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Language:
English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2006-10-11
Words:
2,745
Chapters:
2/2
Kudos:
15
Hits:
1,316

The X-Files: Means to End

Summary:

Mulder and Scully are trying to find out who killed a man who contacted Mulder for help just hours before his death

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Chapter Text

Upper East Side, New York City
May 5

She shut the flow of water off in the shower and pushed the frosted glass doors to the side, reaching for the fluffy terry robe she kept hung from a hook on the wall. She slid into the comfy cotton before grabbing a matching towel draped above the toilet. After twisting the towel around her sodden blonde hair, she exited her steam filled bathroom and made her way into her spacious adjoining bedroom. Tossed in the middle of her king sized bed were the clothes she would need for tonight, still in the shopping bag.

She walked over to her nightstand, reaching for her cell phone to see if she missed any calls. There were none. So, the job would still need to be done. The clock on her phone told her she was still ahead of schedule, just as she always was. No need to rush.

She dried off her body after pulling the new outfit from its bag. She had made sure she had bought everything brand new, right down to her underwear. And after tonight, she would never wear these items again.

After she was dry, she wrapped herself back up in the robe and let her tangled hair fall around her shoulders. After quickly running a brush threw her still damp hair, she pulled it into a loose bun, making sure every strand was tucked securely in. She then quickly dressed in the baggy black pants and black long sleeved shirt. She rolled the pant legs to her knees before slipping on a pair of cream colored heels. Across the foot of her bed was a new khaki trench coat. After slipping that over her outfit, she grabbed the brand new pair of black tennis shoes that were purposely two sizes too big and slipped them into an oversized bag. Before leaving her apartment, she grabbed the black ski mask off her vanity, tucking it securely next to the shoes.

She kept to her usual routine, riding the elevator to the lobby, giving the doorman a dazzling smile and twenty dollar tip after he held open the door for her, and taking off down the street a few blocks to where the vehicle was supposed to be waiting.

She reached into her coat pocket, her fingers grasping the key He had given her a few weeks before. It belonged to a dark blue Ford Crown Victoria, He had said. And it would be waiting for her at Madison and E. 68th.

She took in her surroundings as she walked. It was getting late, and the evening traffic had died down. Only a few people were out and about in her neighborhood. She didn't recognize any of the faces, or vehicles on her street, but that didn't mean anything. She was almost certain she wasn't being watched, she had worked for Him for a very long time, and had always done what she was told, no matter the consequence. Not because she wanted to. But because they paid her a lot more money than her country ever could to. Of course, that didn't mean He hadn't found out about her and was watching her every move. Nobody trusted anybody in the circle. That was the way it had to and would always be. And being Russian made it that much harder to be trusted by the Syndicate.

She turned the corner, not surprised to see the newer model Crown Vic parked on the side of the street. She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the driver's door. There was nothing too special about the interior, and it still had its new car smell. She slid behind the driver seat, adjusting the seat to accommodate her height before bringing the car to life. She reached across the vehicle, popping the glove compartment, finding only a single sheet of paper, just as promised. She wouldn't know where she was headed until she looked at that piece of paper.

She waited until she switched the pumps for the tennis shoes before unfolding the plain piece of paper. She was headed to the Lower East Side, she realized. 243 E. 3rd.

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He was nervous.

And he knew why.

He finished copying the video to a small disk. He was sure what he watched dozens of times wasn't meant for his eyes. Hell, he wasn't even sure what was depicted on the video.

He tucked the disk among the towers of DVDs he had pirated from the internet, before stuffing the video cassette into a padded envelope. He sealed it, double checking he had the address correct. He may not know what was exactly on that video, but he had heard of someone who might.

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She parked the car a few blocks away from the run down apartment building. The streets were almost empty, and the clock radio telling her it was a quarter to midnight. She slid the trench coat from her slender body, rolling the pant legs back down before killing the engine. Underneath the passenger seat was a 9mm weapon, complete with silencer. She tucked the weapon into her waistband, making sure it was covered by her oversized shirt.. She popped the trunk and threw the trench inside before quietly closing it again. She kept to the shadows as she made her way to her destination. The front door was unlocked, as promised, and she quickly and silently walked up to the fifth floor.

She made her way to the other end of the hallway, to apartment 9B, before slipping the ski mask over her head. She could faintly hear rock music floating threw the door as well as someone inside. She efficiently picked the lock and slowly opened the surprisingly light door. He was sitting with his back to her, placing something into a manila envelope.

She snuck up behind him, smashing the butt of the pistol against the side of his head, knocking his to the ground with a heavy thud. She couldn't afford a bullet passing threw him and possibly damaging some of the "evidence" she needed. He looked up at her in shock, them fear when he noticed the weapon pointed at his heart.

"Oh, shit, no, please." he chocked out before she fired twice.

After tucking the gun back in her waistband before grabbing what she was sent here to retrieve. She searched through the thousands of dollars of equipment and videos, looking for anything she might have missed. An unmarked disk fell to the floor after she pulled out a stack of what looked to be homemade DVD's. She stuck it in her waistband and continued to tear the tiny apartment apart. After finally being satisfied, she snuck back out the way she came, heading back to the Crown Victoria. She pulled the ski mask from her head, after unlocking the trunk of the vehicle. She switched out her shoes once again, and slid back into the trench coat. She tossed the disk and package she had taken from the apartment, along with the ski mask and tennis shoes, into the heavy bag. After securing the trunk, and tucking the weapon back under the passenger seat, started the car. She reached into the bag to take a look at the package she had retrieved from the apartment once more. The address on the from was familiar. And the name on the front told her why They wanted it so bad. Before it had a chance to reach the hands of Agent Fox Mulder.