TACITURNITY

Taciturnity is written by Ridgley Warfield. All rights to this fan fiction belong to me. The X-Files are a licensed production of the FOX company and I do not own the characters in this plot. This story is completely fiction, thought up in my own mind, and is in no way true. However, enjoy.

The Lone Gunmen crouched beside the chain-length fence in the pitch black of night. The frog-prince, Melvin Frohike, tested the metal with a stick to make sure it wasn't electric, then began to cut a hole so all three men could climb through. He was clad all in black, with his black leather vest and knit cap, night vision goggles hanging around his neck. Ringo Langly looked up at the NO TRESPASSING sign and then looked around them to make sure they were alone. His blonde hair was almost glowing in the night sky against his black t-shirt and blue jeans.

"Come on, Frohike," he whispered. "Mulder said 'in and out'."

"You try cutting this mess, then." Frohike bit back and Langly sighed aggitatedly.

"Be quiet, you two, before someone hears you."John Byers whispered harsly. He was in a black suit, always professional where ever he went, with his neatly trimmed brown hair and beard.

"There, it's cut. Langly, you go first." Frohike pocketed the tool and Langly wormed his thin body to the other side of the fence.

"Come on, we're running out of time." He rushed Byers and Frohike through the fence and the three silently made their way to the government-occupied building. A large metal door was the only entry and exit to the prison-like complex and Langly hovered close to the wall as Byers picked the lock.

"I'm going to kill Mulder if this place has an alarm." Frohike mummbled.

"Ten to one it has a silent alarm. Meant to notify only those who try to keep the X-Files under wraps." Byers said conversationally. "There, that should do it." He cautiously turned the handle, opening the door slowly, then led the way inside.

The hall was grey, which didn't surprise any of the gunmen. The overhead lights were dimmed, but gave off enough light so that the guys could see what was around them. Doors lined the hall like an office. Langly peered through his black rimmed glasses and could barely see the other end of the building.

"Gee, this place goes on forever!" Byers was already opening doors while Langly and Frohike stood at the entrance.

"Come on, guys. We have to hurry. I know we've tricked some sort of alarm and we'll have company soon enough." Frohike started checking doors on the other side of the hall and Langly began to walk down the hall a ways, checking random doors as he went. He opened one, peering inside and felt his jaw go slack.

"Byers!" He called out in a hushed voice. Byers jogged over to Langly and looked through the door. File cabinets lined either wall in a corridor that seemed unending. Looking at one other, they forced their way through the door, Frohike close behind. Langly pulled out a file, confused at the contents.

"What is all this?" He asked more to himself than the others.

"Test subjects." Byers quipped. "Mulder's been here, Samantha's file is here. Come on, that's what we came for." Langly paused in the B-files, and glanced towards Frohike and Byers who were purposefully making their way down the corridor. He browsed through the names and his finger stopped on what he was looking for. BYERS. Yanking the file from the drawer, Langly thumbed through its contents. He held onto the file and found another drawn in the F's. He looked through the names and cursed under his breath as he came to FROHIKE.

"It's the fucking card catalog of every United States residence." Langly jerked Frohike's file from the drawer and slammed the cabinet shut, jogging and looking for the L-files. There was no way any government agency was going to catalog Langly's life like a libary. He pulled the drawer open and saw his name in the type-writer font. LANGLY. He slowly pulled the file out and opened it, shocked at how much 'They' actually knew about him. Byers was thumbing through Samantha's folder and Langly reached in the drawer, pulling Mulder's file and rushing off to find the S-drawer.

"Langly, what are you doing?" Frohike questioned.

"Stopping this." He replied. He finally found the S-drawer and pulled Dana Katherine Scully's file. When he turned around to rejoin the others, he was a little shocked to see he had wandered a little *too* far. In the darkness he couldn't see, nor hear, either of his compadres. He started back the way he'd come and stopped when he heard the shuffle of feet.

"Langly, run, go!" Byers said frantically once they were in view of each other. Frohike was dragging up the rear as the three men made their way deeper into the maze of files. Langly was still clutching his stack of folders, trying to figure out where he could stash them for the time being.

"Frohike, put these down your shirt!" He said, stopping as the heavier man took the documents and crammed them down his shirt. As the three resumed their jogging, Langly glanced back. "I guess we got our company that we were expecting." Langly noticed that the file cabinets had ended a while back and the corridor they were in was getting darker and darker.

