such a place, I 
will see you all there."

The car's wheels spun in the snow and she drove out of 
sight. Mulder wobbled.  "She has my crutches," he said.

"God damn it!" Grenier said, kicking the snow.

The cop looked at the main road off in the distance.  "I 
know a short cut to town," he said.  "But it's still over 
six miles to the nearest house."

"Go," Mulder said.  "You'll be faster without me."

"I can't leave you here," Grenier said.

"You can't afford not to.  Someone has to tell Pratt what's 
going on."

"Tell him what?  When last seen, Penelope said she was 
driving to the West Bank?"

"Tell him whatever you have to get her back.  If Pittsfield 
finds her first, there's no telling what could happen to 
Scully."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mulder hobbled to the tree line and located a long, solid 
stick he could use as a temporary crutch. "Now we're well 
and truly fucked," he said to trees.

He found a large, wet rock to lean on while he waited for 
Grenier to get back with help. Grenier would have had 
enough sense not to go to the cops, of course -- except 
thanks to Penelope they had their own personal police 
escort.  No way they were going to stop the local boy from 
telling his story.

He tried to think like Penelope.  She wanted her daughter 
back, so she would take the meeting with Pittsfield.  She 
also had a gun.  So did Pittsfield.  

Two people with nothing left to lose and a pair of firearms 
between them.  Mulder did not like the odds.  

He took small comfort in the fact that nobody actively 
wanted to harm Scully, but the creeping sense of dread 
inside him threatened to overwhelm even this small 
highlight.  Once Pittsfield had Penelope back under his 
control, he would have no further use for Scully.  

Mulder noticed Pittsfield had a poor track record when it 
came to letting people go.

Grenier must have stepped double-time, because he returned 
in a cruiser within an hour and a half.  "They've already 
got an APB out for Penelope," he said as helped Mulder into 
the backseat of the car.  

Mulder accepted both a blanket and a hot cup of coffee.  
Grenier climbed in beside him.  "She can't be arrested," 
Mulder told Grenier in a low, urgent voice.  "If she fails 
to show, Pittsfield will take it out on Scully."

Grenier looked at their driver, a young cop who was 
listening openly.  "I don't think there's much we can do 
about it at this point," he muttered.

"I have to try."  Mulder leaned forward to the front seat.  
He noted the wedding band on the young cop's finger.  
"What's your name?"

Wary, the kid met Mulder's eyes in the mirror.  "Looney, 
Sir.  Alan Looney."

Mulder smiled.  "Hell of a name, Looney.  Your wife take it 
up when you married her?"

"Uh, yes, Sir."  Looney tightened his hands on the wheel. 
"She said, um.  She said we could be Looney together."

"That's sweet.  Real nice."  Mulder scooted closer.  "What 
if someone wanted to kill her?"

The car swerved briefly off the road.  "Excuse me?"

"If a madman were holding your wife hostage and wanted to 
kill her.  What would you do?"

"I--I can't say."

"Sure you can."

There was a long silence.  "I guess I'd hunt him down and 
kill him with my bare hands," Looney said at last.  "Sir."

"Right."  Mulder leaned back in the seat as a wave of pain 
overtook him.  "Looney, I'm going to need to you do us a 
little favor."

"Mulder--" Grenier's voice rose in warning.

"Looney, your little colleague made a huge mistake today. 
His fuckup cost us our prisoner, and now a woman may end up 
dead.  You have a choice.  You can compound that mistake 
and wind up with blood on your hands too, or you can help 
us fix it and maybe rescue three people in the deal.  
What's it going to be?"

"Sir?"

"It's like this," Mulder began.

Five minutes later, Looney drove them past the sleepy 
little police station without even slowing down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Christmas Eve fell dark as an executioner's hood, the cold 
air sharp as a blade.  Shortly after dark, Pittsfield 
hustled Scully and Lily out to his old rusted sedan.  He 
gave her an old coat to wear over her hospital gown and a 
pair of enormous galoshes.  Scully stumbled on the 
slippery path, but he held her tight by the arm.  He had a 
vise-like grip for someone so ill.

