From: bcfan@shaw.ca   
      
   TITLE: None So Blind (3/5)   
   AUTHOR: bcfan   
   FEEDBACK:  bcfan@shaw.ca   
   WEBSITE:  bcfanfic.tripod.com   
   RATING: strong NC-17 for disturbing content.  Please heed the   
   warning.   
   SPOILERS: post-episode, Fallen Angel   
   CATEGORY: X (casefile), M/S UST   
   SUMMARY: Child sexual abuse cases leave Mulder and Scully struggling   
   for resolution.   
   NOTES at the end.   
      
      
   ***   
      
      
   Ramirez waited in his office at the back of the house.  He heard a   
   hum from the private elevator the Boss had insisted he install,   
   and stood and paced nervously.   
      
   Fuck this, he thought.  My family's been in the business for   
   generations, and our partnership with the Boss and his kin has never   
   been a problem.  That easy five hundred?  A big fat nothing, and   
   anyway, Ramirez was sure he had it covered.  The Boss would never   
   know.   
      
   Ramirez knew exactly why he had a chill the size of a glacier in his   
   gut whenever he had to deal with the Boss, though.  He'd seen that   
   shark-like look directed at him once when he was little and had   
   immediately pissed his pants.   
      
   He could still remember his father's words.  "He doesn't touch us or   
   ours.  That's the bargain, and the Boss is a man of his word."   
      
   "Ramirez."  The Boss stepped into the room, his voice as deep as the   
   rumble of thunder before a bad rain.  Black man, black trenchcoat   
   and gloves, black hat, black sunglasses.  Black smell, like tar pits   
   in hell.   
      
   Ramirez didn't offer his hand.  You didn't touch the Boss.   
      
   "Please, have a seat."   
      
   The Boss sat, hands on knees, staring at Ramirez until he looked   
   away.   
      
   "I need product."  Blunt demand.  "New product, not used.  Was   
   Richie used, Ramirez?"   
      
   His poker face had never been more important.  Ramirez stared   
   straight into the black depths of the Boss's sunglasses.  "No.   
   You know we'd never break your rule."   
      
   "Don't lie to me, Ramirez."   
      
   "No, boss, I swear on my family."   
      
   A dark rumble of humour.  "Your family.  I'll remember that."   
      
   Ramirez picked up a paperweight to hide his shaking hands, began to   
   toy with it as he casually asked, "It's only been a week since I   
   saw you last.  Can I help you with anything?"   
      
   "Richie didn't last as long as I expected."   
      
   Shit.  First the Parraz brat, now this.  The little ones were so   
   hard to get ready, too.  Teaching them not to gag, pushing things   
   into them so they opened up better.  It was a lot of work and took   
   a lot of personal time.  And time was money.  Even if they couldn't   
   be used, the product was a good hook for customers.   
      
   Ramirez prided himself on his business smarts - he was in it for the   
   cash, plain and simple.  Maybe he could work out a compromise.   
      
   "We're, ah, a little short of product in your age group, Boss.   
   Could we give you something a little older, keep the one we got   
   for another week or two?"   
      
   "No. I'll be leaving soon, giving this area a rest. Bring me the one   
   you've got now.  I'll wait here."   
      
   "Yes, Boss."   
      
   Fucking bastard.  Ramirez wanted some return on the dollars and time   
   he'd spent, and now he would never see the product again.   
      
      
   ***   
      
      
   Mulder walked with Scully into the stakeout from a block away.  He   
   moved more easily with his cane this evening - Scully's treatment   
   had really helped.   
      
   He spared a moment to reflect on the woman by his side.  It was   
   getting harder and harder to think of Scully as a spy.  Every   
   instinct told him that Scully was the real deal; every past   
   experience warned him to not trust his instincts.  Scully tugged   
   at his heart, and in matters of the heart he'd been wrong before.   
      
   Captain Ortega consulted with a man in a dark suit and tie, then   
   waved them over and spoke into the walkie-talkie.  "We're all   
   here.  Five suspects have entered the house in the last twenty   
   minutes.  On the count of three, men."   
      
   Scully put her hand on his arm and Mulder nodded.  He was here for   
   one reason only - to try and find out what had happened to those   
   kids, and determine if the occupants of this house were connected   
   to their disappearances.  The task force could - and would -   
   handle whatever else was going on.   
      
   Mulder leaned against a patrol car to ease the pressure on his   
   ankle, heard the familiar shouted warnings from Ortega and the   
   INS suits, and watched their choreographed group surround the   
   building.   
      
   They entered, grim efficiency written on every face.  Then uneasy   
   silence.   
      
   He straightened when a single gunshot shattered the calm.  It   
   sounded from the upstairs window, and Mulder's hand jumped to   
   his weapon.  He tensed, feeling the press of Scully's shoulder as   
   she stepped to his side.   
      
   The other agents and officers quickly framed the front door, waiting   
   for the all-clear. When it came, Mulder wiped his palm on his   
   trousers as he and Scully walked into the house.   
      
   "Everything okay, Captain?"  Mulder asked.   
      
   "We got 'em.  We have our own guardian angel on this one - it   
   appears someone cut the wires on their alarm system.  It's pretty   
   ugly, though."   
      
   "Any kids, sir?"   
      
   Ortega looked disgusted and nodded.   
      
   "Where are they now?"   
      
   "The oldest girl asked if they could go down in the basement to   
   join a group of half a dozen other kids.  We've got an emergency   
   phone call in for a Social Worker."   
      
   Mulder looked around.  The atmosphere was closed and stuffy, and the   
   sharp tang of sex was strong in the air.  Bedrooms were furnished in   
   the kind of maple sets he remembered from his childhood, lending a   
   perverted veneer of comfortable respectability.   
      
   The bathroom door was missing.  Nothing was private in this house.   
      
   "Careful, Rob," Captain Ortega warned, as an officer shoved one   
   of the handcuffed men his group was leading through the door.   
   "We're going to treat this scum nice and gentle - we don't want   
   them complaining about violating their rights when we nail their   
   asses.  Sex with a minor - Jesus."   
      
   Mulder nodded.  "And the people running this?"   
      
   "One bitch was playing hostess.  She's with an old lady upstairs,   
   waiting for transport.  Granny fired a shot at us."  Ortega sounded   
   shocked.  "What looks like the main perp was caught fleeing from the   
   back.  Some kind of outside elevator.  Right, Steve?"   
      
   An olive-skinned officer stepped over.  "Mike and I nabbed him, but   
   it was the damnedest thing.  We just finished cuffing the perp,   
   when the elevator opened again.  It was empty, but so dark it   
   was freaky."   
      
   Mulder stepped forward.  "What do you mean, freaky?"   
      
   "Dark, but kind of shimmery. And there was a burning smell."  Steve   
   scratched his head.  "I joked 'let's adjust the set' to Mike, but   
   then it was gone. Never seen anything like it."   
      
   Mulder chewed his lip, then shook his head.  A problem for later.   
   He glanced at Scully.   
      
   Her face was bloodless, expressionless, lips pressed in a thin   
   line.  She spoke quietly.  "Captain, did you recognize any of   
   the children you found?"   
      
   "Sorry, Agent Scully.  They were too old to match your missing   
   victims."   
      
   "Do you mind if we go into the basement to question them?"   
      
   Ortega shrugged.  "No problem.  The basement's been secured.  Would   
   you like an officer-?" Ortega glanced at Mulder's cane.   
      
   "Agent Scully and I will be fine, Captain."  He headed for the   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)