"Anyone care to tell me where this trail ends up?" Frohike said, almost reading Langly's mind. Byers spotted a door and the three ran in a dead bolt to it. Frohike tried the knob, finding it locked. "Come on Byers, get us out of here."

Hands shaking from adrenaline, Byers focused as hard as he could on the task at hand. Langly could hear footsteps pounding closer and closer. He felt beads of sweat rolling down his face and his heartbeat matched the screaming in his mind: HUR-RY! HUR-RY! HUR-RY! The footfalls sound as if they were right on top of the Gunmen and finally Byers picked the lock, opening the door to the outside, a runway strip ran alongside the entire building surrounded by a field.

Frohike was already dashing ahead, with Byers close behind and Langly taking up the rear. Ringo heard angry shouts behind him, getting closer and he willed his feet to move him faster. A gun was fired and he hit the ground, instinctively, dodging the bullet. Almost in the same second he felt a knee pressing in the middle of his back and his arm being twisted behind him. He looked towards Byers and Frohike, Byers was scrammbling through the fence.

"JOHN!!!" Ringo called out. Their eyes met instantaniously, and then Frohike and Byers were gone, fleeing for safety. Langly was hauled to his feet, handcuffs bounding his wrist together behind him, and was led in the opposite direction of freedom

*****

Langly was still cuffed, now sitting in a chair, a bright lamp blinding him as he was being interrogated. There was a guard, probably Army, standing at attention while two other men, high ranking in the military harrassed Ringo. The interrogation had been going on for what seemed like hours. Langly knew better than to give anything away, he'd rather die than rat his friends out, so he was giving obviously false answers. The highest-ranking officer finally became physically agressive, tired of Langly's BS.

He grabbed a handful of Langly's shirt and ripped him close to his face. "Listen up, little girl, if you don't start giving me straight answers, you'll be *begging* me to kill you. Now, what the hell is your name?!"

"Bill Gates." The officer sighed, dropping Langly back to the chair and turned to the guard.

"Put him in fucking solitaire. He'll talk in a few days." The two officers left as the guard roughly hauled Langly to his feet, pushing him forward and down a series of white corridors. The man finally came to a stop in front of a door marked 465L, unlocked it and shoved Langly into the bare concrete room. Langly stumbled and fell from the change in balance, hands still cuffed behind him, as the door slammed shut, blocking out all light. His hair was caught on his lip and he try to blow it away, but it wouldn't move. Pushing himself up with the side of an arm, Langly scooted along the floor until his back found a wall to lean on.

The muscles in his shoulders were beginning to cramp and he noticed the temperature seemed to be below freezing. His body was shaking uncontrollably and his breathing was short and labored. He layed on his side, curling into a ball as close to the wall as possible and tried to fall asleep, but knew there was no way he'd get even a wink.

*****

Frohike, Byers and Fox Mulder had spent an hour bickering about the stolen files and Langly. Mulder had no power, even with his FBI credentials, and Byers and Frohike had even less.

"Not even AD Skinner can get Langly out of where ever he is." Mulder argued.

"You and I both know that the only reason *any* of us are still alive is because Langly kept quiet. We owe it to him to atleast *try*." Byers fumed.

"I wonder how badly they're torturing him right now?" Frohike wondered morbidly and was pinned by Byers death glare. "Hey man, face the facts. Langly's smart, but there's only so much even *he* can handle."

"Frohike's right, Byers. It's been proven on people tougher than Langly."

"I don't believe that for a second. I know Langly and he'll die before he gives us up."

"Who's to say he's not dead already?" Frohike interrupted. "Those guys don't take any crap, and they're not going to put up with *his* crap for very long."

"Maybe not, but you forget that *we* have something *they* want and only *he* knows how to get it."

*****

Langly had no idea what day it was. His entire body was cramped and stiff from the position he was in, but he was too cold to even think about moving. He exhaled a shaky breath and tried not to think that he'd be going into shock soon. Hunger, severly cold temperatures and deprivation from any light sources were the perfect elements for temporary, but some times permenant, shock. He knew that's when they'd come back and begin the interrogations again, knowing he'd be too out-of-it to think twice before spilling his guts.

Just keep your head together, Ringo, he thought to himself. He focused on replaying all of his favorite movies in his head, but soon began to find himself drifting into a void. His thoughts would come flooding back all at once and he wouldn't be able to remember his last thought, or how long ago he'd thought about it.

*****

Byers returned to the government building of files alone in broad daylight. With a .35 Magnum calmly drapped at his side, he approached the guard at the front door as if he was only a tourist.