"You're not going to pass out on me again, are you now?"

Scully shook her head.  "Where are we going?"

"To meet your Agent Mulder, if he has any sense.  Let's 
hope for both our sakes he comes through."  They reached 
the car and he yanked open the door.  "Hurry, then.  We're 
late as it is."

He shoved Lily in the backseat and went around to the 
driver's side.  The high moon shone like a pearl, 
illuminating the steely glint of the gun in Pittsfield's 
waistband.  

Scully glanced at the frightened little girl huddled behind 
her.  Any move she made would have to take Lily into 
account too.  Pittsfield was crazy but he wasn't stupid; he 
was careful to keep the gun out of Scully's reach as he 
climbed behind the wheel.

Jerusalem, he had said to Mulder on the phone when naming 
their meeting place.  The Temple of David.  Surely even 
Pittsfield wasn't insane enough to believe he could drive 
across the ocean.  Could he mean to rendezvous with Mulder 
at an airport?

~*~*~*~*~

The convenient thing about commandeering a squad car was 
that it let them listen to the scanner.  "At least we know 
she hasn't been picked up yet," Grenier said.

Even Mulder's teeth hurt.  It took all his concentration 
just to form words.  "I still think he'd go to a church."

"Which one?  And on Christmas Eve?  There's going to be 
people everywhere!"

"You have a better idea?"

"Maybe a temple.  He said the Temple of David."

"In *Jerusalem*," Mulder pointed out testily.  "You want us 
to catch a plane?  If we left now we still wouldn't make 
the midnight deadline."

Quite until then, Looney pointed at north.  "Or," he said, 
"we could just go this way."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pittsfield pointed the car north and took off as fast as he 
could without attracting the attention of authorities.  
Their sedan rattled at high speed.  Pittsfield kept the 
heater on full blast; every cell in Scully's body seemed to 
evaporate.  In the mirror, she could see Lily wide-eyed and 
silent in the back seat.

They crossed the border into Pennsylvania around ten.  
Pittsfield drove without hesitation, making quick turns and 
eventually settling on a lonely back country road.  The 
Chevy rolled and bounced along a black, tree-lined 
corridor.  

"It shall be a sign unto you," Pittsfield said -- the first 
words he had spoken in hours.

Scully jerked from her thoughts in time to note the faded 
sign on the side of the road.  "Jerusalem," it said.  "Next 
right."

~*~*~*~
 
Nearly two thousand years after Christ's death, the little 
town of Jerusalem, Pennsylvania was aglow in celebration of 
his birth.  Lights twinkled on houses and trees; candles 
shone in the windows. 

Lily pressed her nose to the car window as Pittsfield 
navigated the residential streets.  They passed an enormous 
blow-up figure that reminded Scully of the Stay-Puft 
Marshmallow Man from "Ghostbusters."

Gradually the lights grew more infrequent, the houses dark 
and quiet.  At the end of one street Scully spotted their 
destination: a Jewish synagogue called the Temple of David.  
Pittsfield pulled in and drove around to the back.

"Is she here?" Lily asked, her voice quavering.

"Not yet, child.  Come now.  We'll go inside and wait."

Wind whistled in her ears as she got out of the car, but 
Scully knew immediately they had beaten Mulder to the 
punch.  Years on the job told her how to sense a sting.  
She didn't have to look to the bushes to know she was on 
her own.

Lily snuggled against her, shivering, while Pittsfield 
jimmied open the back door to the synagogue.  

At night, with the lights and heat off, it was like walking 
into a crypt.  Pittsfield guided them into the main temple. 
His hacking cough echoed off the high ceiling and bare 
walls.  

Moonlight shone through the narrow windows, illuminating 
odd corners and casting long shadows.

"It won't be long now," Pittsfield told them as he sank 
down onto a bench.  

Lily sat next to him.  "What if she doesn't come?" 

Pittsfield pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth.  
"She'll come."

"But what if she doesn't?"

Pittsfield stroked her hair a moment before answering.  
"Then we'll all go to Hell together, now won't we?"