"Where is he?" Byers growled.

"This is private property, leave or I'll have you thrown in jail." The guard responded, but Byers aimed the gun and stared coldly, unmoving,

"Where *is* he?"

"I'm afraid I don't--"

"Don't give me that crap, you know exactly who I'm talking about. Where are you holding him?" The guard shifted uncomfortably, then grabbed his walkie-talkie.

"Sir, we have a *situation* reguarding the criminal we apprehended. I'm bringing through a--" He paused, not knowing what to say.

"Friend." Byers finished.

"A friend, sir." The man repeated to the walkie-talkie, then led Byers, gun still aimed, into the building. Byers carefully watched for any signs of trouble as the walked a long corridor. In almost a split second, the guard turning and knocked the gun to the floor, throwing Byers into the wall and seizing both arms. A tall man with a crew cut came from behind a closed door and looked Byers over.

"He wants to see his friend? Take him there." Byers tried to struggle free from the man's iron grip, but to no avail. They finally came to a door, and as the guard unlocked it, Byers saw Langly on the floor, back face him. Light spilled into the dark room and Ringo screamed out in pain through gritted teeth. The guard shoved Byers into the cell and slammed the door shut again.

"Langly!" Byers stummbled his way to his friend, feeling his way through the darkness. He finally felt the cotton of Langly's shirt and knelt beside him. "Ringo, are you alright?"

"John?" Langly's voice was rough from underuse and dehydration. He was disoriented, but still holding together.

"Yeah, it's me." Byers took off his suit coat, and laid it over Langly, in an attempt to provide *some* heat.

"How long have I been here?" Langly's voice shook, and Byers couldn't tell if he was just cold or if he was crying.

"Almost three days. The plan was supposed to be to get you out, but instead I got thrown in."

"Welcome to my world." John was relieved that Ringo could still muster up some humor. "You don't happen to have your lock pick with you, do you?"

"I never leave home without it, but I don't think it'll work too well on that door lock since there's not a lock on the inside."

"No, not the door," Langly jiggled his hands, and the metal handcuffs clanged against the concrete floor. "These."

"Ahh, I see. You're in luck, I even have a flashlight." Langly turned his head to try and see what John was doing and immediately hid his eyes again when a small beam of light illuminated the area around them. "Jesus, you're suffering from photophobia."

"Yeah, well, that happens when you don't even get to see an indiglo watch for nearly a week. Come on, Byers, get these off, please." Byers stuck the flashlight in his mouth, digging out his small tools and crouching low enough to see the small lock. Langly's eyes were still closed while Byers worked.

"So, Ringo--" He spoke around the light.

"No, I didn't tell them anything. Why do you think I'm in here?" Langly's tone was nothing short of hostile and Byers stopped working on the lock, a little stunned. "I'm sorry, I think I'm starting to lose what little sanity I had."

"It's alright, Langly. They're expecting that reaction. Maybe once I get these off and you get moving around and stuff, it'll get better." He resumed working and Langly stared at the nothingness all around him.

"You know, it's ironic. When I was a kid I hated dark places and closets. I was even afraid to play in boxes, and here I am in a dark box."

"There, that's got one of the cuffs." Ringo heard the click and felt the fridged metal slide off his left wrist. Byers took the flashlight out of his mouth and turned it off. "Do you want to try and sit up?"

"I'm not sure I can move. I haven't since they threw me in here." He tentatitively stretched a leg and heard his knee pop. Byers fumbled in the dark and caught his shoulder, helping Langly to ease himself up against the wall. "I never knew keeping still could make you so sore."

"Close your eyes, I'm turning the flashlight back on." Langly squeezed his eyes shut and Byers tugged his right arm forward, sticking his tools into the keyhole. He glanced at Langly's face, cheeks red from the extreme cold or a fever, stubble lining his jaw.

"When will Mulder realize that the plan to rescue me failed?" Langly asked calmly, his voice beginning to sound normal again.

"He probably already knows. Look," Byers lowered the flashlight to the floor and Langly carefully opened his eyes as Byers removed his shoe, showing a small piece of metal on his sock. "They're monitoring where I am."

"A homing device." Langly said, more to himself. Byers smiled and put his shoe back on, finishing with the lock. As the metal restraints fell to the floor with a clatter Langly rubbed his sore wrists. "Thanks."

"Sure." Byers stood up, searching the room with his flashlight. "I think we should complain to their interior decorator."

"Yeah, right after I haul off and kick their asses." Langly retorted.

"Ringo, keep a cool head, man. I know it's tough in situations like this, but you can't let them win." Langly sighed in resignation, changing the subject.

"How's Frohike?"

"Fine. He's been reviewing the files we got. They know more about us than we know ourselves. Every doctor's appointment, every purchase we've made by check or credit card, eye exams, detal work...you name it, they know it."

"What do they want with all that stuff?"

"I don't know, but in each file there's been a series of papers with some sort of code or something that we can't crack." He dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper, folded into a square. "Here. This is from Scully's file." Langly took the paper and reached for the flashlight. He studied the information with a baffled look.

"I don't recognize this. It's a bunch of codes all together. There's Morris code--see, the dots and dashes." He placed the paper between them, shining the light and pointing. "And, this looks almost like Java or Perl.. and there's some C++ coding. But, the words and letters...I don't recognize that."

"Why would they code something is a language that any hacker could understand?"

"Maybe no one's supposed to know anything *but* the coding. I wonder if even these hot shots can read it."

"So then who's making these records? If whoever it is can't even trust their own military..."

"Byers, I think we stummbled into something that not even the Lone Gunmen can make a plausible theory about. I don't even think Mulder could."

*****

"Mulder, I think our plan to get Ringo out landed Byers in there with him. I'm reading that he's been at the same location for about three hours now. It's definately somewhere inside the complex, but we needed a stronger bug to give exact local." Frohike waited for Mulder to respond, watching him pour over his sisters file.

"I'd suggest that he lost the bug, but considering..."

"What's Plan B?"

"Think up a Plan C." Mulder chewed his bottom lip, still reading one of the papers, then looked up at Frohike. "Is there anyways we can know for sure that Byers is *with* Langly."

"If we were closer to the complex, *maybe* depends on the type of equipment I can scrounge up. Plus, the signal will be stronger if we're closer."

"Alright, but not too close."

"Fox Mulder is telling *me* not to get too close?" Frohike commented in mock shock.

*****

Langly felt Byers shivering beside him. He handed back the suit coat jacket which had been drapped over him.

"Come on man, you're going to freeze."

"N-No," Byers trembled. "I've atleast got long sleeves on." Langly muttered and moved closer to Byers, drapping half the jacket over him.

"Fine, atleast use that, but I'm not going to let you become a frozen pop."

"Langly, how have you lived in this temperature this long? It's got to be about 20 degrees in here."

"I just tried not to think about it. I thought I was a goner before they brought you in here. Atleast if we keep a conversation going, we have a chance or staying sane." A moment of companionable silence passed and Byers exhaled slowly.

"You know, they train you for this kind of crap when you join any military or federal agency, but you never really understand how terrifying it is until you're actually in the situation." The tone of his voice was that of defeat and Langly elbowed him hard in the side. "OWW! What the hell was that for?!"

"Don't give up, yet. They haven't given us any reason to, Byers."

"Come on, Langly, you know the facts! They haven't opened that door since they put you here, and if I hadn't come along, they probably wouldn't have. They're going to let us die here, Ringo. You know that as well as I do." Byers was angry now, not at Langly, but at the people holding them. He stood up, pacing like a caged cat.

"Gee, someone's optimistic." Langly sighed. "Of course, who am I kidding? I guess I was just counting on Mulder to spring us from this joint."

"This was such a brilliant idea. Why the hell did we agree to this?" Byers' temper was beginning to flare and Langly could almost see him, fists clenched, in the piercing darkness.

"You didn't have to come back, John." Langly sounded reserved, far away. Byers stopped, embarrassed at his selfish tirade and felt his way back to the wall, sitting beside Langly.

"I couldn't let you take the wrap for us, Ringo. I couldn't let you do this alone." Langly yawned, finally feeling the effects of no sleep. "Go to sleep, man. I'm not going anywhere." Langly laid on the floor and Byers tossed the jacket at him. He bundled inside of it and was soon fast asleep.

*****

"What is that, Frohike?" Mulder quizzed, looking at the palm-sized machine.

"This, my friend, is my new toy." He answered, adjusting the knobs. "It can tap into any surveillance camera they have. I happened across a map of the building, and now that we're closer, I can pinpoint exactly where Byers is and tap into the closest camera, controlling it from here."

"Cle-ver," Mulder turned his attention back to the building. "How long will this take?"