~*~*~

Scully was ticking through her scant options -- grab the 
girl and run; try to overpower Pittsfield in her weakened 
state -- when they heard the back door to the temple open 
and close.

Lily tensed.  Pittsfield held a finger to his lips and 
pulled out his gun.

Silent as they were, Scully heard the faint footsteps 
growing closer.  Not Mulder; she knew the sound of his walk 
cold.  But whoever it was had come alone.

Pittsfield rose, his expression expectant.  A shadowed 
figure slipped into the far side of the room.  Scully took 
in the slight build and the long blond hair.  

Oh, my God. Penelope.

"You're just in time, my dear," Pittsfield said.  "What did 
you do with Mulder?"

Penelope raised her arm and Scully saw the shining barrel 
of a gun.  "I want my daughter."

Pittsfield chuckled.  "Put down that silly gun.  We both 
know you won't use it."

"I want my daughter back now, you son of a bitch!"

"We all make sacrifices.  Have you learned nothing?  You do 
as I say and Heaven will be your reward."

Penelope's trembling voice floated across the room.  "Miri?  
Lily?  Sweetie, come to Momma."

Lily's face was stark white and terrified.  "Father, 
please," she whispered.  

Pittsfield clucked at her and drew her to his side.  
"Everything will be just fine."

"Don't hurt her!" Penelope cried.

"Don't be such a simpering idiot," Pittsfield snapped.  "I 
have always done what's best for this child.  You're the 
one waving the gun around.  Can't you see you're 
frightening her?"

Penelope moved into a beam of light.  Scully saw tears 
streaking her cheeks.  "I'm sorry.  Baby, I'm sorry.  I 
want to help you.  Please come here.  We'll go away.  We'll 
go somewhere where he can't ever hurt us again."

Lily clung to Pittsfield and buried her face in his leg.  
"Make her stop," she said.

"Do you see that?" Pittsfield called.  "She wants you to 
stop.  She doesn't want to go with you.  Unlike you, she 
knows she can't fight the Lord's destiny."

"Baby, please."  Voice hoarse, Penelope tried again.  The 
gun shook in her hand.  "Please just come with me.  I would 
do anything for you.  I love you.  Please, please come over 
here."

Lily scrunched up tighter, as if blocking the words out.  
Pittsfield grew impatient.  "She doesn't love you.  She 
doesn't even remember you.  Stop this ridiculous nonsense 
and put down the gun.  I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh, that's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard!"

"Put down the gun and come here."  He raised his own weapon 
and pointed it at her head.

"That's rich."  She staggered back, laughing and sobbing at 
the same time.  "You won't kill me.  You need me, 
remember?"

Pittsfield seemed to hesitate.

"Well, you can't have me."  She turned the gun around and 
pointed it at her chest.  

Scully stepped forward.  "Penelope, don't!"

"I'll see you in Hell," she said, and fired one shot into 
her chest.  

The gunshot echoed with Lily's high-pitched scream.  
Penelope slumped to the floor.  Scully raced across the 
room to the injured woman.

"God, no!" Pittsfield followed close behind.  "What have 
you done?"

Blood leaked out of a small round hole in Penelope's chest.  
Scully immediately applied pressure to the wound.  The girl 
coughed, head lolling to the side.

"Stay with me," Scully said.  "You're going to be okay."

Pittsfield hovered while Lily sobbed.  "Do something!" he 
implored Scully.

"She needs a hospital," she yelled back.  "If you want to 
save her, you'll call nine one one."

But he just stood there as the life force spilled out of 
her.  The blood was warm and slippery between Scully's 
fingers.

"Come on, Penelope," Scully said.  "Stay with me here."

Her eyes had closed.  "My name is Lily," she whispered.  
And then was still.

~*~*~*~*~*~

End chapter eight.  Continued in chapter nine.

Oodles of thanks to Amanda for proofing!

Definitely the home stretch.  Thanks to those reading 
along!

Talk evil to me, baby:  syn_tax6@yahoo.com