"I should know in five minutes at the most." Mulder was still looking over the files the Gunmen had stolen and had nearly gotten lost in thought when a series of beeps interrupted. "Aha.. Here." Frohike was already pouring over the layout and pointed to the location the device gave on the whereabouts of Byers. Frohike was already studying another map, finger tracing lines and dots. Mulder watched him carefully.

“Perfect! There’s a camera right there.” Frohike began to toy with the equipment and soon turned the screen towards Mulder.

“It’s a door…” Mulder stated flatly.

“It’s more than likely a cell.”

“Prison cell? I bet Langly has a bit of Déjà vu.” Mulder smirked, but found that the humor over the Lone Gunmen’s stay in a holding tank had faded. “What now?”

“You’re the FBI agent, do something.” Mulder’s face soured as if hurt and sat back, leaning against his hands. “Wait a minute…” Frohike was studying the small screen closely, adjusting knobs.

“What is it?” Mulder looked puzzled as Frohike held up the machine for him to see.

“Computerized locks.”

“Can you—“

“How long have you known me now, Mulder, and you still ask?”

*****

Byers heard the lock turn and jumped to his feet, anticipating the next move. He glanced over at Langly, who didn’t even twitch. When the door didn’t open, Byers carefully approached it, feeling around the edges for a place to pry it from the inside.

“Ringo…” He called over his shoulder in a quiet voice. Langly still didn’t budge. “Langly, get up.” When Ringo refused to move again, Byers carefully approached his still friend. Kneeling down, he pulled his flashlight from his pocket, shining the light over Langly’s body. John briefly closed his eyes as he saw Ringo’s tremors and vacant eyes, staring into nothing. Langly’s exhausted voice startled John.

“Leave.”

“What?” John asked stupidly, shining the light towards Langly’s face. His blue eyes were still vacant, as if in a trance.

“Go…leave me here.”

“I came here for you, Ringo, I’m not going to leave you. You’ve got to snap out of this. I need your help if we’re going to get out of here.”

“I can’t.” Langly’s voice shook at his own incompetence.

“Yes you can, now get up.” Ringo didn’t move, and John knew he wouldn’t without force. “Come on, Ringo, get up!” He grabbed Langly’s limp arms and jerked him upright, causing Ringo’s hair to fly over his shoulders and into his face. Ringo made no attempt to move and John brushed the blonde strays from Langly’s face.

“I can’t, John. If I go with you, I’m going to be too photophobic to see on my own. I’ll just slow you down.”

“I don’t give a damn, Ringo. I’ll be your eyes, we’ve got to get out of here. Please, Ringo.”

“I’ll try.” John helped Ringo to his feet, steadying the weaker man. He stumbled back to the door and finished prying it open, peering into the empty hall. As they stepped from the pitch-black cell, Langly hissed, shutting his eyes against the lights and shielding his face with his arm.

“Come on, Langly, we’ve just got to go a little further.” Byers quietly, but quickly led the way down a system of corridors, one arm supporting Langly, the other ready to strike out on unsuspecting individuals. Ringo dropped his head low, eyes still closed against the blinding lights. He stumbled a few times, relieved that Byers was there to catch him. He heard a door open and felt the warmth of the sun against his hypothermic-battered skin. His muscles tensed against the drastic and sudden change, and refused to move. Ringo fell slack in Byers arms.

“John, I can’t…” His voice was cracking from exhaustion, under-use and the pain his body was experiencing. Byers continued to drag Ringo’s limp body to safety.

“There’s Frohike, and Mulder’s with him!” He called out, informing Langly, who was near tears with the tortures being presented to his body. After what seemed like an eternity to Ringo, he was finally laid against the ground.

“We’ve got to get him to a hospital!” Mulder’s voice sounded almost panicked.

“How did you get us out?” Byers asked, gratefully.

“We’ll explain it later, let’s get out of here,” came Frohike’s quick response. Ringo felt his body once again being lifted, but the shock soon overwhelmed him.

*****

Voices were talking quietly and Ringo soon determined that they belonged to Byers and Frohike. Gingerly, he opened his eyes, flinching as the light stung his optical nerves, but finding that he was able to squint enough to allow him to see.

“Hey, he’s waking up.” Byers stated, followed by the shuffling of feet. Ringo peered up into the faces of the other two Gunmen.

“Langly?” Frohike questioned, to make sure that Ringo knew what was going on.

“Why is it that every time we do something for Mulder, one us ends up here?” Langly replied, his voice tired and his throat sore. He shifted, wincing as his muscles all tightened at once.

“Hey, Langly…thanks for not being a narc.”

“Yeah, well next time, don’t count on it.”